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The Icewalker’s Resolve

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It’s very close to the end of February now and winter is finally showing signs of releasing some of its icy embrace. But not quite yet. The amount of snow we have reminds me of this time last year when I was wading through deep snow building tubing tap runs for sap. Sugaring is coming fast now and I have done a little prep work getting ready but nothing as serious as this time in 2025. There’s been some other activities to keep me occupied.

Last week I helped cut and get logs skidded out for my friend Mike. AKA: Mike The Mechanic. He’s agreed to attempt to repair an issue that I have with the tractor. I decided that helping get his logs out from the small logging over in a section of my uncles woods was a nice way to help him out. Not to mention being fun for me. His crew had downed a bunch of white pine and started trimming them to be skidded out. So I spend 3 days limbing trees, cutting a few, and hitching the winch cable from the tractor to the logs to get them out. It was tough work but something I truly enjoyed. A throwback to the days when I used to log with my dad years ago. Each day, I left the woods tired but with a sense of accomplishment. I also felt a twinge of remorse for the fallen giants of the forest and the damage to the understory below. The collateral damage I call it. But the grove of pine trees were beginning to die off some. Several showed evidence of the fungal infection called “red rot”. And others were being attacked by woodpeckers hunting for insects. All signs that a harvest would be beneficial and would be the best management strategy for the forest in the long run. We did quite of work in those 3 days and I enjoyed the time working with my uncles outside.

Uncle Art skidding a long white pine log.

Before the logging work, I went snowshoeing with friend Scott “Polar” Force on the state land of Lonesome Bay state forest near his place by Black Lake. It was quite the adventure! The afternoon started sunny and warm for us as we followed a broke in snowmobile trail towards our destination. I was soon down to my tee shirt!

Our destination was a high, island like, projection that rises from the swamps of the Black Creek swamp system. Zane and I discovered it years ago while hunting geocaches. There’s a swamp to cross before you reach a remarkable cantilevered ledge that hangs out into space above the soft maple swamp below. I had bragged to Scott about wanting to show it to him. Time was limited so February was the only chance we would get to trek there. I knew that the deep snow was going to be a problem but figured with two of us taking turns breaking trail after leaving the snowmobile trail, that it was doable. Well let’s just say that we got our adventure alright! We even got a bit of swamp ice walking in on the way to the ledge. I got us a little off track getting there. I hadn’t been there since 2018. We ended up putting on some extra distance under rather challenging snowshoeing conditions. Oops!

On our way to the ledge.

We finally reached the ledge in late afternoon. The sun had gone under and we were quickly running out of energy. I was afraid that I would not find the ledge but eventually we did. Getting out onto it was problematic as there’s a crevice that separates it from the main ridge. A little spooky actually! But out on the ledge from the high vantage point, it was totally worth the energy it had taken to get there! But we still had some distance to cover to return to the truck. Backtracking was not a good option as it would take us way out of our way. So it was a bush wack out breaking trail experience. One that beat both of us up severely. It was full on “zombie mode” getting back to the truck. But we had made the trip successfully! We celebrated with hot venison tenderloin sandwiches for dinner! Yum!

Out on the cantilevered ledge.

Last Saturday we decided to trek to the Ice Falls finally. Late February is usually a good time because if you wait too long the ice may not be there long in March. It’s a gamble and sugaring leaves little time for a trek. After my recent trip down on the ice of the big creek, I knew that Saturday’s trip would be challenging but was totally possible. But conditions had changed since I had been there. We would later find that out! Our group consisted of myself, Zane, Scott Polar Force, and Patrick Bourcy. Gracie also. She had managed the previous trek so I wasn’t worried about her.

We set out just after 11am under cloudy, cool skies with a brisk north breeze hitting us in the face as we hitched up our snowshoes. The trail from my previous trip was ok at first but soon became very slushy. Not good at all! Breaking a new trail wasn’t much easier but we kept up a slow and steady pace headed downstream, dodging wet spots and even some shallow, open water. We skirted an open breach in a beaver dam where the beaver had been out feeding on fresh brush. So far, no one had broken through. It was tough going in the slushy conditions but we were determined to make it to the Ice Falls. Despite the tough snowshoeing, I was happy to be exploring the gorge once again!

Beaver business around a dam.

We eventually reached the first set of Ice Falls and they were totally worth the trip! We climbed up behind them like energetic children, laughing and taking lots of photos. The second set was equally amazing and we climbed up to them as well. Everyone was having a great time! I fell coming down from the second Ice Falls and face planted in the deep snow! Everyone got a good laugh over that especially Patrick! But I got the last laugh when he broke through a thin spot and soaked his leg filling his boot with water. He tried a shortcut it seems. Not so good actually! It happens!

The crew on set one.

We trekked down to Ice Falls Set 3 and they were impressive but we decided not to climb up to them. We still needed to trek our way back out. A journey of close to 2 miles although I always thought it was shorter. Everyone had a red face from the wind burn and people were beginning to tire some. Zane was cold and ran out head of us although I thought we should stick together. And the slush began to take its toll on our tiring legs. I started calling it Hell Slush after that. We sure were glad to reach the hard surface of the road! Zane actually soaked one of his legs on the way out it seems. I noticed where he broke through in a shallow spot.

Behind the ice.
Set two.

Back at the cozy cabin, everyone hunkered down close to the wood stove while I fried up some walleye outside. Beans,potatoes, and pumpkin pie for dessert rounded out the bush fare meal. We were sharing stories about the adventure and life in general. We had made a successful ice walking adventure come true under rather tough conditions. But we quickly forget about the hardships when we look back later at our photos and reflect on the moments.

We certainly know to respect the Icewalker’s Motto: The distance in, must be traveled out. A favorite quote of my creation years ago. Easy to say but not so easy to do sometimes. We like the challenges and adversity I feel. It brings something to an outing. Those moments when you look back at where you have just finished exploring as late afternoon ushers in the coming evening while the cold breeze nips at your face. You realize your frail nature and smallness in the face of nature. Your body would not easily survive a night out on the frozen surface of the swamp. The need to get out becomes real and very primordial then for me. That’s a big part of the experience for me. Something I chase. Something I have always chased even when I didn’t realize it. It’s something that touches my inner spirit in some strange way. An Icewalker’s gift from nature perhaps. But any location out in nature can gift something similar really. But the ice under your feet that holds you over the freezing water below, is something more. A flat path of quick travel at times or a slow, cautious push forward to hard reach destinations. This truly describes the annual Ice Falls trek I believe. Never the same experience although the location remains the same. Different ice below you and different ice hanging above you.

For me an ice walk is meditation through my feet. Step lightly with reflexes tuned in to the slightest movement or cracking sound. Tapping on the surface with my beaver stick trekking poles , probing like a blind person for hidden dangers. It’s something like that only much deeper. I never grow tired of sharing it. It is enough. ✍️

Into The New Year

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It’s past mid January now and the sun is gaining some intensity as daylight continues to increase each day now. The weather continues to swing back and forth like a pendulum. After the big thaw at the Homestead in December, we got more snow eventually but then a second thaw knocked it down again. Then more snow returned recently. There’s about a foot or so at the moment and temperatures are more like January. There’s some subzero weather coming this weekend it appears. I’ve been working around the weather to the best of my ability. The holidays kept me busy for a few days but collecting firewood has continued to be my main activity.

Working the landing below the Gap Ridge.

Most of my wood cutting activities have occurred across the meadow still at the base of the Gap Ridge near the Long Narrow Meadow. There quite a bit of burn ready dead elm to harvest there and I decided to get it gone and out of sight. It’s amazing the amount of wood I burn in the tiny cabin while I am staying there. I usually top off my supply when I’m there so I don’t need to draw down my wood shed reserves. Cutting wood is necessary but I can tire of it at times. It’s nice to engage in some fun adventures!

Xmas Eve was one of our recent adventures. Zane and I celebrated it up on the mountain ( Washburn name for a local series of high,rocky ledges) for our 3rd time in 3 years. We chose the same location as 2024 as there’s a nice supply of firewood close by for our bonfire. The location is known to us as the Mid Point. We premade a torch to take with us for a fun activity plus we even brought a few fireworks. The weather was decent for us and there wasn’t much snow to hinder our walking. We went up well before sunset and started gathering firewood. We found a few old pine resin stumps that make fabulous bright fires.They smell great plus burn for a long time. But we almost found some hardwood to add to the fire to burn hot and create coals.

I spotted an old cairn that I had made with Zane years ago near our bonfire place and pointed it out to him. Due to the lack of snow,we found a few stones to add to it and made some basic repairs. It was great reminiscing about it and telling him about it. He doesn’t really remember building it all those years ago.

The cairn.

The sun began to set and we walked over to a nearby bluff that we call the Low Point to get a better view of it. It was pretty incredible! We remarked about our unique way of celebrating Xmas Eve these past few years. I find the mountain to be a great place to reflect with the horizons stretching off in all directions. It’s always been like that for me. And it seems like I usually only get there in the winter anymore. Ironically, I had been to the Mid Point in December hunting and had my gun misfire minutes later. I told that story to Zane and showed him where it happened even.

I also showed Zane the shallow cave that is close to the Low Point. I discovered it as a boy while exploring the mountain. It’s pretty neat except for all the porcupine manure inside of it. They like to shelter there apparently.

The sunset.

Back at the bonfire location I shot a cool video with some music playing as it got closer to getting dark. We started a small fire and continued gathering firewood while having a few drinks. It was all very intoxicating itself without the drinks really. Standing high above the surrounding countryside with the land falling away to the west, Canada is actually quite close as the crow flies. To the east, the foothills of the Adirondacks are visible. They appear gray and distant. In all directions there are the blinking lights of cell towers that weren’t there when I was a kid. But there’s always been lights visible at night from the mountain. Streetlights in a far off village. The white glow of artificial light from other towns and even the red lights of the international bridge to Canada near Ogdensburg. I think that’s what makes the mountain so special. Standing there with Zane, it was just the two of us under darkening skies as the world was busy off in the distance. We were separate from everything in the moment it seemed. Isolated and vulnerable in some strange sense. And we increased the size of our fire as the evening began to grow colder. We eventually lit our fireworks as part of our celebration. It was all so very fun! We sat around on the cold ground, played music, and enjoyed the fire for several hours before returning to the Homestead.

