From the Heart of the Snake Story by Stephanie Potter Photos by Stephanie Potter, Tom Potter, Teresa Socha, Bob Jickling I find myself sitting in calm water, deep in North Eastern Yukon’s daunting mountains. My paddle feels heavy but fa- miliar, and the canoe, solid and cold beneath my knees. The frigid water runs crystal clear, provoking mixed feelings of ex- citement and uncertainty. All is silent, except the pounding in my chest. Without fully processing the situation, I gaze out over the monster lurking ahead. Questions and memories race through my mind, mixing in a blur.As we inch towards the thundering drop, my mind goes blank; instinct takes over. Imagine standing in the middle of Banff National Park 150 years ago, without the millions of people that visit the area each year, the big hotels, the ski resorts, the roads, the railway lines, and even the endless hiking trails. What’s left? Spring 2012 Vol. 39 No. 1 Quarterly Journal of the Wilderness Canoe Association Stephanie Potter, explorer/photographer/author, embraced by caribou antlers
Transcript
From the Heart of the SnakeStory by Stephanie Potter
Photos by Stephanie Potter, Tom Potter, Teresa Socha, Bob Jickling
I find myself sitting in calm water, deep in North EasternYukon’s daunting mountains. My paddle feels heavy but fa-miliar, and the canoe, solid and cold beneath my knees. Thefrigid water runs crystal clear, provoking mixed feelings of ex-citement and uncertainty. All is silent, except the pounding inmy chest. Without fully processing the situation, I gaze out
over the monster lurking ahead. Questions and memories racethrough my mind, mixing in a blur. As we inch towards thethundering drop, my mind goes blank; instinct takes over.
Imagine standing in the middle of Banff National Park150 years ago, without the millions of people that visit thearea each year, the big hotels, the ski resorts, the roads, therailway lines, and even the endless hiking trails. What’s left?
Spring 2012 Vol. 39 No. 1 Quarterly Journal of the Wilderness Canoe Association
Stephanie Potter, explorer/photographer/author, embraced by caribou antlers
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wilderness to survive, such as woodlandand barren-ground caribou, wolves,wolverines, grizzly bears, dall sheep,mountain goats, beavers, lynx, martens,whitefish, arctic grayling, and the vul-nerable peregrine falcon. The heart of therenowned Peel beats with the life ithomes. This vast land is a primordial,cultural wilderness, and too, an impor-tant fish and wildlife harvesting area forFirst Nation peoples.
Although this stunning NorthernYukon landscape is special to some, itfaces devastating threats to its delicateecological balance. The ecosystems arefragile, and in this northern climate theyare sensitive to industrial developmentand resource extraction. Demand for oil,gas, coal, uranium, and other mineralsleave them vulnerable. There is intensepressure to succumb to the world’s greed,and incrementally dismantle this ecology.With a nation hungry for instantaneousgratification, financial wealth, and athriving economy, it seems to forget thespiritual power and ecological impor-tance of natural spaces. It can be quick tostrip an area of its natural integrity.
Currently, most of the Peel Riverlandscape is unroaded and pristine, withno protection from industrial develop-ment. So far, the Yukon Government hasoffered this land to mineral extractioncompanies at extremely low prices, leav-ing the area at the fingertips of destruc-tion. If continued, new roads, railways,mines, and pipelines could annihilate themuch-debated habitat. To save this wildland, the Canadian Parks and WildernessSociety (CPAWS), the YukonConservation Society (YCS), and severalFirst Nations are fighting for its protec-tion. Their combined efforts have pres-sured the Yukon government to issue asecond, one-year withdrawal from min-eral staking in this region. Many others,in the Yukon and around the world, aresupporting this fight. As Joni Mitchell’ssong, Big Yellow Taxi exclaims, “Don’tit always seem to go / That you don’tknow what you got / Till it’s gone.” Theurgency to protect the Peel RiverWatershed is merely one of many reasons
A human soul, enclosed in breathtaking,wild, open spaces and untouched moun-tains. Fortunately, there are still placeslike that today. Where the Snake Riverslithers cold and clear for 240 kilome-tres along the west side of the Yukon /North West Territories border, is onesuch place. This awing branch of thePeel River Watershed has become thesetting for one inspiring canoeing ad-venture.
The Peel River Watershed is one ofthe largest and naturally intact, although
Waving goodbye at Duo Lake
Drop-off at Duo Lake
unprotected, ecosystems left in NorthAmerica. This ancient, 77,000 square-kilometre region is about thirteen and ahalf times the size of Prince EdwardIsland. The unbounded mountain rangesof the Watershed frame untouched taigaforests and subarctic rivers as it collectsthe waters of well-known tributaries suchas the Ogilvie, Blackstone, Hart, and the“Three Rivers,” as the Wind, Snake, andBonnet Plume are affectionately known.The Peel River Watershed creates a sanc-tuary for many species requiring its
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for travelling the Snake River, but thelandscape itself made the trip an amaz-ing and unforgettable experience.
I was born and raised in Thunder Bay,Ontario, a city perched on the NorthShore of Lake Superior. From the day Iwas born and carried out of the hospitaldoors in 1994, my parents introduced meto many outdoor activities. Thanks tokeen parents and many opportunities, I,too, have become one who loves thefresh open air, and have come to the real-ization that the outdoors has been etchedinto a piece of my puzzle.
I have been canoe tripping since theage of three. Beginning with QueticoProvincial Park and moving to WabakimiProvincial Park, my paddling has grownstronger. In 2008, our family of four andtwo paddling Yukonners packed up andheaded northeast of Whitehorse to theWind River, (see Nastawgan, Spring2009). That trip, my first Yukon adven-ture, stole a piece of my heart, andseeded a whitewater weed that flourisheswithin me. It also inspired a return to theYukon two years later and our trip downthe Snake River.
We take the plunge. Raging water pullsus towards rocks and holes. Butterfliesswarm my tummy and my heart poundsdeeply in my chest. I hear the calls fromthe stern and pull the water with all mymight. “Cross bow draw, okay, forwardhard, hard draw, hard draw!” My headexplodes with the thunder escaping fromwater crashing over the rocks, andadrenalin races through my veins. TheSnake spews white foam and throwscountless full bailers of water over myhead. With no time to do anything aboutit, I ignore the icy cold water gatheringaround my knees. My eyes stay glued todangers lurking ahead. My arms begin toache from pulling our little green canoepast this monster. Questions begin toflash in my mind. “Will we be able tomake it out? If things don’t go right, willthe canoe make it through in one piece?Will the others standing on the edge beable to help us? What will happen if wecan’t pull this off?”
Getting to the headwaters of the SnakeRiver was an adventure in itself. On July15, 2010, my family of four includingMom (Teresa Socha), Dad (Tom Potter),my brother (Andrew, who turned 13 dur-ing the trip) and me (15), and two ofYukon’s paddling veterans, Bob and
Wendy Jickling, had an early start for thelong drive from Whitehorse to Mayo forour afternoon flight. This takeoff was notfrom the sauce found on sandwiches, butfrom a short section of the Stewart Riverrunning through the small town, hiddenin the midst of Central Yukon. After en-
Andrew on the portage from Duo Lake to the Snake River
sub-arctic bush began with soggy tents,wet packs, and drenched canoeists. A dayand a half of rain made the hilly three-kilometre portage from Duo Lake to theSnake River a trail of mud soup. Tospread the work out, we hauled threeheavy boats, two bursting dry bags, abundle of paddles, and a couple of fish-ing rods over the hill and down to theriver on the first day. The second day, invoyageur style, we carried the rest of ourpossessions and supplies over the portagein short sections. This method, carryingthe gear several hundred metres and thenreturning for the next load, gave us fre-quent short breaks and kept the gear andcampers closer together. It also allowedus to point out or warn others of deepmud, fresh blueberries, caribou, and newwolf tracks. Although these days wereexhausting, they made slipping the boatsinto the Snake River extremely reward-ing. From the muddy pile of packs, ca-noes, and exhausted campers at the put-in, to the take-out point at Taco Bar,where the same six smelly canoeists gotpicked up sixteen days later, the SnakeRiver drops about 1120 metres over 240kilometres, an average gradient of 4.7metres per kilometre.
