Tuesday 13th September

Tuesday 13th September

 

Kakabeka Falls

Kakabeka Falls

 

Cheryl, Alaine, Leonie and Dan at Kakabeka Falls

 

 

 

Monday 12th September

Monday 12th September

We are well behind schedule and there was no way we would now get to the end of Lake Superior in the time we had left, but we still had about 10 days of paddling to do before we have to make our way to the big cities and eventually home.

Everyone we have met so far has commented on how deadly Lake Superior was and how cold the water was and how rough it gets and how the weather can change seasons 5 times in one day without warning. Paddling to the north pole might have got less negativity. Hearing all the negative comments didn’t help Alaine to feel safe on the lake. She in fact was feeling pretty paranoid about paddling on it, especially the big 22 km crossing from Thunder Bay to the Sleeping Giant, so we needed to hear some good stories about the lake to ease her mind, but in reality, I now didn’t think anything could do that!

With the weather changing with every minute and a gale warning out for the lake for the next 4 days it wasn’t looking very good for kayaking across to the Sleeping Giant. We were reminded that it was the middle of September and gales are common this time of year. The lake creates its own weather pattern, people said. We were also told the lake is rarely as calm as what we experienced on Friday, so be concerned. Of course I have heard all these types of comments before, when I have tackled other lakes, rivers and oceans and I am experienced enough to know they are at times right, but with time, experience and common sense most conditions can be by-passed or conquered. We just needed the right conditions to give it a go.

Dan drove into town for a chiropractor appointment. He dropped Alaine and I off in the centre but took Leo with him, who also wanted to see a chiropractor. The kayak shop wasn’t open so we walked to MacDonalds to have a coffee while we waited for them to open up at 10.00am.

When Leo and Dan arrived at the kayak shop the girls seemed to spend up big. We only had 10 days of paddling left, so I couldn’t imagine why they were spending so much.

I bought some maps, but they didn’t have them all so Dan drove us to another kayak shop to see if they had them. We met Bill Ostrom who made a lot of the packs that he sold in his kayak shop. Bill had spent the long weekend making a new portage trail between two lakes north-west of Thunder Bay.

Next door to the kayak shop was the Persian donut shop. Dan took us in to try the locally made Persians that the Thunder Bay people seemed proud of and enjoyed immensely. They were similar to a donut/cinnamon bun that you would find in Australia and we enjoyed them.

We still hadn’t found all the freeze dried food we needed so Dan drove us to an outdoor store and then later dropped the girls off at a supermarket. We drove to the Air Rescue hanger at the airport to see if a parcel that was sent there for me had arrived. Dan was very involved with the Air Rescue Unit, so he showed me around the hanger, their rescue plane and offices while we were there.

We met up with the girls a little later, bought some beer and wine and drove home. The skies were amazingly black. A huge cloud engulfed the city as if a large spaceship was going to swallow it up. The weather didn’t look good for the start of our journey to the Sleeping Giant.

A black cloud sweets across the city. The weather for Thunder Bay was not good. Gale warnings were forecast for the next few days.

We were far from prepared to go the following day so we decided to take it easy that evening and be prepared to leave on Wednesday.

For dinner Leo prepared the nibbles and Alaine prepared a pasta dish.

Later two of Dan’s friends, Chris and Chris, who Dan dives and plays underwater hockey with came around to meet us and chat. They both paddle and know quite a bit about the lake. Chris the artist gave us a small book on the Pukaskwa National Park and the first page Alaine turned to said: Remember, Lake Superior kills quickly. Sadly, not the positive reinforcement I was hoping she would hear.

Conversation with the Chris’s also reflected around the dangers of the lake. By the end of the night Alaine had heard one too many bad stories about the lake.

As Chris left, he said we could leave our kayaks in his container until we sold them or wanted them which was very generous of him.

Sunday 11th September

Sunday 11th September

Cheryl cooked us eggs Benedict. We had a leisurely breakfast and talked heaps. Well, I think the girls did most of the talking. We weren’t in any hurry, but we had to ring the customs and tell them that we had landed. It was too late to do it yesterday, so we thought we would do it today.

Dan drove us back to Kenny’s place where I contacted the customs and asked them if we could get Dan to drive us to the city customs post to save us having to paddle the 13 kilometres into town. The customs man on the end of the phone wasn’t at all receptive to that idea, he said we had to go to the marina in town which is a designated spot for in-coming vessels that have come in from the US. He didn’t seem to want to compromise, so although we didn’t really want to donn our kayaking gear, we had no choice!

We were keen to see Fort William so with Cheryl off work Dan was planning to take us today, but the last tour was at 4.00pm and it was already 1.00pm and we hadn’t started paddling. It was 13 kilometres to the marina, which meant it was going to be a two-hour paddle to get there, so we would be pushing for time.

The first part of the paddle the wind was helping us along, then as soon as we got around the first groyne the wind changed, the lake became rougher and it was a bit harder to gain some kilometres. We could see the city although we couldn’t see our destination at that point.

Leonie heading into Thunder Bay

We crossed over the bay passing 3 entrances to the Mission River. A sea rescue boat and two jet skis sped by bumping up and down against the choppy waves. The chimney that we had been seeing for miles was now behind us. It was part of a factory. Grain silos were ahead and others were further across the bay. Two relatively  big ships were anchored at the first set of silos.

