Author: thedoctorswild

We walked the line…

thedoctorswild

We pulled in and unceremoniously dumped everything in the nearest tent pitch before walking down to the marina desk and checking in. We were just thinking about going for a beer when I stupidly said something like ‘oh yes, we’re in the USA now’ and the clerk asked ‘have you cleared customs?’ Erm, well, no. We hadn’t. And we’d always been a little nervous about this part of the trip. 

If you are a Canadian or US resident you can apply for permits (RABC and i68) which allow you to cross the border remotely without question, simply phoning and notifying customs of your crossing when you are able. If you are from elsewhere, you cannot get these permits, and we had received conflicting advice on what we should do, being told by one Canadian border official that we’d get a $1000 fine each for not crossing at a land border. Not helpful when we were taking a route that crosses continuously for around 300km, and leaves us in the US. The border services at Fort Frances were most helpful, phoning both the US customs in International Falls (just across the bridge) and the Canadian guys at Pigeon River. Their advice was basically go and do it, and go to the US post at Pigeon River when you arrive or, though they didn’t say it directly, keep your heads down and paddle straight back into Canada when you get to Grand Portage. Until I opened my mouth, this is what we thought we might do…

Anyway, this was no longer an option, so we phoned the US border from the marina, who sent someone down to check our paperwork. Or lack of it. Now, this is a sentence you will not hear very often: thank you to the friendly and fantastically helpful guys at the US border for helping us out and making our arrival in the US legal. And so, 30 minutes after our arrival at the marina, a well marked border services car arrived and whisked us off, much to the amusement of the other campers. We sorted our paperwork at the land border, laughing that my fingers were too grubby for the fingerprint machine to recognise them. Lucky for us, but perhaps not those around us, we have completely lost insight into how wild we look or how bad we smell. They then gave us a lift back to our tent before we completely contaminated the place.

So, for any non-North Americans planning on doing a similar trip in the future, here’s what you should do:

  • Make sure you have an ESTA (or visa if required for your country). We had one, but might have been screwed without it.
  • Walk over the border at International Falls, with or without your gear. You will be issued with an i94, which allows you to cross as many times as you like for 90 days. Not strictly a remote areas pass, but it looks better than having nothing at all and will probably satisfy any US Border Patrol en route. You can then go back to Fort Francis and commence your trip from there or paddle from the US if you prefer.
  • When you reach Grand Portage, phone from the marina. US customs will come down and meet you, and the existence of your i94 should be enough to ensure it is a straightforward process.
  • Paddle up to Thunder Bay and phone the CBSA from the Marina there. We didn’t test this bit, but it’s what the Fort Francis guys told us to do. Or cross back at the land border and continue your trip from Thunder Bay.

Essentially, it’s all a bit of a grey area and the border guys know it. So smile, keep your fingers crossed, don’t make too many jokes, and maybe have a few thousand dollars in your bank account in case it all goes to shit.

The Portage Pilgrim’s Progress

The Portage Pilgrim’s Progress

thedoctorswild

We left Gunflint filled up and stretched out but, like the first day of the holidays, with the added realisation of just how tired we were. Good job there was a nice easy stretch ahead… 


Gunflint dock, site of breakfast yoga shocker

After an early morning yoga session on the dock (during ‘happy baby pose’ I imagined the view for the breakfasting onlookers and got uncontrollable giggles) we set off down the lake with a gentle tail wind. We stopped in at the next campground store to pick up as many Ibuprofen as they would let us buy (this being the US, ‘many’ was the answer): Mike’s shoulder – which was injured a few years ago when he was knocked off his bike on his way to work, subsequently arriving at his place of work in an ambulance – has been causing him some grief, most notably since we started this section of heavy portaging. Skype advice from a top physio, and also from Mike’s best man, was rest (they know Mike well enough to know this won’t happen), excercises, and a course of anti inflammatories. Paddling doesn’t seem to aggravate it so we continued on through Little Gunflint lake and Little North lake onto North lake. From here we took the excitingly but slightly misleadingly named ‘Height of land’ portage, figuring everything beyond should be downstream…right?


Portaging injuries…

We paddled very definitely into the current on South lake to find the Rat Lake portage: by now we are accustomed to looking intently for dark holes in the forest which might indicate a trail, and as we get closer the shiny exposed roots and smoothed rocks that tell of several hundred years’ worth of use (and on arrival see the confirmatory grazes of aluminium from other canoes to which we add a dash of bright pink gel coat. Good old Bertha). 