While slithering down the Snake, wewere all greeted by the firm hands ofchallenging lessons and exciting experi-ences as well as unforgettable memories.One day, just minutes on the river, wecame across a swift set of rapids. Thefirst two boats waited in an eddy towatch the last boat, come through.Riding a high, Andrew let go of his pad-dle to wave a hello of excitement.Unprepared, he was not able to make adraw when needed. Scrambling to turnthe boat back to the right direction,Andrew and Dad slid past us and disap-peared around the next corner, leavingBob yelling: “See you at Taco Bar!”
For me, seeing the need for speedy re-actions and the consequences of missinga manoeuvre was a moment of realiza-tion: “We need to be careful out here,and solid whitewater paddling abilitiesare important.” The experience in thewilderness of our previous canoe trips
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during an hour and a half of turbulence,the small but spirited Single-Turbo Ottermade an alarmingly fast descent into theheart of the Mackenzie Mountain Rangeand onto Duo Lake. Here, we unloadedour heavy packs and three canoes, andleft our pilot to enjoy a few minutes offly-fishing off the wing of his workingcompanion. When all was prepared forhis departure, we paused to wavefarewell. With mixed feelings, wewatched our sole connection to everyoneand everything we had left behind disap-
pear into the distance. We soon stoodalone on a small rise surrounded by tow-ering mountains. In this short moment ofdisconnection, there was an instant ofnervousness, doubt, relaxation, and ex-citement, a bag of mixed emotions. Howwill this river compare to my previouspaddling experiences? Will the chal-lenges be appropriate? What happens ifwe get into trouble? Can I even begin topaint a picture of the experience yet tocome?
Our time spent alone in the sparse
Stephanie fly-fishing at the confluence of Snake River and Reptile Creek
The three canoes
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was greatly appreciated. Throughout thesixteen days on and around the river, mylove for paddling flourished. I became astronger bow paddler and took a newleap forward by taking turns paddlingfrom the stern. Seeing this new, rarelyexplored world from the stern seemed todeepen my appreciation of and connec-tion to the ever-changing environment ofthe Peel Watershed. In this delicate areawhere growth is restrained but burstingwith life, I learned to see through a newheart and a new pair of eyes. The SnakeRiver, along with its brothers and sisters,has been here from a time when a humanlife was but a speck of dust. Formed byMother Earth’s movement, shaped by thepaintbrush of glaciers, and breathed tolife by the ecosystems that call it home,the Snake River has become a breathtak-ing environment in the threatening handsof change. I was given the chance to loveit, and I accepted it with open arms.
The Snake River meanders its waythrough a landscape difficult to capturewith words. Its beauty to the eye is stun-ning, yet it homes something more. Itplays a soothing chorus in the back-ground, plucking the notes from thestrings of my heart. I now sit here think-ing, “How can I describe these feelings?”Let’s start with a visual. Picture this: acool day, the wind whispering in thebushes, the hum of a mosquito, threeboats loaded with all of our needs, moun-tains cutting shapes in the clouds, a cold,crystal-clear river winding through anever-ending valley, and ear-to-earsmiles of excitement, nervousness, suc-cess, fatigue, and anticipation liningeveryone’s faces. When I think back tothe Snake, it’s these moments that playback in my mind. Although the river andthe wilderness that surrounds this areapresented many challenges, such as find-ing campsites, encountering limit-push-ing rapids, long portages, fatiguing days,challenging weather, and stressful deci-sions, none became too overwhelming.
In general, the Snake begins as a sur-real mountain river of cold, clear water.With tight corners, wave-trains that hideboat-splitting rocks, and sneaky strainers
As they successfully pulled up alongsidethe rest of the boats, Bob’s face, lined bya big grin, broke out into song. “We alllive in a yellow submarine, a yellow sub-marine, a yellow submarine…!” So, un-less you want to live the rest of your triptagged with a classic name such as “Theyellow submarine,” avoid the oversizedwave-trains in an open boat.
The cold, clear, rapid-strung waters ofthe Snake River were those that hummedthe accompaniment to the majority ofour trip, although the start and the end
and boils, one has to be on their toes andready to react. A note to those who enjoybig, rolling waves: “Sometimes they’rebigger than they look!” Through one setof rapids, the boys, paddling a big, yel-low boat, got themselves into one ofthese wave trains. Large waves can befun, yet this set was a bit bigger than ex-pected. Waves poured into their openboat. With a consequential swimmingpool growing in the bottom of their boat,they made a run for shore, desperatelytrying to keep the gunnels facing the sky.
Looking down the Snake River valley with Wendy
Stephanie carrying the pinhole camera and tripod to the summit of the 14-hour hike
comes buggy, offering fewer decentcampsites. For those planning a tripdown the Snake, I suggest you don’t rushyour time in the mountains and savourdays to rest, read, and hike. Once themountains are behind you, push on forabout three long days to meet the PeelRiver and fly out at Taco Bar, or continueon for a further three days to FortMcPherson.
The Snake River is known for its hik-ing opportunities. Because the water’sedge is so close to the surroundingmountains, a bird’s eye view of theSnake’s watershed is “easily” attained.With no trails apart from those etched inthe mountainsides by the wildlife theyhome, hikes are a whole new adventure.The terrain is variable, from alpinemeadows to sheer cliffs, and the vastnessof the Snake River and its surroundingsalways have new journeys in store.
One 14-hour hike, a day’s paddle be-
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differed slightly. For the first two to threedays on the river, the Snake is a low-vol-ume, rolling, twisting mountain stream.At Reptile Creek (about 10 kilometresfrom Duo Lake) the water content dou-bles. Here, the Snake is very narrow, run-ning continuous class-two rapids throughtight canyons, sharp bends, and endlessbushes. During the mountainous part ofthe river there are few trees and plenty ofcamp sites on endless gravel bars. Whenthe Snake leaves the mountains (145kilometres from the headwaters), it slowsdrastically, eating up muddy banks. Thewater darkens, and sticks and trees findtheir way towards the Peel River, espe-cially when the waters are high. Theseslow, less scenic hours found at the endof the trip can make for a long, exhaust-ing two or three days. From the end ofthe mountains, large trees appear aboveon the muddy banks and lying dead inthe middle of the river. The forest be-
yond Reptile Creek, led us up over path-less valleys. We climbed in the sun andthe rain, through thick willows and rac-ing streams; we passed many jagged rockfaces and daunting summits; we grewcloser and closer to an unexplainablemagic. Whether it was through menaceexpressed by dark piercing summits, orlove gently blowing through lush, peace-ful alpine meadows, I was bound to re-member those endless exhausting hours.I felt my connection to this wild placegrow.
We left camp in driving rain at about10 in the morning, first ferrying acrossthe Snake River to begin our 14-hour ad-venture on foot. From here, we hiked,climbed, and scrambled up and downbanks, through tangles of dwarf birchand alder, and splashed our way throughcrystal-clear streams. We paused only torefill water bottles and devour a shortlunch. Still well short of the summit, the
At the summit of the 14-hour hike, looking down the valley of the Snake River
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day neared the dinner hour and our tum-mies began to rumble; we soon came tothe daunting realization that lunch wasthe only food that made it past camp. Thesnacks had been forgotten. So, withempty bellies and courageous hearts, wecontinued our trek to the summit of ahigh mountain pass, listening to Bob’sdry, meaningless encouragements; “It’sjust up there, only around this corner!”Nine hours after leaving camp, we finallycame face to face with what we had beenseeking. We were standing at the heightof a mountain pass, looking over a smalllake at the convergence of five valleys.With closed eyes, I could paint a peace-ful picture of herds of caribou and otherwild beings feeling at bay in this valley.Now, when I close my eyes, no matterwhere I am, I can still feel my excite-ment, smell the clean breeze, and see thebreathtaking landscape of serenity.
Standing on crumbling rocks andpatches of snow, surrounded by sky-highpeaks, my brother and I were asked, “Sowhat do you think?” The only answer weshared was speechlessness. Our voiceshad been lost in the silent echo of thevalleys washing over its visitors. I wasone of few people that had the opportu-nity to stand on the heights of that pass.Here, we sat, recuperating and taking inthe inspiring view. We also capturedsome of the sights and feelings with apinhole camera. Then it was time to re-turn to camp. With toothpicks to hold oureyelids open, we placed one foot in frontof the other and headed back to whereour hike had begun. When “home” wasfinally beneath our feet, it was midnight.After a speedy dinner, we thanked theYukon for leaving the lights on all sum-mer before laying down our heads. Wewere asleep before our exhausted headshit the pillow.