Passing the first lot of silos. Big ships use the lake.

Despite the wind being slightly against us we were making good time and arrived at the marina just as several yachts that were racing,  crossed the finishing line. It took us 1 hour 50 minutes.

The Thunder Bay Marina.

Just after we pulled in and I had climbed the bank to find out how to contact the customs, Dan and Cheryl arrived. I rang the customs number and the man on the phone asked me a few questions, – do you have liquor, are you carrying drugs, what is the serial number of your kayak, what colour is it etc. He then wanted Alaine’s details and soon after said we were cleared and we could go. I told him that Leo was also there, but he said she had to ring in after I had put the phone down. That seemed a bit ridiculous but that’s what he wanted. Within a few minutes Leo was also cleared. We just couldn’t understand why we couldn’t have done that back at Kenny’s place, but I suppose it all had to be official.

Alaine paddling the kayak to the boat ramp.

By the time the two kayaks were loaded on Dan’s car it was 3.30pm so we had 30 minutes to get to Fort William. We arrived there with 4 minutes to spare but by the time we had paid and joined the tour, it had started. The tour guide was very good, although he did go on a bit, but we learnt a lot about the voyageurs, their way of life, the fort, canoe building and lots more. It was well worth joining the tour and it made us appreciate even more how difficult the life of a voyageur was.

Part of Fort William

Trying on a hat made of a Beaver Pelt at Fort William.

Looking around the canoe building shed. All the canoes were made from natural materials.

A canoe used by the Voyageurs were made from natural materials.

For dinner we treated Dan and Cheryl to dinner at a Steakhouse. It was certainly good food and very good service.

Alaine, Cheryl, Dan and Leonie. Dan and Cheryl looked after us in Thunder Bay.

 

Saturday 10th September

Saturday 10th September

For some reason we all thought it was Sunday when it was actually Saturday. We would be reaching Thunder Bay in the afternoon but I think I told Dan, when we were at Grand Portage that we would be there on Sunday in two days time. I was concerned he might be thinking we were arriving tomorrow so I sent him an email, as we could get reception on the island. There was a little mist in the bay but it cleared quickly. The sun shine helped to dry our tents that were spread over the rock to dry.

Drying our tents after a damp night

At 10.30am we started crossing the bay from Spar Island and there was some amazing scenery both on the mainland and also the islands. There were cliffs just about every where we looked. Small clusters of houses were now also nestled beneath the cliffs on the mainland. It was hard to see at our point how people were able to get to their houses as the terrain around them looked extremely rugged.

The lake was just stunning.

At Flatland Island, the very last island before Thunder Bay we decided to have an early lunch. We also needed a rest as looking and admiring the stunning scenery in every direction was quite draining!! Even at lunch, although we were on the flattest island around, we had an amazing view of a cliff on the mainland. It was at lunch we realised that we had crossed the border and had stepped into another time zone and in fact were now going to be one hour late in arriving. I sent Dan another email.

Another lunch, another fine view.

A tall chimney way ahead indicated the whereabouts of Thunder Bay. We passed by the tiny Bonnet Island where it shallowed and we spotted a big fish below us. The water was so clear but the lake bottom was only rock or sand and sometimes weedy in the shallows. There didn’t seem to be any coral or anything colourful down there. Unlike the ocean there was limited marine life so it felt a little more sterile than the ocean. That though didn’t detract from the enormity and beauty of the lake.

Leonie enjoying the calm conditions

Being a little behind time we stepped up the pace. The cliffy Pie Island over to our right was a little lost in the heat haze but it was still a spectacular sight. With all its cliffs it looked as if it was a great island to paddle around. Unfortunately we didn’t have time to do it, we will leave that to the local kayakers.

Leo with Pie Island in the background

A few yachts were sailing along the north-western side of the island. Our eyes drifted back and forth looking ahead and then across to Pie Island to watch the yachts. Beyond Pie there was another giant of a high cliffy range they call the Sleeping Giant. Our next leg was from Thunder Bay around the Sleeping Giant. If we hadn’t been going into Thunder Bay we would have gone from the tip of Pie Island straight to the Sleeping Giant as it was a lot closer.

Dan was going to meet us at a sandy beach in the Chippewa Park which was about 10kms before the main town. We were getting closer and it looked as if we were only 15 minutes behind schedule. We rounded two square points close to Chippewa Park and sighted a beach on Sandy Beach Road. It didn’t look like the park beach but there were several people sun bathing and even one or two people in the water, mainly children. We headed towards the beach just in case that was the one that Dan meant but within 500 metres I spotted someone on the point ahead waving their jumper. It didn’t quite look like Dan but whoever it was, was trying hard to attract our attention. We instantly changed direction and headed for the waving hand.

The waving hand wasn’t Dan but a lady who Alaine thought was Cheryl. She didn’t look like Cheryl to me but then again I have been wrong and when it comes to remembering names and faces Alaine is always better than me. Not this time though as the lady turned out being Dan’s brother’s wife, Hely.

We were expecting to land on a beach but instead we landed at Dan’s brother’s summer house. Dan, Kenny and Hely stood on the front lawn as we negotiated around a few boulders before hitting their boulder beach which was protected by a rock groyne.

It didn’t take long to get to know Kenny and Hely who were staying at their summer house for the weekend and said we could leave our boats there for as long as we wanted. We had a drink and a chat but we had to get going as Dan had a Voluntary Air Rescue meeting at 6.00pm.