We started unpacking when another canoe arrived: people! We yelled them to pull up as there was plenty of room at the get out, and started our first run up the trail. We were halfway back when we passed one of the paddlers: ‘where are you camping?’ Said he, apropos of nothing. ‘We’re going to try and get to Rose lake and…’ he didn’t stay for the rest but broke into a run. Ah, our first taste of competitive canoeing: the campsites in Boundary being limited we had been told that there could sometimes be a race for the best spots. Well, it’s a very serious business, holidaying…! 


View from the portage trail

We made it onto Rose lake in time to see a storm gathering behind us and the other canoe pull into the first campsite on the lake. Knowing we had the (entirely appropriately named) Long Portage at the end of the lake sometime the next day we paddled as far as the storm allowed before diving for cover and setting up the tarp. Also in deference to the Long Portage we ate a huge dinner which consisted of ‘whatever’s heaviest’ (rice and daal, one of our favourites).

At 4km the Long Portage was to be our biggest ‘trail’ (as opposed to highway) portage to date – good preparation for the Grand Portage then!? Although these trails are quite obvious they’re by no means easy, with stretches of rooty hill and rocky steps and soggy marsh and fallen trees and occasionally narrow, sometimes rotten, gangways across bog. Breaking it down into 1km sections where we’d depot the first bags and return for the rest seemed to go ok, if not quickly. Many Clif bars were consumed. But the wine gums were being rationed for what lay ahead… 

With the Long Portage completed in time for coffee the remaining 4 short portages for the day looked a breeze. Little did we know the muddy, wet ‘portages’ would be barely distinguishable from the muddy shallow ‘lily lakes’. Some pole-ing was required… finally we arrived onto lovely Mountain lake where we sat and watched a timber wolf whilst it stood intently watching us from the far shore. We camped on Moose lake, which didn’t live up to its name in spite of much evidence on the trails. 


Moose Lake

Our last day in Boundary involved a portage onto the Fowl lakes and then a foul portage onto the Pigeon river – another landmark moment on the trip and name from the list! Foul in part due to us taking a wrong turn and heading up a steep path onto a high escarpment – returning to the junction we saw that the fallen wood that appeared to lay across the other path was, in fact, quite clearly an arrow. Doh! But also this was another 2km portage through dense woodland with many fallen trees to climb over and a twisting meandering hilly track, clearly now rarely used. We did it in 3 stages with coffee at the start (whilst Mike picked a record 5 leeches off his feet) and lunch at the finish on the Pigeon river. In the middle I snagged my prized bug shirt on a branch and tore a hole in the mesh – our second portage disaster!

We both had ideas what this legendary waterway would be like and I think  it’s fair to say it was neither. Bigger than Mike thought, reedier than I had expected and with less flow and more headwind than either of us had hoped for we still enjoyed our paddle down to the English rapids which were bumpy and fun, and then the dramatic and stunning Partridge falls before we arrived to camp at the old site of Fort Charlotte. The Grand Portage is, in fact, a national monument, with permit controlled camping, a fire pit, a long drop and some signposts about the history of the trail. We thought this boded well for a clear route. 

With the light fading fast we made a hasty fire (for cooking and as a mosquito deterrent), pitched the tent on one of the plinths (it didn’t fit), sewed up my bug shirt and set up the bear hang. Then we scrambled into the tent and tried to convince ourselves we were ready for the next day…

And so it was that the day after our 4 month anniversary, and one day short of being 3 months out, we woke at 530am to walk our canoe and all the rest of our kit 14km to Lake Superior. 


