Blogging certainly hasn’t been on my list of priorities lately! I went home in July after never really telling the whole story of what’s gone on. But life moves fast it seems. I returned home on July 18th without ever really updating my adventures here. I suppose I will tell the stories in a Star Wars movie episode fashion. Forward, backwards, and all over the place. What may truly matter in the end is telling the stories at all. My photo gallery serves as proof of days lived and memories made. Time and task. I am thankful for that! For writing often must take the backseat as I push forward. Never what I intend but a constant. This has been a rather full summer. Many miles traveled. Here and back home. And those that connected the dots of a roving me. So we must fast forward to the present. No longer July but well into August. So very much has transpired and the world moved on whether I told my stories or not. I am small and humbled in that realization.

Let’s fast forward past my time back home in July into August. I returned here to Camp Sparrow Song August 12th. I had been home about 3 weeks. Upon returning I set out to fish the big lake here again but it was rather tough for me. Wind and waves were a problem. I decided to fish a set of rapids below a dam close to here last week on Thursday. I was tired of my struggles on the big lake and needed a break. I had good luck and my confidence was renewed. So much that I decided to pack up my canoe and camping gear for a couple days away. There was a big music festival in town close by and I really didn’t want to be part of it. So off to the ZEC Restigo Gracie and I went Friday afternoon. I chose a remote lake that we had paddled back in July. Lac Goeland. The two days I spent there are worthy of their own story. Camping out of the truck in a tent and fishing were the main activities. Solitude on my first ever camping trip in the bush in a tent.

Since my return I have fished with a couple neighbors and have enjoyed some success. Yes you guessed it! Another story! Today I decided a hike was in order for a change. I have been curious about a set of rapids in the Kipawa River near Brennan Lake. Brennan Lake is a rather large lake within the ZEC Restigo boundaries. I had paddled Brennan Lake back in July but didn’t get to explore the river. I have wanted to see the rapids as they are listed as a point of interest on the ZEC Restigo map. A roughly 5Km trail leads to you to the falls according to the map. Sounds easy right? Sure it’s 6 miles round trip but that’s doable. The weather was good for hiking. Mid 70’s and somewhat cloudy. Plus the bugs haven’t been bad lately. So it was on once I secured my ZEC permit at the office where Highway 819 begins just outside of town here.

There wasn’t a wealth of information on the trailhead but I found something after Goggling it. And after my time here I was tuned in to the landmarks they mentioned. So up the 819 I went around 11am. It took me awhile to get to where the trailhead was supposed to be. It appeared to be off an old logging road that I found without too much trouble. The logging road was dry and pretty brush free. Not something that I encounter here when I explore. But after heading down the logging road I found no trailhead. I studied my map and phone app. My GAIA app is indispensable in the back bush. It shows my GPS location at all times. No cellular phone service needed. But where was the trailhead? No markers. No signs. Nothing.

There was however, an old beat up travel trailer sitting in a small clearing with a possible trail behind it. I guessed it a simple hunting trail when I first scouted it. It was rather overgrown and couldn’t possibly be the trail that was marked on the ZEC map. I drove back and forth searching for the trail with no luck. I finally decided to follow the trail behind the beat up travel trailer sitting in the clearing. I guessed that I was on a wild goose chase just following some moose hunters trail. But I was out of options and I had pounded dusty, rough roads to get to my destination. I wasn’t ready to quit that easy.

Once I started down the trail behind the old camper I decided that I was in the right place after all . I was obviously following an old logging road. It was molded and leveled. No question about it then but it was pretty overgrown. However, someone had taken time to cut some of the hanging brush back with a chainsaw. I was carrying an axe and began laying tree blazes behind me. Something I had read about years ago from back bush trappers. I also found pieces of survey ribbon laying around. I stuck some in my pocket and marked the trail occasionally. Getting lost here would be very bad!

The trail was pretty rough walking but ok. There were plenty of overhanging tag alders choking the trail. I broke off smaller ones leaving an obvious trail behind me. I also turned around and studied the terrain behind me. Always a good idea. I kept hanging survey ribbon pieces in strategic locations. I wanted a clear path out! Some sections were nice walking. Rather open but others were tough with waist plus berry bushes choking the path. But I was ok. I got to thinking that everything was good. The old logging road was obvious. No getting lost while following its signature through the bush. The bush is very alive and thriving. Noteworthy.

I reached a beaver meadow. Once the site of a huge pond it appeared. The berry bushes and jewel weeds were unbelievably high. And the bugs found me then. Deer flies and mosquitoes liking my sweat and heavy breathing as I soldiered through. I began to question the adventure then. This was ok but 3 miles of it? I was expending lots of energy. Gracie too. I lost her for a moment suddenly. She wasn’t behind me and couldn’t hear her. I yelled and became very worried when there was no sound. Losing her here would be very bad. But suddenly I heard her rustling through the dense berry bushes. This was becoming a bit hellish. My shirt was soaked with sweat and my legs were getting scratched bad. Shorts had seemed like a good choice. Not so much now I mused.

And then the unexpected happened. While wading through waist high berry bushes the ground below my feet disappeared and I tumbled forward. The old logging road had washed out and there was a huge gulley. I survived my tumble intact but suddenly realized that this was a less to be desired trail. No one had been through it in sometime. I guess it’s not a popular destination reaching the falls.

After my fall I found my way out to the open space of the former beaver pond. Vegetation was lighter there so it was easier walking until I hit a muddy section. Gracie took a dip in a weedy pool. She was struggling and I could tell. Old age has its disadvantages I suppose. There were moose tracks in the mud and I had seen moose droppings along the trail. They were smart. Taking the path of least resistance. They don’t worry about getting lost I suppose.

After the beaver damaged section the trail played out. The chainsaw and axe wielding trail stewards had given up it appeared. The trail just stopped. Yes the old logging continued but it was so overwhelmingly overgrown that it was pure folly to keep following it. I was hot and scratched up from the berry bushes. It was a defining moment. Persist and push forward? Reality ruled the day. Based on my GPS app, I had only covered about one mile of a three mile hike. To continue would be ill advised. Common sense kicked in despite my disappointment of failing my objective. It wasn’t easy to do in some ways. But there was a sense of relief in the concession. This was no place to mess around.

I was disappointed to not make it to the Turner Falls. But the maps had indicated a trail. I had counted on a herd path. Who knew? And I certainly gained more respect for the bush. It is hellbent to return to its natural state. And I respect the power that lives there. I’m weak in the face of that power. Frail and vulnerable. And there’s a lesson there that I thought I had learned. But the lands of the valley where I have spent most of my life are very different. The Quebec bush is a much different place. So tonight I count my good fortune and wear my scratches with a certain sense of pride. I earned them today. They will heal and my internal turmoil heals in the doing of such adventures. I wouldn’t have it any other way I suppose. And BTW. Maybe reaching the Turner Chute, aka the Turner Falls by water might not be such a bad idea. I am a stubborn one at times. And I had reasons for torturing myself today. That’s all on me. It’s what I wanted. And I got what I wanted. The universe spins in mysterious ways.✍️