Day 5: Friday, June 11th (Part I)

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This morning, I’m up around 6:30.  I’m still aware of by back issues as I set up and get dressed.  This takes a bit longer than normal because the process is not exactly as I’d normally employ.  But soon, I’m out to greet the day.  At this hour, the temperature is in the mid-50’s and it is overcast and breezy.

I set about doing the morning chores (breakfast, clean-up, camp brake down), and as I proceed, I take note that by back is not nearly as painful when in an upright position.  So, after my initial struggle to get dressed, much of the remainder of the morning prep goes pretty much as normal.  Yet, it is approaching 8:30 by the time I’m ready to depart.

I’ve made the decision to paddle back to the private lodge and see if I can raise anyone.  This is a good sized place and I imagine that there might even be a permanent staff member there that might know the area pretty well.  As I pass the point on the peninsula where my campsite resides, I get a better assessment of the windy conditions.  The breeze that was at my back yesterday is now in my face, and somewhat stronger.  It’s not white capping yet, but that could occur at any time.  So, I cross to the eastern shore and use as much natural cover as there is to provide a wind break.  I’m surprised as I paddle, that I take little notice of by back issues.  So, thus far, it’s looking like I’m not going to have to cut my trip short.  However, it seems prudent at this stage to take the least physically stressful exit possible and hope the back behaves.

As it approaches 9:30, I can now make out the shapes of the buildings at the private lodge.  I also note a motor boat with two occupants heading in a west-northwest direction from the lodge.  As I continue to paddle, I watch then and it appears that they stop in the location of buoy I’d see the day before.  After a momentary pause, they continued their journey toward the south end of the lake and before I reach the boat dock at the lodge, they disappear up the chute area.

After I land at the lodge, I get out and immediately hail the camp.  “Hello, anybody home!”  No response.  Yet the place is composed of a number of buildings, some cabins and what appears to be a cook-house/gathering area with a screened-in front porch.  I hail again.  No response.  Finally, I walk up the hill to the cook house, hail again; knock on the door and finding it unlocked, step inside.  No one home!  So if there are more than the two individuals in the motor boat in the area, they must have set off early on whatever fishing adventure they had planned.

As I walk back toward the boat dock, I casually scan back in the woods, but see no evidence of a trail leading in the direction of the chute.  I finally reach the dock and just about that time, the motor boat re-appears from the chute area.   They don’t’ seem to have any deliberate direction until I reach the end of the dock, where they obviously spot me and/or my red PFD.  In a couple of minutes, they are within talking distance and I make give my initial “Hello!”  As they come parallel to the dock and kill the engine, I assist in bringing the boat to a stop and we begin to talk.

We each introduce our selves.  I find out that Paul (who is driving the boat) and Gary (the passenger), are from Iowa, and are part owners of the lodge along with a group of others, several of whom (eight, I believe) had departed the previous day when they had arrived.  They were expecting the balance of their party to come in late tomorrow.  As they polished off the beers they were holding, they added to be building collection of cans in the bottom of the boat.  Perhaps this should have given me pause, but who knows.  If I had a beer, maybe I’d be chunking it down before 10:00 am!    

As I introduced myself, they wondered if I was the solo paddler they had seen cross the lake the previous day.  I acknowledged that I was and that I was wondering about the possibility of there being a trail somewhere in the woods that could get me back up the chute beyond the spot where I’d nearly lost it yesterday.  They indicated that they were not aware of any trail.  I followed with my dilemma of not likely being able to paddle against the current and they acknowledge that from the visit they had just made that my assessment was probably correct.  In fact, in other years they had managed to maneuver their motor boat over that spot and proceed up to an area adjacent to the next group of falls, where they put wheels on their boat and dragged it across to the next pool.  They were going to forego this option for this trip.  In further discussion, I questioned how canoeist managed to get up the chute under such conditions and the pair related to watching them navigate up the right (south) side of the flow using eddies and back flows to make progress and then cutting to the left (north) side to land at the rock where I’d pulled over yesterday.  From there, canoeist seemed to trek through the woods beyond the swift water to put in.  

