As the date approached, the day's high temperature was
forecast to be 30 degrees Celsius and unusually warm for September. The
forecast also called for temperatures to drop suddenly to seasonal levels, and
were makings for unsettled weather at best.
We checked the
Weather Network forecast frequently looking to make the final "go/no-go"
decision. With every check, the forecast changed. Fortunately, for the most
part, it continually improved. The chance of rain, the POP got less and less
and the forecast amount followed suit. The decision was made to
"go", even though the conditions for unsettled weather remained.
On the morning of departure, we were ready. All the gear was
assembled in the truck, and the canoes were on the trailer. By shortly after7
AM, we were heading for the Park. During the road trip, we told stories of last
year's adventure, the one before that, and those before that. I felt fortunate
to be camping with 3 good friends including Jason. I liked having
Jason along, and that will be a special part of next year's memory.
While checking-in at Canoe Lake depot, the friendly staffer
warned us of bears and sent us on our way to the Smoke Lake put-in. It just so
happened I had been on a trip starting at that very spot 42 years before that.
I was younger then and the group of guys different. Our green St. Maurice canoe
was the same one I used back then. It has more scratches and patches now; more
than I can count. Since then, it's been north to Moosonee, the Yukon and
Alaska, west to British Columbia and every province in between here and there.
It's been up rivers, down rapids, across mirror calm bays, bumped along portages,
and on too many white-capped lakes to recall.
The trip down Smoke Lake was easy, as the skies were bright
and the winds light. The portage to Ragged Lake was short though challenging
and unchanged from 42 years before. It was nice to shoulder the old overweight
St. Maurice with Jason. He made the canoe feel light, lighter than I ever remember. It was one of those special father-son experiences.
There were lots of available campsites on Ragged and we got a dandy. It was hoped that during our morning breakfasts, we'd be blessed with warming sunshine.
The canoes were unloaded, tents set up, and firewood
gathered. By late day, the weather started to change as expected. By dusk,
there was lightning to the south and southeast. It went on for hours, but
seldom did we hear the associated thunder. The storms were about 50 kms away
and they stayed away.
In the morning, when we poked our heads out of the tent, the
weather was cooler and cloudy. The wind was out of the west and our rain-tarp worked
as a windbreak for the cooking fire. As always, a little ash added some flavour
for a great breakfast.
However, a few sore muscles from the previous day's paddle
and a restless sleep on the hard uneven ground spoke to the fact we were still roughing
it.
Mid morning, we ventured across the Lake to some wetlands
hoping to see some wildlife, but came up short except for some shorebirds.
We hiked the portage to Big Porcupine Lake. It was a rocky
up-hill 550 meters. I had portaged that too, 42 years ago, but this time we had
left the canoes at the bottom and the gear was back at camp.
For the return trip to the site, the winds had picked up.
Heavy clouds doused us with rain as we paddled to the leeward side of the
island looking for shelter from the wind. Jason and I paddle well together, his
strength is on the left and mine on the right. When the need arose, we found we
could pull hard for a sustained period.
In the afternoon, we took a dip and bath in the cold lake
then basked in the sun.
By dinner time, the winds had shifted again, this time
blowing out of the north. We repositioned the tarp to protect us. It was hoped
the northerly winds would clear the unsettled weather out by morning, then drop
off in time for us to break camp and paddle up Smoke Lake. For the most part,
Smoke Lake runs north-south, and a significant north wind would be a problem.
The winds blew all night and continued after we woke. I
recalled a story of how I lost a friend on Cedar Lake many years before. I
wasn't on that trip when rough water swamped his canoe in high winds and he
drowned. For our tricky passage up Smoke, we planned to stick tightly to the
east shore, stop frequently for breaks, reassess the conditions as we went, and
hopefully make our way home safely. I felt confident that Jason and I could
paddle it, and Mike and Bruce had more experience yet.
At the portage, we met some guys that had just come down
Smoke. They spoke of the high winds, whitecaps and being scared by an incident
of being thrown sideways while surfing a wave and almost capsizing. Our work was cut out for us and
we knew it. We confirmed amongst us, we'd stay together and go with the plan.
We paddled hard across the first large bay and kept close to the shore
otherwise. Continuing up the Lake, we stopped repeatedly, rested and reassessed
the conditions each time. The wind had been blowing out the north for 24 hours,
which was much longer than it usually takes to clear conditions. The sky
remained cloudy but there was no rain to hamper our progress or adversely affect our
judgement. The water was rough, the winds gusty, and the canoes coming the other
way down the Lake were riding the swells.
Eventually we made it. Fortunately, cool heads had prevailed, our
collective experience paid off, and we didn't take our safety for granted.
It was great to have Jason along on this adventure, we
dodged a weather bullet, and I had another memorable trip to Algonquin Park
with 3 great friends.