The bonfire.🔥

Another recent adventure was ice fishing this past Saturday. We hit a small lake near us for northern pike. Fortunately there was around 12” of good ice and very little slush on it. We ended up having a very busy day chasing flags and catching fish. We kept 4 decent pike to take home in the end. We let several bass go as they are out of season at the moment not to mention several smaller pike we call “slinks”. We actually ran out of bait by the end of the day! That doesn’t always happen! Zane and I hadn’t been ice fishing in almost 3 years we realized while we were out on the ice talking about it. It seemed strange to us at that moment but apparently we hadn’t made it a priority.

Gracie guards a tip up!

Looking back though, I can use my photo gallery to fill in the blanks of all the time that has passed. Then everything makes more sense to me. Because despite our best efforts sometimes it’s really difficult to do it all isn’t it? This winter I have taken up reading again. Something I once spent a lot of time doing during the colder months. I enjoy sitting in the mornings drinking my coffee and working on small writing projects. I do find myself needing the outdoor time though to recharge my spirit batteries. Doing firewood helps keep me in shape for those upcoming winter adventures that I hope to have before maple syrup arrives in March. At times it seems like winter is going to last forever but when you realize that it’s January 20th, you get a different perspective on everything. There’s a small surge in my energy now as some of my favorite winter activities beckon me to get outside and engage with nature. I hope to capture those stories in greater detail at some point. In the meantime I am connecting with nature as I can. When I can.

Remember the word WHIMs? It stands for Winter Has Its Moments! As for MOONTABS? I believe you probably know that one pretty well by now! The Icewalker series is returning soon. It is time. ✍️

Fireworks on the mountain!

Why Wait?

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Yesterday was Winter Solstice! Now the daylight will begin its slow return to later sunsets! Earlier sunrises too for that matter. Regardless, it’s a slow process at first but it will become more noticeable in time. For me the best days of winter often come later in the season.

I have gotten ready for Xmas and didn’t wait till the last minute to do my shopping like I did years ago. Ordering online sure has helped with that! We cut a Xmas tree just over one week ago and it was a fun outing despite the deep snow near St. Regis Falls. We were unable to get a balsam so we settled for a white spruce that was around 7’ tall. It’s a nice tree and it provides a truly traditional look to the house.

As the year draws to a close, I find myself reflecting on the months now past much like I do most years. I decided to do a writing and photo series on Facebook that I titled “The Year In The Rear”. It doesn’t really interest people to be honest. But neither did a similar project I did last year. That’s ok, as I find taking the time to reflect on the months now past a good writing exercise overall. It’s beneficial to observe my activities month by month to gauge where I invest my time. True to form, my activities are quite predictable actually, following the seasons that include my favorite hobbies and annual adventures. I suppose at some point you could stop reading the blog and pretty much guess what I am up to at certain times of the year. But don’t get too comfortable doing that as I may surprise you from time to time. And while many of my activities are typical for me, the individual stories and memories that are made are quite different indeed. And this past summer was far from ordinary!

Lots of snow in the Adirondacks!

As my posts would indicate, I spent much of my summer chasing adventures in Canada, living in the Airstream out of a base camp setting in Quebec. What a great experience! And all these months later I still haven’t shared all my stories about my experiences! As winter settles in and I spend less time outdoors, I find myself wanting to write more about those experiences. And one thing you will notice is me jumping around on the timelines. Think of it as time travel of sorts. A jump from the now to the past and back again in a grand spin of time. Time travel isn’t possible in real life (although some scientists will disagree) but in writing it poses no problem. With some words,I could accurately describe a future location where I will be going this winter and hopefully make you feel like you are there. It’s easy to visualize the now. And with photos from my gallery, it’s easy to portray a journey back in time. No big revelations there I guess. Writing in chronological order doesn’t necessarily suit me it would seem. It’s time to share an adventure from last July. It’s a place quite familiar if you’ve followed my blog any length of time. But the circumstances were slightly different. I made a sudden decision one day while in Quebec shortly after returning from the states with my small boat and followed through with it. I was tired of waiting for good fishing success to find me! Why wait I thought?

It didn’t take me long out on the big lake at the outpost ( Kipawa Lake) to realize that fishing was going to be challenging for me. Some early success was followed by some struggles to catch walleye. The lake trout fishing was equally challenging for me as well. I tried new locations and explored around the lake but I just wasn’t having any degree of success. Other fishermen at the outpost were doing better but they were traveling some distance to make decent catches. And the sheer size of the lake was often a little daunting in my 14’ boat. Wind and big waves were a detriment and a deterrent on several occasions, keeping me from going out fishing in the first place. I was beginning to get a little disappointed with my decision to place myself on such a large lake. Something needed to change! I decided that I wanted to go to a place I knew well and try for walleye!

Tree across the road back in the bush!

I made contact with the outfitter where we were going to be spending a week in late August ,on our annual trip fishing trip ,and asked if I could rent a boat and camp on an island there. It was too rough a journey in to beat my boat and trailer getting it there so renting a boat was necessary.They said no problem but there was a cost to camp and to fish in the lake. When I factored in the costs and the fact that the bugs were still so bad,I began to reconsider camping. I asked if any cabins were available and they said they had one that I could rent near my preferred location on the lake. I had seen the cabin from a distance before but had never been inside it. They said that the water and fridge would be turned on for me if I wanted to come for a few days. It was a no brainer really for the added cost to the trip. I said yes and booked a three night stay. I would have more than enough room and all the amenities! Why bother camping? I began to prepare for my departure on July 2nd.

Getting to the landing of the lake where I would pick up my boat for the trip to my cabin would be an arduous 4 hour drive total. The logging roads get worse the further you travel in on them. I was very familiar with the main dirt road towards the outfitter for the first 38 kilometers. It’s was the “819” that I had been traveling since arriving in Quebec and I knew those first kilometers would be the fastest and easiest. After that things would slow down considerably. I made sure that I had my bow saw and brush nippers loaded into the truck. Sometimes on previous trips we have needed to use them. All part of the adventure. I was wondering what the conditions of the roads would be as there had been a couple windy thunderstorms in the last few days. And there’s usually beaver dams flooding sections of the road. It’s always a gamble!

I left late in the morning ,right on schedule, on July 2nd as planned. I had my bait, food, and everything else I knew I needed from previous trips. There’s no getting anything once you’ve there! The road was good until about half way in and then I had to start getting out of the truck to cut back brush that was hanging into the road. No doubt from the recent storms and apparently no one else had been through yet. At one point there was a big black spruce most of the way across the road that took some time to clear away. I had to continue to stop more frequently as the journey continued and I was getting overheated, not to mention the attacking mosquitoes that would find me. I did eventually reach the outfitter after a 5 hour trip to reach the landing. Step one was complete!

Cabin 3.

The outfitter and his daughter were at the landing fortunately. They helped me get loaded up while we talked and caught up with life. We know each other fairly well now. I was happy to hear that they had gotten brand new Yamaha 15 hp outboard motors. These modern 4 stroke engines sip gas! Gracie took her spot in the bow of the boat which is typical for her.The boat was roomy but loaded. I had a lot of gear for one person it seemed! The lake was quite calm for the time of day so I expected that it would be a smoother boat ride to the cabin. It takes about 20 minutes to get there. At least I know where most of the rocks are located. That’s handy as the outfitter doesn’t always mark them well.I would be at my cabin in time to settle in and still make it out for the evening walleye fishing. Perfect! The outfitter had said that the fish were biting good in fairly shallow water. I knew exactly where I would be going as I know the lake rather well and we have several favorite spots. That’s a comfortable place to find yourself I feel.

I found my cabin ready for me with a cold fridge and the water working. All was well! I didn’t care for the sliding entrance door though as it looked like mosquitoes might find a way inside. We will find out ,I thought.After a quick snack, Gracie and I headed out towards our fishing spot that would take about 10 minutes to reach. The lake was still fairly calm which is always a plus although we never mind the small waves we call “ walleye chop”. Minus our gear we zipped right a long at full throttle. We reached our destination and set up the fish finder to hit the depth I wanted, then dropped the anchor. It was nice to be back at the lake, anchored off an island at a place we call Raspberry Point. My timing was perfect for the evening fish!

Fishing companion.

I quickly got my pole baited up with a leech on a bait float in about 15’ of water and settled in to wait for a bite. The fish finder showed some activity near the bottom of the lake. Usually a sure sign of walleye as they feed just above the bottom most of the time. The bite started slow but picked up soon. It was exciting when my pole nodded gently as a walleye toyed with the bait. I soon had one hooked after that! A nice 19” one that I had to net by myself. That can be challenging at times! I was really enjoying myself as the fish that were biting were decent sized. Well before dark I had 4 walleye in the boat. More than I could eat in one meal as they were all in the 16-19” range. I didn’t catch throwbacks at all. We call them Beckies. They’re the ones under 15”. Some days we catch lots of them. Due to my good fortune, I decided to head back early to clean fish before it got dark. I still had plenty of time to catch my take home limit of 6 keepers in the next couple days. After all the tough fishing on Kipawa Lake it was nice to get some quality walleye fishing in with little effort. I knew that I had made a good decision to come! I felt totally in touch with nature. A true hunter gatherer moment.

In the cabin away from the mosquitos.

When Gracie and I arrived back at camp it was still light. Darkness wouldn’t hit until almost 10pm. The forest behind the cabin was alive with a buzzing hum. Could it possibly be all mosquitoes? I soon realized that yes that’s what I was hearing! And they began to swarm around me and Gracie. We retreated to the cabin and I decided to clean the fish inside. I made a dinner of fried walleye and potatoes as darkness finally settled over the lake as the last of the sunset disappeared from view. We were hundreds of miles from home and way back in the bush on a remote lake with almost no one around. There were some other fisherman in a cabin about a half a mile away and the outfitter was at the caretaker cabin past that. The night was incredibly dark and quiet except for the buzzing of mosquitoes. It was strange being there alone but I was ok with that. Later on, I turned out all the gas lights, then Gracie and I crashed out in one of the bedrooms and discovered that some mosquitoes had managed to get into the cabin. I killed a few and eventually passed out from exhaustion. It had been a long day!

