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. ✍️
It’s almost mid February and there haven’t been any ice walking treks unless you count ice fishing that one day in January.The 9 days I spent volunteering in Saranac Lake recently on the annual ice palace project involved a bunch of ice walking while cutting ice blocks and doing some work up on the walls. That falls under IPW though. Ice palace worker.I suppose I am referring more to actual swamp, pond, and creek type adventures as true ice walking. I haven’t made them happen like some winters past. If you’re confused at this moment about what I am writing about, then I suggest you look up some of my older posts about ice walking. The ice palace also. They’re easy to find and contain plenty of details.
Volunteering for the IPW was pretty predictable again this year with one big exception. We were working with much thicker ice due to the cold weather we have consistently been getting. I worked on the ice cutting crew first thing in the morning just like I have my 5 previous years there. We started out on day 1 cutting 14” thick blocks and by last Monday they were close to 20”! Work started on January 21st and there were 3 days of cancelled work because of extreme cold. It was definitely good weather for working with ice.
The very first cuts of 2026.
I helped work on building the walls for a couple days again this year. Slushing in the blocks to hold them in place mostly but I also helped place blocks too. I call that wall walking. It’s not a bad job but it’s rather physically demanding and a person must really stay focused. Falling off the top of the wall would not be good. It doesn’t take too long for 14” blocks to add height to a wall when you start stacking them up. One of the towers ended up being just over 30’ tall. Much higher than I was comfortable working.
I teamed up with the ice carving team again this year and actually was given more complicated tasks to perform. No carving but I helped create larger pieces of the sculptures by using a chainsaw. I work with them mostly as a laborer actually. Slushing things in place so they freeze in well. Cleaning up debris and keeping the work site organized. A fun activity was working to help create the ice numbers 2026 and going up to place them on top of the wall.
Setting the numbers.
I was also tasked with cutting in access holes through several walls with a large chainsaw. Right up my alley actually so I volunteered for all the chainsaw work I could get. One of the volunteers saw me struggling with a smaller chainsaw and offered me his to try out. It’s a Stihl MS 500I with a 36” bar. A fuel injected monster! It’s powerful yet fairly light. Zane shot a video of me using it.
The Stihl MS 500I.
I really found my niche with the ice carvers this year and I hope to work more with them next year in 2027. They are a great bunch of guys who really seem to appreciate the help. Down on the ice field, working on the cutting crew this year was difficult for me at times. I won’t go into great depth or details about why. That’s not necessary. Let’s just say that it gets a little too intense and negative at times. It stops being fun then. It’s always taken some patience to work on the cutting crew but this year my patience was thin. Unlike the ice!🧊 Moving into next year I may reconsider my position as one of the volunteer cutters and put more time into assisting the ice carvers. Call it a gut feeling. A sixth sense revelation that maybe it’s time to branch out in a new direction.
My friend Patrick Bourcy showed up for 2 days to volunteer. Zane was there one of those days too. He joined the spudding crew on the ice field helping to free the ice blocks from the cut grid of the main mass. He had an incident down on the ice field also. I guess us Washburn boys from the valley are troublemakers! 😂 In the end everything worked out and we all had a great day. That’s what matters!
Patrick, me, and Zane working with the ice carvers.
So as you might imagine, some time has passed productively this winter despite the frigid weather. I have kept cutting wood but that’s recently gotten difficult as the snow continues to add up. Things slow down in winter. That’s a given. Everything gets a little more difficult when it comes to outdoor type work. But with some perseverance, a person can keep moving forward. Some days very little gets accomplished. Other days are better. I find it best not to take tasks too seriously these days. Keeping firewood coming in is always a good use of time in the winter when it’s possible. I actually use quite a bit of wood to heat the Homestead cabin when I stay there. I banked the cabin with snow last week to help keep it warmer. It seemed to help.
Winter firewood on the plowed off landing.
I’m watching the calendar closely now. It’s almost time to seriously consider maple syrup season again. So a couple of ice walking adventures need to be considered if they are going to even happen. The annual trip to the ice falls really needs to be given a date. Why the hesitation you might wonder? That’s a great question with a great answer! The thaws in December and January did not result in great ice if what I can see of the swamp from the road is a good indication. I can see some open spots still.
We got a bunch of snow before things froze up well after the thaws had made some high water in the gorge. I had hoped for a deep freeze ahead of the snow but it never happened. And I know that all that deep snow on that swamp will make for some tricky trekking with snowshoes. Thus the hesitation. But time is of the essence. And I am ready to take a chance out there on the right day!