We left some of our gear at the house and loaded all our necessary things into Dan’ car. Within 15 minutes we were at Dan’s home and meeting his wife Cheryl. It wasn’t long before Dan was off to his meeting. Cheryl made us very welcome. When I met Dan and Cheryl there was only me, but now there was three of us, but that didn’t seem to matter, Cheryl soon had us sitting outside on the patio serving us hamburgers and salad. We chatted for a long time. Leo soon felt at home when Cheryl said she enjoyed a drop of wine. Leo had a drinking partner.

Friday 9th September

Friday 9th September

The sunrise was blood red again. We had breakfast in the room to save time and to help us get off earlier. When we had packed we grabbed the kayaks and pulled them across to the beach. It would be the last time we would have to carry a pack on our backs and tow the kayak.

Paddling the big lake was going to be a new experience. The conditions however were calm so we were in for a good start. Two people came over to talk to us as we loaded.

We paddled across the bay to Portage Island which had low rusty coloured cliffs at the end of it. After paddling around the first mainland point we could see the highway in the distance. There were cliffs and high hills on the surrounding mainland which were stunning although when we reached the nearby islands they were even better.

We briefly stopped on an island with a mixture of coloured rock with a slanting rock face and mountain ash trees which were loaded with red berries. The black layered slab that we landed on was slippery but a short walked along the island was well worth it, it was amazingly beautiful.

Beautiful rock, beautiful Island.

We left the islands for a while and crossed over to Pigeon Point. A power boat was fishing and moving slowly along the cliff. It was lunch time so we made for a boulder beach. Luckily there was no wind and we were able to pull in next to a huge rock in calm water and anchor the kayaks. There were several mountain ash trees displaying their canopy of red berries. I climbed a cliff behind and was able to see for miles across and down the lake.

Lunch on a bouldery beach near Pigeon Point, Lake Superior

Once around Pigeon Point we could see the bay where the Pigeon River entered the lake and where the US and Canadian customs were located. We were now crossing the border into Canada. We were thankful that we didn’t have to paddle to the customs post as it was several kilometres from our location and we would have to detour several kilometres. Again the scenery surrounding us was stunning.

As we reached another set of islands we could see paddlers in the distance. First there was one, then two, then four. We hadn’t really seen any real kayakers on our journey so we were excited to meet some lake expeditioners. It is always good to meet other kayakers so we made a beeline for them.

It was great to meet other kayakers

I noticed three of the paddlers were using Greenland type paddles which are usually made of timber and have no offset. There is certainly a growing trend amongst some sea kayakers in using theses type of paddles. The paddlers using them usually swear by them and love paddling with them. I haven’t used one but somehow I don’t think I would swap my Werner or Epic wing paddle for one. Well not at the moment at least.

Dave Olson reached us first. He seemed to be the leader of the group and what I gathered, he was a bit of a kayaking guru who knew a lot about the lake and who has a web site called; The Lake is the Boss.
We chatted and instantly we felt as if they were friends that we hadn’t seen for a while. When you have something in common there is usually a bond.

One of the other paddlers Rick Hoffman had paddled just about all the way around Lake Superior in weekly trips, doing two weeks a year. I think he said he started in 2004 and he doesn’t have far to go before he completes it all. His favorite spot was the section between Marathon and Wawa, the Pukaskwa Nation Park. Our trip this year won’t quite reach that section but I’m looking forward to paddling it another year.

On Dave’s website the two other paddlers on that trip were Ranger Mark and Bad Hatter. I’m sure they did tell me their names but being as old as I am I will excuse myself for forgetting. They bonded with us straight away and we were joking and having laughs with us. We only spent a few minutes with them but it didn’t take us long to feel like friends.

None of them could imagine kayaking the border voyageur route and doing all those portages. I think they thought we were mad Aussies. They weren’t the first to think that.

The group knew a lot about the lake and they shared a few camping sites with us, one that we were going to use that night on Spar Island.

It was sad to see them paddle off. A few minutes later I looked back and saw the four paddlers way in the distance and silhouetted against the sun. Within minutes we were kilometres apart.

Soon the boys had paddled into the distance heading towards the US border.

We followed an island hoping to reach our camp well before the sun set. The big island came to an end and then a few tiny islands started appearing. Through the gaps we could see the big bad lake. It was still flat and calm, but like Dave and the group said, it is unusual to find the lake as calm as it was that day.

A white quartz rock sunk under water at the end of Spar Island, it was quite unique. Our campsite was close, but we really didn’t know what to expect. The cliff at the beginning of the island was covered with moss and just looking so stunning.

Cliffs at the beginning of Spar Island

A little further a deer was down at the waters edge. It was so clean looking and proud. It stood there like a stature and then suddenly took off into the rocky forest leaving us looking for more. The small cove that Dave talked about was in front of us. There was a stony beach in the corner but a large flat rock area next to it. The water shallowed quickly and no sooner had we stopped looking at the beauty of the cove we slid our bow up the slippery flat rock.

We were always thankful for a campsite, and this looked like a beauty. On closer inspection there wasn’t that much dirt to peg the tents down but there was enough for us. The camp was spacious with the rock stretching nearly 100 metres up the hill. It was good to walk on and good to spread our gear all around.

