Day 4: Thursday, June 10th.

  (You need to Login or Register   (You need to Login or Register
Map:  Day 4 (   (You need to Login or Register to open this image in an independent window)

This morning I awake around 6:15.  I’m instantly aware, as I crawl out of my sleeping bag that the temperature is a bit crisp compared to the other mornings of the trip thus far.  A quick check of the thermometer indicates the temperature inside the tent is 49 degrees.  I completely pack-up the gear within the interior of my tent before exiting, which is my typical procedure.  

My early morning was filled with the standard break-camp rituals.  First order of business was a quick preparation and consumption of breakfast, followed quickly by the take-down of my rain fly and tent.  Of course, my large mug of coffee is my constant companion during this activity.  There is no real need to hurry this morning because my ultimate destination is Hansen Lake, and only Glenn Lake separates me from Hansen.

By 8:30, I’ve moved all my gear down to the water’s edge in preparation for departure.  The gear is quickly loaded and I return to the campsite for a quick check to make sure all of my possessions have been collected.  Before departure, I check the thermometer again and it shows little improvement -- 53 degrees with overcast skies and light winds.  I step into my canoe and push off.  The lake is relatively calm and the paddling is little effort.  I look forward to finally encountering some new water on this trip so as I continue northward, the first of my portages beckons.

I’ve soon reached the first portage, which can’t be much more than 10 rods.  I unload and start hauling my first load across.  As I approach the next landing, I observe a canoe with two occupants approaching.  They see me, but they seem more intent on working up to the outflow and fishing.  So I dump my load and beat a hasty retreat to collect the balance of my gear.  On my return, the tandem canoe has now been joined by a 3-person canoe … another 5-some.  Well, now I’ve CLEARLY surpassed the number of other paddlers I encountered on last year’s trip!

As I load my canoe, the tandem canoe begins their approach to the portage.  I pull alongside and try to engage the occupants in conversation … I’m interested in what they have encountered on their approach to this point, especially what they found getting here from Hansen, if that is indeed the way they came.  The group was on the back end of a 2-week trip that started with a fly-in to Carroll Lake (a fair distance north and west of here, near the western edge of WCPP).  They related that they had come through from Wrist Lake (one of my stops on last year’s trip).  When I asked about their route from Hansen to this portage, the bowman (the only one really conversant) indicated that they hadn’t come through Hansen.  I was a bit puzzled by this response since the only way (on the map) to get from Wrist to this point was to go north from Wrist to Hansen and then back through Glenn.  Clearly they had not reached this point via Streak,   Amber, and Nutria (which was the route I took last year).  So, I wished them well, gave a quick wave to the 3-some that were in trail and proceeded on to my next portage.  

I was quick over the next portage with relative ease.  It also was not excessively long … something on the order of 20-25 rods.  This put me on a no-name lake where I casually paddled a lazy-S path to the next portage.  It was equally short and uneventful.  Now I’m on Glenn.  This is my first visit to Glenn, but I’ll be returning here later in my trip, so I don’t dawdle.  I make a direct course northwest across the lake to where my next portage begins.  Although skies are still overcast, the cool of the morning remains which I find very agreeable while portaging and paddling.  

Only two average length portages and a chute remain between me and Hansen--my destination lake for the day.  It is approaching 10:00 as I near the first portage, but my attention is momentarily drawn to a float plane low overhead.  Maybe it is heading to Hansen.  Soon the drone of the plane’s engine fades away and the calm of the natural environment returns.   The first portage is maybe 40 rods and not particularly complicated.  Once finished, I am now back in more confined waters until I reach Hansen.  However, I am aware that at the end of this portage is a significant flow of water exiting from a waterfall.  Yet, the current is easily manageable as I paddle an upside-down “U” path to reach the next portage.  This one is a bit longer than the previous portage, perhaps 50 rods—the longest of the day!  It is a bit damp as it periodically approaches the edge of the stream.  Its length is necessary to span two waterfalls before the next put-in.  The exit places me several yards from the outflow of the second waterfall, so the launch is quite easy.  Now, the only thing I have to navigate is a chute and I’ll be on Hansen.  That should be a snap!

WRONG!  As I said before, there was a relatively significant flow after the first portage and the channel leading to the chute was no wider.   I couldn’t actually see the chute from the portage put-in because I’ll have to make a right-hand turn to get into that section of the channel.  I proceed with caution.  At the right edge of the stream, I notice a rock outcropping.  I ponder whether I should step out and do a little recon before proceeding into the chute.  After brief reflection, I decided that I’ve managed chutes before.  This shouldn’t be much of a problem.  The channel appears wide and flat.  Yes, there is a little current, but I can easily maintain my direction.   After all, even the dunking I took earlier on a relatively easy set of “rapids” (more like a ripple) might have been doable if I’d just set up a little differently and THAT set of rapids had a portage around it.  