The February Homestead.
One thing is for certain at this point. It’s going to take some energy wearing snowshoes to reach the ice falls and even more if we go up to the Black Ash Swamp above them. But I am hoping that we can make that happen very soon. There’s nothing like a trip down the gorge of Beaver Creek to charge up the spirit batteries. It’s always worth the effort. And it’s great if you can manage to stay dry! 😂✍️
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! ✍️
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. ✍️
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) ✍️
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.✍️
Here I go again jumping around and skipping blocks of time like a Star Wars movie. There’s so many stories backed up now that I barely know where to begin. But writing “backed up” reminded me of my most recent adventure here. I think I need to supply some better background information. This story truly began back on June 29th. In one of my past posts I mentioned a “new lake and a new adventure” while writing of my experiences on the Rivière De Jardins on Saturday June 28th.On Sunday June 29th I ventured back up into ZEC Restigo to explore a pair of lakes. Lac Charette and Lac Sairs are their names. This story will take some to tell.
On June 29th after traveling the dirt roads of the back bush country for the second time in two days, I arrived at the launch at Lac Charette. There were other vehicles there with empty boat trailers and other random vehicles as well. Something was obviously of interest to people given the number of vehicles.My guess was good fishing. Gracie and I set off across the rather calm lake and did a little fishing on the far shore. I bagged a couple small pike right off the bat. Surprising as it was almost noon and rather hot. Not ideal conditions for catching pike. I noticed that there were two big beaver huts along the shore. One was massive. Beaver were obviously plentiful here. Normal for Quebec it seems.
Lac Charette
Our destination was the outlet of Lac Charette. Paddling down it would bring us to our main destination:Lac Sairs. Brennan Lake in English. As Gracie and I entered the outlet of the lake it was obvious that the beaver were busy trying to dam it up. But why? They had the entire deep lake at their disposal. Why a dam? Interesting creatures these beaver! A narrow,open breach allowed us to pass easily over the dam in some fast moving water. Down the windy creek towards Lac Sairs we passed through a couple of other beaver dams. Easy going and not a problem. But the beaver had been interested in taming the creek over the years. Given the amount of water flowing down the creek it was a difficult task for them. Good for us though that they couldn’t block the creek. Crossing beaver dams can be a pain!
We eventually reached Lac Sairs and the size of it was rather intimidating! There were some waves but nothing we couldn’t handle as we set off for an island to the east of us. Lac Sairs was very sandy with several beaches exposed on the wooded shorelines.Snag free fishing with a sandy bottom I surmised. Nice! A boat with a small motor suddenly came out of the creek and passed us with two older fellows in it. We waved at each other.They headed over to a spot, anchored, and began fishing. They obviously knew what they were doing I decided. I made a mental note of their location. Easy, as they were near the mouth of the Kipawa River where it enters the lake. They obviously knew something about the lake.
We found the island , we had first spotted after exiting the creek, unoccupied and explored some of it. Obviously well used as a camp site by lots of people. There were the usual things you find at a well worn site: Nails driven into sap bleeding pine trees. Axe hacked trees and stumps of those that had been felled. A crusty fire ring with burnt beer cans and cigarette butts scattered about. Tent rope tied between trees for clothes lines. There were an assortment of old metal grills hanging from nails on one big pine tree. Yes this site had seen a lot of use! A couple of old plastic buckets sat below a fish cleaning station someone had built. Pretty typical really. It was a beautiful location though! Sandy beaches on both sides with shallow water access for watercraft. I could see why it was so popular. But I knew firewood would be scarce at such a location and made a mental note of it.
The island campsite on Lac Sairs.
Gracie and I hung out on the island for a time before trying our luck fishing near it but we had no luck. We could see a group of campers far down the lake on another sandy point. The lower part of the lake was huge and not very inviting for canoeing. I was a little nervous about the return trip across the big part of the lake in the rising wind and waves so we headed back to the creek inlet and fished there while. The older fellows passed us again and headed back up the creek. I thought it strange that they left so quickly after only fishing for an hour or so. Could they have limited out that quickly? Perhaps. It does happen. They had obviously targeted a certain spot and had never moved off it. Interesting! As for me? All I had caught on Lac Sairs was another small pike.
