My new/used Sawyer scares me. I dunno if I just have been paddling Prospectors for too many years now, if I'm now too fat to enjoy a trim solo (at 250lbs I am 50lbs fatter than I was last year when I spent an afternoon in an Advantage, I am now officially "Supersized"), or I just suck. But I've been in my Sawyer Mist for atleast a few hours every day this week and the experience starts out as sheer terror eventually turning into a dull ache. But those could just be my knees seeing as how I can't bring myself to sit for more than a few minutes in anything but a flat calm.

I am scared of paddling my "rock steady, 300lb capacity, tourer".
Dread would be a good adjective. Initial stability is non-existent, it simply will not stay on center. Secondary stability is only theoretical, I chicken out around 3" before the gunwales hit the water. I've put about 20km paddling around a big harbour on Lake Ontario, stayed upright even stopped to talk to other fishermen and I think I hid my terror well. But at this point I can't imagine being able to cast, or even sit. I've even picked up a bilge pump for the dunking that seems inevitable at this point.

At 250lbs with atmost 20lbs of gear am I over the capacity of my 15'x29" Sawyer Mist? Do I just need to get over it and trust the boat that seems to want to kill me every time I relax my vigil? Is this just how classic solo's behave and I just suck? I've been missing my Bob's Special this week, I could take a nap in the middle of a hurricane with that boat.
After 20 years of solo tripping & paddling around Lake Ontario I rarely second guessed my abilities, but this has been a real confidence shaker.

What boat scared you, and did you ever get over it?

Not sure how many of you have read Dewdney, but he is a "must read" for anyone interested in pictographs. In the 50's and 60's he documented almost every known pictograph site in Ontario, and many across Cananda as well. His two books that I have are "Indian Rock Paintings of the Great Lakes" and "The Sacred Scrolls of the Southern Ojibway".

Dewdney's informant for most of his work was Norval Morriseau.

Anyway, I downloaded Daylight in the Swamp for my kobo. It's Dewdney's memoirs, put together by his son. They are a must read for a canoeist, the memoir is basically a work of love about canoeing in Northern Ontario. He has the best description of the variety of bugs that plague people that I have ever written. He also has some first hand accounts of Native life in the 1930's, both good and bad.

It's a good read!

OEM white plastic Sawyer seats, new, have 3, $40 ea
OEM smoke plastic Sawyer seat, used, $30
Mad River Monarch rudder (taken off), used, $40.

Plus shipping. I take paypal. Have pics.

Joe

Attached Images

• Smoke Sawyer Seat.jpg‎ (23.8 KB)
• Rudder.jpg‎ (23.7 KB)
• Sawyer Seat top.jpg‎ (91.8 KB)

This is a 2005, 40 actual pounds, kevlar Solo 13. It is fitted with Wenonah seat brackets that allow a high or low seating position, as well as an angled kneeling position. This canoe was kept in a besment until now, and never paddled.

It has only a few and minor scuffs and marks from normal transport and storage.

See the Superior website: Solo Model Canoes Superior Canoes Portland Michigan USA
The price is less than 1/2 of the new listed price!! I will be honest, the hull of this boat looks absolutely beautiful, however, the interior layup is not up to Scott Smith's standards of today. The resin work is just a bit sloppy compared to his craftsmanship. But the boat is sound and should be a fun paddle.

It IS a DY design, after all!

Joe

Attached Images

• Solo 13 Interior resized.JPG‎ (37.2 KB)

A Disco 119 came up locally on craigslist. It has a cane seat, so I'm guessing its an earlier generation boat. From a little web prowling, It seems that the boat has a rounder bottom and and at least some keel rocker. I am wondering if it has enough rocker to stand having its gunnels pulled in with out hogging?

The hope is that this to have a narrow enough boat for a beginning canoeist to reach the water with a single paddle and with a straight keel have solid enough tracking to get some where with single or double paddle....on the cheap, of course.

Reason being, it may now be politic to find a solo canoe for my girl, as I am reported to be preoccupied with my "solo" plans, and resultant arriving packages from Campmor and the like.

Another part of the ploy is to keep her a little closer as she burrows ahead into the wind on her silly sit on top kayak, while I maintain that a "gentlemen do not sail to windward" while tacking back and forth across her wake, while "training for the summers expedition".

I think we would have more fun in better matched craft, and worry that the stock Disco would not be an upgrade for her beyond the dry seat. Thoughts?

(I think made the pics a little too wide, if you can't read, zoom the browser screen to 75% so things will fit better.)

