As I remember it the water near the top of the falls was the only place on the lake with fish.

Today's POD caption is a bit of a misnomer.

Those 2 canoes didn't "visit" Opasquia in 2014... THEY lived there.  WE were the visitors. There were actually 3 resident canoes in Opasquia, the third being a "solo" canoe.  Unfortunately, that solo proved defective, as MagicPaddler discovered about a mile into our journey.  It had a long, significant but nearly invisible crack down its middle.  Being so close to the outfitter base, however, he was able to return it for the remaining tandem.  Thank goodness that one proved seaworthy or else I'm not sure what our recourse might have been.  Winters up in northern Ontario can be rough on ABS plastic canoes left outside for storage!

I'll tell you this, those were some danged heavy brutes of canoes!  Hmmm... seems strangely coincidental with the advent of my back & hip issues, both of which required surgery within a few short years!

Where was Portage Dog when I really needed him!

By the way, Opasquia Park received only 4 paddling visitors in all of 2014, so our party constituted 75% of the traffic that year.  We did not see a soul during the entire 14 days we spent in the park (outside of the Big Hook outfitter's base).

Jimbo   

Old Salt wrote on Feb 16^th, 2020 at 3:35pm:

This was a crack just in front of the front seat that by the time I got back to the outfitter had cracked all the way to the bottom of the canoe.  Shortly the hole front of the canoe was going to fall off

Today's POD reminds me of those meme's you see on social media where there's a series of 4 or 6 pics with the captions "What my friends think I do" with a pic of a stringer of big fish and "What society thinks we do" shows a bunch of guys getting drunk around a campfire and then finally, for the last pic - "What I really do on wilderness canoe trips" shows DD and Magic bundled up hunkered down under a tarp.  

Not articulated well but I think you know what I'm talking about. 

TomT,

I'd say we covered 2 of those 3 bases at this particular camp.  If I'm not mistaken, this is the place where we actually camped twice, once on the way out & once on the way back.  You could pick up your limit of walleyes inside of 5 minutes fishing within eyesight of the place!  We ate well here.

While I'm sure we also enjoyed some libations (certainly at times when it got cold & wet such as on this day), I'd don't recall anything excessive, particularly on the return trip.  DentonDoc was likely near the end of his Scotch and my bourbon was almost gone as it was already 2 weeks in the bush.

Seems to me that the wind blew predominantly out of the east for 11 or 12 of our 14 days.  As already observed re: an earlier POD, I was foolhardy setting up my Lean 3 to face eastward during one of those 2 other days.  Dumb, dumb, dumb! 

The wind blew with a vengeance on several occasions.  On the way out, a full and stately 3 or 4 foot diameter tree (cedar?) crowned the rise of a short portage we passed through.  We almost doubled back there to set up our shelters for the night when we had difficulty finding a clear spot further along.  Fortunately, we ended up pitching camp at a burned out, mosquito-ridden old camp which turned all of our gear "charcoal-colored."  Why fortunate? Well, upon our return, we discovered that one blast of wind had toppled that massive tree directly upon that level spot we had eyeballed for camp during our first passage.

Sometimes soggy days are the price you pay to enjoy the good stuff.  I'm fortunate in being retired in that I can spend more consecutive days in the woods - often 2 weeks at a time, now - as it nearly guarantees you AT LEAST a few days that are real gems.  Those are the days that are easy on memories and that you most often carry forward with you.  Of those, we certainly had our share and I, at least, remember them fondly.  Sometimes it takes pictures to nudge our minds back to OTHER days, days which are part of the price paid... and now, in retrospect, paid proudly.  The older you get, the more joy you can derive from those days, too.  They remind you that you were "up to the challenges" presented by the wilderness (at least THAT time).  Sometimes you win, sometimes you don't win so much or maybe even you lose... but, in the end you kept coming back.  Why?  For me, at least in part, it was because I remember how ignorant and unprepared I was thirty years ago.  When I look at pictures like today's POD, it reminds me about how every year's mistakes and experiences have built my confidence and preparedness and, ultimately, my enjoyment of being outdoors in whatever the wilderness throws at me. 

My main regrets?  That I didn't start twenty years earlier.  I could have used a few more soggy days - like today's POD - to wisen me up a little sooner.  Maybe there's still time....

Later,

Jimbo