As Gracie and I paddled back up the creek two more boats passed us. Something was definitely happening on Lac Sairs! People were working fairly hard to get boats towed into Lac Charette to access Lac Sairs. Given the rough roads it must indicate good fishing! The bugs were a little annoying but bearable out in the sun. The bugs didn’t seem to be deterring people from coming here. All this was rather perplexing and I began to think about returning to Lac Sairs. But when and how? I could never pound my boat and trailer over those rough roads for a few walleye! And the canoe was rather small for large Lac Sairs. What to do? I decided to mull over it later once I could better concentrate on the subject in the comfort of the truck on the drive back to Camp Sparrow Song. Home base would provide better access to the internet and maps.
Gracie and I fished more on Lac Charette once we exited the creek. I had a fish on that looked like a walleye but it threw the hooks before I could get it to the canoe. Further up the lake there was some fast moving water below a beaver dam that was entering the lake. The waves were bad out on the lake so we fished below the beaver dam in the rushing water. I caught 5 more small pike and they were pretty scrappy in the fast moving inlet. Fun times! But no walleye were caught that afternoon. I left the lake a little frustrated but happy to have caught and released 7 pike. It would have to do!
Below the beaver dam. Denied easy access to what lies beyond.
So that’s a detailed description of the Lac Charette to Lac Sairs probe adventure. I later spent a lot of time considering options for a return trip and how would I do it. A small boat would be ideal. Smaller than my 14’ Alumacraft and with a smaller motor. But time passed and I came no closer to solving the logistics of getting any boat into Lac Sairs. But then I got to thinking about canoe camping there as one final adventure before I leaving Quebec in the fall. Remember my post about the failed hike into Turner Falls? The Forgotten Path post. What if? What if I paddled to Lac Sairs and set up camp near the river? Turner Falls is upstream past a lower set of rapids that can be portaged I had read. I could manage that expedition right? And possibly seek out some walleye while I was there. So the plan began before I even returned from taking my boat home recently. I returned to Quebec last Tuesday after one week home. The weather was promising and moose hunting season hadn’t begun yet. There was still time to make a Lac Sairs expedition happen!
Wednesday morning I got packed quickly and got ready for canoe camping on Lac Sairs. I packed plenty of food and warm clothing. I even found room for my portable fish finder! Talk about priorities! I pulled my ZEC permits Wednesday afternoon and off we went up the “819” bound for Lac Charette once more. Traffic was light but I met a log truck with its huge billowing clouds of dust. Wow! I pulled over till it passed. BTW. They have the right of way.
The “819” is very familiar to me now and I cruise it fairly fast. After the turn at kilometer 38 the next 10 kilometers are washboarded bad! The truck jitters all over the place. So I slow way down. The final stretch to the launch is ok but slow going. Haste makes waste the old saying goes. The truck is the only way out so I protect it from damage. Common sense is beneficial in the back bush country.
Loaded up at the Lac Charette launch.
At the launch I quickly unloaded the canoe, carefully packed it, and parked the truck. Off we went across the very calm lake. We were pretty heavy but very stable. This was going to be easy! But I was wrong about that! As we neared the outlet to the lake where the creek started a pair of otters dove off shore and surfaced nearby watching us. Very cool! Things looked rather tricky at the formerly breached beaver dam that we had floated over in late June. Two large piles of sticks lay on either side of the former breach. People had been pulling out the dam over the summer to get their boats through but the beaver were winning now. This was a bit of a dilemma for Gracie and I with our heavily laden canoe.
Beaver dam!
I managed to slide the canoe over the dam with a great deal of effort and some tricky balancing. Gracie never budged so I had her 80 plus pounds to lug also. But we made it! I noticed right away the level of the creek. It was super low and much different than it had been in late June. But it was passable at least, lucky for us. That is until we hit the next beaver dam. It was an old one fortunately and mostly flat but I still had to wrestle the canoe across. Quite the workout! Almost more than I could handle alone! Those damn pesky beaver I thought!
We encountered one more old beaver dam in the creek but managed to just scoot over it. Eventually we reached Lac Sairs and were greeted by a very altered shoreline. The water was rather low. The formerly submerged sand bars and beaches had grown to larger proportions. There was the odor of wet vegetation that had been exposed to the air and sunlight. A very different lake now existed. It was obvious that the water was dropping almost daily.But the lake was still massive at any rate.
There were no big waves so we fast tracked directly to the island we had visited in late June. No one was there so we claimed the campsite and got camp set up. Step one was complete! I found a nice flat spot for the tent.There was a picnic table also that hadn’t been there in late June. I had brought a folding chair which I planned to put to good use.