This experience on foot, a once-in-a-lifetime journey, was filled with emotions,suspense, fatigue, and learning. I felt thatliving an adventure of such power affectedme more deeply than I could imagine.Although I was only away from camp andthe river for one long day, strong connec-tions between the land and me were
All six of us
Bob and Wendy taking on the last big set of rapids before leaving the mountains
formed. Now, these connections tie me tothe vastness and heart-stopping beauty ofthe Snake River Watershed. After return-ing home to Thunder Bay, I noticed howmy relations with the Yukon and mygrowth as a person have not weakened. Inow feel my ties to nature that surroundsme in Thunder Bay are strengthening, andmy love for canoeing and the outdoors isflourishing. Having such experiences inmy pocket has instigated more adventuresand learning. Trying new ways of doingcan move you forward with new ways ofseeing and living.
For our family trip, the Snake River
and its surroundings were very appropri-ate. The river and the land it meandersthrough presented us with challenges, yetones that we could safely navigate. Theweather was often less than favourable,but it was a factor we were very well pre-pared for (it’s a must), therefore, impos-ing a lesser impact on the day. As for thelength, sixteen days was good, but Iwouldn’t have wanted it to be muchlonger, or shorter. This length allowed forabout four to five rest-and-hiking days,the other days were spent flying to andfrom the river and paddling. When thetrip neared the end and the speed of the
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river slowed drastically, the days seemedto become harder as attention spansdropped. As fatigue built, the nightsseemingly got shorter and the days,longer. If carrying on to Fort McPherson,more rest and rain days should be addedso physical and mental rest is available.For me, the length and structure of ourtrip was ideal.
It was here on the Snake that I lost apiece of my heart during a dance in thearms of a beautiful, wild place. When Istepped out of the plane and lay mysoaked feet on solid ground the first day,I knew that there was no other place inthe world that I’d rather be. Living a
dream is not meant to be easy. It takestime, effort, courage, dedication, andsupport. A special adventure as mySnake River trip was to me, is not a dailyoccurrence, but a goal that is worth pur-suing. I was living in, and travellingthrough, what I could call home. Thissafe welcoming place was my tent,campsites found on steep gravely banksof a speedy mountain stream, the heart ofa canyon where glacier rivers and siltystreams blend into the river, the countlesstributaries before the Snake swallows upthe muddy banks and begins to cook up abatch of mud soup. I felt peace in thesesurroundings. Many people label home
as a warm, dry area enclosed in foursolid walls, but my definition is neverlimited to this plain, emotionless de-scription. Would you be able to call adown sleeping bag zipped up in a soakedtent on the side of a rocky bank, with nosign of human habitation within hun-dreds of kilometres, home? To me, theseplaces offer as much satisfaction andsafety as what city folk might describe as“home.”
I have been lucky enough to find mo-ments where I can slip away from thechaos that life presents each day and intoa world of serenity. It is here that I haveplanted my feet and left parts of my innerself to flourish. With the help of thesemoments, I will grow and shine. Onceagain, I thank the Yukon and the SnakeRiver for leaving the lights on all sum-mer and offering my friends and familyan amazing adventure through its wildland.
Bob and Stephanie taking on the same rapids
Tom and Andrew taking on the same rapids
Stephanie in the cockpit of the plane onthe flight back to Mayo
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My pinhole camera
Paddling the Snake River was a journey of a lifetimethat I will cherish forever. During the trip we capturedmany treasured memories, stories of special events,paintings of breathtaking scenes, and many pictures.Most people travel with a “regular” camera and spendplenty of time snapping away with digital features, re-turning home with hundreds, or thousands, of picturesto throw onto a computer, possibly used to make a bookor a photo album, and show the best to friends andfamily. After a few months, the majority of these pic-tures have been forgotten. Certainly, this is exactlywhat happened to our hundreds of digital pictures. Butwe also did return home with a handful of black-and-white prints meaning more to us than merely an imageof a scene. These pictures illustrate a relationship withboth the landscape we had photographed and with theintricate shapes of light marked on the paper. Takenwith a pinhole camera, these grayscale photographswere developed in groups along the way. This methodof photography captured a different side of the land-scape, and illustrated a tranquil way of life.
A pinhole camera is a simple camera, (often madeout of a wooden box, a stove pipe, or a cookie tin), op-erated manually without a lens, using solely a light-proof box and an aperture the size of a pin. With light-sensitive paper, our exposures ranged from thirty sec-onds to three minutes. During the evenings we woulddevelop the pictures taken over the course of the dayusing light-proof containers and different developingchemicals to bring the picture to life on negative prints.When added, the length of the set up, the exposure, andthe developing of each individual picture took about 15to 20 minutes. Due to the size of the photographicplates we only brought 25 of them, limiting our photo-graphic choices and opportunities and forcing us toevaluate our shots carefully. Over a 16-day trip, we re-turned home with approximately 13 successful picturesout of 25 shots.
Pinhole photography made me stop and think beforedoing. During the expedition, I found that I was alwayson the lookout and had to see a photo-op before it ar-rived. This type of photography not only expanded myphotographic horizons, but through the freedom of anew way of doing, gave me new ways of seeing. Afterfinding the perfect scene and lighting, and spending thetime to expose and develop the paper, the final imagesencapsulated a powerful relationship between photog-rapher and landscape. Through pinhole photography,another piece of me was left wild and free in the val-leys of the Snake River. The eye of a pinhole camera, alife-changing hike, and 16 short days away from “civi-lization,” all nurtured a relationship with this remoteand breathtaking vastness.
Andrew, Stephanie, and Bob taking a pinhole picture
Pinhole picture: three canoes
The negative copies of the pinhole pictures hanging to dry on thebug tent
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Twenty-seven years since 1985, minusthree looking in from the outside, makes24 and that is a long time to be editingNastawgan. It’s therefore time for me togo and hand over the editorial duties to anew Editor-In-Chief. Those 24 yearshave been an unforgettable and most cre-ative time that has seen our journal growfrom a special kind of club newsletter toa full-colour journal admired by a world-wide canoeing community, as alwayswithout any advertising on its pages.
Starting with this Spring issue, thenew Editor-In-Chief will be a personknown very well to the WCA member-
Thank you, Toni!After many years at the helm ofNastawgan, Toni Harting is getting readyto pass the editorial torch to me. Fear not– Toni’s doing fine for an old guy, al-though he appears more reluctant to dashnaked into the clear waters of KillarneyLake these days. Ever pragmatic and notthe one to dwell on the past, Toni wantsto focus on completion of his latest book,luxuriate even more in the company ofhis lovely wife Ria, and cuddle with hisfeline friend Alfie.
Nastawgan, as we know it today –printed in full colour and available online– is a worthy achievement and easily thebest canoeing publication in NorthAmerica, if not in the world. A labour oflove and countless hours spent on read-ing, arranging, re-arranging, communi-cating, cajoling, pushing, probing, think-ing, thanking, learning, loving, and aboveall taking pride in a job well done. Toni
Published by the Wilderness Canoe AssociationNastawgan is an Anishinabi word meaning “the way or route”
CPM #40015547ISSN 1828-1327
The WILDERNESS CANOE ASSOCIATION is a non-profit organization made up of individuals interested inwilderness travel, mainly by canoe and kayak, but also in-cluding backpacking and winter trips on both skis andsnowshoes. The club publishes a quarterly journal,
Nastawgan, to facilitate the exchange of information andideas of interest to wilderness travellers, organizes an ex-tensive program of trips for members, runs a few basicworkshops, and is involved in environmental issues rele-vant to wilderness canoeing.
WCA ActivitiesWant to view all club activities, learnmore about our extensive outings pro-gram for members, or organize andpost a trip? It’s easy! Visit theOutings section of the WCA website:www.wildernesscanoe.ca
Contributors’Guidelines
If you are planning to submit any mate-rial for possible publication inNastawgan, you would do the editors andcertainly yourself a great favour by firstconsulting the WCA Guidelines forContributors to Nastawgan. These guide-lines should be followed as much as pos-sible by all contributors, so that the edi-torial team can more effectively edit yourcontribution to make it fit the Nastawganstyle. The latest draft of the guidelines isavailable on the WCA website.
ship: Aleks Gusev, who has been a veryimpressive, powerful, creative, and activeChairman of the Board of the WCA forseveral years and who will now apply hishard-working persona to the benefit ofour Nastawgan. By handing over the ed-itorial cut-and-paste keyes to him I couldnot have found a better, more dedicatedperson than Aleks to take Nastawgan toever higher levels of near-perfect quality.I am deeply grateful to the membershipand the various past Boards of Directorsfor the trust they have always shown meand the freedom they have given me todo the editor’s job the way I saw best.