The next morning Gracie and I woke up to windy conditions. After coffee we went out to fish but were driven in by the waves with no luck. Gracie doesn’t mind the waves usually but these ones were bad. We couldn’t set our anchor and get it to hold in our fishing spots so we went back to camp for brunch. I had frozen 2 of the biggest walleye the night before just to guarantee some take home fish. I wasn’t planning on eating walleye everyday but I was hoping to be able to catch fish that evening. We sat out the day doing camp chores and taking a nap at one point after getting a nice hot shower. This sure beat camping out! Time was already speeding by as it always does at bush camp.

As evening came on the wind subsided some and we headed out to fish. It turned out to be a beautiful evening and the bite was turned on! It was none stop action! I caught some nice walleye and threw most of them back. The size was mixed but there plenty of fish biting and I went through a bunch of bait. I had worms and leeches but the walleye preferred the leeches. Luckily I had brought plenty! We headed back early again before dark and the sunset was wonderful! That’s always been a plus of this lake, beautiful sunsets! My walleye count was adding up and the less than perfect fishing on the other lake no longer bothered me. This was living! It was a little strange being there by myself but I had Gracie for company so I didn’t mind. I was able to call home on my satellite phone and check in so everyone knew that I was doing fine.

Out on the “Markers”.

It was another typical night at the cabin. I had closed up windows to try and keep the mosquitoes out but they still managed to get it. I had some fogger and put it to use around the screens and window frames. Fighting back against the mosquitos felt good actually. I realized how bad it would have been for me had I been camping out of a tent! I made walleye,beans, and potatoes for dinner. I put them on a plate together to create a dish that I call “The Hot Mess”. It’s awesome! And just like that it was bedtime again. I had a good screen on my bedroom window and had my window open. I could hear the buzzing of the bugs in the forest but it didn’t bother me. I drifted off to sleep as a bit of moon glow lit the clearing by the cabin.

I don’t know what time it happened but I awoke to hear a blood curdling sound of some sort. I believe it happened twice but I only really heard it good one time. I still don’t know what made the sound but it was big! I jumped out of bed really alarmed and grabbed for my fillet knife. I went to the window but saw or heard nothing. I had trouble sleeping after that and put my two knives within reach. Gracie seemed indifferent and not disturbed at all. What could have made that sound? A moose? A bear? A lynx? Or sometime that I decided not to think about! An alien! Or a Sasquatch! Needless to say I didn’t fall asleep right away. But the rest of the night passed without incident.

Night in the cabin.

The morning dawned calm and cool. After coffee I got out for some fishing and added to my total count. I now had my limit of take home fish in the freezer. 6 nice ones! My numbers were adding up and if things continued to go well I would leave the lake with some respectable fish catch numbers. Later in the day as I was relaxing in the cabin I saw something swimming across a narrower section of the lake near the cabin. It was a moose I soon learned! I chose not to take the boat over for a closer inspection and watched it until it disappeared onto the shoreline. After that the outfitter’s daughters came by looking for a section of missing dock. I helped them load it onto their boat and haul into place. It was pretty beat up but was still usable. I headed out for my final evening fish and it was another productive catch night! Everything had to be released though as I had all that I could legally keep. It was plenty and I had eaten some also.

The Hot Mess! Yum!

Gracie and I headed back early from fishing and I decided to have a fire despite the mosquitoes. The sunset was fabulous and next to the fire the bugs were tolerable. I didn’t have much firewood so I had to call it an early night once the bugs got worse. My final night in the cabin was uneventful and quiet. But I hadn’t forgotten about the unidentified sounds from the night before and my knives were close by!

And just like that my mini trip was over! It was time for the drive back out. At least the road was in better condition! I had caught an impressive 64 walleye in just three days! My techniques for fast catch, net, and release provide for the best possible conservation practices. Severely wounded fish make it to the fish fry or take home count. Protecting a lake like this one is important as they are not easy to find these days. I was feeling great about finally catching some walleye! I had truly enjoyed the solitude and quiet time away from everything. My accommodations had been simple and adequate.The fishing had been a total rush for me! There’s nothing quite like watching a walleye thump cautiously on your bait! And the fight that follows if you set the hook! And of course who can’t be mesmerized up by the remoteness of the lake and the miles of undeveloped shorelines? The big skies and the always fabulous sunsets! I find the experience a total battery charging moment in time. There’s really nothing quite like it really! And when Zane and my friends are there too? Over the top fun! I hope to continue to do this for as long as I live! I truly love the bush country lakes of Quebec! ✍️

Beaver dams and bush country roads.

Hunting Away The Gathering Days: Autumn 2025

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Winter solstice is but a few days away but we’ve been having winter weather for some time now. Our first snow in Macomb was around November 16th. There’s been lots of snow up in Santa Clara and the Adirondacks in general this autumn. Now that it’s mid December, the snow doesn’t seem like anything but fairly normal. A cold snap brought some recent single digit weather and even some negative temperatures. -8 degrees in Santa Clara one night! Brrr!

Hunting season went by quicker than expected and we never saw any bucks during rifle season. I sat in the different tree stands we had built but not even any does ever came close. The deer seemed to move about a lot. Some nights there would be a couple in the meadow by the barn after dark. Zane hunted some during rifle season but didn’t see anything either. I still hunted some as well. Wandering around helped me try to figure out where the deer were staying.

From the “Metal Chair” tree stand.

We got a pop up hunting blind to use in areas where we had no tree stands. We used it some but I think it’s a little better suited to early season hunting. We never saw any deer while sitting in it. I sat in it one evening as we got hit by some heavy freezing rain. It was nice to be out of that! I later moved it to a new spot right before the season ended but never saw anything there either. We will experiment with it more next year. It’s got potential.

As we got closer to the end of rifle season, Zane and I did some deer drives. We pushed out a few deer but neither of us got a shot. Some fresh snow the final weekend of rifle made for some decent tracking conditions. That was fun! It was easy to identify where the deer were moving.

Deer activity in one of the meadows.

The weather turned pretty crappy the final weekend of rifle season and the snow was starting to add up. I wandered around some in the wind and snow hoping to get lucky. It was not to be. But we still had late muzzleloader season for one week to try and fill unused tags. It had turned rather cold and there were many flocks of geese suddenly moving south. You could easily spot several flocks at any given time for a couple days. It was obvious that things were moving closer to winter.

During all this time I was busy getting some wood cut and cleaning up some fallen die off maples that kept dropping limbs into the meadow below the Gap Ridge. They were a bit of an eyesore from the cabin windows and I was tired of looking at them. Not to mention that there was some nice dead red elm to cut in the same area. I decided to make a small landing on the edge of the meadow after cutting down the brush that had overtaken the old fence row. I built a large brush pile and added sections of rotten maple logs to it using the tractor. I had a great fire one night and kept it going for a couple days. Fire is the best way to ditch old logs and brush.

Operation Burn Clear returns!

I had done something similar once near that location and had called my work “Operation Burn Clear”. It’s a good title for some goals Zane and I have for reclaiming the meadow edges. It’s going to take some time that’s for sure.

Gathering firewood is never a wasted effort and we always end up needing it. I have gone through quite a bit of firewood in the cabin this fall actually. I have brought a few loads of wood to Amy’s this fall. There’s a wood stove and a wood boiler in the basement so it has been a nice complement to the 25 cord that came with the house back in September. I usually top off my supply in the cabin when I’m getting a truck load of wood cut up. I like the smaller pieces of super dry red elm for the small wood stove that heats it.

There’s no shortage of dead trees on the farm to attempt to get cleaned up. I don’t think we could get caught up unless we started using much more. So it’s pick and choose for the best ascetics. After the burn bans of the spring,summer, and early fall, it was nice to be able to burn.

Touched off!

I was lucky to get a load of wood cut and hauled before last week’s big snow storm that started Tuesday and went into Wednesday. By Thursday I needed to plow the driveway out at the farm for the first time this fall. There was so much snow that the Honda utv could barely plow through. Luckily I had some previous trails to follow in the prior snow that I managed to reopen. Good thing it has four wheel drive! I tooled around looking for deer sign but it was absent near the barn and up beyond the Gap Ridge. NP. I’d go try somewhere else.

I got my muzzleloader out and fired a couple primers to temper the barrel before loading it. I didn’t fire it as I didn’t want to dirty the barrel. Something I would live to regret! I sat last that night up in the hunting blind after spinning the way up into the woods with the Honda to reach a place to park nearby. It was bitter cold and there were no fresh deer tracks anywhere near. It was time for a new strategy I decided. On Friday I would press hard for “The Mountain”. It would be difficult with almost knee deep snow but the deer had been hanging around in the meadows near the base of it. The plan was simple: wade the deep snow slowly and hit the high ledges for the view if nothing else. It’s something I like to do usually,minus the deep snow. It was the best idea that I could come up and what I had been trying hadn’t worked to date.Time was running out! Deer season closed at sunset on Sunday night!

Shadow Man sporting a chainsaw.

Friday dawned cold and clear with mostly clear, cerulean skies. As the sun climbed higher so did the temperature. It was a fine day for hunting! Much better than other recent ones of falling rain,snow, and blowing winds. The plan was simple. Carry a survival pack with food,water, fire starting kit, knife, etc. plus extra speed loaders for the gun. They are super handy as they contain everything you need to unload for one shot. I also would wear micro spikes for better traction after a test proved that they were fairly silent in the deep snow. I chose a mid morning start to give myself plenty of time before dark to complete my trek.

I walked the road until I reached the state land that would lead me to the Mountain. If you follow my writing then you know about the high rocky ridge that sits above Beaver Creek is what the Washburn family calls “The Mountain”. It is the highest place around and a great place to catch a view of the surrounding countryside. And sometimes there are deer to be found! Although I have never bagged one while hunting there.

It was difficult walking in the deep snow but I took my time. Falling with the gun would be bad anytime but worse in the snow. Luckily my muzzleloader has a nice sling so I put it over my neck so my hands were free. This helped me wade up to the first rocky outcropping that I had named “ The Low Point” many years ago. There’s a great view of the farm meadows there and even our big red barn is visible. I hung out for a bit to catch my breath and enjoyed the somewhat panoramic vista. Well worth the effort to get there!

View from the Low Point.