By sunset it was time for wine o’clock. Alaine had bought some beers in Grand Portage so it was time to drink them. They had been in the cold water since we arrived but funnily enough although this was one of the coldest lakes in the world, the beer wasn’t that cold. Probably that was the reason I drank 3 cans without knowing it. Or were they just planted next to me and I was told by Alaine I had drank them!

The chill soon crept in, the sun went down leaving the sky with a red glow. No sooner had I stopped writing my diary the stars were out and having clear skies they looked awesome.

Typing my diary and experiencing a stunning sunset

Thursday 8th September

Thursday 8th September

There was a beautiful blood red sun rise that we could see out of our hotel window. It was just amazing. We were hoping there were more to come when we got onto the lake.

At breakfast I ordered eggs Benedict which was actually very good but the service was terrible. I thought Alaine was going to say something as the two waitresses were very sour and unhelpful. I can’t remember service being so bad, yet the service in other areas not related to the restaurant was good. We left the restaurant saying to ourselves maybe its because we were in US. Are things different here?

We walked to the Grand Portage Fort to learn more about the history of the voyageurs. I had retraced the voyageurs routes from the Canadian Rocky Mountains so I was very interested in learning more. I also retraced the voyageurs when we paddled the Athabasca, Slave and Mackenzie Rivers but there was no way I had endured the discomfort that they would have gone through.

A rest day at Grand Portage.

At the fort we joined a tour in the canoe building shed. It was Eric, the guides first tour and he did an excellent job. We learnt so much about canoe building, the voyageurs and how they would rendevous at Grand Portage.

Part of the old Grand Portage Fort.

The Great Hall at the Grand Portage National Monument where Voyageurs, fur traders and buyers used to rendezvous.

Trading of furs at Grand Portage.

We walked out onto the jetty sitting on the calm Lake Superior before returning to the information centre where Eric called the US customs.

The jetty outside Grand Portage Fort. Voyageurs and traders from Montreal met up with Voyageurs from the west to trade.

We were told we had to contact the customs if we spent a night in the US. He tried several times and eventually he managed to get the right person to talk to. I talked to an officer and he wanted us to paddle to Pigeon River border control. I asked if we could paddle there tomorrow but he preferred we made it there today. When we returned to the hotel I checked the milage and found it was 30 kilometres and there was no way we would get there before dark.

Leonie rang the customs with her sexy voice and explained our problem and that we couldn’t get there by kayak and there was no taxi in town so we couldn’t get there by land. They then suggested sending a car to pick us up. That sounded pretty good. They called at 4.00pm and said the car would be a the hotel any minute. We went down and waited outside the hotel and soon after a customs truck pulled up. An officer greeted us. I opened the front passengers door and he said I had to sit in the back.

All three of us sat in the back with a cage in front of us and a cage at the back of us. There was no leg room. The opening at the bottom of the seats was blocked off. We were pinned in like sardines, well not quite but nearly. The officer was chewing gum with little expression on his face.

It was a scenic drive to the customs post. We were led to the office where another officer started interviewing us. He didn’t quite understand where we had come from and why we were there but another officer tried to explain. He may have been one of the people we spoke to earlier on the phone. We filled out a form and they asked for our finger prints. The fingers on our right hand, then the fingers on our left hand then our thumbs. They then took our photo and stapled a green card in our passports and said we needed to leave it at the airport before we left Canada or they will think that we overstayed our stay.

Eventually we went through the process and the customs officer relaxed and became more human. He even joked and wished us well on our trip.   He said, we will have to get a process sorted for kayakers coming across the border. Minutes later we were back in the truck and being taken back to our hotel. We asked the driver what his job was and he said apprehending illegals. He also lightened up. The US customs were very good to us.

I was a little restless when we returned and I did want to see some of the real Grand Portage Trail, so I decided to go for a run to check it out. Before the trip I wouldn’t have been able to run more than a kilometre without stopping but since then and after running several of the portages I was starting to feel running fit.

The Grand Portage trail which links Lake Superior to the Pigeon River is 13.7kms long, and bypasses a set of waterfalls and rapids on the last 32kms of the Pigeon River before it flows in Lake Superior.

I reached the trail after about 2kms on the road. The trail was about a car width wide but the track itself was only a foot track. It varied from a flat track to a rocky track, to a board walk, to tree roots, across streams, as well as being hilly. I just kept running wanting to see as much of the track as I could.

Part of the Grand Portage portage trail.

Eventually I had to turn and head back down the hill as I didn’t want to be caught out running in the dark. By the time I returned I had been running for 55 minutes or more. I was surprised that my legs were feeling so good after the previous hard few days. Back at the hotel I checked the beach in front of the hotel and saw a small bear running across to the woods.

The portage trail is well maintained as today many walkers use the trail. It varies from level, to rocky, to tree roots, to muddy and is fairly steep in places.

After a shower we went down to have dinner. We started with a great salad as much as we could eat. I then had duck, Alaine had buffalo and Leo had ribs and finished off with a sweet. The service was much better due to it being a Jamaican student who was studying hospitality and was there for a year. She was much friendlier, smiled and much easier to talk to and get service.

Wednesday 7th September

Wednesday 7th September

It was cold but not half as cold as the previous night. Two partridges were sitting on the road as I went to find a spot to go to the loo. We managed to start our twenty kilometre walk at 9.30am.

About to start our 20km walk. This is what the Voyageurs used to have to do in the old days, but on a single trail through the forest.