All of these things taken into consideration, the one factor I did not consider was the amount of rainfall over the past couple of days.  I guess this could have easily added to the flow rate.  In any case, once I got into the channel, everything was going exceptionally well for the first 50 yards.  But at the end of that stretch I noticed that the channel narrowed a bit and that their appeared to be a potential landing area on the right on a rock ledge, just at the choke point.  I didn’t give that too much thought until I got a little closer to the choke point.  Clearly the water is running more swiftly here, but the real problem is that the water drops perhaps a foot into a swirling pool below.  This appears custom made for another dunking, so I quickly consider my options … only one comes to mind.  Head for the rock ledge on the right and do a “lift-over” to put me beyond the “cataract.”  I hastily alter course, taking care not to get myself broad side to the current.  I get the nose of my canoe up on the ledge and I step out into perhaps 6 inches of water.  Of course the rock is slick and down I go … another set of skid marks on my knees.  However, I hardly notice.  Without my weight in the canoe, the current grabs the aft end of my canoe and begins to sweep it toward the precipice.  I grab the gunwale nearest me and lung to grab a hand hold on the rock.  It seemed like minutes (it was probably not more than a minute) passed as I battled the forces of the water to save my canoe and its contents from what lay beyond.  First, stalemate; then I begins to gain ground and finally my craft is securely anchored to the rock and lifted to “high ground.”  

Wow, that was close!  I hardly notice the twinge in right side of my lower back, but I wince slightly as I find two conveniently available pieces of beaver wood.  They serve as perfect roller bearings as I move my loaded canoe over the rock ledge (a distance of maybe 5 feet) and lower it into the water beyond the potential spill point.  I look down the balance of the chute and all appears “normal” although I am aware of a few sweepers along the right shore that I’ll have to avoid as I leave my launch point.  

I’m finally across the brink and pointed in the right direction, but before rejoining my canoe, I take a look at what I’ve just avoided.  It looks to me to be at least 3 times more likely to produce a spill that where I’d dunked earlier in the trip.  I’m thankful that I managed to avert that maneuver this time.  I mount my canoe and push off.  The current gently grabs my bow and easily turns my craft downstream.  I navigate just a bit into the current to avoid the sweepers and the balance of the chute, although still registering a more than noticeable flow, is easy to complete.  

As I exit the chute, it’s roughly 11:45 and I take a short break and have a little snack and a drink.  My reflection on what has just occurred to clear this point is interrupted by the sound of the engine of a float plane come to life apparently some short distance north of me.  I didn’t hear it approach or land, but then back in the channel the sound of rush water could have masked it.  I can’t actually see the plane, but in a few seconds, I can hear it throttle back—a clear sign that it’s airborne.  I soon round the bend and turn more northward out of the chute.  I can now clearly see a large collection of buildings in the location that I’ve marked as “Private Lodge” on my map.  I have also noted that Hansen is a fly-in lake, which is clearly confirmed by my most recent observations.  However, I’ve had my “people contact” for the day (I hope) and so I set my course northwest across the lake to an arm that points southwest, in the general direction of Wrist Lake (and yes, there is a portage at the end of this arm that eventually gets you to Wrist).  As I approach a small island almost immediately across from the lodge, I notice something bobbing in the water.  As I near, I can see that it is a plastic jug with a line attached to the handle—clearly a marker buoy of some kind.

The reason for my route is based on information received from Claire (WCPP Assistant Superintendent).  She has identified the locations of pictographs along my planned route.  One of these pictographs is located about half-way down the southwest arm on the north side of the channel.  As I approach, I notice a wall of stone vertically rising from the lake, a clear indication of a potential site for a pictograph.  As I peruse the rock face as I slowly drift by, it’s not until I’m nearly at the end of what appears to be usable rock face when I detect the signs of a human’s touch on the rock.  I collect a few photographs, but much of the detail is faded.  I can make out what appears to be 10 or so stick figures in a canoe.  There is some form of blurry shape above this image and another collection of marks a few feet to the right of the larger display.  Interesting, but the true meaning and clarity of the images may be lost to time.

  (You need to Login or Register   (You need to Login or Register
Hansen Lake pictographs.

I do a bit of further inspection, but detect no additional evidence of a pictograph.  So, I reverse my course and head out to the main body of the lake.  My target for this evening’s stop is a campsite a bit further north.  As I enter the larger body of water, I’m appreciative that the winds are still slight, but what does exist is mostly at my back.  As I paddle on, I can easily see why this lake was selected for a private lodge.  It is beautiful.  The trees are abundant and the shore line has some interesting features.  