I left the Low Point and made my way towards my next destination the “Mid Point”. It’s another great viewing area also with mostly panoramic sights in all directions. It was the destination Zane and I chose last Xmas Eve for our celebration fire. We hope to return this Xmas Eve to continue our newest adventure tradition for year three. The first year we had our fire at the Low Point. These experiences may be in an old blog post. If not then I had better write one!

While walking towards the Mid Point I came across a single set of partially snowed in deer tracks. Not terribly exciting really. But encouraging to a degree. Up on the Mid Point I once again caught my breath and enjoyed the views. Off to the east of where I stood, I saw what looked like deer tracks so I went to investigate slowly and quietly in the deep powder snow. I moved almost ghostlike I felt. I held my muzzleloader in my hands when I reached the tracks and realized that they were very fresh! But where were the deer?

I moved towards the edge of a ledge to get a better look. I could see deer tracks below me. A flash of movement caught my eye and a deer came into sight from the left of me. Unbelievably close! A mere 30’ away! And I suddenly realized it was a buck! It stopped and turned towards me but it was like I was invisible. Time seemed to stand still as I stood unmoving from my high tactical advantage point.The buck turned and continued walked parallel a long a flat section of another ledge below me. I popped my scope lenses cover and pulled back my hammer just in time as the buck stopped for a second. He was in my crosshairs just 40’ from me when I pulled the trigger. What happened next played out in slow motion but not for long!

When I pulled the trigger my muzzleloader made a fizzling sound like a dud Roman candle instead of the loud bang I expected. There was a tiny puff of smoke and no recoil. The sound alerted the buck and he ran down the face of the ledge with mighty leaps and gave a couple warning snorts to his companions. Doe’s from his harem I believe but I never saw them.

I stood in shock and total disbelief! Disappointment washed over me like a wave. A misfire had happened apparently. But was my weapon clear? I quickly pulled my breach plug to find that my projectile had left the barrel. But with what velocity was the question. Had I wounded the buck after all? I made my way down to where I had last seen him but there was no blood anywhere. Not a drop. Now I was super disappointed. I had waited for this moment the entire season. Now it was gone because of equipment failure. Damp powder pellets were my best guess. Perhaps the result of condensation. I regretted not firing my gun that morning for a test shot. It would have dried the barrel and had it not fired properly I would have known. Damn the bad luck I thought as I trudged back to the cabin feeling rather defeated.

On the Mid Point.

Back at the cabin I played the events over and over again in my mind. I discharged my muzzleloader and it worked perfectly. I decided to take the Honda up to retrieve the hunting blind while I decided my next strategy. I would take my gun of course. Just in case.

I got the hunting blind folded up and loaded into the Honda and started back down the trail. I had noticed some deer tracks on the way in so I slowed down to study them. There is a long valley that I could see down at one point on my way out. And suddenly I spotted a deer! It was lying down actually. Totally brown and visible on the bright,white snow. I didn’t stop the Honda but kept going down the trail to where a ridge hid the valley from view. I left the wheeler running, grabbed my gun, and creep up over the ridge. I spotted a second deer lying down but my angle was wrong. I stalked my way up the ridge a second time further down and suddenly spotted a third deer. I inched a little closer and decided that I could make the shot at the newest deer that I had spotted. A big doe but my tag was good for that. I might never get a better chance than this. I fired.

My gun performed flawlessly. The deer didn’t run and I knew right off that I had made a kill shot. For that I was grateful. And just like that my luck had changed. I still felt bad about missing the buck. ( did I really miss him in a sense?) I walked up on my fallen prey and thanked her for her sacrifice. I felt blessed for good eyesight and steady hands. And there was that moment of sadness that comes when killing a deer. But there was work to do and it was turning colder even though it was only 3 pm!

Thankful for a kill shot.

I had trouble loading the big doe even after field dressing her. With the help of a rope I got her into the back of the Honda finally. Back at the farm I hoisted her up in the warehouse and made ready to cut her up. It was getting late so I needed to set up the generator for lights. Zane came over to help and eventually the deer was skinned,trimmed, and quartered into our large cooler. The end to a day of ups and downs. But my deer hunting season was over just like that. And I took catch my breath again. My deer wouldn’t get the chance to freeze solid during the super cold night. I had made that mistake years ago once. Never again if I can help it!

So this week I have been cutting up the deer and packaging it. I made over 30 lbs of venison burger from my big doe. We are in good shape for the winter months to come. Venison, walleye, and some morel mushrooms in the freezer. Hunting deer was something that I had given up for quite a few years actually. But I am glad that Zane got me interested in taking it back up again. It’s been quite the fall! Lots of great memories and lessons to be learned. And we sure are enjoying all the wonderful lean meat that’s super healthy!

Hunting and gathering are a big part of my rural heritage lifestyle. I’m excited to be sharing this with Zane. We have big plans for next season already! Until then we wait for what comes next. Winter will bring new adventures and new opportunities. Challenges and fun times. And maple syrup season is never too far from my thoughts. I will sit by the wood stove and enjoy maple syrup infused coffee while pondering it all. I will listen and see where my spirit energy leads me. And we’ll enjoy meals from our successful harvests from the bounties of nature. We truly are connected. And for that we are forever grateful with most humble thanks! MOONTABS! ✍️

The Salvation Of The Beaver: Part 2

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The camping trip to Lac Sairs in Quebec has reached noon of the second day. Gracie and I have returned to TP Island to have lunch and regroup. We have two main priorities to achieve: a simple canoe anchor and firewood for our evening campfire.

It had turned out to be a beautiful day with mostly sunny skies. Warm and not too windy. Just as I finished lunch and was relaxing in the sun, a group of three canoeists stopped by to visit the island. They were creating a photo tour guide for a tour guiding paddle business they worked for in Ville Marie. Ville Marie sits above the Temiscaming region to the north about an hour away. While they were there the wind picked up and I watched them struggle up the lake towards the creek inlet that would bring them to a stashed vehicle at the Lac Charette launch. Tough going for them as they had heavily laden canoes full of camping gear in nice dry sack bags. Eventually they entered the creek and disappeared from sight.

I set about making an anchor for the canoe. But not just any anchor. My anchor would be more like a crib. I would set it in place and leave it temporarily only connecting to it when I needed it. In the shallows of the rift I could position it so I could anchor the canoe just past the drop off in the current. The plan involved an old washing machine drum that someone had dragged out to TP Island for some unknown reason. Filled with rocks it would make an excellent crib for anchoring the canoe! All I needed was some extra rope to get the canoe out into deeper water.But people had left some on the island also. On the sandy island rocks were scarce but I managed to find enough to weight the drum down. Getting out to the Rift and setting the anchor was challenging but I managed to get it done. I tested my new creation and was pleased to find it fully functional. Now to get after the firewood!

The mine island.

I decided to head up the river towards the beaver lodges in search of firewood. I found some decent birch bark on some dead trees in one spot but the steep bank made for hard gathering. I kept going looking for easier access. Near a somewhat high and dry beaver house that looking like it might still be occupied, I found a great selection of old dry beaver sticks of various sizes. I got busy with my bow saw and loaded up the canoe with everything I find. Bless those beaver I thought! This is great! A far cry from my attitude the day before as it turned out. I decided that I had enough wood for the night and headed back to the island. I was grateful for the beaver and their gifts of dry firewood. I have collected beaver sticks and beaver firewood many times over the years. I truly do share a special connection with them. Thus damnation was salvation in a twist of fate.

Loaded with dry wood!

As I neared the island I realized that it was going to be difficult to haul all that wood up across the beach to the fire ring. It was windy up there also. Down closer to the water was another old fire ring out of the wind. An idea came to me then. Why not have my evening fire down closer to the canoe and the supply of wood? So I spruced up the fire ring into a three sided one with a higher back to reflect some of the heat back. I had my folding chair so a comfortable spot would be easy to find next to the fire.

As I moved around on the sand I noticed how much the sun had warmed it. And how soft the deep layers of it felt. An idea came to me suddenly! Since there were no biting insects why not sleep right on the beach next to the fire? Someone had abandoned a torn sleeping bag on the island and it was tangled up in one of the clothes lines they had left. It seemed clean enough after being rained on several times recently. It would make a great mattress after I put my tarp over it. I put things together and tested out my new mattress. Perfect! Way better than the hard ground inside the tent. I was excited about spending the night on the beach! I set my mattress away from the fire ring to use later and got ready for the evening fish. But first I took a quick bath in the lake and washed my hair. I felt so much better after that even though it was chilly.

The beach.

Fishing started out slow at the Rift but my anchor worked great! Eventually I started getting bites and was getting excited about catching a walleye. I hooked a biter and as I got it to the surface I realized that it was a bullhead not a walleye. I moved around some near the Rift but all I caught was several more bullhead. I decided to head in and enjoy some campfire time. The walleye fishing was proving to be a little difficult unfortunately. And there weren’t many fish showing up on the fish finder. Fishing is great but it’s not everything for every moment. I would try again in the morning.

Back at the beach I scrounged up some additional firewood around the island and picked up more garbage also. I had collected quite a bit of miscellaneous garbage to haul out with me by this time. Some super dry TP was skewered and later tossed into the fire. I was tired of looking at it. I started the fire and settled in to relax.

Time to relax!

I decided to keep dinner simple and opted for a Mountain House freeze dried meal in a pouch. All that’s needed is some boiling water and some stirring. The entrees aren’t all that bad really and super fast to make. The rocket stove makes quick work of boiling the water. I enjoyed a beef stew with veggies while Gracie had her canned dog food. Dessert was dried fruit.

It was a lovely evening and the wind died down as the sun set. It had cooled down some and the sky had cleared of clouds. Stars began to appear and nighttime came in earnest. It’s that time of day when I realize that I am committed to staying another night. Leaving in the dark would be not be impossible but certainly difficult. It’s a strange thing that I often consider when I place myself in such positions. Not based on fear but something different. It’s connected to the survival outside the normals for me. Life is very different when out camping as most campers will probably agree. The tasks. The chores. Most everything we do is done differently. As are our shelters that we use. My decision to sleep out in the open was part of something bigger for me. I hadn’t done it in years actually. Sleeping outside around the farm property these days would likely lead to one or more blood sucking ticks being imbedded on your body. I hadn’t even seen a tick in Quebec so it was a gamble that I was willing to take. By the fire I accepted the coming of night and all it represented after my busy day. The fire was great and I had found a piece of pine resin stump to burn. Bright, smoky, and deliciously fragrant from the pine pitch concentrated within the roots. My favorite!