That this explanation seemed plausible, yet I still remember the sweepers on the left (north) side just beyond the right-to-left transition point and I surely didn’t want to get tangled in that mess.   But before I could process the information any further, Paul pops up and says “How about we tow you up to the rock?   We can get up there and drop you off to make the walk in the woods.”  Wow!  What a deal!  So, I as graciously as possible, thank them for their kind offer.  Paul comes back with “that’s why it is always nice to have other people around … they can always help out when the time comes.”  Truer words were never spoken.

Paul then comments that he will need to get out of his shoes and put on some boots to do this operation with dry feet.  So, while Paul goes in search of a change in footwear, Gary and I continue to talk.  He steps out of the boat and we talk as we walk toward one of the cabins.  Seems this establishment was originally owned by members of the mob from the 1930’s.  They had the native peoples of the area construct the original lodge and run it for a while.  Then a few years passed and the mob brought in outside help to run the lodge.  This so enraged the native peoples that they burned the lodge to the ground.  As Gary was explaining, he pointed to a vintage photograph on the wall of his cabin.  It was a group picture and the original lodge was in the background.

As we continued to talk and make our way back to the dock, Paul returned in his boots.  Soon, my bow was tethered to the rear of their boat sporting a 9.9 HP motor.  Not much motor, but then it was more than adequate to move the motor boat around this lake.  During the short tow to the beginning of the chute, we continued to talk over the hum of the motor.  I asked how long they had been coming here.  The response was something like 10 years.  They asked about what I’d been doing on the lake and I related that I’d wanted to see the pictographs.  They had heard that there were pictographs on the lake but had never seen them.  

Within minutes we reach the outflow of the chute, where it is necessary to negotiate a left-hand turn.  As the motor boat reaches the flow, its progress is slowed a bit; but since I the drag coefficient is less on my canoe, I continue to slide past the rear of the tow boat.  Paul sees this happen and responds “Hold on!”  He cranks the throttle open a bit and the tow boat move forward.  However, as soon as this happens it snaps the front of my canoe to the left.  I thought, “Yeah.  Hold on is right!”  From here we proceed without difficulty along the right side of the outflow.  I’m thinking, “Well, it’s not as bad as I thought.  Maybe I could have paddled since is more like a back water section. “We soon reach the point where we have to maneuver to the left bank.  As Paul edges into the swift water, then begins to drift back.  We almost touch, before he yells “Hold on!“ again and gets back into the throttle.  By this time, I’ve drifted nearly parallel to the flow.  I remember thinking, “This could end badly.”  And almost that quick, the tension is back on the rope with a snap and my canoe rolls like a log!  

Luckily, the water is not as deep as anticipated, so I can touch bottom.  Since my canoe is still tethered to the tow boat, it’s not going anywhere.  So manhandling it to the left bank is not particularly difficult.  Soon, I’m standing in water between waist and knee deep.  I notice the only escapee this time is my kitchen pack (pots, pans, stove, etc.) .  Since I’m now in a secure location between a couple of the sweepers, I tell Paul and Gary that one of my packs broke away.  They immediately untie and head down stream to fetch it.  I’m only vaguely aware of their return because I’m bailing like crazy.  Just about the time I get my canoe near empty, I can hear some movement in the woods.  I look up and see Paul followed by Gary.  They have tied up at the rock landing and have worked their way back to my position.  Paul says to heave the packs up and one-by-one, each pack is lifted out of the canoe and finds a place on dry land.  The canoe is secured then I join my packs.  Both Paul and Gary look a little sheepish about the recent events, but my only comment was “Things will happen.” and “The water was much warmer than I expected.”