Only it’s not 14km when you have to cover the route 3 times to get everything from point one to point 2… and that was with us both very much maximising our carrying capabilities: on the first portage run we both carry huge packs and clip on additional bags or carry paddles, and on the second run Mike has to lift the bag onto my back before balancing various other bits of kit and the canoe trolley etc on me before he lifts the canoe. I felt a strong empathy for mules… 


Typical of the Grand Portage trail

The trail was quite obvious but not always in great shape and after over 6 hours and 21km walking we’d made 7km of progress. So about 1km an hour then. It was at this stage we arrived at a junction with the old highway 61 – a gravel road. We stopped for lunch to discuss… it was twice the distance by the ‘highway’, but if we could use the trolley then actually it was 2/3rds the distance we’d have to do on the trail… we could do 1km an hour on the trail, and about 5km/hr by road. and our wine gums were running low…

So we loaded up the boat with all our gear and let our shoulders breathe a sigh of relief as we hauled the remaining 18km to Grand Portage. Taking a last diversion off the actual proper highway to get into town we thought we might be able to get back onto the last section of the trail and feel like we finished properly. After a protracted battle with some muddy ditches we got back onto the road and, nearing the bottom of the wine gums and the end of our tethers, finally saw the unmistakable gleam of RVs through the woods – a campsite!!! 

Grand Portage Marina and campground – that’s Lake Superior right there!

What we’ve learnt: 

Canadian cheese is so synthetic it lasts, virtually unchanged, for weeks unrefridgerated! Win!

We have a slow leak in our mattress. 

Canoe Heaven?

Canoe Heaven?

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Calm, crystal clear lakes; miles upon miles of unspoiled shoreline; no motorboats, and over two million acres of virtually canoe-only accessible wilderness. Sound like canoe paradise? It’s probably pretty close. This is the area covered by Quetico and La Verendrye Provincial Parks to the north of the border and the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness in the US. It’s pretty amazing, stretches for 240km, and it’s what we’ve been paddling through for the last 10 days.


Having managed to obtain our Quetico permit, and get a last minute BWCAW one to enable us to use the US campsites too (more on the legality of this from US customs viewpoint in another blog…), we headed out across the remainder of Lac la Croix to Bottle Lake, and the first of over 40 portages that navigating along the border through this region entails. Unlike the mechanised portages of the previous days or the wide open trolley friendly trips along the highway, these are all canoe-on-head, multiple trip affairs. Lightweight outfits on short trips portage through in one go, but with all the gear for 5 months on the water we were delighted to get this down to two trips each. That of course means walking three times the portage distance, which ranged from a short 5m hop between lakes, to up to 700m in this section. It also introduced us to a new unit of measurement, the Rod – 16.5 feet, or roughly the length of a canoe. All the portages are listed in this unit on maps, so we soon became accustomed to it. Fortunately the portage trails through this bit of the boundary waters are well trodden and in pretty good nick, meaning they mostly weren’t too challenging, yet.

Pictographs on the cliffs of Lac la Croix 



Our original plan was to stay on the Canadian side through as much of these lakes as possible, acknowledging that the portages run on both sides and therefore necessitate crossing into the US. However, with the reassuring words from the Canadian customs guys in Fort Frances, and our BWCAW permit, we spent the first, and every subsequent night, in US campsites. These are pre-cleared spots with a fire pit, toilet of sorts, and tent spaces. In contrast to the the difficult to find Canadian sites they are marked on certain boundary waters maps. Which we didn’t have. But soon overcame this by taking photos of those carried by willing folk we met along the way. The Canadian side also allows wild-camping, which the US does not, so we were never too worried about finding a place to stay. We became quite used to seeing otter pups playing in the early morning and late afternoon, and listening to the haunting and comical loons, which have replaced the pelicans as our favourite bird.

First US camp



We also started to hang our food more in this section, whereas we haven’t really bothered before. Any bear that has shown any interest in us has been rapidly scared away, and we haven’t been using regular camp spots. But with the volume of traffic in this region and the tendency for bears to return to anywhere they’ve found a quick snack, we wanted to avoid any temptation. And it’s a park rule, or recommendation. The variety of “hangs” we saw was amazing, but the amount of food hanging from each suggested either not everything makes it into the hang or that people here survive on very very little… Most of the hangs did not look like they would deter Paddington if he was hungry, but seemed pretty effective at keeping chipmunks at bay. Anyway, lobbing a throw bag up into a tree each night to try and get the best branch is pretty good fun.

During the first couple of days we saw few canoes, and were able to stop and chat occasionally. We found a great bunch of guys out fishing (Simon et al – there is so much potential for canoe fishing trips in Scotland I’m sure) who, seeing us paddling towards them and thinking we might be rangers (both wearing matching bug shirts), knocked a fish off the line, paddled back into US waters from Canada where they may not have had the appropriate permits for, and scoped us with binoculars until they were satisfied we weren’t going to arrest them. Sorry guys, we hope you caught plenty more fish! As we continued further into the park we saw more and more canoes, so a friendly wave is all you can manage or you’d be chatting all day! The peace from motor boats was bliss though, and we dreaded reaching the few mixed use lakes.