It was time to explore after a quick search for firewood. Firewood was in short supply after months of people camping on the island. Toilet paper clumps weren’t scarce though. They dotted the shoreline and were all through the woods. It was obvious that a big rain storm had recently scoured the island. A grand flushing of sorts that I was thankful had happened.Human waste is disgusting to camp near. Yuck!🤢
TP island.
I named the island “TP Island” after that. Not to be confused with Teepee. There’s a big difference. I set out cleaning up the campsite by starting a garbage bag. People had disrespected the island I’m sorry to say. I found a bucket with several rotten fish in it with a collection of bones. Pretty gross and I dumped the mess far away from the campsite. Yuck! 🤢
As for firewood? Lucky for me there was old dry driftwood hidden in the brush left by the higher waters of spring. How people had missed it all summer is beyond me but I managed to collect enough of it for the evening fire that I hoped to enjoy. I also found some nice pine resin wood that I cut off an old dry stump. A bonanza on the wood depleted island. I would manage I decided. I also found some hollow birch bark logs that I salvaged for tinder. All was well in the firewood department. But only for one night. Hardwood was difficult to find but I did find some to use for cooking. Provided that I caught a walleye or two!
I got my fishing poles ready and set up the fish finder. My goal was to reach the lower rapids in the Kipawa River. Not too far a paddle from the campsite I soon learned. At the time I couldn’t hear the rapids because of the direction of the wind. We left the campsite beach much lighter with the gear now on shore and paddled to the entrance of the river. It started out slow moving and was very dark. Only about 12’ deep on average. I passed a dry beaver house sitting up on the bank. They were beginning to work on it for winter and had collected some green brush to start their winter feed pile. But if the water didn’t come back up it was going to be rather tough for them. Did they know something? Was this a normal occurrence or unusual drought situation? Quebec had been getting some rainfall but nothing drastic. The beaver might need to make some housing adjustments if the water stayed low.
There was a huge landslide of trees and logs that had slide into the edge of the river. Continued erosion of the sandy banks it appeared from the high waters of spring no doubt. Ice out must be wild here I mused.
Water certainly is a powerful force and it’s evident in the piles of debris and sunken logs that lay under the surface of the river. I watched for sunken “sleepers” that could potentially tip us over. Always a possibility. Sunken logs can be rather creepy at times I find.
I rounded a weedy curve and thought it looked fishy. I tossed a Mepps Aglia and caught a small pike next to shore. Further up a huge lagoon sat below a tall sand bank. Obviously eroded by years of high water. It was eerily unstable looking almost. No place I wanted to climb around that’s for sure. The whole location was spooky for some reason. I had another small pike poke at my lure near the lagoon next to a heavy weed bed but it lost interest.I ended up just below the rapids but due to the low water they were fairly tame. I fished around in sections of them but only caught one more small pike. There were plentiful snags in the rocks and I soon tired of the location. I made a note of the portage trail below the rapids. Thursday’s planned excursion.I floated down to the curve of the lagoon. It was an impressive 30’ deep in spots. Some fish showed on the sonar near bottom but they didn’t bite. I decided to get back to the big lake and try my luck there. The lagoon made me nervous for some unknown reason. I was happier away from it.
The rapids. Turner Falls lies somewhere upstream.
Down where the river enters the lake, I encountered a most unexpected and unusual thing. In line with TP Island a sandbar practically blocks the flow of water! A narrow rift exists that is only about 8” deep and is fast moving. A person could literally walk across the lake here! I named the main section “ The Rift” and quickly realized that good fishing might lay just off a drop off where the big lake widens out more. I tossed a worm covered jig head behind me as the inches deep water changed rapidly to eventually 30’. My line got heavy and tight suddenly. I reeled up and was rewarded with a fighting fish! I soon netted a nicely colored, legal 16” walleye! Dinner was secured! Soon after I had another fish on and it was a fighter! But it was a medium sized pike that I released after a feisty battle. After that the bite died and I fought the wind and small waves in the rift current until I tired of fishing in it. The Rift showed potential and I was glad to have noticed it.
Back at camp I cleaned the walleye and started my fire. Once I had enough coals I lightly battered it and cooked it up. Yummy! Picture perfect as darkness overtook the campsite. Golden, crunchy goodness that only the taste of walleye can deliver. I sat by the fire until I ran out of firewood after feeding Gracie. She enjoyed one small piece of fish that I was too stuffed to eat. One walleye was all we had needed.