And I am also deeply grateful to the edi-torial team who have done, and willsurely keep on doing, a marvellous job inassisting their “boss” in creating a jour-nal we all can be very proud of. I willsurely miss your contributions and com-ments and screwed-up deadlines. But Iam happy to announce that I will remaina small part of the editorial team by tak-ing on the responsibilities of the PhotosEditor, a job I really look forward to. Ithank all WCA members for letting mebe their Editor-In-Chief for such a long,wonderful time.
Toni Harting
Editorial-out
Editorial-inis leaving a legacy that we collectivelycherish and will continue to nurture.
Although determined in his decisionto relinquish the Editor-in-Chief role andthus pass the responsibility and the op-portunity to me, Toni will remain in-volved with Nastawgan. I’m certainlycounting on him to provide his generousand indispensable advice in his signature,tell-it-like-it-is manner. Toni will alsocontinue to edit your photographs forNastawgan.
In the background, the transition hasbeen taking place for some time. It willcontinue over the next couple of issues,as both Toni and I gain confidence in me.We’re blessed to have a great editorialteam in place and an enormous wealth ofexperience and inspiration for future arti-cles in you – our readership. Toni, thanksfor getting us here.
Aleks Gusev
NASTAWGAN SPRING 2012 11
DeadlinesThe deadline dates for submitting mate-rial for the four issues we publish eachyear are: the first days of February, May,August, and November. If you havequestions, please contact the editor; ad-dresses on the last page.
Pogamasing, the Story of a NorthernLake by Andy Thomson, published in2011 by Why Knot Books, Erin, ON, ph.519-833-1242, hardcover, 304 pages
Review by Toni Harting
Over the years, quite a few WCA mem-bers have paddled the Spanish River,north of Lake Huron, starting with eitherthe west branch from Biscotasing (seethe trip report on page 13 of this issue),or the east branch from Duke Lake.About 13 km downriver from the pointwhere the two branches meet, the rail-road crosses the river, and 1 km down-river from that point a historically impor-tant portage exists on river right. This600-metre portage leads to a small num-ber of buildings of varying sizes on theeastern shore of Lake Pogamasing, anabout 16-km-long, rather narrow lakethat is quite symptomatic of what hap-pened during the development in manyparts of the Canadian wilderness in thepast century and a half. I quote from the
OUTINGSCOMMITTEE REPORT
FOR 2011The WCA Outings Committee iscomposed of Bill Ness (Chair),and Mary Perkins. Their collectiverole is to encourage members tomake available to others in theclub opportunities to get togetherto paddle, ski, hike, camp, andjust plain have fun together. TheWCA and the Outings Committeewould like to thank all those whovolunteered their time and enthu-siasm to make these outings avail-able to their fellow club paddlers.
In 2011, there were a total of 40outings, social events, and grouplearning activities offered. This com-pares to 56 in 2010, 47 in 2009, 49in 2008, 53 in 2007 and 2006, and 58in 2005. These activities are catego-rized as follows, with the four previ-ous years in parentheses for compar-ison:
Duration of Outings: (Does not in-clude educational or social events):Day: 19 (18, 18, 14, 27) —Weekend: 12 (21, 25, 14, 21) —Longer: 5 (7, 4, 8, 5)
Educational Activities: Winter PoolSessions, Intermediate WhitewaterClinic, Whitewater Training Day,Introduction to Moving Water.
Social Event: Paddlers’ Pub:Attendance at last January’sPaddlers’ Pub was an abysmal 18,with no participants from othercanoe/kayak clubs or the generallocal paddling community, despitewide publicity. Consequently, thisevent has been discontinued. Manythanks to Mary Perkins for her ef-forts in organizing this event.
Gary James suggests some BillMason films that you can watchfor free:http://www.nfb.ca/film/waterwalkerhttp://www.nfb.ca/film/path_of_the_paddle_solo_whitewaterhttp://www.nfb.ca/film/path_of_the_paddle_doubles_whitewater/
book: “I was amazed to learn how LakePogamasing, a medium-sized and remotelake, was connected to so many signifi-cant developments in Ontario andCanadian history. A number of the majorplayers were present at the Pog: theAnishnabe, fur traders, railway builders,surveyors and lumbermen. As well, keydevelopments in our country’s historyleft an indelible mark on our area. Eventsand milestones, such as the Robinson-Huron Treaty, the building of the firsttranscontinental railway across Canada,the demise of the fur trade, theDepression, the Second World War andthe development of the wilderness forrecreation all had an influence.” Each ofus paddling the Spanish and who has theleast bit of interest in the country they’repaddling through, would do wise to con-sult this profusely illustrated book andlearn in exquisite detail about LakePogamasing and its fascinating history.Indeed, a genuine treasure of a book foreveryone loving the Canadian North.
Book Review
12 NASTAWGAN SPRING 2012
Paddle theDon River
May 6, 2012Join us for the annual Manulife Paddlethe Don River day on Sunday, May 6,2012. This 2-3 hour paddle starts atErnest Thompson Seton Park (enter viaWilket Creek Park on the west side ofLeslie Street, north of Eglinton Ave.East) and winds its way south for about10 km to the Keating Channel at LakeOntario. Members of the WCA will behelping out as volunteer weir-watchersalong the way.
The river is flooded for this event sothere will be moving water, swifts, andrapids. There are three weirs; the firsttwo must be portaged and the third maybe run. Bring your whitewater canoe,paddling gear for cold water, and a cam-era. The river offers a unique view of thecity landscape, city wilderness, andmaybe wildlife.
The takeout is located at 170 VilliersStreet at the northwest corner of VilliersStreet and the Don Roadway. Here youwill find free entertainment and food anddrink for purchase (or you can bring yourown lunch). A free shuttle bus will takeyou back to the start where you can pickup your car and drive back to the takeoutto pick-up your canoe.
This event is free, but you must regis-ter on-line in advance. It fills up quickly,so register early. You can also help raisemoney to support regeneration projectswithin the Don watershed by completinga pledge form from the following web-site.
Participants MUST sign-up at thePaddle the Don website http://www.paddlethedon.ca to receive registrationnews and updates. Further informationon this event is also available on thiswebsite. (You can also contact GaryJames at [email protected] and416-512-6690 for assistance only.)
FOOD FOR PADDLERSWe had paddled with Dave and Dawne Robinson on several WCA day outings previ-ously but not on a trip. This past summer they joined us on our trip on the ClearwaterRiver. We enjoyed their company very much as well as the new expanded menu.Shepherd’s Pie was a big hit and we had a perfect evening to enjoy it – beautiful camp-site, no bugs, and lovely weather.
Shepherd’s Pie (6-8 servings)2 pounds ground lamb1 package Zo-Fu shredded dehydrated pork (found in Chinese grocery stores), optional3 cloves garlic, chopped1 tbsp rosemary1 tbsp dried parsley1 tsp sage OR 2 tbsp soya sauce OR 2 tbsp Bovril, optional2 red peppers, roasted, chopped1 zucchini, chopped1 pint of cherry tomatoes, halved1 medium red onion, chopped1 bunch green onions, chopped3 carrots, shredded1 small package frozen peas1 small cauliflower or broccoli, chopped1 small package frozen peaches and cream corn, optional1 jar French’s french-fried onions (found in the condiment section of the grocery store)! pound of cheese (asiago, parmesan, or feta)3 packages Idaho mashed potatoes, choose plain, cheese, or garlic according to taste
Preparation in advance: Brown ground lamb in a skillet. Add garlic, rosemary, andparsley as meat is cooking. Cool mixture then dehydrate. Veggies are chopped up rela-tively small but if you want to save time, just use a frozen chopped veggie mix instead.Cook veggies until tender, then dehydrate.
Prior to serving: Rehydrate the lamb by covering with water and heating. For variety,add Zo Fu to the lamb mixture as well as sage or soya sauce or Bovril as the meat is re-hydrating. Rehydrate the veggies by covering with water and heating. Prepare the pota-toes according to the package instructions.