The track was rocky so the trolleys were bouncing and fairly hard to pull especially up the hills which there seemed to be many. The lose rocks were also a pain especially when the trolley wheels tried to climb them. We stopped for a rest now and then and on that first section we were only doing 1km an hour.

Alaine and I were pulling the big double Necky Nootka Plus kayak. The heaviest gear on our backs and in our hands, the lighter gear inside the kayak. The first part of the walk was stony and hilly.

Alaine and I were pulling the double and Leonie pulling the Epic. I had tied a piece of timber in the hand loop so we both had a grip either side of the bow. It worked well. However Alaine developed an ache in her side I think due to the heavy pack, the weight of the water she carrying in her right hand and of course the pulling of the kayak. Her back was bent and she could only see the track beneath her sore feet and big toe.

Having a rest after pulling up a hill. With the weight in the kayaks it was tough work pulling them up hill. It was slow going.

We passed a skidoo trail and soon after had our lunch in the middle of the track. We had no hope of getting run over as there was no traffic what so ever. It felt nice to sit on our heavy packs instead of carrying them.

The track continued to go up hills which was rather disappointing as we had hoped the track would have more down hill than up hill. Silly really as on the map, the road sort of followed a stream to its head waters. Finally we reached the old highway 61 which was much smoother than the Partridge track so we started making headway. There was even a bit of smooth bitumen, now and then. It still had hills though but not so many.

Finally we saw a pickup truck. It stopped but wanted directions to his brothers truck which was working on one of the side roads. Apparently it had broken down. Of course we had no idea but Leo tried showing him a map on her iPad. He sped off further down the old highway 61 and 10 minutes later he was back and taking a side road on our right.

One or two abandoned buildings started to appear as well as an abandoned skidoo and a canoe which were on the side of the road. Leo jumped on the ski-doo and I jumped in the canoe and Alaine took our photo. We had a bit of fun for the day. Nearby there was also a big sign which had all the skidoo tracks in the area painted on it. Apparently It was quicker to get to Grand Portage on one of the ski-doo tracks, but they were too uneven and grassy for our trolleys, so we stuck to the roads.

Having fun with an abandoned ski-doo. It took our mind off the hard portage.

The road was now straight and in the distance we could see the start of the bitumen road. We were excited of the thought of walking faster on level ground. We soon reached it and it was much better, but then it steepened. We rested and a car stopped and the guy asked us what we were doing. We rested further on and as I was pumping and purifying  water, a border patrol car came flying by. It didn’t stop so it could’t have been after us. Leonie was ahead lying on the bitumen doing stretching exercises. She had a dicky knee, but it hadn’t stopped her from doing the difficult portages. Alaine had several sore parts on her body also – feet, legs, shoulders but her aches hadn’t stopped her either. They were both tough cookies.

Leonie stretching on the side of the road. It was a hot, exhausting walk.

On the road there were hairy but colorful caterpillars crossing it. They ran a risk of being run over, but that didn’t stop them. Alaine was worried that our trolley might run over one. She worries about any thing living. If I was to kill a fly that bit me, I would have to make sure she wasn’t looking or she would say that I was cruel. I wonder what it is like to care about everything in the world.

 

The man that stopped earlier, who was trying to find his brother, stopped  again and offered us a lift. We declined, we couldn’t walk all that way and then get a ride on those final kilometres. Well that’s what I thought, I hope Alaine thought the same! He stopped next to Leonie and soon after sped off leaving us to continue our tough walk. One day you must try carrying a 35 kilogram pack, a 15 kilogram food bag and at the same time pull a 50 kilogram kayak with another 50 kilograms of weight inside. It is especially testing on the rocky tracks and the hills. We had cleared the rocky track but we still had the hills. The trolleys didn’t have bearing in the wheels so we had to be careful not to overheat the plastic sleeves that the wheels were attached to.

It was a pretty hot day and sweat was running off our backs. Alaine was really feeling the pain of carrying such a heavy pack whilst pulling the kayak. I was equally as exhausted but I had spent years pushing my body to the limit and carrying heavy packs so it was easier for me. But I suppose I didn’t show or verbally admit the walk was as hard on me.

Time was flitting by. We had prepared our selves for camping along the way but then we realised we were making better time than we thought and getting closer to our destination. Could we reach Grand Portage before dark or would we get stranded nearby?

We rested every so often to make sure the wheels didn’t overheat but it was more because we wanted to rest. Driveways with numbers at the entrances started appearing. We were getting closer to people, we could occasionally hear shouts and voices coming from the forest. We were wondering how we were going to accept being back in civilization. Would we like it?

There still seemed more up hills than down hills but in theory we should have been going down more than up. When giving my opinion about distances, portages and many other things I always said in theory it should be like that, but sometimes in reality things were different to what they should have been. Like the rapid we went over when the water was running in reverse. In theory it should have been flowing downhill against us but the wind was so strong it was holding the water back and blowing it in reverse to how it should have been.

At last we arrived at the top of a hill that had a tiny view of the lake or was it clouds, it was hard to establish. We were excited and not that much longer we were standing at the top of another rise and we could see Lake Superior. We had broken the back of our walk. Our destination was down the hill only kilometres away. We were now super excited especially as we now realised that we had a 90 percent chance of arriving at Grand Portage before dark. We took photos on the crest of the hill and the lake in the back ground. Our exhausted bodies suddenly felt relieved, but when we started walking again nothing had changed, only the fact that we had the kayak trying to pass us and we had to hold it back from running down the hill.