Instead of the Allegheny River Wilderness Islands trip I had planned, I went on the nearby Clarion River, a smaller river with less towns and roads. I drove 9 hours to the put-in, where there is an outfitter who rents boats and leads overnight trips.



I drove the last 3 hours in constant rain. The forecast was originally for warm spring weather with a chance of showers, but it changed to rainy the last minute. I arrived late in the day, so I decided to camp in the outfitter’s back yard and leave in the morning. Here is my brand new Eureka Timberline 4 with vestibule.



That night it rained so hard, with wind, thunder and lightning, that the small river went up a foot overnight, and rose another two feet before cresting the next afternoon. I waited to see where it would stop rising before deciding whether to start paddling or to cancel. A wet waterline border on the dry shore under the shelter of the bridge tells me the river has now started to go down. It was 4 in the afternoon the second day before I even set out on the river, and I went just two miles to a island I decided to scout. I am traveling conservatively as this is my first solo river trip. I want to be sure things go ok, and not take any chances. The island is a nice place, so I decide to set up camp in a previously used area. It pours again while I am setting up, and I am caught without my rain gear handy. I later build a fire and hang a tarp, to dry out me and my stuff. My Eureka tent has stayed dry inside through a ton of rain, however, and I am happy with the purchase.





The sun does come out briefly to reveal the glory of this place.





The next morning I am up and the river has gone down a bit more. I take my time and gradually pack my stuff. I work out a better arrangement of gear in the canoe, so the weight is more centered and the bags won’t shift. Everything is carabinered to a tether to make it easier to take it out and put back. My gear weighs over 200 pounds. I use a CPAP machine at night, and have two lead marine batteries to power it. The sealed gel cell technology makes it safe from leaks, unless I go over a waterfall. The packing takes all morning. Although I am not rushing, I am trying to be efficient so I can get this down to an hour or so, for when I go on longer trips in real wilderness areas. I was up at 6 a.m., but it is 11 a.m. before I am back on the river. Yikes.









I passed through a hearty class I+ rapid under a trestle. The rapids are not rock-studded, but rather, because of the high water, are big standing waves and such. I was surprised by the power of the water, but also surprised at the stability of my Dagger Venture 17 with the heavy load I was paddling all by myself. Yee-haw, start the banjo music!!
I saw lots of small wildlife on the way. A raccoon wading, herons, a bald eagle who followed ahead of me all afternoon, ducks, mergansers, kingfishers and geese with their young. I find out later there are elk in this part of the state, a herd of a few hundred, but I saw no large animals until I got on the highway heading home and saw road-kill deer all over.



This section has 8 miles of remote river, very peaceful, and then some cottages here and there and a bridge or two. A jackhammer works on one bridge and the noise fills the valley like there’s a battle going on.







I stopped for supper and some quiet time by this lovely natural rock garden, and the sun comes out for the second time on this trip. This third day I went 16 miles, and camped on shore at Irwin Run, a site with an outhouse and a nice little waterfall.







Next morning I am up and packing, but it still takes forever to get everything organized in into my canoe. It has rained on and off the whole trip, but this last day the sun peeks out more and more, and I stop to drink in the rays and soak up the beauty, and talk with God about his world. I am only ½ mile by my GPS and map from the takeout, where the outfitter has stashed my car, but I want to enjoy this last bit of the trip and not hurry myself.





But the wind picks up and dark clouds tower above, so I begin to move on. As I round the bend, I see the takeout down the river, but the wind rises to a roaring in the trees in the uplands, the sky opens up and rain pours down on me, the river, and the land all around. It is so windy I pull off, and then thunderbolts crash, and crash again. I can see my car, but cannot get to it, so I wait out the storm the half-hour it takes to blow over.



The rain abates to a shower, and as I get to the take-out the sun comes out and dries all my gear before I get it loaded in my car. It is sunny the whole rest of the drive to my son’s house in another part of the state.



This river is a pleasant trip (probably more so when it is not raining) and the wooded hills, the tall graceful trees, the little rapids, the quaint cottages, and the free camping, make it worth the while if you are in the area with your canoe and camping gear. Thanks for reading my trip report.

I have an old cedar woodstrip tandem pro boat. (I ask about it here because this seems like the best canoeing forum in general even though it's for solo.) It has about 1" of negative rocker at bow and stern. The midsection has sagged. Does this happen due to being stored upside down from end supports for years'n'years?