Note: If constructing ‘pie’ buffet-style, lay down meat first, then veggies then potatolayer. Next add a layer of cheese and then the French-fried onions. If you have a largeenough outback oven or Dutch oven, layer in one pot and slightly brown top of potatoesbefore adding final onion and cheese layers.
If you would like to share your favourite tripping recipes, please contact Barb Young, 12Erindale Crescent, Brampton, Ont. L6W 1B5; [email protected].
NASTAWGAN SPRING 2012 13
Intro:Route: Biscotasing to the Elbow. Somecanoeing with lots of wading and lin-ing.Date: August 27-Sept 5, 2010WCA members on the trip: Dave andMary Cunningham, Bill and Hsioh-fanStevenson, Andrea Fulton, Gary James.Photos by trip members.
Day 1: Toronto to Windy LakeProvincial Park.We arrived at our “patch of dirt with apicnic table” in the dark to find Daveand Mary already set up and enjoying anight cap at our shared campsite. Garyand I were quick to join in. The park,although unexceptional, served its pur-pose for our one-night stopover enrouteto the train station in Cartier. ProvincialPark rates are getting to be unreason-able at $46.25 for a campsite and$12.50 for each additional vehicle. Inmy book that is a bit much to camp onthe ground and to find “comfort” in anouthouse even if it does have runningcold water!
Day 2: Biscotasing to the IslandCampsite.We were up early to secure our break-fast reservations for six at the Hwy.Rest Stop. To our surprise, this restau-rant was closed and out of business! Weneeded to look no further than directlyacross the street in the “town” ofCartier to find the Pine GroveRestaurant. Look for the only otherbuilding in the area as well as anadorable free-range, pot-bellied pig sta-tioned in the parking lot. Our big break-fast was delicious and the proprietor /waiter Teddy was a real character. He“stole” my Blackberry and my hatwhen he passed by our table and won-dered, based on my two-dollar tip, if Iwas looking for “something more” thanjust breakfast? Too funny!
Full of food, we travelled further upthe street, turned left, and continued
just a short distance to arrive at the un-manned Cartier train station in time forour 10 a.m. departure. Spanish RiverOutfitters (SRO) from Fox Lake Lodgearrived and made good on their prom-ise to deliver our Ontario ProvincialPark Permits ($10 per night per per-son), our train tickets (which we col-lected on the train), and to co-ordinatethe shuttle of three cars from Cartier toFox Lake Lodge and delivery to the
Elbow for our convenient getaway atthe end of our trip. SRO staffers werevery friendly and efficient.
The train was delayed in Sudbury sowe kept busy by relaxing in the glori-ous sunshine. We ate our boxed lunchin the shade of the train station, whichhas washroom facilities but no runningwater. The train finally arrived inCartier, over two hours late, at 12:15p.m. I expected the Budd car to be at-
Spanish River, West BranchAndrea Fulton
14 NASTAWGAN SPRING 2012
tached to a longer train and was surprised to see thatthe train was only three cars in length with two aircon-ditioned passenger cars and one baggage car. Our ca-noes were loaded with the help of VIA workers wholifted them into the train and carefully stacked the ca-noes three high, fully loaded with all our gear. The VIACrew were all friendly and good spirited.
The train ride to Biscotasing revealed good viewsfrom the train of the river and of the shocking lackof water! There were approximately 20 other peopleon the train, most of whom were f ishermen antici-pating a great catch of pike, pickerel, and bass.When we arrived at Biscotasing, we were competingwith at least three other smaller canoe groups forcampsites. We were the last to put in our canoes,after taking some time to check out the “town” ofBisco which is basically comprised of nothing morethan a small General Store with an LCBO, and alarge truck full of beer bottle empties. We paid our$1 per person canoe launch fees and were on thewater at 3 p.m.
The weather was fantastic, but as we rounded ourfirst turn into Biscotasing Lake the warm southern headwinds came to challenge us. We hunkered down tobrave the whitecaps and the strong gusts of wind thattook away Dave and Mary’s map. Along the way westopped briefly to gather firewood, before finding agreat campsite on the island on the northwest side (justnorth of the km 155 mark on the map) near aptly namedWindy Point. This is a great site, with a high (if a bitunstable) kitchen table / cooking area, and quite a fewtent pads.
Day 3: Biscotasing Lake to Bizett Rapids.To avoid a repeat of yesterday’s headwinds, we all de-cided to get up early and get on the water before break-fast – 8 a.m. to be exact. Fuelled by only coffee andhalf an apple, we arrived safely at the Bisco Dam andsettled in for a swim off the dock. Note that there is ashortcut to get over the dam that can be found at theend of the bay to the right of the docks. We portagedLillie Falls and Lillie Rapids although we did watchothers line the latter. We also portaged StovedoorRapids. Lots of glorious sunshine.
Our campsite at Bizett Rapids was nice enough, butit presented its own unique challenges, including a“goat trail” down a very steep and lengthy rockface toreach the water, and few tent pads. It did, however, havea nice clifftop firepit for our evening campfire as wellas an enchanted moss-covered location for the treasurechest, which was located just the other side of theportage trail.
NASTAWGAN SPRING 2012 15
Day 4:Lot of lining today through BridgeRapids and the West Branch LoggingBridge. The footing was manageablebut tricky in places. Gary and Andreateamed up to help our trip partnersthrough the rapids. What fun! Sitesfrom Bizett Rapids to our campsite atCavana Lake were not great. Few wouldbe suitable for a group of our size withfour tents.
Day 5:We can only imagine what this riverwould be like under normal water lev-els. It is really beautiful here – tallpines, rugged, jagged rocky shorelines,and sheer cliffs. We swam a lot today.Our lunch spot at the bottom of therapids was very nice and the deep-waterswimming was great and refreshing.Since the day was so hot, we swamagain at a very small island that houseda fish drying rack. Great spot; so muchsun!
Day 6:We portaged the C3 rapids and then therain came. It rained and rained andrained. We were soaked to the skinupon arrival at our campsite for theevening. Gary, bless him, pulled off a“Presto / Change-o” trick and “poof ”our tarp was set up! I kid you not… Iswear the tarp was up in 60 secondsflat. We noted that the water wasslower-moving along this stretch andswimming / bathing was unpleasant dueto the mucky bottom and leaches.
Day 7:We awoke to foggy skies. The weatherwarmed a wee bit and we were blessedwith some pockets of sun. Today was along day of paddling: on the water at9:30 a.m. and off after 5 p.m. While wewere able to run a few swifts, the late-afternoon paddle through flatwater waslong and boring. We bypassed theportage to Pogamasing Lake, althoughwe’ve heard that this lake makes a niceday trip. We saw remnants of old log-ging bridges at Sheahan. We camped atthe site just south of Pogamasing right
at the swift. It is up high and has sev-eral nice tent pads.
Day 8:Rain and rain and more treacherous lin-ing. This was supposed to be a white-water trip. Damn that dam! We pulledthe canoes out a day early at the Elbowand drove all the way home to Toronto.
Memorable Moments:Andrea accidentally plunging face-firstin a small pool while lining mid rapid.The SUN!! OMG –Four days of unre-lenting, cloudless sunshine. I never,ever thought that there could be such a
16 NASTAWGAN SPRING 2012
thing as “too much sun.”Lots of fire wood and lots of birch
bark.No bugs.Two noisy white cranes making an
early morning racket and then flying offtogether.
The conversation with the hunters onbear baiting (they perch in a blind in atree and bait the area with chickenparts) – despicable!
Hsioh-fan can really “rock aportage!” You GO girl!
Group dynamics and team work.Hearing the train periodically while
in the “wilderness.”Great gourmet cooking (slow-
roasted salmon with roasted tomato andpearl cousous, Rock’in Moroccan Stew,fresh-baked biscuits and scones, beefstew….yum!).