Four days out from the ranger station, with many more portages to go, we suffered our first major kit failure. Both straps on big yellow, one of our 100L Ortleib dry bags, failed on a single portage, leaving us carrying the heavy pack on our heads. We managed to rearrange things to still get through in two trips, but with a lot less comfort and for how long we didn’t know. We also now feared big red might go the same way, and with the grand portage to come we were pretty depressed. However, paddling through Knife Lake and on into Ottertack re-kindled our spirits. Despite the storms and now familiar biblical rain, Ottertrack was probably the prettiest lake we’ve paddled. Steep shores with trees tumbling into the glassy calm water made a truly memorable evening as we battled with the weather to make camp. Tarp happily fluttering over the fire (yes, we know…), we survived 2 inches of rain over not very many hours and found the tent pitch least likely to leave us floating. 

The broken pack, and sling repair



Ottertrack Lake, in the rain



Leaving Ottertrack the following morning we headed for monument portage, where we were caught by an amiable Russian out for a few days solo paddling. He was headed to the ranger station on Lake Saganaga, as were we, so we chased him through some brutal headwinds to meet the ranger of over 30 years, Janice Matichuk. Chatting over a cup of tea, Janice is a wealth of information about Quetico, living with the land, and all things canoeing having lived and breathed it her entire life. She also knows everyone in the local (!) area, so upon hearing of our broken pack set about finding us a replacement. Whilst we made coffee, and introduced her to the Aeropress, she sourced us a portage pack and had it delivered to an old island lodge by an outfitter on the south side of the lake. We paid her, she’ll pay them, we just had to paddle into the wind for two hours to get it. A true star and a real inspiration, showing how living a modern life is possible in such a remote outpost. We collected our pack from the Powells, were grateful for more tea and great company, and finally made our camp for the night amongst towering red pines. Truly a day to remember. 

The irrepressible Janice



Red pine camp



The next day we headed to Gunflint Lodge on the Minnesota side of Gunflint Lake, via a stunning 9 portages! Gunflint is a bit of an institution, having been there since 1927, and runs fishing and canoe outfitting through the summer and skiing and snow-mobiling in the winter. Whilst they have some nice plush lodges, we were grateful for space in the canoer cabins. Feeling pretty broken from all the portaging we decided to take a rest day and both had massages from Carly, whilst Brandon and his outfitting team sorted us out with some kit resupplies. Kit mended and dried, bodies partially revived, we felt ready for the push to Superior. 

Interrailing

Interrailing

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Firstly – photos now uploaded to last post if you want to take a look…

We left Fort Francis well fed and rested, despite not actually having a full day off. Retracing our steps initially to avoid the lee shore on the south of the lake, we avoided passing into the US and looked for an easy day and a Canadian campsite. As the wind swung from northerly to an easterly headwind in the early evening we found an island big enough to squeeze a tent in, with a large resident pike in the bay which I soon pulled out on the end of a line. With this safely returned (we’ve gone off pike a bit since Lake Manitoba) we set about dinner, whilst watching a large and remarkably inquisitive snapper turtle eye us repeatedly from the lake. We think we were probably on its island. We continued the next day to the end of Rainy Lake, our last large lake until Superior, and headed onto Lake Namakan via Soldiers Portage. On the way we waved good bye to our long serving pee bottle, as it rolled off the boat post-use without the lid on and promptly filled with water, sinking beneath the waves before we could manoeuvre to grab it. It seemed a fitting end, and it was probably about time this bottle was retired anyway…


Namakan lake passed smoothly the next morning and saw us dodging rented house boats though the Namakan Narrows into Sand Point Lake. These monstrosities are hideous and barely faster than our canoe, there’s no way anyone would ever buy one themselves. On this basis we reasoned they were all driven by complete muppets, evidenced by us often seeing both sides of the boat several times as they steered a supposedly straight line past us. With this menace avoided we raced a building storm down the lake and came around a headland to find Sand Point Lodge advertising ice, minnows, gas and confectionary. Turns out they did pizza too, so lunch was sorted. With the storm passed we smugly paddled off an hour later, only to see another one approaching as we rounded the next headland. We dived for the dock of an apparently unoccupied cabin, waved at the occupants of the next one, who promptly waved back and invited us over to sit out the storm, informing us they owned our dock too… So an hour was spend with Chuck his lovely family from the Twin Cities as storm two broke. Looking at the sky again we paddled out, narrowly missed being in the landing zone of an incoming float plane, and got completely, totally and utterly soaked by storm three. Ok weather, you win.