Is there a handy way to reverse this and maybe to even put a bit of rocker into the hull?

I was thinking it might work if I were to somehow compress the midsection gunnels toward each other and then force some wedged material under the center thwart -- and leave it like that for months.

This is a glassed boat. --JP

There goes my first solo trip planned for this coming weekend, the whole area is shut down.

May 14, 2012

FIRE UPDATE #1



Manitoba Conservation and Water Stewardship is introducing backcountry travel restrictions in the eastern region effective immediately. Backcountry travel is now allowed by permit only.

All burning permits already issued have been cancelled. New burning permits will not be issued. All forest, mining and quarry operations will only be allowed to operate by permit. Campfires, including campfires in provincial parks, will only be allowed from 8 p.m. to 8 a.m. in approved fire pits only. For information on the travel restrictions, contact the local Manitoba Conservation and Water Stewardship office or call 1-204-345-1444.

The restrictions affect areas in eastern Manitoba. This includes the areas from the Manitoba-U.S. border in the south to the Bloodvein/Gammon River including Bissett and Hollow Water in the north, and east of La Broquerie, Richer and the Brokenhead Ojibway First Nation, and along the eastern edge of Lake Winnipeg to the Ontario boundary. This includes Whiteshell, Nopiming, Moose Lake, Wanipigow, Wallace Lake, Manigotagan River and south Atikaki provincial parks and the Northwest Angle and Sandilands provincial forests.

Manitoba Conservation and Water Stewardship, the Office of the Fire Commissioner (OFC), the Manitoba Emergency Measures Organization and rural municipalities continue to respond to wildfires in southeastern Manitoba.

The fire danger continues to be high in the southeast region of the province due to low relative humidity, high temperatures and high winds. Anyone living, working, camping or travelling in these areas is advised to use extreme caution and to avoid starting any fires.

The main fire of concern is a large, approximately 5,000-hectare (ha) fire northeast of Carrick and southeast of Wood Ridge and Vita. Provincial and municipal officials are focusing efforts to protect the community of Badger.

Municipal fire crews continue to be supported by more than 60 forest firefighters from Manitoba Conservation and Water Stewardship along with six bulldozers to cut fire lines. Substantial air resources are also in place including six water bombers and three helicopters. Two additional water bombers from Quebec are expected to arrive later today to assist firefighting efforts.

The province has established a command post at Marchand to co-ordinate the provincial and municipal response to this fire.

The Rural Municipality (RM) of Piney ordered the evacuation of the community of Badger last night to ensure the safety of area residents. Sixteen individuals remain evacuated until further notice.

The RM of Piney has also declared a state of local emergency to help manage the wildfire situation in the area. Travel is restricted to municipal and provincial roads.

Municipal fire crews from eastern Manitoba, with the assistance of the OFC, continue to work on a large fire located southeast of Vita in the RM of Stuartburn. This fire is located south of PTH 201. A command post has been established at Vita to assist the co-ordination of the fire department’s mutual-aid response.

In addition, work continues to put out a 400-ha fire south of Marchand. No structures are threatened at this time.

No official causes of the fires have been determined at this time, but fire investigators continue to look into possible causes.

For information on fire prevention and current fire updates, visit Fire Program | Manitoba Conservation | Province of Manitoba.

- 30 -

After 2 aborted attempts I was able to get away for a few days in Algonquin Park. My latest grandiose ideas included a spring solo trip looping through the north east end of the park or doing a long figure 8 route intersecting at Louisa. However, my apprehensive and perhaps more level headed wife suggested I try something a little easier. Given the cold water and the fact that I was alone, I agreed and headed to the summertime hub of the park, Tom Thomson Lake.

Sunrise along HWY 60 on the Drive in.




The trip is a straight forward affair with only one road like portage that you have to cross. It should take 3– 4 hours to get from the access to Tom Thomson, assuming there are no traffic jams along the way! I say traffic jams because I have heard this area is ridiculously busy in the summer. It is not uncommon to see 30 or 40 canoes lined up waiting their turn to portage the Joe Lake dam.

I had the place to myself! Since I was at the busiest point in the park and there was no one here, I was determined to take in all the sights that this beautiful place has to offer. I launched from the Canoe lake access point on water like glass.






First stop was the dock at Hayhurst Point and the Tom Thomson Cairn. This Cairn and bizarre looking Totem pole were erected in 1917 as a memorial to Tom.






Despite what this inscription says I don't believe Tom Thomson is buried in Owen Sound. He is still here in the park.