Yippee we can see the lake and a down hill section.

At the end of the road, where it joined the main highway we paused and took a few photos. Within the next 15 minutes we knew our marathon walk would be over and it would be just a memory. All our aches and pains will no longer be felt. In days to come we will be quizzing ourselves and asking; was it really that hard?

Joining the main highway. Now less than 2 kilometres to go.

A turnoff towards the lake was signed Casino and Hotel. We excitedly towed our kayaks across the major road and started walking against the traffic on a well paved minor road. Suddenly we came to a cross road, and a famous north American 4 way stop sign. To our right stood the Casino / hotel. We paused at the stop sign and crossed over stopping a few hundred metres from the casino for another photo opportunity. We were here. We were happy but in a way I was sad that the portaging had completely finished. No more portaging; it actually felt strange. It had been a big part of our lives, but for no longer.

Flags were flying outside the casino. We got a few strange looks on the way in and one man stopped his vehicle and asked what we were doing towing our boats through the area. Others thought that we must have been paddling the lake. No one really knew where we come from or could imagine what we had been through.

We parked the kayaks on a grass lawn near the flag poles straight out side the Casino door. Alaine and Leo went in to find out if there were vacancies. It would have been disaster if there wasn’t as the thought of a shower and be able to relax in a motel room had been on the girls minds for several day. I did suggest checking out the camping ground as I came in, but I was nearly throttled. How could I think about camping, I think they said.

After over 20 kilometres of walking we arrive at the Grand Portage Casino/hotel.

They came out of the reception with smiles on their faces. They did have a room and it was pretty cheap and it was overlooking Lake Superior. The security man in the casino said we could leave our kayaks where they were on the front lawn for everyone to see and he would keep an eye on them. They would be safe, he said.

Sweaty from our ordeal we lifted our packs on our backs and walked into reception and took the lift to the second floor, relaxed showered and then went to the dining room for a meal. Leo and I had steak and lobster. Alaine had a chicken dish. Apart from the lobster the food was good, but the service was very ordinary.

Tuesday 6th September

Tuesday 6th September

There was a real chill in the air and when we surfaced there was frost on the kayak and clothing I had left out was as stiff as a board. Because we had finished most of the portages I thought we deserved a extra rest so I didn’t rustle the gang until 7.45am, 45 minutes after we usually get up.

There was little room for our tents.

It was so cold I had to find my neoprene gloves to warm my hands. We had a cereal breakfast and a hot cup of tea before leaving our makeshift camp in the hope of finding some sun. Pushing the boats into the water was fairly easy but getting in them without stepping in the mud was much more difficult.

With our legs tucked inside the cockpit we tackled the first rapid which was only a few metres away from camp. There was supposed to have been a portage track close by, but we didn’t see it. We managed to paddle down the first small drop before it shallowed and had to get out and face the freezing water. Here began the start of a fairly long walk. We stumbled along much of the time leaning on the kayak and using it as support but when the water deepened we leapt back in and dangled our feet overboard as our ride was usually short lived. Just before, or when the kayak crunched over a rock we would leap out and steer it around the boulders again. It was tedious work but much quicker than portaging.

Pulling and pushing the kayaks upstream. The water was cold, the air was cold but at least the sun was shining.

With the morning light, the sun enhanced the beauty of the river and it’s surrounds. We took photos of us stumbling over the rocks and Leo easing the Epic 18 down the rapids with a rope. Occasionally we could hear her say something I can’t repeat – we knew she had hit another rock or stumbled on the slippery rocks. The kayak wasn’t really built for white water or being dragged over rocks or up the rocky shorelines fully loaded.  It was getting a hammering but it was holding up very well. On many occasions we lifted the Epic fully loaded from the rocks straight into the water by it’s handles. The handles, the rope and the stainless steel saddle has stood up to all the strain of lifting, which I am amazed. I am really happy how it has stood up to all the punishment so far.

The small rapids continued for some time but eventually they got smaller and easier to get through. We came to two small rapids where a beaver had constructed a dam across them by utilising the rock ledges and laying branches across the river to stop the water. Many of the branches were freshly cut and still had green leaves, which were laid carefully across the river. We landed on the branches, got out of the kayaks and pushed the kayaks over.

Crossing a beaver dam. Pigeon River.

In front of us now was clean water without obstruction so our fun with the small rocky rapids seemingly came to an end. We weaved our way down the shallow river which had weed growing from the river bottom. The river edges returned to reeds and grasses and at one point near a place called, The Meadow, the trees thinned out.

A calmer part of Pigeon River looking upstream..

Two otters bobbed their heads out of the water as we passed them. The trees became thick again and soon after we approached Partridge Falls. We passed an old cabin and pulled out about 15 metres before the falls.

15 metres after the pull out point the rapids start and then it's over the waterfalll!

At the time we didn’t realise that the falls were 21 metres high and apart from the first 10 or so metres were vertical and dropped into a canyon.

I'm glad we decided to get out before the falls.

We casually pulled our kayaks a little out of the water and strolled to the falls which were impressive to say the least. I don’t think anyone would attempt paddling it, although there are a few mad kayakers in the world. Alaine and I clambered down to the base of the falls and it was just more impressive from there. Water spray was floating around like mist from a steam cleaner. Insects also enjoyed the water vapour.