The pine resin wood catches hold!

Around the lake the loons called from various locations. Ducks came into the shallows nearby to feed for the night but were spooked by my presence. Overhead some geese were headed south I presumed. Fall was approaching and it was in the air as the heat of the day left the sand. The receded beaches smelled of wet sand and organic vegetation in the night air. I grew tired and set up my mattress bed as close to the fire as I dared. The stars came out in full force but the moon rise would eventually overtake them to a degree. I lay on my back and began counting orbiting satellites overhead. I was amazed at the number I saw before the moonlight made them hard to spot. Technology is difficult to escape even if we want to these days. And I wondered if any of the satellites I saw were part of the group that my Iridium 3 satellite phone communicates with when I use it in the back bush country. My thoughts turned to home and everyone there far so from me. But I didn’t call anyone. I was pretty content in the now moment. I threw on the last of the wood and drifted off to sleep with Gracie curled up nearby.

Morning came early with a wet, heavy mist covering everything. I was reluctant to leave my warm sleeping bag but eventually did to get some coffee brewing. The sun was trying to burn through the mist but it was going to take some time. After coffee I went out to the Rift to fish. I managed to catch 2 walleye. A keeper and a throwback. I went back to camp for brunch then cleaned my keeper fish to take with me. I still had plenty of ice in my cooler. Getting packed up took some time but I got it done eventually. I set out across mostly calm water and reached the safety of the creek. But let’s not forget about those beaver dams! I ended up having to get out and pull the canoe across all three. The last and biggest one was almost too much for me. I made Gracie get out and take to the shore. I struggled across it after some rigorous tugging and picked up a rather anxious Gracie who swam after me even though she could have just waited.

Back at the truck we loaded up under cloudy skies and headed back to home base ahead of the rain that came later. I began to research for any information that I could find out about the mine on the island in Lac Sairs. But first I had used an app to identify my rocks. My green rocks were amazonite I soon learned. From there my research began to gather some momentum. I later learned that the island I visited is a premier site for finding amazonite in Canada! One of only two locations. I had stumbled onto something by accident! I then learned that amazonite is a mineral know for its healing properties according to some people. Valuable in larger pieces and sought after by rock hounds. I found references to an article from 1965 about amazonite prospecting on the island but not many other details. And I suddenly realized that I had never made even a remote connection to the name of the island when looking at maps of Lac Sairs. The island is named “Ile de l’Amazonite”. Of course at the time that would have meant nothing to me. Now it’s obvious! Further research is necessary to better understand the history of the island mine.

Lac Brennan is Lac Sairs.

In the picture you can clearly see the island that I visited. And directly above is TP Island and the Kipawa River I paddled. The Rift however is very different in the picture. Flooded and very different than what I experienced.

I left Canada shortly after returning from my camping trip with the Airstream in tow. I had enjoyed a memorable time exploring and fishing the Quebec bush country. There are other stories to tell of my experiences and adventures in Quebec. I hope to get them told at some point. One things for certain though. I hope to return to Amazonite Island with Zane to prospect more. And make the journey up to the Turner Chute to see the waterfalls. And maybe even camp at TP Island if it’s not to contaminated. Who can say for sure when that will be or how many other cool destinations are waiting for us out there? I have another lead on another mining location near Temiscaming. Time will tell. ✍️

The Salvation Of The Beaver:Part 1

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A rather chilly day here in Santa Clara as last night’s wet snow continues to melt. I completed a few small projects this morning so I figured it was a great time to share some recent experiences and follow up with part two of a story that I wrote a couple months ago.

If you read my last post then you know that hunting has been occupying some of our time lately. We haven’t had any luck coming across any bucks but continue to see a few does. We have added a couple tree stand locations to our hunting strategy.Simple affairs that provide absolutely no shelter from the elements. Getting off the ground is totally beneficial. Last Sunday afternoon as I sat watch in a chair while scouting a new location, a deer spotted me soon after walking within sight. Busted! The doe didn’t get too excited but she did wander off in the opposite direction. Hiding behind a tree wasn’t enough it seems. I was too obvious it became apparent.

One of our simple tree stands before camo netting was added.

Autumn rain and winds have removed most of the leaves now around the farm property. I have spent some time clearing out sections of our old tractor roads lately. Totally overgrown with weeds and berry bushes not to mention fallen trees. What a mess! I also cleared out a bunch of invasive wild honeysuckles in several areas. The “ battle of evermore” I call it, borrowing the name of an old Led Zeppelin song. The title of a post of mine years ago actually. Zane and I have been discussing a long term strategy for maintaining the farm property. It’s going to take some time and effort but past efforts have yielded modest success. Various small clearings exist where the invasives once held dominion. Much still needs to be done.

It seems like it was a very long time ago that I was in Quebec fishing and exploring. I suppose the change of season has something to do with it. There have been quite a few different tasks completed since I returned home actually. But never enough, it can feel like on occasion. Getting back into hunting was a good choice and I remain committed to creating a nice hunting preserve on the farm Homestead. Trails, trees, and time. Perhaps the title of a future post?

I go down to the St. Regis River here to see what a beaver has been doing since discovering it was living so close back in September. It’s a short trail to get to the river that I have cleaned out some for walking. Some of it was an old road once but it’s almost unrecognizable as such. From the top of once was an old bridge foundation, there’s an excellent view of the river. Off to the right sits an old beaver lodge that a beaver has taken over in the past few months. At the moment it has been extensively repaired as the beaver prepares for winter. I say beaver in a singular sense as I have sat by the river several times until dark and have only seen one. There could be another I suppose but based on the size of the winter brush pile that the beaver has accumulated next to the lodge I estimate only one. The brush pile is small if there are actually two beaver. I sometimes cut some small poplar near the house and leave them as offerings for the beaver. They always disappear along with brush I cut from the trail. Handy for both of us! Going to the river is quick and easy for me. It’s a nice respite when there’s not time for a longer jaunt.

The river beaver activity.

Watching the beaver activity here makes me think about my camping trip in Quebec that inspired the post “The Damnation Of The Beaver”. I certainly got peeved at the beaver on my journey into the lake on our two day camping trip! If you read that story then you know that I left the story as I went to bed on my first night at Lac Sairs. Out of firewood and wondering what to do to solve that problem the next day. TP Island had its downsides besides toilet paper left all over the place! But I was committed to staying another night.Consider reading that post if you haven’t if any of this is vague. That should fill in more blanks. I now rejoin the story as I wake from my first night of camping at Lac Sairs.

Morning came after a somewhat restless night and I was very sore from sleeping in the tent with no air mattress. No pillows either. Something that never bothered me years ago. I didn’t need a fire to make coffee as I had brought my butane rocket stove. It works well for cooking too. After coffee and morning camp chores, I headed to the rift drop off to try for walleye. I only got one small one though. After trying fishing for a while longer without any luck,I decided it was time to decide how to spend the day. After my rough night on the hard ground I wasn’t feeling up to my original plan of portaging the river rapids and trying for the Turner Chute. Something seemed off about the idea anyway. I can’t say for certain what was causing the misgivings. Something was creeping me out about the whole expedition. I was kind of torn about it but in the end I listened to my sixth sense. I decided to table the adventure until I had someone else with me some other time. My body wasn’t up for it at any rate so I followed my gut instincts.I wouldn’t be reaching the falls in 2025 unfortunately.

The rocket stove.

After some late breakfast I decided to paddle down the lake to explore a couple distant islands. The lake was fairly calm and I knew that my upper body could handle the trip no problem. Lugging Gracie around has its pros and cons. Her weight holds the front of the canoe down nicely. Handy when it’s windy. But 85 pounds in the front is a dead weight to paddle around when you need to paddle into the wind.

I tried more fishing but it was a bust. The fish finder indicated that the bigger section of the lake was rather deep. 30’ plus in most spots. I bypassed the first island and approached the high ridge of the second one nearby. It was high,rocky, and covered with pines and a mix of hardwoods. I figured that there might be some good firewood to be found. We were going to need some or have an evening without one.

As we rounded the curve of the island, I noticed a nice beach landing where there was an unoccupied campsite. There was a lower fire ring closer to the beach and a higher one up in the woods. There was a small amount of garbage laying around but much less TP than on TP Island. People were being a little more considerate here. There was a small pile of cut firewood near one of the fire rings that I decided to load into the canoe. Plunder of a sort. I bagged up some garbage to take out as a trade. There was an old fuel tank from some unknown vehicle or something laying in the rocks near the beach. Oddly out of place I thought. I had time so I decided to scout the island more.

The fuel tank.

Near the beach there was a trail headed up to the ridge. It was well worn and obviously used frequently. I hadn’t ventured far up the trail when I noticed that some rock piles looked man made. Further investigation revealed excavations and evidence of some simple mining. There were some interesting green rocks laying around and I put several nice pieces in my pocket. The green mineral deposits were in the face of the excavation running in what appeared to be veins. Interesting! What was all this about? I certainly hadn’t expected to find anything like this on a remote Quebec lake in the ZEC territories! But things were about to get even more interesting!

Further up the ridge there were other excavations hidden in the trees. I spotted something lower down in the trees and went to check it out. What I found surprised me! It was an old abandoned air compressor. The type used to run jackhammers and rock drills. Someone had been seriously mining on a small scale here! But why had they abandoned the air compressor? It must have been a costly piece of equipment to get out to the island in the first place.

The air compressor.

I was perplexed by the green rocks and finding the air compressor really got me thinking. There was more to all of this than I was seeing. At this point I was happy that I had abandoned my quest for the Turner Chute. I had been led to the island to discover something different. Spirit energy can nudge us at times. That’s what I chose to believe anyway. Gracie and I left the island with the wind picking up some making for some tougher paddling. But we eventually arrived back at TP Island after stopping to investigate another campsite near the mouth of the river near the rift. We were needing an anchor to better fish The Rift and I had an idea. And we still needed firewood for the evening. But it had been a great morning and I felt that the island mine had been a noteworthy discovery! ( to be continued) ✍️

Rifles And Knives

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Lots of new activities since my last post. Autumn has advanced quickly and most of the leaves are gone or soon will be at this rate. The popple trees are holding theirs at the moment as well as the oaks. Some lower brush type shrubs are retaining leaves as well. Especially the invasive wild honeysuckles. They really show up now. A grim reminder of the areas they are overtaking. But I have ripped up quite a few recently as I cleared out trails ahead of hunting season. Yes! We are hunting deer this year!

