Good gear-nice day (Tim)
Day 1
Started out in Huntsville promptly at 7 A.M. with a fantastic pancake breakfast. Now that's the way bacon should be! Seen three moose on the drive in. A cow and calf ran up ahead in the road for probably 3 minutes. Pretty cool.
Got to the landing and took an hour to square the boat away. Did so in a swarm of mosquitos and blackflies. Quite possibly a sign of things to come. Oh me! Portaged into sizable Ralph Bice lake where Tim insisted we run a line and try and nab a fish. I was more interested in making tracks and getting off the big lake before the wind picked up. Tim prevailed and was rewarded with a lake trout, his first ever. It was to be our only fish of the day.
We got to Queer lake our destination in the late afternoon and feeling a bit thumped we set about organizing camp and making some rice pudding, very good! Took a while to get squared away but we managed the last 2 hours to fish before dark. Nary a strike. The black fly's and mosquitos had a field day though. Thank God for the original bug shirt which made things tolerable. Going to be a cold night . They had snow up here 4 days ago but today was gorgeous, mostly sunny and in the 60's. Day 1 in the books.
The map shows about 10 miles as the crow flies but with all the constant twisting and winding I am envisioning closer to 15 but first we have the 1300 meter ( 3/4 mile) portage from queer to the jumping off point on the Tim. Up at 5:30 and making breakfast by headlamp. A quick troll around Queer lake to see if the fish had decided to eat but to no avail. Supposedly a good fishing lake but our lack of experience in this country may have something to do with our empty stringer.
We hit the Tim about 11 A.M. and set about casting a crawler into the pool at the base of the rapids. There was some talk about a shore lunch and how many we should keep before the nightcrawler ever hit the water. Silly boys! Nary a nibble. That's fishin for you! Tim suggested a "fish as you go" process but I was suspicious of our timetable. I knew there were precious few places to camp on the lower Tim until we reached it's egress at Lake Shippagew. "Let's get 1/2 way and see how long it takes before wetting a line" I suggested. Besides the twists and tight turns that make navigation in an 18.5 ft. boat a little interesting there were 2 large tree trunks to impede our progress. They spanned the entire river. With the banks being very thick our options were limited. Sliding our fully laden vessel across on the trunk proved easy enough but getting back in the canoe proved to require some additional actions. The 18 footer would not lay lengthwise due to the many branches coming off the trunk. Out came the saw and we were soon ensconced in our wicker wonders (canoe seat) and paddling, paddling, paddling away. We eventually realized after the 1/2 way point that fishing was out of the question and our concern became reaching our destination before nightfall. In doing so we passed many deep holes and undercut banks that probably held many spotted beauties.
The Tim River went on and on and we were like machines. From start to finish I detected no decrease of effort from my paddling partner or myself but clearly exhaustion was not far off. This day will come in at a top 5 for long hard days especially with our prodigious loads. As per my usual style I have brought plenty of everything.
We seen 2 cow moose at close quarters, impressive animals indeed. We reached Shippagew Lake at about 7:30 and found an especially nice campsite with a great view and a nice breeze to blow the bugs away. Things seemed to have timed out rather perfectly. We still managed to set up and have dinner before retiring. Tim has proved his mettle in that his second day out on his first wilderness canoe trip he was subjected to an especially grueling day and did so in good cheer. Bravo!
Day 3- On To Big Trout
We got up a tad late, 8ish if I remember correctly and proceeded to cross a 1/4 mile portage into Blue Lake where we ran a line across without result. Another 1/4 mile portage put us onto Big Trout. It was supposed to be yesterdays destination but we were wise to have not tried to press on. My trip planning for the previous day was a bit to ambitious to say the least. Big Trout was virtually empty of other trippers and we snagged a delightful campsite on a point with a good view and nice breeze. After setting up we had a dinner of rice, scalloped potatoes and fry bread. Sufficiently fortified we head out to troll for lake trout. About 40 minutes in Tim connects off an island point. We make another run and I put our second fish on the stringer. After a few more passes we decide to head back as darkness was not far off. Well out from shore Tim connects again and at first glance I thought he had a trophy brook trout. With much hoopla I net what turns out to be a rather ordinary 3.5 lb Laker. We retired for the night feeling satisfied with our efforts.
Day 4- Lovely McCintosh Creek
Another late morning. I think it would of been a waste of effort to try and get up any earlier as any attempt to leave our warm bags would of been in vain. After a little morning coffee I broke out the newly acquired outback oven for a trial run. Instead of the usual oatmeal breakfast a very tasty peach cobbler was made with real peaches. Whoa, this opens up new possibilities for camp cuisine. The next item of importance on the morning agenda was fresh fish. Tim had brought olive oil, onions and lemons and after being neatly tucked into some foil and a wire basket we proceeded to cook them on a bed of hot coals. Delicious!