Cooking walleye.
And that’s how the day ended. Warm and fed. The tent nearby with my sleeping bag ready to go. No air mattress though. That was hard. Literally. But my sleeping bag is rated for 20 degrees Fahrenheit. I would manage. Loons called and the wind flickered fire danced on the tent wall. My day was complete. I had called home on my satellite phone. All was well! The adventure was well underway and time was passing. But I was still rather irritated at the beaver because of the dams. I felt more connected to the otters I had seen in that moment. Quite a difference for me the lover of all things beaver. But otters? Yes! Fishing and eating fish! Roaming and frolicking a long the lakes and creeks. Carefree and happy not burdened by building dams and industrious tasks. Was I more like the otters in my moment? Yes!
But I still respected the beaver for what they bring to nature. One splashed near the canoe just as I was dozing off. Ok beaver I thought. Now I am irritated again. But it was of little concern. I was the invader of their world actually. What right did I have to be irritated? Perhaps they were irritated at me! 🤣
Sleep came slowly in my new surroundings but not because I am afraid to sleep in the bush. I sleep with two knives and an axe. I’ll come awake ready carve a fillet off anything that invades my personal space. That’s the mindset anyway. I was overexcited I suppose. Over stimulated by the location and the experience. But the calling loons eventually serenaded me off to sleep as they answered each other around the lake. Gracie was lying close by outside the tent. All was well and tomorrow was another day. No rain and no bugs! What more could a camper wish for than this? ✍️
Blogging certainly hasn’t been on my list of priorities lately! I went home in July after never really telling the whole story of what’s gone on. But life moves fast it seems. I returned home on July 18th without ever really updating my adventures here. I suppose I will tell the stories in a Star Wars movie episode fashion. Forward, backwards, and all over the place. What may truly matter in the end is telling the stories at all. My photo gallery serves as proof of days lived and memories made. Time and task. I am thankful for that! For writing often must take the backseat as I push forward. Never what I intend but a constant. This has been a rather full summer. Many miles traveled. Here and back home. And those that connected the dots of a roving me. So we must fast forward to the present. No longer July but well into August. So very much has transpired and the world moved on whether I told my stories or not. I am small and humbled in that realization.
A portion of July back home.
Let’s fast forward past my time back home in July into August. I returned here to Camp Sparrow Song August 12th. I had been home about 3 weeks. Upon returning I set out to fish the big lake here again but it was rather tough for me. Wind and waves were a problem. I decided to fish a set of rapids below a dam close to here last week on Thursday. I was tired of my struggles on the big lake and needed a break. I had good luck and my confidence was renewed. So much that I decided to pack up my canoe and camping gear for a couple days away. There was a big music festival in town close by and I really didn’t want to be part of it. So off to the ZEC Restigo Gracie and I went Friday afternoon. I chose a remote lake that we had paddled back in July. Lac Goeland. The two days I spent there are worthy of their own story. Camping out of the truck in a tent and fishing were the main activities. Solitude on my first ever camping trip in the bush in a tent.
Since my return I have fished with a couple neighbors and have enjoyed some success. Yes you guessed it! Another story! Today I decided a hike was in order for a change. I have been curious about a set of rapids in the Kipawa River near Brennan Lake. Brennan Lake is a rather large lake within the ZEC Restigo boundaries. I had paddled Brennan Lake back in July but didn’t get to explore the river. I have wanted to see the rapids as they are listed as a point of interest on the ZEC Restigo map. A roughly 5Km trail leads to you to the falls according to the map. Sounds easy right? Sure it’s 6 miles round trip but that’s doable. The weather was good for hiking. Mid 70’s and somewhat cloudy. Plus the bugs haven’t been bad lately. So it was on once I secured my ZEC permit at the office where Highway 819 begins just outside of town here.
Mapping it out.
There wasn’t a wealth of information on the trailhead but I found something after Goggling it. And after my time here I was tuned in to the landmarks they mentioned. So up the 819 I went around 11am. It took me awhile to get to where the trailhead was supposed to be. It appeared to be off an old logging road that I found without too much trouble. The logging road was dry and pretty brush free. Not something that I encounter here when I explore. But after heading down the logging road I found no trailhead. I studied my map and phone app. My GAIA app is indispensable in the back bush. It shows my GPS location at all times. No cellular phone service needed. But where was the trailhead? No markers. No signs. Nothing.