NASTAWGAN SPRING 2012 17
It was early in September when I got myepiphany. A September many, manyyears ago. I had just gotten out of thearmy and it was three-plus weeks tillschool started. Too late to get a short-term job so I started to think about whatelse I could do. I had some army muster-ing-out pay so it seemed like the righttime to take a trip. But what kind of trip?A cross-country road trip? A campingtrip to the Rocky Mountains? What abouta canoe trip? I lived in Michigan backthen, and Ontario was just a border hopaway. And the map showed that northernOntario had many rivers that flowed toJames Bay or Hudson Bay. The Winisk,the Albany, the Attawapiskat, the Ekwan,the Missinaibi, the Fawn, and many moreall flowed north. Away from roads andending in salt water. I talked with abuddy and a canoe trip seemed like thebest choice. We settled on the MissinaibiRiver. It had road access to the put-in andtrain service back from tide water atMoosonee. Those logistics would holdtrip costs down.
Little did I know the work, the danger,the misery that a wilderness canoe tripwould involve for the inexperienced andthe unprepared. We took our little puptent (no rain fly), some cans from mymom’s pantry, an old aluminumGrumman canoe that had been layingabout the neighbour’s yard for years, andwe lit out. Not quite like Huck Finn, butnot too far off from it.
After a stop at Sault Ste. Marie forsome maps and some more groceries, weput in at Missinaibi Lake and started ourjourney. About the same time the rainstarted. It would rain for 14 out of the 18days we were on the river. The tent andsleeping bags (who knew how to keepstuff dry back in 1971?) both descendedinto a soggy morass. So did we.We struggled around the rapids. Ourmaps did not have the portages markedon them. We made many poor guesses asto which side of the river the portage wason. Sometimes the choice was made toolate and we had to live with it, strugglingthe canoe and gear down the wrong side
of the river and without a good trail. Wehad no tarp to protect us from the rain,and many evenings on shore were a hardeffort to light the fire and keep it goingduring driving rainstorms. The tent neverdid properly dry and it provided no oasisfrom the elements that were lined upagainst us on that trip.
We made it out at Moosonee. Tookthe train back south to Cochrane. Wewere wet, dirty, hungry, and almostbeaten. Yet we were filled with amaze-ment at the extent and the beauty of thiswonderful country that we had just pad-dled through. It would fill my vacationallotment for the next 40 years. And, overtime, we would get better at staying dry,at being fed, and at overcoming all of themany obstacles.
But never would we get enough of thecountry. No never. We had been struckwhile on our road to Damascus and noth-ing would ever be the same.
Ever.Greg Went
The Road to Damascus
Not so Great Moments:Hearing the train at 4:30 in the morn-ing!
Leeches – everywhere. Ick.Healthy, shallow lakes do not make
for good swimming.Water levels were soooooo low.Few suitable campsites for a group
with four tentsHeadwinds!Andrea picking up small boulders
while lining and chucking them out theway in a desperate and futile attempt toraise water levels.
Too much rain.Scouting the “rapids” – there really
weren’t any.
coughing. We had no idea whatmight be happening. Had we un-knowingly put our tent over a circleof puffballs that were now releasingtheir poisonous spores? Was theresome strange fungus underneath?Whatever it was, the need to vacate
the tent became overwhelming,so out we burst: wheezing,hacking, and coughing.
It was only after we hadcleared our lungs, caught ourbreath, and calmed down thatwe found out what had hap-pened. Dave had decided tomake sure his second can ofspray still worked since it wasold, from a previous trip. Beinga very careful camper, he hadwalked to the far edge of thecampsite, stood facing awayfrom the tents, and released asmall squirt of the spray intothe air.
Well, I guess that mist wascarried by a wandering puff ofwind back through the site andright into our tent. We had beensprayed!
So our caution is: if such asmall puff of bear spray couldcause so much discomfort,
imagine how frightening it would beto spray a bear as it pushed its noseinto your vestibule and have thatspray blow full-blast back into yourface – a likely scenario given theclose quarters of the encounter. Frommy experience, I know I will not con-sider using bear spray while in mytent. In fact, I would be very cautioususing bear spray at all.
I might check out that laser sling-shot, though!
18 NASTAWGAN SPRING 2012
Beware the Bear….Spray!Beth Bellaire
On the near-North rivers that we havetravelled, we have “met” severalbears, but all have been of the blackvariety and luckily not too threaten-ing. However, even these mildercousins of the grizzly or polar bearcan prove problematic, if not down-right dangerous at times, somany paddlers choose to equipthemselves with deterrents.Some bring flare guns or signalhorns. Others bring bearbangers. There is even a laser-sighted slingshot that has beendesigned to chase away a nosywoodland neighbour.
But the one weapon thatmany arm themselves with isbear spray. Although spray mayvery well be a last best defensebetween you and a bear, I hopethe following tale will serve as awarning to be careful where youuse it.
On this summer’s trip on theClearwater River in northernSaskatchewan, we knew wewould probably have some bearencounters, so one of our trip’smembers, Dave Robinson, of-fered to bring along some bearbangers and a couple of cans ofbear spray.
During the trip, we had seen a cou-ple of bears while we were passingthrough, but then one evening, afterwe had stopped for the day, we had amagnificent sighting of a bear stand-ing on his or her two back legs, giv-ing us a good once over as well.Although this fellow was on the otherside of the river from our campsite,we were all too aware that bears aregreat swimmers, so a few of thegroup became a bit spooked by this
evening visitor.Since Dave had come prepared, he
shared one of his cans of spray withthe other couple who took it into theirtent for night-time protection. Myhusband, Bruce, and I were not asworried, but we were tired, so after
the excitement was over, we soon saidgood night and prepared for bed.
However, I had barely got into thetent when I felt the strangest sensa-tion in my throat. I do have allergiesto cats, and the constriction I wasfeeling reminded me of the reaction Isometimes have to the furry feline,but it was much more intense. Iquickly felt a panic coming over me,my throat and eyes were burning,and I started to cough uncontrollably.Within seconds, Bruce was also
NASTAWGAN SPRING 2012 19
Five hundred paddlers and other loversof the outdoors were treated to the 18presentations made at the incrediblypopular Wilderness Canoe Symposium.The event was organized by GeorgeLuste and sponsored by the WildernessCanoe Association, and was held inToronto on February 17 and 18, 2012.The following presentations weremade:
Cory Trepanier Caledon - An Artist& Filmaker in the High Arctic
Bill Buxton - Chasing Roots:Northern Sask by Birch Bark Canoe
Noak Inukpuk - Umiujaq, OurPeople & Richmond Gulf
Eric Leclair - Puvirnituq River: AnAncient Travel Way
Lester Kovac & Lynette Chubb -Paddling Nunavik
Dave Brown - Canoe Travels:Eastern Hudson Bay Coast
Chris Mayne & Paul Chivers -Northern Shores: The Photography ofCanoeing & Northeastern Ontario
Virginia Howick & Juliet Dana -Coming of Age in the Barrenlands
Sara Seager - Remembering MyCanoeing with Mike Wevrick
Kenn Harper - An Introduction toInuktitut
Kaitlin Breton - Beluga Whales inNunavik
Phil Haigh & Matthew Busenhart -The Keewaydin Way: Canoe Trip toRichmond Gulf
Don McMurtry - Following DavidThompson
Alexandre Bevington - Trans CanEUAda - Across Canada , Four Canoes
Ron Beal - Flora & FaunaAdaptations Along the Horton River
Dorrie Brown - The Mosaic That IsLabrador
Francis Penashue - Stories fromLiving on the Land
Elizabeth Penashue - Mista Shipu:Spirits of the River & the Animals
27th Annual Wilderness &Canoeing Symposium
20 NASTAWGAN SPRING 2012
Arrival at Lac Bonaventure
As a high school teacher, I was neveravailable to paddle rivers in June, sothe Bonaventure River was not part ofthe list of rivers we thought of pad-dling. Retirement is a special time oflife when weekends disappear and“holiday” is a word that is hardly everspoken (it seems to have lost most ofits meaning for us somehow). And so,with our new-found “free time” weplanned our June 2011 trip on theBonny. Rick Sabourin and Diane Lucasjoined us, Barb and Dave Young, asthey were able to arrange “holidays.”
This wonderful river trip is bestdone in early June, just after the snowpack melts in the Chic ChocMountains. The river’s source is inthese mountains, not far from the townof Murdockville in Quebec’s GaspéPeninsula. It flows south for 127 kilo-metres to the Bay of Chaleur and theAtlantic Ocean. The town ofBonaventure is at its mouth.