Zane and I had been talking about hunting deer this fall but were seriously handicapped by a lack of firearms. We both needed muzzle loaders and deer rifles. My Remington model 700 deer rifle has a potentially defective trigger that I never got replaced under the recall years ago. I decided we should not use it for safety reasons. So it’s just a showpiece at the moment. I never cared for it anyway. Chambered in 30-06 with a bolt action it always seemed heavy to me. I have carried it around some since getting it as a gift after the house fire of 2012, but I never truly felt comfortable with it. It’s practically brand new still. Honestly I had never really recovered from the loss of my Remington model 760 Gamemaster 300 Savage that had once belonged to my Grandfather Alvin Washburn. Purchased sometime in the 1950’s near as I could tell. It had sold for $100.00 plus dollars . ( its original box was in our attic with the price written on it). Our dad inherited it and it was in our house for many years although my dad never deer hunted till later years after he retired. He had given it to me by then and I had a gun dealer put a scope on it. I loved that gun! Lightweight with a pump action and ammo clip, it was a great shooting gun! I killed quite a few deer with it once I began deer hunting in the late 1990’s. Losing it in the fire was rather tragic for me. We lost all our guns that day. A truly horrible experience.

Sighting in a muzzle loader using the 13 yard method.

Once I knew that Zane truly was ready to hunt, I decided to buy a muzzle loader from a gun dealer we have purchased others through. He had a nice new CVA Wolf 50 caliber in stock at a fair price. The spending began! We needed everything. Primers, powder,sabots, and more. Several hundred dollars later we were ready to sight in the gun. We used the 13 yard rule and advanced out from there. It took quite a few shots to get the scope dialed in. Then came the cleaning. These newer guns are much easier to clean with their break breeches. A fair cry from the CVA Apollo that I killed deer with prior to the fire. Years ago we weren’t allowed to use scopes on muzzle loaders but the state changed that law some time ago. Zane was quite comfortable after firing the gun and receiving safety training from me. Now I needed a muzzle loader!

The gun dealer had a nice used CVA V2 Optima 50 caliber with a nice scope and sling. It has a stainless barrel and was in great condition. I decided to buy it. Also more accessories for Zane and I. This hunting hobby involves some cash flow! Good thing Zane is working and has his own money!

Things were ramping up with muzzle loader season just days away. I took the time to build a couple crude tree stands in strategic locations at the farm for Zane and I to use. I outfitted them with old 16’ wooden ladder sections and used old repurposed pressure treated lumber from a salvage job. Our metal ladder stand behind the barn was on the ground as the tree it was attached to had blown over at some point. I managed to salvage it but spooked a couple deer in the process. A good sign! I also cleared out some invasive wild honeysuckle near the one tree stand using the tractor and loader. Not to mention the old trail up beyond the gap that had become impassable from berry bushes and fallen trees. What a mess! Way different than the pastures I had hunted in the late ‘90’s. I now have the trail system in much better condition so at least we can walk it. The fallow meadows on the hill are weedy and overgrown. Difficult to spot deer in that’s for sure.

One of the tree stands. Simple and effective.

While all this was going on I was busy locating some deer rifles. Zane found a nice 1954 Remington model 760 Gamemaster in 300 Savage at a gun shop in North Dakota on GunBroker. GunBroker is a great place to find guns but there’s a commission involved with any transaction. But we were able to find the gun I truly wanted. It was as close to my Grandfather’s rifle as I was likely to ever find. Not cheap but it’s a collectible piece. I took a chance and I bought it. I made arrangements for it to be shipped to my gun dealer. FFL regulations must be followed for gun purchases. There’s a background check for guns and ammo. At a cost of course.It has to be paid. The price of doing business in this modern society.

Shortly after we found a beautiful 1979 Remington model 760 Gamemaster that was located in Minnesota. Through GunBroker again at a good price. I bought it also. We picked it up at our gun dealer last Friday and went to the farm to sight in my muzzle loader and the two 760’s. Lots of shooting! My muzzle loader was pretty easy to zero in fortunately. And the day ended with us preparing to start the muzzle loading season the next morning. Talk about a photo finish!

Zane tries out one of the Gamemaster model 760 rifles.

And that’s about it for rifles. No knives to mention really. We still need to buy a couple nice ones. I borrowed the title from a song I like by the band “ The Asteroid No. 4”. Zane and I are heavily invested in hunting season but things paid off last weekend for both of us. Both of us got deer! And I have spent a bunch of time getting them cut up and frozen. But all that is another story perhaps.

It took me many years to get interested in deer hunting again but I am glad to be back at it! And my new used rifle feels comfortable in my grasp. Familiar and known to me. Perhaps it has been waiting for me all these years. Who can really say? One things for certain, my model 760 brings back many memories! And I am back on the trails and in the trees.Observing as I hunt for deer and engage with nature. Connected in a hunter/gatherer mindset of rural heritage self reliance. I have gone full circle in some ways but did I ever truly leave? I believe this moment in time that I am sharing with Zane was waiting for the fullness of time to arrive. It is time for new MOONTABS as old ones circulate in my memory as I tell my son stories of who I once was as a hunter. But I have not forgotten I realize. Saturday would reinforce that for me. It is enough.✍️

Fast Forward:Stateside

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It seems like months instead of weeks since I was in Quebec. There’s been lots of catching up since getting back home. I returned with the Airstream on September 15th after a 6 hour trouble free trip. The trailer sure does tow nice behind the truck! What a nice pair up! I reached the Homestead late in the afternoon and decided to camp out next to the cabin. I was pretty beat from the fast trip home so it seemed like a logical choice.

Made it!

I soon learned after arriving at the Homestead that there had been a small forest fire on the mountain near the farm. It was contained to about an acre thanks to fire fighters getting there and getting it under control. It’s unclear what exactly caused the fire as there was no storm activity or lightning that night I was told. Fortunately the fire didn’t travel too fast or do much damage. It’s ironic that a fire occurred on the mountain as many years ago fire had destroyed the pine forest that once grew there. Charred stumps of large pine trees have survived over many decades lying on the bare rocks. The pine resin acts as a preservative of sorts and prevents rot.

I walked around the forest fire site but could not find any clues as to the origins of the fire. A very strange situation and there may never be any answers to the mystery. The small burned area provides an interesting study and it’s easy to imagine what the landscape might have resembled after the last fire event over hundred plus years ago.

The remains of the forest fire .

Things had remained very dry during my absence but some rain finally came recently. The trees are shedding leaves a little ahead of time this fall it appears. No doubt due to the dry conditions of the past several months. The garden ended up producing some decent cucumbers and tomatoes. The squash did produce some but frost arrived before some were fully developed. I will see what I can salvage soon.

The big activity since getting home has been helping Amy prepare to move from Saranac Lake to the Santa Clara area. We began moving truck and car loads shortly after the closing. There were things that needed to be in the house ahead of the movers arriving last Friday for the main and final move. We camped out at the new house for a couple nights and tried out the wood stove prior to that. The wood stove is a beautiful unit with sandstone heat sink inserts. There’s an abundant supply of dry,split firewood that came with the house so that was a nice bonus!

Nothing like a nice fire on a cool morning!

I have managed to do a few things around the Homestead as well. I got the wood splitter going and split up some wood for the tiny cabin. There were only a few pieces left in the back wood storage lean-to that’s attached to the cabin. It holds about a cord or so. The tiny wood stove in the cabin takes really short firewood. 8”-10” works best in it. I got the wood from the rather messy warehouse log landing. It really needs cleaning up. There’s all sorts of loose blocks of various lengths stacked up in random criss cross fashion. There are full length logs lying on top as well and in the bottom are partially rotten pieces that have been there for years. I am hoping to focus my attention on getting it cleaned up before heading afield for new logs. I would like to start out fresh there eventually.

Camp Edith is home still for the moment when I am not up in Santa Clara. It will need to be closed up and winterized sometime soon as today is October 1st. We won’t be trying to break last year’s record of staying there until well into November. That was fun though! And I was working at the time as well.It was a handy base camp!

There has been some unusual bird activity on the lake in front of the camp recently. Ducks and geese weren’t anything out of the ordinary but the big group of gulls and cormorants one day were. They were all over the place and highly energized in their activities. I caught them on video actually. Last week a large group of vultures were circling around over Bigge Island. I counted 60 at one point before they began to disperse. Very strange! Is all this attached to autumn and the annual migration season? I believe that must be the case.

The vultures over Black Lake.

Autumn seems to be ramping up quite quickly now. Nighttime frosts are becoming more common. Last year the frosts didn’t come until almost mid October. Many leaves have already dropped and we will soon pass peak leaf viewing in the Adirondacks. The St. Lawrence Valley is a little behind but the color is well underway here as well. Soon the lawn at camp will be covered with thousands of leaves but the two big maples beside the camp are still retaining them at the moment.

We have begun to explore some of the Santa Clara area in the past few weeks. We hiked a small mountain known as “ The Pinnacle” early in September and hope to return there soon. It offers nice views of the surrounding lower lands. We also paddled up the St. Regis River exploring the lake like sections near Route 458. It’s the remains of a former reservoir I was told but much shallower with the dam mostly gone now.There’s much more water to explore upriver. Downriver is a different story as there are a series of waterfalls and rapids. Those can be reached on foot.

The upper St. Regis River.

Near the house we have found a neat place for a short hike on a very nice trail that leads to the river. Apparently it was an old road once. We found some beaver activity nearby around an old beaver lodge that was once housing for a much larger group I believe. The beaver has done a little winterizing on the lodge with fresh mud and sticks but only halfheartedly in my opinion. Out front of the lodge there is a small pile of fresh sticks that the beaver has begun to assemble for its winter feed pile that will eventually freeze into the river. There is no need for a dam here as the river is wide and deep. I am speculating that a solo beaver is living here. A hermit beaver they are sometimes called. Maybe a retired one as well. One that no longer has to maintain dams and cut enormous brush piles to support a big family group. But I am only guessing.