We soon dried out in the evening sun and headed up the Loon River searching for a place to camp, passing the start of the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness as we went. On the map we’d found a nice looking lake with an island, but were dismayed to find it made completely of reed, with a bear doing widths in the sunshine as we approached. We carried on up to the next portage, hoping it wasn’t too taxing at the end of the day. Well, it wasn’t. In the early 1900’s walleye and ice was taken out by boat from Lac la Croix towards Winnipeg, through two portages at each end of Loon Lake. In 1916 the US companies decided to ease this process by putting in rails and an engine to transport the boats over the land. The engine (and operator, Charlie was keen to point out) having been slightly updated, but the rails remain the same, and made for the most pleasant portage thus far. After a delightful chat with Charlie, whose speech suggests he may have been too close to the engine for too many years, we headed to a campsite he’d pointed out and arrived just as the light faded. 


Charlie and his engine

The next morning saw us at Beatty Portage, the second set of rails, and paddling on to Lac la Croix where we were to collect our permit for Quetico Park. Around lunchtime we arrived at Campbell’s Cabins where we’d been told there was a little shop where we might get a few snacks, and discovered they would also fit us in for lunch. So two cooked lunches in two days…we could get to this “wilderness” experience. After discovering the ranger station closed at 3.30pm and we were not going to make it today we found another terrible private island campspot and dodged yet another storm.



How every portage should be!

The following morning we eventually found the well hidden Quetico ranger station, collected our permit allowing access to the park, and paddled on east looking forward to motorboat free waters.

Lakes Placid

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Photos to come – not enough bandwidth!!

Our one night stay in Kenora was extended to two as Mike (finally, frankly) succumbed to the bug I’d had. I nursed him dutifully under the shade of the tarp in between making runs to the campsite shop, town and to check on various items illegally plugged in and charging around the site. Timing perfect as ever, our extra day meant we avoided paddling through another thunderstorm and set off a little fresher with a flat calm lake ahead of us. 


We still made it to the brewing company…

‘Lake of the Woods’ and this next section of the trip had always held a certain magic for us – on the map it certainly looked like a paddlers paradise, and people kept saying how wild and wonderful it was. Spoilt as we have been with wilderness, it actually felt incredibly busy leaving Kenora amidst the wake of motorboats, sea-doos, houseboats and even a great big cruiser. In spite of the business we had a lovely paddle in easy conditions, although navigation is understandably more challenging: we’d bought 16 detailed maps in Winnipeg to get us through to Lake Superior and I could no longer rely on the iPad. After a possibly slightly unnerving refresher on using a compass Mike put himself in my hands… it went well until I got tired and nearly threw the map and compass overboard, at which point we decided to camp. 

The weather was fantastic again the next day and the lake much quieter as we got further from Kenora. Dodging between islands and sneaking through tiny channels – this was what we’d hoped for; surprising a couple having a skinny dip from their pontoon, not so much, but when lunchtime came we threw caution and clothes to the wind and went for a swim too. This we had also hoped for – with stints between showers stretching up to 18 (18!) days, a swim and refresh is a total delight for us and, presumably, everyone we encounter. 


We came to our portage off Lake of the Woods in sweltering heat. Arriving at ‘Vic and Dots camp’ we headed inside to ask if we could tow our boat through to the highway and to just double check if they didn’t sell cold drinks or ice cream… they didn’t, but they gave us a cold can and, worried we might melt into the tarmac, offered us a lift over the (trans canada) highway to our put-in on Kakagi lake – we couldn’t refuse! 