There was however, an old beat up travel trailer sitting in a small clearing with a possible trail behind it. I guessed it a simple hunting trail when I first scouted it. It was rather overgrown and couldn’t possibly be the trail that was marked on the ZEC map. I drove back and forth searching for the trail with no luck. I finally decided to follow the trail behind the beat up travel trailer sitting in the clearing. I guessed that I was on a wild goose chase just following some moose hunters trail. But I was out of options and I had pounded dusty, rough roads to get to my destination. I wasn’t ready to quit that easy.
Easy street? Blaze away. It’s the way out.
Once I started down the trail behind the old camper I decided that I was in the right place after all . I was obviously following an old logging road. It was molded and leveled. No question about it then but it was pretty overgrown. However, someone had taken time to cut some of the hanging brush back with a chainsaw. I was carrying an axe and began laying tree blazes behind me. Something I had read about years ago from back bush trappers. I also found pieces of survey ribbon laying around. I stuck some in my pocket and marked the trail occasionally. Getting lost here would be very bad!
Blazing it in.
The trail was pretty rough walking but ok. There were plenty of overhanging tag alders choking the trail. I broke off smaller ones leaving an obvious trail behind me. I also turned around and studied the terrain behind me. Always a good idea. I kept hanging survey ribbon pieces in strategic locations. I wanted a clear path out! Some sections were nice walking. Rather open but others were tough with waist plus berry bushes choking the path. But I was ok. I got to thinking that everything was good. The old logging road was obvious. No getting lost while following its signature through the bush. The bush is very alive and thriving. Noteworthy.
I reached a beaver meadow. Once the site of a huge pond it appeared. The berry bushes and jewel weeds were unbelievably high. And the bugs found me then. Deer flies and mosquitoes liking my sweat and heavy breathing as I soldiered through. I began to question the adventure then. This was ok but 3 miles of it? I was expending lots of energy. Gracie too. I lost her for a moment suddenly. She wasn’t behind me and couldn’t hear her. I yelled and became very worried when there was no sound. Losing her here would be very bad. But suddenly I heard her rustling through the dense berry bushes. This was becoming a bit hellish. My shirt was soaked with sweat and my legs were getting scratched bad. Shorts had seemed like a good choice. Not so much now I mused.
And then the unexpected happened. While wading through waist high berry bushes the ground below my feet disappeared and I tumbled forward. The old logging road had washed out and there was a huge gulley. I survived my tumble intact but suddenly realized that this was a less to be desired trail. No one had been through it in sometime. I guess it’s not a popular destination reaching the falls.
After my fall I found my way out to the open space of the former beaver pond. Vegetation was lighter there so it was easier walking until I hit a muddy section. Gracie took a dip in a weedy pool. She was struggling and I could tell. Old age has its disadvantages I suppose. There were moose tracks in the mud and I had seen moose droppings along the trail. They were smart. Taking the path of least resistance. They don’t worry about getting lost I suppose.
After the beaver damaged section the trail played out. The chainsaw and axe wielding trail stewards had given up it appeared. The trail just stopped. Yes the old logging continued but it was so overwhelmingly overgrown that it was pure folly to keep following it. I was hot and scratched up from the berry bushes. It was a defining moment. Persist and push forward? Reality ruled the day. Based on my GPS app, I had only covered about one mile of a three mile hike. To continue would be ill advised. Common sense kicked in despite my disappointment of failing my objective. It wasn’t easy to do in some ways. But there was a sense of relief in the concession. This was no place to mess around.
The best parts of the trail.
I was disappointed to not make it to the Turner Falls. But the maps had indicated a trail. I had counted on a herd path. Who knew? And I certainly gained more respect for the bush. It is hellbent to return to its natural state. And I respect the power that lives there. I’m weak in the face of that power. Frail and vulnerable. And there’s a lesson there that I thought I had learned. But the lands of the valley where I have spent most of my life are very different. The Quebec bush is a much different place. So tonight I count my good fortune and wear my scratches with a certain sense of pride. I earned them today. They will heal and my internal turmoil heals in the doing of such adventures. I wouldn’t have it any other way I suppose. And BTW. Maybe reaching the Turner Chute, aka the Turner Falls by water might not be such a bad idea. I am a stubborn one at times. And I had reasons for torturing myself today. That’s all on me. It’s what I wanted. And I got what I wanted. The universe spins in mysterious ways.✍️
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!
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. ✍️