After this stop, a quick trip across the lake takes you to the former town site of Mowat. I took out just north of the old town site in an area known as the Chip Yard. This spongy log strewn bay is essentially a 100 year old example of industrial pollution by the Gilmor Lumber Company. It was a dumping ground for sawdust and inferior logs that was never cleaned up when the Lumber company went bankrupt at the turn of the last century.




From here, I went up the trail to the Mowat Cemetery. This was the original location where Tom Thomson was buried. The trail head can be found about 100 yards south of the Chip Yard along the old road. Look for this tree on the west side of the road and you will see the trail head.



After 1/2 km or so the trail ends at this unusually large and obviously very old Birch tree surrounded by a picket fence.




There are two stones in the cemetery. One small stone marks the grave of Alexander Hayhurst who died in 1915 at 8 years of age. I believe the Hayhurst family are the ones who continue to maintain this cemetery. The other stone is for JA Watson and is inscribed:

In Memory of Ja’s Watson
the first white person buried at Canoe Lake.
Died May 25 1897 being one of about 500 employed at this Camp
by the Gilmour Lumbering Co. Aged 21 yrs.

Remember Comrades when passing by
As you are now so once was I
As I am now so you shall be
Prepare thyself to follow me

Outside the cemetery is a lone white cross. This suggests the site of Tom Thomson’s grave. It is widely thought to be a just prop or decoy left in this spot years ago. After reading the very good book,, Northern Light by Roy MacGregor I firmly believe that Tom Thomson's final resting place is here several yards outside the cemetery fence. Your guess is as good as mine as to exactly where.

Leaving the town of Mowat behind, I continued north past Potter Creek then portaged past the Joe Lake dam. I saw two parties leaving the park at Joe but didn’t meet anyone going in or pass anyone camping. A few hundred yards past the dam is a bridge going over Joe Lake. Just before the bridge on the north shore is a boat launch and parking lot presumably for MNR or cottagers use. I tied up my canoe and went looking for any remains of the Hotel Algonquin.

This Post Card was sent by my Great Great Aunt to my Grandmother in August 1934. She was on vacation and stayed at Hotel Algonquin 78 summers ago. Pretty Cool!





Post mark August 30, 1934. (3 cent stamp gets it to Liverpool, England)

"Many thanks for your letter, sent on to me here. So glad you enjoyed your trip to Norway but somehow, I can't picture you sitting still on a steamer. This is a beautiful place. Right in the bush. No roads. You travel by Canoe. Love Auntie M. Hotel Algonquin."


I’m not sure when the hotel burned down. Here are the remains that I found.

Boiler?




Perhaps footings for a water tower?




Foundation?




Err, um, I dunno.




At this point I was getting hungry. So, I headed north through Joe Lake to Gibraltar Rock for some lunch. Looking north from the rock towards Tepee Lake. Camp Arowhon is just visible on the left side of the photo.




Looking south from the rock down Joe Lake.




After lunch I continued on my way. The gathering wind pushed me through Teepee Lake past Camp Arowhon, and into the Little Oxtongue River. This is a beautiful part of the park. I can see why it is so popular in the summer. My final destination for the next 3 nights was Tom Thomson Lake. I was the only one on the lake and picked out a fantastic site on the east shore.

It was far too large for a solo traveller but it had all the other criteria I wanted. A good beach landing, western exposure, a good breeze, a rocky point for fishing and a great fire ring. I set up camp and settled in for the night.




Nice fire pit with surprisingly comfortable stone seating!




Me and my bug tent. Which wasn't really needed. Although the Black Fly's were out they weren't really biting. Much.





Misty morning view from my campsite. Today I would trip to Brule Lake hoping to explore the old town site of Brule and Doc Kase’s cottage, PrinGrove. I had a great breakfast omelette, a second helping of coffee and slowly got round to setting out for the day. I figured it would take an hour and a half to get to Brule. I was wrong!

The blow down alerts for the north and east portions of the park should be extended to cover the whole park. I had been on the portage between Tom Thomson and an unnamed pond for 2 minutes before I came to the first tree blocking my path. I started to keep count of the downed trees. That was futile! It was like God had picked a handful of Pine and Birch and strewn them across the portages like tooth picks. It was rare that I would walk for two minutes without coming across another tree I had to step over, climb under or find my way around.