The beaver lodge by the river.

I have been leaving some small brush for the beaver on the edge of the river and it has been cleaning it up for food. Yesterday I placed some in the afternoon and returned just before dark to try for a glimpse of the beaver. And to test my theory about the actual number of them living in the old lodge.

It was a beautiful evening as the sun set through the woods behind me. Fish made ripples on the surface of the river but remained out of sight. The afternoon’s offering of some fresh popple ( aspen) had not yet been touched. My timing was perfect I believed! I saw nothing for a few minutes from my high vantage point on the old bridge foundation and I remained perfectly still. My patience was soon rewarded as I saw ripples form in front of the beaver lodge as a beaver suddenly surfaced. I waited for it to swim my way but it was on an upstream mission. I watched it fade off into the distance intent on some sort of beaver business beyond my comprehension perhaps. I could surmise that it might be touring its territory in a show of force. Not uncommon behavior for these big rodents. I had seen a territorial mud scent mound upriver just the other day. But I was only guessing.Who knows what drives a beaver’s motivations?

It soon became obvious that the beaver was not going to return before dark but I waited in case a second one was around. And I suddenly saw some more ripples near the lodge! But it was only a muskrat. The muskrat disappeared under the water and I presumed it went inside the beaver lodge after. Maybe it lives there with the beaver! A natural odd couple possibly! But who knows for sure?

The beaver headed upriver.

Off to my left,the water flowing down the rapids echoed up the valley surrounding the river as the evening traffic quieted down. I could hear birds and a larger animal in the forest directly across the river but no living creature showed itself. And the light of the setting sun cast a golden glow in the forest behind me as a beautiful reflection revealed itself in the river before me. One that a photo can capture but never truly gift the viewer what the photographer experienced. It was one of those rare moments when everything was perfect. The light, the sounds, and the smells that only autumn can bring. Soft mossy ground below my feet and slowly flowing water carrying fallen leaves downstream. And the passage of time became so vividly apparent to me in that moment. For the time that was the now past summer had sped by in a flash , was being slowed for a moment it seemed. But I knew that time was not slowing down. I was, for just a moment. Perhaps a person needed to be there to capture some of that spirit energy.One of invisible flow attached to the air and water. Earth and sky. And all living things there engaged in harmonious synchronicity. It truly was a special moment.

The reflections.

This short post will bring you , the reader, up to date on current events. But I have not forgotten the story that is to be part 2 of the Quebec camping trip post titled “The Damnation Of The Beaver”. I need to tell that one properly, for a great discovery was made on that trip. There are a great many stories that I have not told it seems. And might a post titled “ The Salvation Of The Beaver” someday become a reality? Who can say for sure? Beaver sticks yet hold their charm for me as I hold them as my trusty hiking poles. And I continue to seek to add them to my collection. Are there not stories attached to each beaver stick I collect? Remembering them all may prove to be a mental exercise of mega proportions but time yet remains to get those stories down. And revel in the afterglow that radiates from the MOONTABS.✍️

What’s Been Learned?

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July 17th and lots has been happening here since my last post. I returned to Quebec with the boat on June 20th after a week back home. Zane and I had tried out the new 15hp Honda motor and it’s quite the powerhouse! It trailered up well and there were no incidents fortunately. I launched it that night and went out for walleye but only caught a couple little smallmouth bass that I threw back. But it was a beautiful evening with a spectacular sunset! Catching fish isn’t everything after all.

Wow!

The next day would become very memorable! Gracie and I set out on rather calm water to try for lake trout in a couple locations. After quite a bit of trolling I finally caught a small throwback 17” long. They must be 26” long to keep here now and your limit is one. 25 years ago you could keep two if they were 20” if I remember correctly. We had good luck catching them back then.

I was pretty happy to have caught a lake trout despite the fact that I wasn’t sure which lure to use. It’s no longer legal in Quebec to use the frozen real minnows we used for bait years ago. That gave us an edge I guess. They worked well! I heard a William’s W60 blue and silver spoon was a good choice for lakers here so I planned to buy one or two locally if possible.

Gracie and I headed in for lunch and a break before considering our move for the evening walleye fishing. It was looking like rain and a possible storm. I got to talking to some fellows in a rented cabin down by the outpost docks. They had two big boats for four guys. They were planning on trailing their boats to a section of the lake where they had fished in the past the next day. So they were sitting around having beers and talking. Nice people!

It started sprinkling but I decided to put my rain suit on and head out anyway. The lake was rolling pretty good and there were some big waves to travel as we headed to the “Beauvin Narrows”. I had a spot in mind there to try. A point that jutted out into the narrows. I had seen a boat there on Friday night.

There were no other boats around as I attempted to anchor the boat in 20’ of water on the point. I couldn’t get my anchors to grab. I was forced to hunker down behind an island nearby where I could hide from the waves. I had one bite but that was it. The wind and waves subsided some so I made a second attempt at anchoring on the point. I was successful that time! The rain had stopped at this point and I was happy about that!

Almost immediately after dropping my bait float and leech combo, I had a bite that I missed. But soon after I caught a beautiful 17” walleye! A fighter but I managed to net it. Shortly after that while tossing a jig with a worm I caught a second 17” walleye! This was great and I felt pretty fortunate! The bite suddenly stopped though as the wind picked up again.

A gust suddenly lifted my new hat off my head and I tried to hook it with a jig. No luck! I was forced to lift anchor and give chase after my fast moving hat! I retrieved my hat and suddenly noticed the black sky and fast moving clouds. Soon after I felt stinging rain drops and decided that I needed to get back to the dock! But I was suddenly hit with wind and a heavy downpour. I could barely see to steer the boat and the wind whipped up huge waves. Thunder and lightning added to the moment although it was off in the distance.

And so began a wild ride back from the narrows! I was soon soaked despite my quality Frog Toggs rain suit. But this was no ordinary rain storm! This was much more! I eventually reached the dock and one of the cabin renters came down to help me carry my gear to my campsite. Very nice of the fellow named Todd to do that! I was happy though as I had two nice walleye to show for my effort! I cleaned them in the rain and froze one.The other I kept out for a Sunday fish fry.

Sunday’s fishing was uneventful and I had no luck. But I enjoyed a wonderful fish fry! Yum! My neighbor Rick invited me to go in his boat up to a place in the lake called Lindros. Retired hockey player Eric Lindros has a fishing camp there. We would also fish a location called Sunnyside. It once was farmland they tell me. Flooded when the dam was built and the water rose to bury the buildings. Pretty wild stuff to consider!

Monday’s trip to Sunnyside was rather uneventful. We couldn’t find the fish on Rick’s high profile fish finders. He has all his favorite locations marked and numbered. It’s rather impressive! Rick managed to catch two small throwback walleye while I caught nothing. Any walleye under 14.5” and over 20.75” must be thrown back . It’s known as the “slot” size. Important to obey as the fines are steep for violating the rules. Anyway we tried and I now was familiar with Sunnyside and Lindros. I decided not to fish Monday night and take a break.

The next day I headed out early and tried out a new spot for walleye. I only got one that was right at 14.5” and I threw it back hoping for a larger one. A move that I would later regret but I was overconfident at that moment. I did not catch anymore after that. That afternoon I trolled for lake trout on an upper section of the lake. I was totally unsuccessful but enjoyed the nice sunny weather! Fishing was proving difficult on the big lake I was learning. Other people were struggling as well to catch walleye and a fellow named Randy said they had lockjaw! He’s a veteran fisherman here and when he’s not catching most likely others aren’t either. It was time for a new strategy!

A sunken snowmobile at an abandoned Squabe camp. ( local name for squatter)

I pulled the boat from the lake Tuesday night and removed the motor and trolling gear. My new friend Bob, his BIL Rick, and I were going to use my boat at a nearby remote lake to try for speckled trout. It was once a hotspot for them. We would use Rick’s electric trolling motor to move around the lake. The day was sunny and calm fortunately. The setup worked well but the trout were sparse. Bob and I both got 13” speckled trout. Bob gave me his. It was a fun outing listening to Rick and Bob share stories about the old days fishing there making large catches. The Canadian government no longer stocks speckled trout in the lake unfortunately. But I learned a new place and a new fishing technique. And the trout was yummy! I ate the smaller of the two.

Headed out for trout.

The next day Bob, BIL Rick, neighbor Rick, and I took two boats to fish nearby Temiscaming Lake. We were headed to a spot called the “volcano”. The tree pollen was everywhere on the surface just like in Lac Kipawa. Some said it was affecting the fishing. Rick and I were in his big boat while Bob and the other Rick were in his. I catch nothing yet again and Rick managed to bag two throwback walleye in our boat. Bob got a feeder and Rick got a really nice 23.5” walleye. Another tough day of fishing for me. But another lake learned.

Pollen in the water of Temiscaming Lake.

Later that evening I drove back to the ZEC Restigo to scout out a new lake for possible fishing. The mosquitoes were horrible! But I reached the lake only to find a camp there. And a questionable bridge to cross as well. I decided to pass on the lake. I saw a cow moose on the way out though! Very cool!

Saturday morning I pulled my ZEC Restigo permit to paddle and fish down the De Jardins River. There was an interesting lake on the map that it flowed through. I packed a lunch and headed out despite the cloudy conditions. The river was running rather strongly and I was going with the current. The bush came right down and actually hung into the water. Tag alders mostly being a water tolerant species. I soon reached a wide swampy area where the Bleu River dumped in. I explored a little of it before moving downstream. There were moose stands on the edges of the bush, a salt lick, and even a camp up on an esker. Signs of people who hunted in the fall here. The river wound through an even larger wetland that became huge. There was no place to get out for a break unless a person wanted to stand on old rotten beaver huts. This was a wild place! Almost spooky in some strange way. I reached the lake I sought but it was nothing but a shallow, weedy place so I turned back. The wind and current made paddling difficult for me. I was disappointed and almost angry with myself for choosing this location. But after a moment I pulled myself together to be grateful for a location for what is actually contains. A thriving wetland that moose must love. Thickly forested bush on the distant ridges. No other people in sight. Just me and Gracie far from camp in a most remote setting. There were ducks and distant singing birds when the wind died down at times. By the time I had reached the point where the Bleu River merged with the De Jardins, I was ready to continue my adventure. I tackled the current up the Bleu, past the camp, and headed towards the sound of a distant set of rapids or waterfall. The river narrowed and the beaver were trying to dam it up. Unsuccessfully at the moment though.