Partridge Falls.

In the meantime Leo was checking the track out from the falls. Although I wanted to go on to the Grand Portage trail, which was a few kilometres further, both Leo and Alaine wanted to walk to the village of Grand Portage from Partridge Falls. The advantage being was that we could use our trolleys and walk the 20km portage down a bush track which led onto a bitumen road and do it in one go. The Grand Portage trail was a trail and we wouldn’t have been able to use the trolleys. We would have to make three trips, which meant 120kms of walking.

Although not as authentic, the easier way had more sense considering we had been portaging for a number of days already and it had been really hard work.

The track was about 400 metres back from the falls so we paddled back upstream to where the old hut stood. It was a muddy exit but we managed to get the boats out without getting too dirty. As we carried our gear up to a vehicle turning point the realisation that we only had one more barrier before getting onto Lake Superior dawned on us. I think we were all happy to have finished all the border lakes but I also think we were a little sad as it had become part of our life and although it was hard, I know I was secretly enjoying the challenge. We had the beauty, the wilderness and the challenge and the portages for sure were a challenge. It was just a challenge not to fall down or injure ourselves. It was a challenge to step or climb over logs with a heavy pack and two heavy bags in each hand. To carry big Bertha was even more of a challenge. We can, especially the girls can be proud of what they had achieved. And we still had a another challenge ahead.

Taking the kayaks out for the last time along the border route.

We started sorting out our gear to get it in some sort of order as we needed to carry quite a heavy load and put the lighter gear in the kayak. By the time I fetched a load of water from the falls, where it was cleaner than where we took out, it was 4.15pm. We then thought it was too late to leave and was better to get an early morning start and relax for the rest of the day.

Monday 5th September

Monday 5th September

The wind had dropped and the lake was calm. It was cold though. The view of the lake from our camp was exquisite.

I walked a load of gear over the portage while the girls finished packing up. We then had less gear to take when all three of us started portaging. Again our put-in point was really swampy but I found another place on the stream just before it joined the lake. There wasn’t much room, just over a boats width but at least it wasn’t muddy. Once we put in the water in the stream was perfectly clear. We followed the stream and it filtered into reeds that thickened and thinned for about 500 metres. Once finally in North Foul Lake proper it was calm and quite beautiful.

Where the lake narrowed a fishing outfitter and a few cabins appeared on the right. Behind it a cliff gave the camps the perfect backdrop. An island ahead was surrounded by reeds and at first it looked as if we couldn’t get through. A small power boat motored by and weaved around the island so we knew then there was a way through.

We followed a channel around the island to the left and into South Foul Lake. Once around we could see our portage point below a vertical cliff and some other amazing high cliffs and more beautiful hills. There was also a cabin next to the portage point, but on closer inspection that ended up being on an island before it.

This was our last lake before reaching Pigeon River and our big 20km portage to Grand Portage. It was exciting time for us and the beautiful surrounds helped us enjoy our achievement so far.

As we neared our destination we could see the entrance to the Pigeon River. It was like a concrete dam with a small entrance in the corner of the lake under another cliff. I supposed the structure regulated the water. The opening was like a door. A sign posted at the river entrance said, Danger, fast water – rapids. It did look like a sheer drop after the concrete entrance. It was one of a few signs that we had seen on the river since leaving Kenora. None of the portage trails were marked and the maps were not always correct. If you didn’t know how to read a map you could easily get lost. All the US campsites were marked as dots on the map but very, very few of the Canadian ones were. It was guess work. The Canadian policy was not to mark their campsites or advertise them so we didn’t really know how many we passed by, but there were certainly a lot fewer of them.

The scenery was just magical, perfect for our last lake. It was nice to land at a beach for our last portage. With the vertical cliff towering over us, it was a spectacle.

Arriving at the Pigeon River portage point.

We dragged our kayaks up the beach, unloaded and had lunch in the sun. It was  12.30pm. Leo put her solar panel in the sun also but the high cliff would soon block out the sun. A small squirrel rustled around us as I ate spam and cheese in a pitta bread. We were then ready for our 2km walk to the Pigeon River. It was going to be another long portage but at least it was one of the last overland ones that we would do.

The walk started with a near vertical rocky slope that really tested our stamina and leg and heart muscles. At least after about 60 metres it levelled a bit  and then turned steep again before leveling out again.

Leo and Alaine taking care as they walk down a near vertical rocky slope.

After that it was mostly level or down hill with a few ups but it was the logs that were a pain. There were 20 or so of them, some low but many were waist height or higher so stepping over them was often a struggle especially with heavy gear and kayaks on our backs. We also had stony gullies, tree roots, tight turns and a bit of mud thrown in just for luck. This portaged didn’t seem to get maintained as the popular ones did.

The fallen logs were a real problem when portaging with a heavy load.

After nearly 2kms of portaging our first heavy load, the Pigeon River that we had been heading to for 4 weeks was there right in front of us. It wasn’t anything grand in fact it was quite narrow but that didn’t matter it had water in it to get us down to where we could portage to Lake Superior.

It took about forty minutes to carry our loads and 30 minutes to return for the next load. I carried the Epic and a backpack and the girls carried backpacks and whatever they could carry in their hands. Big Bertha was carried last. It was a bit of a struggle to get up the near vertical slope but we did it. After nearly 2kms and 3 rests we came to the narrow winding section where it was impossible to get around without shunting back and forth in the undergrowth.