The three portages and bit of paddling between Tom Thomson and Potter Lake took 2 hours. Not good! Knowing I was behind, I hurried up Potter Lake without checking my map. At the top of Potter lake was a portage which followed a logging road to Brule Lake. There was no portage sign to be found, so I made my own path. Scrambled up the steep embankment to the road and started walking towards Brule.




After a 1/2 km or so I came across a portage sign signalling the proper Portage from Potter to Brule. Arrgh!! Turns out I had exited Potter Lake too early! Instead of exiting at the top of the lake I had pulled out at point ¾ of the way up the lake. Doh! Lesson learned. Not much I could do but keep walking. After another 750 metres I finally made it to Brule.

Potter Creek heading in to Brule.




It is unfortunate that the west side of Brule Lake is scarred by the logging road running its length because otherwise Brule is a beauty! There are two campsites on the lake. The southern one doesn’t look so great but the other site perched on a cliff on the east shore is great. I paddled around the lake a bit and stopped for a very late lunch. The sky started to turn dark and I was running out of time. Unfortunately, I didn’t get a chance to really explore the lake and decided I had to head back the way I came.

On the left is the Brule town site. Right is Doc Kase’s cottage, Pringrove.




Potter Lake







Since I knew what I was in for on the way back, I decided to make a video of the 500m portage out of Pathfinder Lake. Gives you an idea of what some of the Spring trails were like:




After a 2 1/2 hours trip and one final paddle up the little Oxtongue River to Tom Thomson Lake I was happy to be back at camp. I was so tired I completely forgot about my fear of bears a fell into a sound sleep by 10pm.

The next day was another late start. I was planning another adventurous trip much like the day before. Only this time I can’t tell you where I went on account of the fish!

Suffice to say I travelled about 3 hours from Tom Thomson Lake and found myself lifting over a few beaver dams and travelling up a stream. Now, I will preface this by saying I am a sorry fisherman. I have been fishing for a few years and have never caught a Trout. I spend too much time tying knots and getting hooks out of articles of clothing.

My vision of fishing for Lake Trout includes tying on a deep diving Rapala and throwing out 50 feet or so of line behind my canoe. Then I would paddle between the shore and an island. If that doesn’t work, I would take 20 minutes or so to tie on a Williams Warbler and a sinker and go do the same thing. Having no idea how deep my lure actually is or what lay under the surface of the water. If a fish happened to be in the path of my lure I would be surprised. If one actually took the bait it would be an entirely unexpected bonus.

To my mind, fishing for Brook trout involves finding an inky black pool at the bottom of a set of rapids. Quietly toss a small spinner across the current and bring it back in the hopes that a fish darts out to take the bait. I would have no real clue if there were fish there and if I actually caught something it would also be a very happy surprise.

Back to the stream.



After 15 minutes travelling up the creek looking at the birds, looking for moose and listening to the peepers, I came to a small rock lift over. I took my paddle out of the water and laid it across the Gunwales with the familiar clunk of wood on wood.

At this point, the water just ahead of my canoe, which was about 30” deep, exploded! I was stunned and didn’t know what was happening. Then I saw a half dozen fish jump and flop up the small rapid 10 yards in front of the canoe. I froze. Looking down through the very clear water at the sand bottom beneath me, I saw another half dozen Brook Trout scooting this way or that.



Holy Crap! I never expected this. I didn’t expect to actually see the fish! I Iet my canoe silently drift back downstream and tied up to shore. I was full of excitement and jitters as I took the 20 minutes required to tie on a Panther Martin that had been patiently waiting for this occasion. I crept back up the embankment past the small rapid. Beyond the rocks were 30 yards of water before more rocks and a Beaver dam. I peered into the water and saw more fish. I gingerly held out my rod to do a back hand cast up the stream. Released the bail and with a twitch of my wrist cast my Panther Martin directly into the Alder 10 feet from where I stood. :lol: !!!

Dropping the rod I crashed my way through the bush to retrieve my lure. Of course, again, the water exploded into action. Fish were darting frantically to escape, flopping over rocks and hiding under logs. There were scores of them!



I finally untangled my mess and started casting properly into the stream. The fish were not interested. I cast up upstream, downstream and straight across. They just kept to themselves. I would land the lure directly behind or in front of a group of fish and they would just sit and silently mock me. I proceeded to go through all the little lures in my little tackle box.

I was exasperated. In a last ditch attempt I tried a small jig with an artificial scented minnow. This, at least got their attention. Not that they would bite it. It looked more like they were trying to strike up a conversation. Berkley was not speaking their language. Exhausted and with 3 hours of hard travelling to get back to camp, I reluctantly left empty handed. This sorry fool will be back one day. Next time with a hook and some worms.