From Lake of the Woods we knew there was a tangle of lakes and portages to get us through to the Quetico Provincial park – so many we hadn’t even committed their names to memory for our recitation of the route. We prepared ourselves for a tough couple of days – the first of which had no fewer than 7 portages: some quick heaves over beaver dams, some slightly longer trails through the forest, and one an almost completely lost kilometre of winding rocky paths and fallen trees. This last one called for the canoe to be completely emptied and carried on Mike’s head – something we had both looked forward to and dreaded in equal measure. We walked the route through to check it existed and was passable: it was, intermittently marked with ribbons tied in the trees, but it wasn’t passable with the boat, so we made a return trip carrying the heavier bags and armed with secateurs (genius!) to clear the way. We headed back to the boat to gather the remains of our kit and have our first trial of traditional canoe portaging. Struggling to get the 100L bag back on my shoulders Mike somehow managed to disappear off along the trail. Scurrying to catch up, whilst checking each ditch he might have fallen into, I eventually caught up with him in time to see the canoe stop abruptly, surge forward again, bounce back off some unseen obstacle and then slowly, gracefully, collapse to the ground. In a fit of giggles. Whether from the heat or the exertion of carrying our own body weights in kit, or the ridiculousness situation, we were both in hysterics for some time before the canoe squeaked breathlessly: ‘please can you get me out?!’. Proper voyageurs, us… 


Portage trails were sometimes challenging 
Anyway, we will now never forget Kakagi: lake of the crystal clear water, evening swim and incredible sunset camp spot; Osipasinni where we ate blueberries on the portage and Mike picked me a lily; Sandhill which wasn’t sandy at all, and Schistose with its perfectly placed tiny island at the end of a hard day of portages – bathed in the evening sun, with a fire pit which must have been there since the fur trade, with loon ducks making their eery, funny calls all around us and even enough time for a circumnavigation swim before dinner. The best few days of the trip so far: if the top of the Winnipeg river was Jurassic park, this area was the land that time forgot. 


“Circumnavigation Island”

The next day we were due several more portages but to our delight high water levels made several of the low dams easily passable by canoe (maybe not so much by the fishing boats that followed us…). Through Pipestone Lake, Loonhaunt, a couple more small dams to haul the boat over and some ‘rapids’ which turned out to be nothing of the sort, we had another stunning day and arrived at the last dam before Rainy lake and our last big portage before Fort Frances. 

The last portage was a good track so we put the canoe on the trolley, harnessed ourselves to the painters and set off. We camped on another well placed island and watched thunderstorms roll down the lake. Another morning of paddling saw us arrive into Fort Frances for our resupply – aiming for Pithers Point park and campground we were somewhat distracted by a big hotel with a boat pontoon and tables outside almost declaring food was available… 


Bertha mixing it with the big boats


Thanks go to: 

Robert, for the lift!

Every lovely person at La place rendez-vous!

The amazing guys in customs, Fort Frances, for their patience and help.

Mike’s new favourite piece of kit: factor 60 suncream

Onwards and Upwards

thedoctorswild


Lamprey Falls

We awoke at Lamprey Falls campsite to a stunning, still morning. So did the mossies, so we didn’t linger too long. This section of paddling is through one of Manitoba’s provincial parks, where wild camping is discouraged. Fortunately, the semi-organised campsites provided by the government are pretty darn good, equipped with picnic tables, fire pits and toilets, which proved useful as Cas had seemingly picked up a bug at some point. She soldiered on, and we got back in the boat though aware that the luxury of a toilet of sorts might be quite pleasant later. We were forced to put the tent up shortly after arriving on Eaglenest Lake as a storm tore through, and got back on the water after a break of a couple of hours. We didn’t mind a shorter, broken day however, as the paddle from Lamprey to LaVasseur Island was quite stunning. Minimal moving water allowed us to really enjoy the paddling, and we pulled in to a stunning beach around mid-afternoon. We don’t think we’ve given ourselves too many easy days, so were happy to kick back for a few hours in the afternoon sun.


We were now within striking distance of Ontario, our fourth province. We enjoyed a reasonably easy paddle to the border against a bit of occasional fast water, and stopped for coffee whilst another storm brewed. Refreshed, we headed on towards Boundary Island, where we encountered an un-named set of falls guarding the way. After two failed attempts at scaling these, and about to resort to lining, we had a look at the third potential line and decided to give it a go. Having let one fishing boat through we had another look, to see another boat hurtling downstream towards us. We tried to tuck back in and he slowed rapidly on seeing us, but that simply had the effect of mixing an even larger wake with quite a punchyeddy-line, with white water splashing into Cas’s cockpit and over the spray deck. With no real option but to get out of the churning water, we paddled like fury out into the middle of the flow and literally inched our way up the falls. It was without doubt our most difficult upstream section and possibly our sketchiest moment to date thanks to the poorly timed boat. With no clear sight of us he can’t be blamed, but racing through on the plane would have produced far less wake, something many boat owners don’t seem to grasp.