Several WCA members had alreadypaddled this river, so we were able toget information from Anne Bradleyand others. There are also threads onthe CCR Forum and two other trip re-ports in the Nastawgan archives thathelped us plan our trip. To reach thesource (Lac Bonaventure), you must beshuttled on logging roads. We usedSteve Bujold, a local f ishing guide,hunter, trapper, and canoeist to shuttleus to the lake. He also provided uswith a place to stay at a cabin/chalet onthe Petit Cascapedia River near NewRichmond. If you are planning a tripon the Bonny, I would highly recom-mend Steve. His service was excellent,his prices were good, and we enjoyedhis company.
The night before we shuttled in, weLining through the “Embacles”
The Bonaventure RiverA Whitewater Playground in the Gaspé Peninsula
Story by Dave YoungPhotographs by Barb Young and Dave Conolly (Maine)
NASTAWGAN SPRING 2012 21
Polers from Maine
arrived at the cabin. The PetitCascapedia was really moving as ithurtled towards the sea. We started torealize then, just how fast the Bonnywould be. On June 6, Steve picked usup at the cabin at 8:00 a.m. and we ar-rived at the put-in about three hourslater after traversing a maze of loggingroads.
Steve knew exactly where he wasgoing and when and where to take ashort break. As part of his service hewould move our vehicle from the cabindown to the harbour in the town ofBonaventure later in the week. By thetime we reached Lac Bonaventure, itwas sunny and calm. It didn’t take uslong to have a bite of lunch, pack up,and begin our journey.
It started as a calm, peaceful paddlewith beautiful scenery and NO BUGS!The lake is not large and soon we wereat the outlet where a 1.5-km-longcreek/river begins which connects toPetit Lac Bonaventure. We were not ex-pecting what followed. The descrip-tions mentioned riffles and R1s, how-ever this was anything but tame. Thecurrent was fast and strong and the R1swere now R2s. Thrown in to makethings more interesting were manyoverhanging branches, sweepers, anddebris. It was a long set with no breakin fast, cold water. More than once, thebackend of the canoe got pushed intobranches, but fortunately both canoesreached Petit Lac Bonaventure withoutserious damage. Also, with canoeistsintact, I might add. As we came intothe calmer water, there was a sense ofrelief.
Then and there, we decided to get alittle more organized for whitewater.We headed for shore where we donneddry suits and wet suits (one or the other— not both), lashed-in packs, andmade sure lining ropes and throw bagswere readily available. We also man-aged to leave (lose) a Tilly hat and apair of prescription sun glasses. Agehas its benefits/detriments (retirement
good, memory bad!).Petit Lac Bonaventure is barely a
lake and in no time we were into theriver proper and following the fast cur-rent around bends and over rapids. Weknew we were headed for the“Embacles” or logjams and were cau-tious because of this. This area of theriver is a twisted carnage of logs,branches, vines, and islands. Once wewere in the mess, it was impossible tofollow maps or descriptions of routes.We just chose paths based on least re-sistance and hoped we would make itthrough to the other side. After abouttwo hours of small portages, lift-overs,lining, wading or tracking, and a tiny
bit of paddling, we emerged on theother side of the “Embacles.” Duringthis time, we encountered recently cutlogs in some of the areas, which helpedour progress somewhat. We wonderedhow this had happened.
It wasn’t long before we found outthe answer. It was getting later in theday and we had begun to look for acampsite when we happened upon acollection of 13 canoes. Camped on theside of the river was a vast array ofsmall tents and 13 people. We stoppedto chat. They were mostly from Maineand they were poling down the river infull-length canoes. With only one per-son in each canoe, they had extra space
22 NASTAWGAN SPRING 2012
Rick and Diane concentrating
They had some concerns about thecamping for the next night, since itwould be in the canyon section andthere was limited camping available.
After a short discussion we agreedon a plan for all of us to camp in thesame general area. We packed up andleft about an hour after they had leftour campsite. The next few hours weresome of the most enjoyable paddlingwe have ever experienced. It was fast-paced with almost continuous rapids.There were few eddies, and rests had tobe taken along the shore. The tech-nique for stopping was an eddy turnfollowed by a bush grab. We were re-minded of our early spring trip on theOpeongo River in Algonquin.
By lunchtime we had caught up tothe Maine group, who had stopped fortheir lunch. We decided to stop at thesame gravel bar for our lunch as theydeparted, having finished theirs.
We had been travelling through alarge burn area during much of the day,but as we approached the canyon, thescenery changed since the canyon hadbeen spared from the fire.
We were now looking at fully treedhills on either side of the river. Therapids became a little more seriouswith some approaching R3 status. Aswe rounded a corner over a more seri-ous drop, we caught up to the polersagain. One of them had dumped in therapid. We were now approaching someledges in the canyon and it was nice tohave a guide to let us know what wewere approaching and how to run it.We followed the Maine group, drop-ping over a couple of ledges and eddy-ing out above another. As we did so,Mike from the Maine group wasscrambling along the bank to let usknow our campsite was directly aboveus on the shore. With some luck wehad eddied exactly where we should tocamp there!
The next few hours were spent set-ting up camp and getting to know ourneighbours. We had drinks and snacksand scouted the next rapid from a trailBarb and Dave approaching the canyon
for things like a chainsaw, foldingchairs, and a full-sized barbeque. As itturned out, they had been coming tothis river for up to 15 years and knewit very well. Using their chainsaw, theyhad helped to make the way throughthe “Embacles” easier (although westill found it trying). What had taken ustwo hours had taken them much longer,
so they were impressed that we hadmade it so far in half a day. They couldtell us where we were on the river andwhere the next camping spot was. Weheaded downriver and 20 minutes laterwe found a place to camp for the night.
We arose the next morning and hada leisurely breakfast. Part-way throughour meal, the Maine group showed up.
NASTAWGAN SPRING 2012 23
Luxury camping of the Maine group at the canyon campsite
Diane scouts R3/R4 rapid below the campsite
along the shore. After some discussionit was agreed that all would line thenext rapid. At this water level, therewas no discernable safe path throughit. Immediately downriver from itwould come The Three Steps, whichthe Maine group said they usually ranon the right and then the middle. Thenext morning we all pitched in with thelining of 15 canoes. There was lots ofco-operation with each other, but wedid get made fun of. We were deckedout in our dry suits and wet suits andwearing our helmets as we prepared forrunning down the rapids.
They were mostly dressed like mod-els from an L.L.Bean commercial withlong-sleeved shirts, long pants, base-ball caps, and boots. At one point oneof them asked the others if they shouldput on their “helmets.” They they alltook their ball caps and turned themsideways. It was all in good fun, but wegot their point.
The leaders of their group headeddownstream to scout The Three Steps.We were impressed with their ability tocontrol the canoes with poles and bal-ance. They planned a route, set upsafety and photo opportunities, andthen began a kind of assembly line de-scent of the rapid. Two men stood inthe water at the top of the most serious
drop and eased canoes down the “step”on the left side of the river. One canoeafter another descended with no prob-lems. Our big tandems just followed atthe end of the procession. I think ourcanoes were a little harder to catch andslow down, but soon we were at thebottom of the most serious of the dropson the river. The two very experiencedmen at the top of the rapid then soloeddown making it all look very easy.
We had mixed feelings about thisexperience. It was nice to be through asection of the river that we had ap-proached with some trepidation, but wefelt a little sense of disappointment thatwe had not planned our own descentthrough the rapid. The canyon contin-ued for a while longer, but the rapidsbecame less intense. We stayed withthe Maine group for a little while justto watch them make their way down-river. One of their group was a manthey referred to as “Gramps.” He hadbegun poling when he was 60 years ofage. He was now 76 and standing in acanoe in perfect balance, polingthrough rapids. All we could do waswatch and admire him and think of thepossibilities that our own lives mighthave, as we grew older.
Our two canoes could travel muchfaster downriver then the group of 13,so we soon left the Maine group be-hind. We still had to be careful, but weknew that the major drops were behindus. As the river continued to sprint to-wards the sea, it separated around sandand gravel bars and turned sharplyfrom time to time. Sometimes it gotvery narrow and fast near the tops of
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the islands. We became more comfort-able with the pace and armed with theknowledge that the toughest rapidswere behind us, we decided to removeour helmets. Not long after that wewere again flung into bushes by thecurrent and had to duck and put up ourarms to protect our heads from gettingbashed. Barb took a couple of directhits before her partner in the rear wasable to straighten out the canoeenough…, so the helmets reappeared toprotect us from wood rather than rock.