At least this was waiting to console me back at camp.






I drowned my sorrows with some fine whisky and a fire and listened as two warring parties of loons screamed obscenities at each other well into the night. It was a perfect end to a great trip. I can’t wait to go back in the fall!


Martin

Post script: Since posting this report on another forum I have learned that those were probably not Brookies I was snubbed by. They were probably suckers - likely longnose (red) suckers preparing to spawn. |D

I would love to talk to you. I have a brand new fiberglass 190 Cruiser, right out of the mold. Trimmed with aluminum gunwales slightly attached. Circa 2006. It has no thwarts or seats installed, and I would appreciate some help in installing the right length parts in the right places, as I finish out this canoe for sale!

Thanks,
Joe

With no project hull on the horizon it was time to start once again bringing the family fleet into the shop for minor repairs and spring tune ups.

The Mad River Freedom Solo first. I noticed on a recent trip that a pinky nail sized flap of urethane resin* was beginning to lift from the stern skid plate on the FS. I trimmed off the loose resin flap with a razor blade and recoated that edge with G/flex. I had a little resin left over and recoated the drag-portage wear areas on both bow and stern skid plates.

The Mohawk Odyssey was next. I somehow neglected to add bungee cord to the front thwart of the Odyssey, an omission I forget until the next time I’m paddling that canoe and have no place out of the bilge to secure my sunglasses, hat or pipe.

*The Freedom Solo and Odyssey “skid plates” were an experiment. The last kevlar felt skid plates I installed (and they will be the last I ever install) were on a couple of friend’s RX canoes. We downsized the felt area on the bow of their boats to something more reasonably sized and shaped, and used the excess urethane resin to experiment on the FS and Odyssey.

I love having friends working in the shop, especially when they watch, help and learn, and then tackle the rest on their own.



Sibling communication failures not withstanding



At least they kiss and make up afterward



Installing skid plates on four canoes in simultaneous sequence was necessarily an exercise in expedient efficiency, as the pot life of even half-mixes of the urethane resin was limited.



The Freedom Solo experiment has kevlar felt at one end and dynel at the other.



The Odyssey experiment has dynel at one end and just a (last of the resin, thickening quickly, hurry) layer of urethane resin sans any cloth at the other. After several years of use and abuse all are wearing equally well, even the no-cloth urethane protection.

I am more convinced than ever that resin choice and abrasion resistance is the key to installing skid plates, and that on manufactured kits the kevlar felt is just there as a vehicle to hold the resin. I’ll never use kevlar felt again - dynel cloth, a mix of West 105/206 and G\flex and graphite powder is far cheaper, easier, less obtrusive and more durable.

With two canoes tuned up in short order it was time to stare at the rack and decide what’s next. Eeny, meeny, miny, moe…

The index finger lands on the Malecite.

wow this is so cool to kee charging those little toys.

Powertrekk | A fuel cell charger for instant power anywhere


joco

Or Jeffrey and the wolves.....8o

a solo adventure...???

Queen Elizabeth II Wild Lands Prov. Park.
April 28 – May 3 2012
Saturday morning I was on the water by 9:30 am an it was nice and cool with a gentle breeze coming out of the north and even that died off by the time I was half way across. Even though it is a fairly big lake and the ice has been out since Early March there was not a powerboat to be seen or heard. The birds where active and with the clear skies you could easily see the top of the big ridge to the northwest, a very pleasant way to start the trip. As I was paddling up the Head River towards the first portage the wind picked up pretty good out of the north, so timing was perfect.
My adventure this year was to document the hard way into Jordon Lake, which is just south of Victoria. I had gone into Jordon Lake via the Head River Last fall, so I knew the exit was easy and there was a couple of really nice looking camps sites on the Lake. The trouble with Jordon is it’s close proximity to Wolf/Victoria and the plane traffic one would hear during fishing/hunting season, but that would be strictly a day thing and you could be pretty sure of quiet nights.