Congratulating ourselves and our boat we continued on as yet another storm gathered momentum. When the thunder cracked right behind us we decided it was time for tea, and took another break before heading on up to our last dam (which we hadn’t realised was there until the day before). Whitedog Dam is the final portage before reaching the top of the Winnipeg River, and the portage site provided an adequate campsite for the night. The threatened third storm of the day amounted to little, and we both had the best sleep we’d had in days. We set out the next morning thinking we might reach Kenora, but ongoing strong currents in this high water year made progress slow. We set out on to Sand Lake, which we think must have been named before the dams were all installed, and gradually adjusted to the increase in boat traffic we were seeing. Most islands have a cottage, and many of these are now occupied for the summer so we resigned ourselves to no longer being in the wilderness. We passed through the small town of Minaki, complete with float planes and an on-the-water gas station, and found a stunning island peninsular for the night where Mike picked up his second leach. The bemused looks on the faces of most of the boats that went by suggested wild camping is not so common in these parts.


Basically says “Don’t launch here”. It was fine. 

After 235km of some of the most beautiful landscapes we have paddled through so far we finally arrived the next day at Keewatin and took the boat out of the river that has been such a great surprise, and joy. The portage here is short, into a purpose-cut channel that links to Lake of the Woods. This area has been one that we have both been looking forward to, as the myriad of islands and channels should prove to be paddling heaven. As long as the speed boats stay clear. Within minutes of arriving here we looked to our left to see a large sightseeing boat, the size of small ferry, bearing down on us. Feeling very small we carefully traced our way around the islands, surprising a small turtle who was sunbathing in the reeds. We think he now has an additional pink stripe adorning his shell, and a tale to tell his friends. Yes, we ran over a turtle.


Cas had to reign it in a bit on LOTW

We arrived at Anicinabe Park campsite in the afternoon with a forecast of increasing wind the next day. Needing to do a small resupply, and finding that Kenora is the home of the Lake of the Woods Brewing Company, this seemed like a good place for a break.

Are we nearly there yet??

Are we nearly there yet??

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A couple of days ago we crossed the provincial line into Ontario and after a quick mileage review realised we’re over halfway! (for distance at least – this next bit will be slower…). 

Here’s a round up of how we wound up in the middle of Canada:

  • Distance covered: 2900km (give or take a wiggle…)
  • Days since departure: 68
  • Paddled/portaged: 60 
  • Weather bound: 6
  • Days off off: 2 (he’s a task master…)
  • Provinces crossed: 3; remaining: 2
  • Favourite campsite: Bear camp, Alberta

Worst mosquito bite location: 

  • Cas: between toes
  • Mike: scrotum

Tick tally: Mike 2; Cas 2

Leech tally: Mike 2; Cas 1

    Halftime favourite piece of kit: 

    • Mike: water filter;
    • Cas: carbon paddle (a few mm shorter than when we bought it…)


    Nervous moments we thought we’d broken the boat: many

    Repairs to boat: 2 (superficial, luckily)

    Stow-aways: 2 (one mouse, one toad)


    Hitchhikers: 1 


    Useless trivets lost overboard: 1

    Useless trivets needed to reset the stove when it broke: 1

    Cameras destroyed due to stupidity: 1

    Times we almost fell in: 1 (yesterday)

    • Fuel used: 3L white gas, 2 small camping gas 
    • Wine gums consumed: 3.5kg (slightly alarming)
    • Whisky consumed: 3 bottles, all excellent

    Best piece of advice: burn birch bark for smoke to get rid of mozzies!

    Worst piece of advice: 

    • ‘Awful cramped: you should get another canoe and tow it behind you with your kit in it!’

     Closely followed by: 

    • ‘You should run a noodle [floatation device used by children and in aquarobics classes] down either side – improve your stability!’

    What we have learnt: this life suits us!

    What we are yet to learn: we have to confess we’re still not 100 percent clear what poison ivy and poison oak are…

    Weddings missed: 2 (and 2 more to go…)
    Friends and family missed: many 

    We love you guys!! Xxx