It was getting later in the afternoonand we decided to stop on asand/gravel bar to make camp. It tooka little grooming with paddles andhands, but we soon had relatively rock-free and level spots for our two tents.We got up the tarp in the middle of theisland as a slight rain began to fall.Later that night someone caused me tospill a little wine that puddled undermy seat….dampness ensued….and re-quired some backside hanging over asmall f ire. This was a useful, if notslightly dangerous drying technique. Itwas Rick’s birthday, but alas it was cel-ebrated without a cake.
That evening it rained a bit. Weawoke to an overcast sky with heavy
mist over the water. Visibility waspoor to none! We took our time hav-ing breakfast, but the mist refused tolift. We knew that there were nomajor obstacles to encounter, but withthe fast current and twisty turns, wewere reluctant to take to the water.Finally, at 11 a.m. we decided to giveit a go. We deemed that Rick had thebest eyesight and he and Di led the
way as we slowly drifted and back-paddled down the river. It was veryeerie to paddle this fast-moving, gur-gling river with only 10 to 15 m ofvisibility. You got the impression youwere heading downhill and into dan-ger, even though we knew the riverwas relatively benign at this point.After half an hour of tense, slow pad-dling we decided to take a break andwait some more for the mist to rise. Itwould show signs of lifting, even tothe point of showing a little sunshine,only to fog-up completely once again.We waited, we ate, we waited somemore, and f inally got back into thecanoes and headed out. We had a littlewobble in a boil, Rick and Digrounded out in a swift, but otherwisewe had no problems. By 1:30 p.m.,the mist had lifted and sunshine pre-vailed…yahoo!
The river had straightened outsomewhat and the current was stillstrong. Before we knew it, we were atkm 48 where a nice flat campsiteawaited about two metres above theriver level on river right. We soon hadcamp set up with a clothesline to dryour damp stuff from the night before
More scouting; same rapid looking upstream
Every corner has its own lumber pile
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and our towels from ourswim/cleanup. This was the onlycamping where we experienced a fewbugs…nothing serious…but enough todrive us under the dining tarp forsnacks, reading, or supper.
The next day was clear and cool,but the sun warmed us quickly. By 10a.m. we were on the water. The rivernow was wider and straighter. It wasstill moving quickly and there was awind at our backs. We were enjoyingthe serenity and relaxed atmosphereand the sunshine as we floated andpaddled down the river, when all wasrudely interrupted. Three CF18fighter jets came swooping down onus doing some low-level “top gun”type of flying, following the twistsand turns of the river valley. Thespeed was amazing, but the soundwas overwhelming. Within secondsthey were gone. All that was left weretwo canoes and four knee-knockingcanoeists.
By noon, we had covered an easy20 km and had reached a footbridge,which spans the river. It is used toconnect to snowmobile and hikingtrails from the other side. There weregood camping opportunities here, butthe day was so nice and the paddlingso easy that we decided to continueour paddle/float downstream. Wewere not sure which day Steve wasgoing to take our car to the takeout,but we were hoping it was there, sincewe knew we could easily f inish thetrip today. We tried to get through toSteve by satellite phone, but had noluck. At the CIME (a company thatprovides guided trips and shuttles onthe Bonaventure) site, we tried to geta beer and snack, but they were notyet ready for restaurant business. Wewere able to call Steve and leave amessage about the car. After restingfor a while, we continued to paddlethe remaining eight km to theBonaventure town wharf. We were re-lieved to see that our car had been de-livered and in no time we were
packed up and off to the Grand Préhotel for some clean-up followed by avery good meal in the localRendezvous Restaurant. It had been agreat f ive days of paddling. We spentthe next four or f ive days touringaround the Gaspé coast, includingPercé Rock, Forillon National Park,Gaspésie National Park, and thenback home.
If you are lucky enough to be ableto paddle in early June and want toexperience a truly beautiful, cleanriver, then the Bonaventure is for you.It is very accessible and affordableand almost without carries…a pad-dler’s dream.
Backside-hanging
Rick and Diane in the morning mist
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It was when I saw Justine Curgenvens’movie “This is canoeing” in the fall of2009 that I first became aware of the smalland wearable POV (point-of-view) cam-eras. Three years later, they’re less than$300 and thus have become affordable tomost of us. Presentations at the 2012Wilderness Canoe Symposium confirmedit – POV cameras have gone mainstreamand are here to stay. In fact, they’ll besmaller, better, and more affordable as timemarches on.
GoPro Hero is a really small camera –it fits comfortably in the palm of my hand.The “Outdoor” version comes with a myr-iad of various gadgetry meant to assist youin strapping the camera to your body, head,helmet, kayak, canoe, car, paddleboard, etc.It comes with the waterproof housing thatis certified to a depth of 60 metres. Thecamera has neither viewfinder nor LCD
display screen. This may seem awkward atfirst, but you’ll quickly get used to it. Thelens has a very wide angle (Hero 2 offers127° or 170° wide angles). Plus, no displayscreen means longer battery life. Your big-ger challenge is to learn to move your headaround slowly, rather than in jerky motions.The jarring motion of your head will resultin fuzzy and/or dizzy video footage, oftenunusable.
Mounting the camera on the bow plateoffers a fantastic point of view, both look-ing ahead or behind, facing the bow pad-dler. For best results, you should make asmall monopod to raise the camera highenough (12-14 inches) but not too high (itwill interfere with the bow paddlers’ cross-bow draw and sway too much for comfort-able viewing). If you want to get fancy, themonopod can be made from two piecesthat screw into each other to obtain a higher
viewpoint. This setup is effective on flat-water in calm conditions.
At the stern plate, I simply affixed oneof the flat mounts that came with the origi-nal package. The male part is such that youcan mount the camera facing backwards(most frequent setup), or forward (lookinginto the PFD of the stern paddler). Thebackward-facing position is particularly ef-fective when you’re the lead boat in thegroup.
Pakboat owners should consider fixingthe hand-made monopod behind the bowpaddlers’ seat. The preferred setup is suchthat the bottom end of the monopod restsin the small cup that is fixed to the middlepole, and it’s also attached to the back endof the bow seat. This setup provides twoconnecting points and the monopod mustbe long enough to clear the bow paddlers’helmet/hat. If you want to extend it further,consider securing the top end of the mono-pod with two guy wires to the top sidepoles.
Elevated camera positions will give youan amazing perspective. For really spectac-ular results, I use a telescopic monopod andattach the camera to the narrower end. Startrecording and hold the pole in one hand,straight up, while you paddle with yourother hand. You’ll love the end result.Strong arms help!
There’s no end to improvisation andtherein lies the biggest catch of all.Shooting video with GoPro is easy enoughand you’ll find many opportunities to useit. Eventually, you’ll develop your ownstyle and preferences. But, it’s what hap-pens after, that separates us amateurs fromthe real pros. While video-editing tools arebecoming more and more user friendly, se-rious video editing is often a daunting andvery time-consuming process for the unini-tiated. You’ll quickly find that your datastorage space is pathetically inadequate andnew external hard disks will start to mush-room at the periphery of your desk.Consider investing right away in the homenetwork storage solution that is offered bystackable, mirrored hard drives.
The extended version of this reviewwith more photographs and videos can befound online at MyCCR PhotographyForum.
A GoPro Hero video camera for paddlersAleks Gusev
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Okay, there weren’t any canoes; I justwanted to pique your interest. This wasone weekend where we would have haddifficulty utilizing our usual mode oftransport. We did, however, have lots ofcaves and cliffs to explore and clamberover.
Saturday, November 5, saw 16 of us(and one dog) hike a combination of theKolapore Uplands trails and the BruceTrail on a glorious day. That evening thefarmhouse kitchen table at HighlandsNordic in Duntroon groaned under heapsof food and good cheer. Many of the hik-ers groaned as well as we squeezedaround the table to devour the feast.
On Sunday, a smaller group found theBest Caves and the Keyhole on a BruceTrail hike in the Singhampton area. Thusended the third annual hiking weekendwhere, I believe, we had the best weatheryet and the biggest turnout.
Submitted by Barb Young on behalf of theorganizers (Barb & Dave Young, DianeLucas, Rick Sabourin, Beth & BruceBellaire)
P.S. January 14 was our third annualcross-country ski day. The organizers en-joyed powder snow at Duntroon and anexcellent meal that evening. Where werethe rest of you couch potatoes?