The decision is made to bushwhack from here to the point what they referred to as “the nursery.”  I later find out that the nursery is in the area where I’d previously located a rocky area just above the chute.  Paul and I both grab packs and other a couple of other hand-carry items and head out into the woods.  Gary stays with the canoe to make sure it stays put.  (Gary also has knee problems which make some walking difficult).  Paul blazes trail and I follow in his footsteps.  Going isn’t too much of  a problem until we are nearly at the nursery.  Then, it is impossible to circumnavigate the deadfall and we have to crawl over.  Sooner than expected, we are standing on the rocky outcrop.  We unload and head back.  Paul pushes through the woods more quickly than I and reaches Gary.  Before I arrive they each grab an end of my canoe and begin to negotiate the trail we had just completed.  I offered to help, but they said that they could handle my light canoe without difficulty.  So, I cut down to where they had tied up their motor boat and regained my kitchen pack.  I manage to get back to the “trail” more quickly than they move through the woods with my canoe, so I begin to lead.  However, before long I’m crossing a lot more deadfall than we’d encountered on our first pass.  So, I had to stop and back up.  By that time, Paul and Gary had closed the gap and worked their way back to a more useful passage.  A few more zigs and zags ensue, but before long we are again standing where the previous packs have been dropped.

Before they depart, they again offer their apologies for dumping me.  Again, I told them not to worry about it, it just meant that I’d not need a regular bath for a few more days.  Besides, they were a huge help in getting my gear transported to this point beyond the chute.  We shook hands and said our goodbyes and each wished the other the continuation of a good trip.  They were soon off into the woods and out of sight.  Despite the foregoing, I thought to myself, “Well, I’m HERE and much quicker than expected, despite the little mishap.”  

It’s now 10:30.  Before setting out to tackle the first of the two portages that now separated me from Glenn Lake, I decided to take a little break and grab a high-calorie snack.  The first portage I remembered being a bit longer and wetter than the second, and I wanted to insure a good energy level before taking them on.  After a brief break, I was reloaded and paddling the short distance to the longer portage.  After unloading at the portage, I decide not to push my luck any further until I could test my personal condition.  So, for this portage, I decided to triple.  As I work the first load of packs across, I continually observe whether or not my back is going to become an issue.  I’m amazed how well it is doing and only get an occasional twinge, but nothing serious.  The real test will be hoisting the canoe overhead.  That will involve more of a twisting motion.  

After many years of backpacking and putting on packs one arm at a time and having at least one strap twisted or behind me, I finally developed the technique of approaching the pack upside down, putting my arms through both straps, grabbing the back of the pack and in one motion heaving it up and over my head so the straps come neatly to rest on my shoulders.  I’ve always had enough core strength to do this with packs up to at least 65 pounds without a problem.  So, as I said, hoisting the canoe will involve a different kind of motion to get it overhead.

With the second pack load finished, it is now time for the acid test.  With a single motion, I grab, lift, hoist and rotate my canoe overhead.  Yes, there was a small twinge again, but easily in the manageable range.  So, unless my condition worsens, I should be good to go for the rest of the trip.  

At the second portage, I go back to the original strategy of double portaging.    By noon, all of my gear rests on the Glenn Lake side of the portage and now all I have is open water to negotiate for the rest of the day.  I pause, since it is lunch time and continue to snack and load up on liquid.  While the weather is still on the cool side, my body chemistry is such that I can work up a sweat by just thinking about it.  So, I will literally go through at least a half-dozen Nalgene bottles of water during the day (if not more).  

As I gaze down this larger open section of the lake, I’m conscious that the wind will not be an issue.  The wind speed has dropped off, but the clouds are looking more threatening.  I push off in search of the first set of narrows to the east that will point the way to the remainder of my journey.  It’s approaching 1:00 before I reach the narrows, and it begins to rain.  I stop paddling and put on my rain gear with the pants not quite in their proper position, but still covering most of my exposed clothing … still damp of course.  I press on and notice a perceptible current flowing toward me as I paddle the narrows.  It’s nothing spectacular but it clearly indicates that I’ll be traveling against whatever flow exist further ahead.

[continued to Part II]