http://inlinethumb15.webshots.com/50...600x600Q85.jpg

Also last fall I scouted out the beaver pond access routes where I found that the one on main body of Crooked lake closest to the Crooked lake lodge was out, so that left the pond chain that starts just east of the only good campsite on Crooked lake. Here I met fellow solo paddler Jamie who had already set up camp and we made our tros and then I paddled down to the portage.
The first 25 m is pretty steep but grassy but once on top of the ridgeline it is easy walking. About 50m before the put in there is a bit of a dip with a small beaver pond It gets a little bushy but not too bad.
http://inlinethumb59.webshots.com/47...600x600Q85.jpg
I floated my stuff across to the beaver path that leads to the main dam. On my way through last year, this little pond was dry; the work these beavers do to make this area paddle able for us is amazing. Sometimes the changes are quick, other times it evolves over longer periods of time. I planned to camp on this pond for the night, it is 15km. from where I started on Head Lake.

http://inlinethumb15.webshots.com/50...600x600Q85.jpg

http://inlinethumb39.webshots.com/48...600x600Q85.jpg
The first pond is a large pond with several nice campsites around it, the best way to describe it would be a boomerang shape with a couple of fairly high ridges at the north end. When I hiked up here last year the west side of the connecting canyon started really easy but then got incredibly rough, it was difficult to walk with just a day pack. The east side had a nice smooth incline up to a open ridge and a natural ramp down to the pond, so before I set up camp I decided to hike the carry and see if I wanted to continue, except this year the pond also appears to be out. (insert disappointed profanity here…. ) Since I planned to hike the ridges anyhow I decided to continue to hike up to the next ridge and was happily surprised to see that the pond was only half out. I could see that I could easily paddle to the next 2 ponds.

http://inlinethumb23.webshots.com/50...600x600Q85.jpg
Still the hike up along this ridge was really neat, If the wind is out of the west like it was today the Turkey vultures where soaring off the updrafts off the ridge, and how the glaciers carved out the rock is just so impressive.
http://inlinethumb51.webshots.com/49...600x600Q85.jpg
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After hiking for about an hour I crossed back other to the west side of the pond to set up camp. I started going a little wider from the rough area, but still wasn’t happy so I decided to find out where it would be the easiest to put-in and the next pond and then work backwards. As it worked out it was a great strategy. There was a nice natural rock ramp almost to the water, the ramp led to an open line to the top of the ridge and then there was a gentle incline which led right back to where I set up camp, Bonus!
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As I filled my water bottles I noticed the water for a beaver pond was actually quite clear, and I could see minnows in the water and some small fish about 10cm in size, and then while eating dinner watched an otter swim up just below my tent searching the shore line for food, and yes I had the camera on my lap… I just watched and then I realized I should take a pic…. and it was gone…
The next morning was very cool, weather Network records showed the low in Orillia was -5c and I am sure it was cooler in the back woods. Lots of frost both inside the tent and outside, and I was very glad to have half my winter bag for sleeping. The small water bottle inside the tent was iced up pretty good, the big one outside was pretty solid and my water bucket had about 2cm of ice… but it was very nice to watch the sun rise and warm the area. I sat on top of the ridge above my tent, ate my breakfast and had some coffee while the sun warmed things up, but it was nice having ice water later in the morning on the portages.
Since most of you travel much lighter than me I thought I would time the approx. 400m portage to give you a fair time for a 2 tripper, so 12 min. round trip so 30 min. for a two tripper at a relaxed pace, for me…. a little longer. (I’m no spring chicken anymore)
Even though half this pond is out, (pond # 2) it still has some interesting arms to it that connect to some interesting ridges. Putting the ridge to what you see on google earth is quite fascinating and well worth exploring around.
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The beaver dam that was out has been repaired and it was just a quick 3 m portage to a truly impressive little lake. (pond # 3)
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This is one of the extraordinary beautiful places that can be found in the park, in an area of impressiveness, these are extraordinary! I promised myself if I found one of these areas I would camp there, except even with the hiking I had only be going 1.5 hours so I continued on with my adventure.
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The portage to the next pond (pond # 4) is quite easy. The beaver dam on this next pond is being rebuilt but the lake behind it is almost 1km long, narrow between 2 ridges, and as you head north the ridges increase in size, becoming more imposing.
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Here is the point of Divine intervention on the trip….
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As I was looking at the ridges getting bigger and I wondered what it would be like to do a trip with out the camera, all I can say is be careful what you wish for and I think someone was listening….. I stopped to take some pics of both directions on the lake and the camera started to act up, I get to the portage take my last pic of some bear scrapings and the camera is dead….