The marshy lake.

Eventually I reached the rapids and could paddle no further. There was no way to portage around either as the bush was super thick. I wedged the canoe into the brush and started fishing. Maybe trout lived here! I soon had a strike but it was a small slinky pike. I kept tossing my lure and managed to catch more small pike. There was a calm eddy right on the edge of the rapids and it looked fishy. I managed to get my lure into it and was rewarded with a strike immediately! The fish turned out to be a 15” walleye! A keeper!

I stayed in the rapids for two hours or so. I caught 6 small pike and the walleye. I was eaten alive by biting black flies and a few deer flies. Mosquitoes also. But I was totally content. I had been in the canoe for hour as there was no good place to land. It was that thick there! I was a little wet from rain as well but didn’t care to put all the rain suit on. I leave the rapids and paddled back to the landing where the truck was parked. I was very tired and super sore. In the rapids by the launch I caught one more tiny pike that I mortally hooked in the gills. I quit fishing then. It was a memorable day and I sadly acknowledged that I probably would never paddle there again.It was just too rugged and there were many new places left to explore.

I ate my 15” walleye that night. I had worked hard to get it! I made a plan for the following day. A new lake and a new adventure. My sprit energy was refreshed and my spirit batteries were recharged. What had I learned? Many things actually. I had learned that this rugged area challenges a person. It is beautiful but harsh at times. Fish just don’t jump into the boat. You must work for them. And I ask myself if I am still tough enough for this sort of thing? I enter the bush full of energy and leave exhausted. Sometimes feeling down by my poor success at catching fish. But perhaps I put too much emphasis on my success in fishing. Am I missing something by doing that? What I am learning is to take the time to be grateful for this experience. This grand experiment that I have undertaken. The people and the places that make it grand. I have learned to catch my breath and smell the scent of sun soaked forest and tan colored water rushing over the rocks. Fish has never tasted so good either. I am strong and capable of making this happen. Someday I may not be so fortunate. Wanting more is not always the best approach. Just being here should be enough. But I do love the thrill of a striking fish tightening my line as it rushes away and the battle begins. That is addictive and thrilling. It is a complex spin I suppose. I have learned to enjoy the complexities of this spins and to let them give me cause to reflect.

So what have I learned? All this and more. I can handle solitude and being far back in the bush where I must depend on myself to get out. I have learned that Gracie the dog is a first rate companion to me and someone to talk to and listen to my profane outbursts at times. She doesn’t even pay much attention really. Selective hearing dog style. I can snap like a brittle twig sometimes. The bugs,the wind, a tangled fishing line, or snagged lure can push me to the limit. But in the end the scenery will quiet me and remind me of why I am here. Perhaps I am learning to slow down a little? Doubting that as I plan my next adventure chugging maple syrup infused coffee each morning. Time will slow my body down.Of this I am most certain but I will resist giving into it. Here I am free to run wild in wild country. It is enough!

Speckled trout.

Life At Camp Sparrow Song

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Happy Canada Day! 🇨🇦 July 1st sure arrived fast! I have spent this entire day playing catch up here at the outpost. I’m calling my base camp at the outpost Camp Sparrow Song. It’s connected to the random arrival of white throated sparrows at the Homestead back in the spring and the one who remained behind singing each morning for a it longer before heading north. I decided to join my bird friends here ultimately. One white throated sparrow greets the daylight here most mornings and the message wasn’t lost on me. Hence the name. I hear them every day here and they always boost my spirit energy.

Things get busy when I am chasing adventures and the campsite can get rather untidy. Not with garbage or anything like that but rather disorganized in a gear sense. Some things had never gotten unpacked since I arrived even. Wow! I sure did bring a lot of gear! But my adventures are rather multi faceted I suppose. And being prepared makes for the best possible experience! Things are flowing rather well as a result I’d have to say. And the details are numerous to say the least. Where to begin?

Getting the Airstream here was just step one of a bigger plan. I still needed my boat and motor here. I rented a boat from the outpost owners on my first two full days here so that I could begin to learn the lake. That was quite the experience unto itself! Kipawa Lake is huge! And while I didn’t get lost out on it, I did have trouble finding the narrows that I wanted to explore for a bit. It was a little intimidating out on the big water in a small boat that I later named “The Cork”. When the wind blows here the waves get big in a hurry! I tried a little fishing for lake trout after rigging up my portable down riggers and auction bargain fish finder. No luck catching trout but I got back into running my old lake trout fishing gear that has sat idle for 20 years give or take. I spotted fish on my sonar at a depth of 70’ mostly but they didn’t bite. I had to take a break from the waves in the afternoon but got out for the evening walleye fish. That proved unproductive as well unfortunately. But I had found the narrows and learned the lake some. It was enough.

The big water.

Sunday would find me out again exploring further up the lake with my rented boat fishing for trout again. Boats were constantly running up the lake to the north past me. Apparently the walleye were biting in a place other campers called Sunnyside. Everyone said that the walleye wouldn’t bite down by the outpost until July and August. Strange to me really. Weren’t there walleye everywhere in the lake? But the boats ran north with a predictability that soon was commonplace. I got no trout that day either and I was the only boat fishing below the narrows for walleye that evening. This was proving interesting! The once elusive narrows was now mapped out in my memory and I had explored quite a big section of lake before heading down closer to the outpost. This place was huge was the revelation!

Trolling for lake trout.

Monday was a rain day and I used it to my advantage to research the ZEC territories. The ZEC’s are controlled harvest, public access areas where permits are required to camp, fish, or hunt. I was curious about one in particular. ZEC Restigo. The closest to my location. I picked up a map from the nearby ZEC office in town and began my research. The ZEC Restigo isn’t entirely unknown to me actually as we have passed through it the past three summers to reach our bush fishing outfitter each August.

Tuesday would bring more rain and I would venture up the wide logging road known as the 819.It starts out paved for a few kilometers then becomes dirt for the duration. It’s a wild ride! Sometimes smooth and other times rippled from traffic. It takes focus not to spin out sometimes as you careen downhill at about 80 kilometers per hour. 48 miles for you non metric folks. I do the math automatically these days in my head as I am too lazy to switch my truck’s dashboard over to metric. It’s easy really! Multiply .6 to the metric speed limit and you have your answer.So 80 kilometers per hour equals 48 miles per hour. Easy right? No one follows the speed limit on the 819 anyway. Crazy drivers will pass you like you are standing still,flinging rocks and dust. Full glass coverage on your vehicle is optional but highly recommended. I love speeding down the 819 to a degree. It’s rather infectious in a dangerous way. And really gives you a true bush driving experience if you are into that sort of thing. Which I am, btw.

The 819.

So I spent the day exploring all sorts of back roads off the 819. Some were decent while others needed occasional grooming. I carry a bow saw and trimmers for just that sort of thing. I learned that 3 years ago. Trees and bushes are often lying across the these little traveled roads. Experience is a great teacher!

The week would continue to be rainy and not great paddling weather. I had brought my canoe and was wanting to use it back country. A nice lady at the ZEC office had mentioned free map downloads of the ZEC territories using the Avenza app. Totally free so I downloaded everything. I also got turned onto the GAIA app. GPS mapping that works even when you don’t have cellular service. Avenza works in a similar fashion. I suddenly became armed with a modern, double edged sword of modern technology in a remote part of Quebec. Always under the satellites that marked my location, I felt secure yet left with a pensive feeling. Not to mention that I was carrying. No, not a gun but something equally powerful. My Iridium 3 satellite phone that’s in my survival gear pack. It could be a game changer in an emergency. I came here to have an adventure not be a statistic. And while I know that I could die out here in a remote place, that wasn’t part of my plan. So the questions begin then. When I wear my blanket of technology am I a true adventurer? I suppose if I am not totally dependent on it. Let me tell you something! If you got lost in this bush, you would be really hard pressed to be having a great time! I love the bush. And I respect its power. It could break the strongest person with ease. And that’s the draw for someone like me. The power of nature outside my norm. Humbled and submissive to the environment. My technology is only as good as my battery supply after all. Chew on that for a moment. I stand humbled before the bush. It could break me like nothing.

The Rivière De Jardins. A future venture.

Armed with my apps, I set off one morning with my canoe intending on paddling somewhere. The places I reached just didn’t feel right for some reason. There were camper villages set up next to the boat launches. Absent of people yet not exactly what I had expected. I kept moving and eventually settled on a quiet river landing near a bridge. We had been there in 2022 when we were hopelessly lost trying to find the way through to reach our outfitter for a fishing trip.What a day and what a story! I told that story in an older blog post.

My river destination was known as the river Pin Blanc. It connects two lakes as it meanders through bush country.On the map it looks tiny. It’s actually much larger. But that’s what I am learning here. Everything is huge! Lakes. Rivers. The bush. Gracie and I set out to explore the Pin Blanc and did some fishing a long the way. I got bites immediately that I soon learned were tiny, voracious northern pike! Slinks or hammer handles we call them back home. I ended up catching five of them eventually. Fun as they are scrappy rascals! And it grew late and the skies were gray and ominous. The bush seemed oppressive then and the water was almost scary suddenly. And I felt small and insignificant in the midst of it all. It was humbling yet empowering in the moment. Thrilling in the intensity of my fragile nature. Nighttime was approaching and I would be miserable if trapped here. The truck was a welcome sight but ironically I was still many kilometers from civilization.

The river Pin Blanc.

It was Thursday night and I needed to return to New York on Friday to grab my boat and take care of business back home. Step one had happened. The Airstream parked and my base camp was established. The realities of the size of this country were just beginning to sink in. Had I made a good decision to come here? It was far too early to say. And there was work to do here still. A big lake to learn. Rules and regulations as well. Was the romantic dream still the same? It’s the kind of thing that can’t be answered overnight. It will take time and living the life to know for sure. Deeds not words some say. My days are measured differently here far from my comfortable surroundings in the St. Lawrence Valley. This country will measure my true resolve of that I have no doubt. Will I hit the “slot” or become a throwback? Time will tell. It is on. ✍️