Portaging the 50kg Necky Nootka Plus for 2 kilometres.

We finally made it to the Pigeon River but it was nearly 5.00pm and we needed to load and find a campsite before dark.

After the long portage we arrive at the Pigeon River.

The current was lazy and river narrow and lined with reeds, like paddy fields. The edges were swampy and not good for camping but we were surprised to be able to paddle so easily down the river. The sun was behind us and getting low in the sky but it was lighting up and shining on the trees, the reeds and river ahead. It was beautiful lighting and such a wonderful night.

The tranquil part of the Pigeon River used by Voyageurs.

We could find no camp sites among the river reeds and swampy gullies so we just kept paddling. Then we came to the rapids marked on my map. We didn’t see the portage route but it didn’t matter we were able to walk our kayaks down the rapids. It wasn’t easy and the sun had now disappeared behind the canopy of trees leaving the valley cold and the water we were walking in even colder. At times we could get in and paddle but it wasn’t for long. I knew the cold would soon worry Alaine as she gets cold very easily, so I was looking for any type  ground that would take our tents, we couldn’t be particular.

The Necky kayak crunched over several rocks as it was impossible to miss them in the shallows. Leo was behind lining the Epic down. She calls the Epic her pony. The chill turned to cold, our fingers started to freeze, well nearly, we really needed that camp. I checked a spot but it was hugely uneven and would only take one tent.

It was getting extremely cold and nowhere to camp.

The flow and grade kept varying so at every opportunity we jumped back in. A few metres later the kayak would crunch over a rock or two and we would have to get out again. We were more out than in though. At times we walked into deep holes that we didn’t realise were there, which was most unpleasant and cold. Alaine and I worked as a team to get the kayak around all the boulders, some we left white gelcoat paint on. Leo didn’t have the best balance over the slippery rocks so she took it slowly and managed okay.

Darkness was less than 45 minutes away and we were still wading through water. I checked a small island and it had too many gullies to camp. There seemed to be a lot of high grass lining the river edge but it too was full of gullies. Just before another set of rapids I saw higher ground. I just knew we had to stop before we tackled the next set of rapids as I didn’t know how long they would go on for and it was getting too dark not to camp.

I noticed a spot a few metres before the rapids. I jumped out to check. It wasn’t level but there was a tiny clearing so it just had to do. We shivered as we heaved the kayaks up the steep bank underneath the branches of a pine tree. When we got the kayaks up there really wasn’t a lot of room for the tents but we found another spot a few metres upstream. This was our camp for the night.

We changed quickly. The half moon was shining brightly through the trees by the time we get our tents up. We didn’t have much room to walk about but we managed to cook a quick meal before crawling into our tents that were erected on tree roots and spiky vines. To our surprise there were no mosquitoes, but it was cold.

Wow, what a day we had.

Sunday 4th September

Sunday 4th September

It rained in the night so I got up to take some washing off the line. It was grey skies when two guys passing by at 6.45am shouted as they paddled towards the portage. I walked to talk to them and they were going to Grand Portage as fast as they could which meant today. I tried to get a bit of information about the portage but they were in too much of a hurry. They were traveling light. They had a light Kevlar canoe and two backpacks that looked half full.

We started portaging at 9.15am carrying our packs 66 rods, 330 metres. Of course we had to walk that distance 6 times. There was a swamp on the other side with two different routes. We liked the first route as it wasn’t as muddy as the other route. Because the lake was low I jumped into the kayak and checked the route before we made a decision which one to take. We were lucky we could get through the reeds at the nearest portage trail, which saved walking through a bog, so we started loading. It looked as if the other route was used when people arrived there because they couldn’t see the channel that we were taking through the reeds.

Entering a swamp.

Once loaded we paddled through the reeds and lilies for about 300 metres and then we had to get out again for another 220 metre portage. Another canoe with father and son in caught us up and passed us. At the end of the portage, where we were just finishing loading, three guys in a canoe came along, threw their canoe in the water, had a brief chat and said they were doing 100 miles in 36 hours. They only slept for a few hours last night. Within a minute they were off.

Paddling through a swampy area.

The put-in point was not good. When we were leaving I put my foot in the water and sank up to my thigh. It was really smelly and not the smell I wanted to take with me all day so I washed the mud off quickly.

We paddled through more lilies to get to the next portage which was 630 metres long. Apart from the first part, this section was level or downhill.

We had a good vista of Moose Lake and had lunch after taking the first load over. When we started paddling down the lake with the wind pushing us along, it had great scenery and we saw no-one.

At the portage at the bottom of Moose Lake I ran to the other side to see what it was like and again it was swampy but there were two campsites near where we had landed so we picked the one on the Canadian side. It was better anyway. We erected our tents on grass high on a rock cliff. It was windy and chilly with rain storms threatening to come down the lake. We watched them develop and get within 500 metres of us and then they would blow across the lake and be gone without reaching us. It was just amazing how they suddenly changed direction and disappeared.

A rainstorm coming down the lake.

We managed to get email coverage so we were able to send a few emails. After dinner we didn’t stay up long, it was too windy and cold. It was cozy in our sleeping bags.

Camped high over Moose Lake and wasn't it cold.