I reach my intended campsite around 1:00.  While it is small, it has all the comforts of home.  The landing is easily manageable, there is a fire ring and some conveniently placed logs for setting.   There is ample space for my tent and the few from the “front porch” is roughly 270 degrees.  Plus, the lodge is behind me, so I cannot directly see the facility (although I later I think I hear a small motor running some distance away in the direction of the lodge).

I set about to make my home livable.  Tent is up in no time and all my gear that is to be protected from the elements stowed inside or under the vestibules.  And the good news is ITS ALL DRY!  Although I’ve not see the sun all day, I decide not to pitch my rain fly.  Even with the overcast, the temperature has risen to about 67 degrees and at least there are a few gaps of blue in the clouds, although they have to be at least 10 miles north of me.

  (You need to Login or Register   (You need to Login or Register
Home for the night

  (You need to Login or Register   (You need to Login or Register
Flat water and just a tease of sunshine

By 2:30, camp is well established and I’ve even added a little firewood to a small stack of wood thoughtfully left by a previous camper.  With nothing particularly drawing me back to the water to fish, I decide to escape to my tent for a nap.  I snooze peacefully for roughly an hour.  

At 3:30, I was out of the tent and doing a bit of exploring my home.  I was aware by now that my back feels a little stiff, but I pass it off as just part of the nature of portaging and paddling.  I set at the front of my campsite enjoying my view and reveling the fact that the wind has died out and the lake is like glass.  Yet, even in the stillness, no bugs!  

As I set, I recount the earlier events of the day with my maps in hand.  As I reflect on the chute, it occurs to me that if I had problems getting down that way that it was going to be a REAL challenge exiting that way.  Bad enough that I’d have to find a way to get back up to the flat rock again, the current was pretty stiff and I wasn’t sure that have the muscle to paddle against it.  Worse yet, I could get myself into a spot where the sweepers could cause me some grief.  So, what are my options?  If I can’t paddle against the current, then perhaps there is a trail that is not marked that would lead me beyond the problem area.  If not, there is still the prospect of bushwhacking that distance.  Overall, it was well over 100 yards, but I’d been a little busy on my entrance to pay much attention to what the bush looked like through that area.  Worst case scenario, I can exit to Wrist and work my way back to Mexican Hat using last year’s route.  Then I can proceed to Glenn from Mexican Hat.  However, this is likely to be more than a day of travel.  That choice seems a little pointless.  Even if the bush up the chute area is tough, it can’t take me a whole day (or even half a day) to do it.  In any case, I have options.

As the evening wore on, I prepared and consumed my evening meal.  While filling, warm and enjoyable, it was pretty much nondescript.  Clean-up followed, along with my first campfire of the trip.  It is usually more trouble than it’s worth to do a solo campfire (unless you need it for cooking), but it also have be property of lightening your spirits.  So, with a small campfire ablaze, I set back and enjoyed my little piece of heaven.  I was even treated to a little evening entertainment.  The neighborhood beaver paid a visit and registered his discontent with my presence.  Well, that could be an understatement.   He made it abundantly clear that I was persona non grata.  He did a tail slap to my right.  Paddled over to the left and did a repeat performance.  Swam away a short distance and did a repeat.  Returned and did a series of S-turns and a repeat.  Finally, in total exasperation, he dove under water and swam away.  While I’ve been briefly entertained by resident beaver before, this was quite a floor show.

  (You need to Login or Register   (You need to Login or Register
A little warmth and comfort

As darkness began to draw across my campsite, I decided it was time to turn in.  I did the normal check around camp to make sure canoe and other gear were properly secured.  It was near 9:30 as I entered the tent … no need to stay up and take in the stars … no stars to see with all these clouds.  It wasn’t until I started to recline that I realized I had a problem.  That small twinge in my back came storming to life.  I found that it was so painful to do a regular set-up that I completely avoided doing that.  So, to change positions, it was a matter of rolling to my side and doing an awkward push up from that position.  A couple of times over night as I changed positions, I could feel a knot of muscle sliding over the end of the ribs along the right side of my lower back.  

This was not a peaceful night, as it was necessary to throw down a few pain killers a couple of times during the stretch of hours leading to sunrise.  At one point, I was lying there contemplating how much trouble I might be in if this gets any worse.  Even then, I had questions as to the possibility of not being able to paddle or portage.  The image of me hoisting a canoe over my head at this instant was filled with a huge number of question marks.  As the mind wonders in the dark (both figuratively and literally), I even contemplated that possibility of getting a flight out of here.  After all, this is a fly-in lake and surely the people at the lodge have communication to the outside world.  It was a LONG NIGHT!!

Next:  Day 5:  My return to Glenn (and one more time into the chute)