We pulled out at exactly noon. The run through Big Trout and White Trout lake was about 8 miles and the plan was to run some spoons in hopes of catching a few more fish. The day was overcast with on and off light showers but little wind.
So far the trip can be described in one word, arduous. We have been putting in big days under heavy loads with precious little time to fish. Fortunately our work has proceeded under perfectly ideal conditions. Cool, mostly sunny and light winds. Had the elements transpired to work against us, as is often the case in the North, long days might have turned into cruel days with the potential for exhaustion and possible injury. I am new to this country and have received an education in short order.
Day 5 - Timberwolf and Uninvited Company
Froze my hiney off last night and had to get up and get more clothes on but I had to especially get an Alleve. My back was letting me know it wasn't happy. I retired once again to the comforts of my bag where rumor has it I practically snored Tim out of the tent! I awoke and proceeded to make several cups of coffee on our new island home. I have christened camp with the name "Camp-bug-a-lot". Yesterday afternoon upon our arrival we were greeted with swarms of black fly's, no doubt overjoyed at our arrival. We were to tired to seek other sites so we endured. Tim, sick of the constant winged menace, built a fire and the results were nothing short of miraculous. Bingo, their departure was almost instant. Since today was to be a layover day ( thank God) we decided to break out the outback oven and cook a double batch of lemon poppy seed muffins. They turned out wonderful and after rubbing some butter on we actually consumed the whole pan along with a bowl of oatmeal! Here it is an hour later and I feel I could probably eat something else!!
I am in a rather sad state. Welted up with bites along my forehead and behind my ear because of black fly's and with no dip in the lake to clean up I am probably quite a sight. Tim has been much more circumspect to wear his bug shirt. With the built in headnet it is a formidable defense against pests. I, however, have to be desperate before I wear mine as the claustrophobic feeling and lack of visibility is loathsome to me. I like and admire the garment however and as a sanctuary it is only second to a tent.
Timberwolf is noted as a fine fishing lake but our efforts proved fruitless. In several hours we could only manage 2 small lake trout which we released. In the late afternoon I became suspicious of the sky and set about erecting the rain tarp. The results were soon to prove both fortuitous and comedic as we shall soon see. The fishing effort was wielded with gusto until almost dark at which time the rains began. We organized our boat and gear for the onset of weather under a light sprinkle. By the time we had retired for the evening darkness had fallen and the rain increased to a steady shower. From this point things become a bit murky but I shall re-cant them as best as possible. Our first indication that the night would not prove uneventful was when the rain tarp, which I had erected adjacent to the tent, released a load of water that had accumulated. About a gallon of water landed with a ker-sploosh on the side of our tent. The unexpected noise and vibration was disconcerting to say the least and I suspected we were in for a long night. This process repeated itself every 15 minutes or so and just about when I'd had enough Tim detected something outside the tent. Within seconds we had locked eyes with identical conclusions. The owner of the large bear track that we had seen earlier had come to pay us a visit. The next shared thought, and again I feel I can say this with some certitude, was what the heck are we doing here? The tracks and clawed trees seemed innocuous enough in the bright morning sunshine and the thought of pulling stakes and moving hadn't even occurred to me. Now sitting in a dark tent with the rain coming down the foolishness of that choice was brought home like a hammer. The pelting of the rain on the tent made it difficult to detect individual noises and I began to question Tim's heightened attitude. I reacted to his actions however and before long we were both armed. A big lock blade adorned Tim's right hand and his left was raised into a fist ready to strike. I grabbed my hatchet and bottle of bear spray . A small clip on LED headlamp completed the surreal scene.
Big toothy grins adorned both our faces but of a certainty neither one of us thought our situation was funny. But in spite of that bursts of nervous snickering was let out on both sides. My stomach was in knots and I suspect my partners was as well. During the next 20 minutes the tarp dumped a load of water or two on the tent which did a surprisingly good imitation of a bear wanting to work its way through the thin nylon. This would snap us back to attention with more nervous snickering, the only release for our adrenaline charged bodies.
Suddenly a drop of water appeared from above landing with a splat on Tim's sleeping bag. That was soon followed by another and then another and it was soon apparent that despite a 16 oz. bottle of tent sealant our abode was not going to keep us dry. Action was called for lest we soak our bags and that action dictated we exit the tent and slide it under the security of the rainfly. I exited and with the help of my powerful headlamp took a look around. No bright eyes reflecting off the beam were to be seen and at first glance our site seemed to be undisturbed. Every things fine, I thought. We had let our imaginations get the best of us like a couple of kids sleeping under a sheet in the backyard would do. But then I saw it, a dry bag several feet from where I had placed it only a 1/2 hour earlier. Further investigation revealed a large bear track only a foot outside our tent which confirmed our worst fears. After re-positioning the tent under the rainfly we again retired to the imaginary safety of its confines. Once again we were subject to a siege. Tim heard the bear pacing about and a low grunt put us both on alert. I faded out with my hands grasping my weapons. The last I saw of Tim that night was in the low light of the headlamp preparing for the worst. I know who I would want to share a fox-hole with if the poo-poo ever hit the fan.
When the morning broke so did the rain. We were both relieved to have made it through the night without further incident. I later learned he was up until 2 A.M. keeping watch. Our bear had done what 99.9% of them do. And that is to come into your campsite and try and find your food. It's that one tenth of one per cent that you have to be concerned about. Had we had any food in our tent, even an empty snickers candy bar wrapper, I suspect things may have turned out for the worse.
Day 6 - We Make A Break For It
A dreary cool and misty dawn greeted us. Perfect I thought, no bugs. My attention now turned to our proposed route. As we had done from the beginning we surveyed the map for the days paddle. I had us routed through a series of small lakes, each included a sizable portage. The goal when the route was formulated was to put us on a remote lake that had smallmouth bass on it. During most years they would have been bedding but due to the late spring that was very unlikely. I expressed my concerns to Tim. I had already privately contemplated setting our sights toward home and wanted to see how Tim felt. When he asked how far we were from the truck I knew we were on the same page. I pointed out that we were a very long, hard day away and one in which all the factors would have to go our way to make the truck by nightfall. After only a moments hesitation he looked me in the eye and said " lets go for it!" I nodded in the affirmative and as I went to collect the stuff and load the boat I began to wonder if I hadn't created a "monster" in just 5 days.
Another big day went by the wayside. Again we were fortunate as the cool weather helped make the work seem easier and the wind was not really a major adverse factor. We hit the landing and had the truck loaded within an hour just as darkness was settling in. An hour later we were comfortably seated, eating wings and watching the red wings play.
If truth be told I freely admit that my planning was rather poorly executed in the "time vs. distance" part of our trip. While the loop selected was of admirable quality, in as much that it encompassed a great variety of paddling and portaging scenarios, the length of time proposed to accomplish the travel was suspect. This is especially true when one considers that a main priority of the trip was fishing. The long days of paddling allowed precious little time to "wet a line". I had built in 2 "layover days" where rest and some fishing could take place but these days only allowed us to keep our schedule. A perfect example was on the Tim river where we needed an extra 1/2 day to catch up.
THE EQUIPMENT
Our Bell Northwoods kevlar canoe is certainly a world class vessel and an absolute pleasure to paddle. The 2 notable additions to my kit was the "outback oven" and the Platypus Gravity fed water filter. Both items can be described as stellar. The Outback Oven is a fun and tasty diversion that will add even more weight to a kit that is more suited to be packed by a llama or Sherpa. The gravity feed system actually makes camping fun. Pumping water in my book is the most disagreeable camp chore. With the gravity feed you just fill it and forget it. In 2 minutes, bingo, you have a gallon of water. True love!
Tim had brought another "pocket rocket" camp stove and it was very helpful to be able to have 2 stoves going. Tim was wise to heed my advice about bug protection and purchased the "Original Bug Shirt" and "Rail Riders extreme adventure pants", both items in combination will leave you more or less bullet proof.
THE FISHING
Rumor has it that Algonquin is awash in trout. I do not doubt that supposition. What I do know is that the fish were either not biting well or I/we lacked the knowledge and/or equipment to exploit the parks reputation. But that's fishing. If it were always easy I would probably do something else. I have a feeling I will probably give the park another go sometime.
THANKSGIVING
A heartfelt thanks must go out to my good friend and oft tripping partner Dan. Without his generosity the trip may have never taken place. The boat and most of Tim's dry bags and pack were made available to us from Dan's reserve of generosity. Initially he was to have accompanied us but other obligations prevented him from doing so. I know I speak for Tim as well when I once again say "Thanks Dan". And speaking of partners I wish to express my appreciation of Tim and his many fine qualities. While I know for a fact that this was not the trip he had envisioned ( nor I ) he was quick to adapt and later to even thrive. I would be re-miss to not mention my lovely wife who puts up with a man who hears "the call of the wild" without complaint.
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