Nooooooooooooo! I was just thinking aloud…. I didn’t really mean it! It least not on this trip… I meant a trip from the start with no camera gear….. Adriannnnnnnn! Ok enough of the dramatics, I think the true reason is the curse Lttleredcanoe put on me hoping I would forget my tent poles….Since I didn’t forget them I figured the curse had to move elsewhere. (rest of the pics are cell phone pics )
The next portage is again short and easy, again the pond (pond # 5) is partially out but as you look towards the north you can see the ridges that you will have to cross and it does look intimidating. When you get to the end the take out there is pretty obvious. It is a natural path about 25 m wide and goes right to the top of the ridge and it is wide open until the last 50m where it drops into some sparse bush and to the next pond.
Right across from the take out (east side) the rocks are fractured and broken, there is some clear ground water coming out at a good flow, I would still filter it but at least it is clear of the normal debris one finds in ponds. I do not know how it would flow during a dry summer but defiantly a good find.
Portage Pond 5 to pond 6
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Bear scrapings and the point of divine intervention…
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(only a couple of cell phone pics from here….)
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The next pond (# 6) is quite large with a very neat irregular shape. The pond level is at least 2 ft down from a high water mark, but a paddle around the pond shows that the dam is under new management and the levels are building back up.
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If I had tried this route last year it would have been even lower, there are full-grown ferns underwater now showing how much the water has risen.
I was going to try and squeeze a couple more ponds in and try and make Jordon Lake. By using google earth and the “Its” (invasive species tracking system) satilite images I figured I had 2 possible choices, the first would have been the shortest had this pond been in fully but the bush would take some serious clearing to make it and you could not see the next pond though it. The other you had to zig zag to connect some ridges so a 150m guess becomes a 300m walk to a completely empty muddy pit.
So at this point I decide to go back and camp at the last pond and go over my maps and Sat. images and figure what I would do next. And as much shoreline that that pond had there was only one good campsite and that was on an island just off from where I finished the last portage. (approx 50m x 25m) In the middle between two rocky knolls there was actually enough soil to put the tent pegs in plus 2 or 3 more tents and this choice of sites had some other “plus’ points for what would happen later that evening.
After I got the tent up I had a coffee and did some measuring and was a little disappointed at what I faced, being solo and a few years short of being a spring chicken I had some decisions to make, but first a nice nap in the sun to think things over.
One option bushwhack distance “X” along my original planned route.
Option #2 back track a bit to the long lake and half way down try jumping over to another string of ponds.
Options # 3 choose a route that would accomplish most your goals.
One top goal was to hike the high ridge on the east side of Jordon lake, and with out a doubt the pond I was on was the easiest, and two If I found a really special gem of a camp site to spend at least a night there, and not to overdo the effort so that the trip is not enjoyable. So option 3 it was stay a day and go hiking up the ridge and then backtrack to that neat little lake and camp there.
There is a lot of firewood close to the island and more than enough on the island from dead trees from beavers past projects. The area in the middle of the island where the tent was had dried grasses and ferns so I did not want place my fire near it, but there is flat spots on either rocky knoll where you could have a fire and still have a comfy place to sit and enjoy the view and a very nice sunset, but not suspecting that there was going to be some “entertainment” later on ….
Sun set looking north-east towards beaver dam.
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(Just a point of interest here before we get on to the story, my job as a mail carrier has given my the “opportunity” to be attacked by a variety of dogs, including a pit bull and that would be because the owners where… and in 27 years out there and no bites….but there has been some chewed mail….)
Over view
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I heard wolves calling off in the distance the first night so I fully expected to hear them again. So the distances on this google map are straight line. Just before dusk I heard the first call well off in the distance to the north, the answering call was much closer just in the woods down below the main beaver dam that would be # 1 on the map. There was also some minor yapping with the howl there suggesting that this was the area of the main pack. No problem what a beautiful loud sound and still some good distance away, and I am on an island.
Half an hour later it is completely dark with a clear sky and the moon just over half full when another howl is let go from position #1, this time the howl coming back from the north is a little closer but still far a way, but this time there is another answering call from position #4, still some good distance, still beautiful to hear and I am on an island.
Another 15/20mins. later the wolf that howled from position #1 howled from position #2 (yes you can recognize their voices… they are very distinct) there was an answer from position # 4, then two wolves howled from position #2 with another answer from position #4. So they had my attention now, I know they are moving but I am on an island…..
Another10/15 mins. pass and the main wolf howls again, this time from position # 3, this time the answering howl is right behind me from position #5 and the hair on the back of my neck stands up, Two wolves howl together again from position # 3 and then there is a whole chorus of howls, yelps and barks from the bush line from position #5, okayyyyyyyy……. so I am now completely out of my comfort zone, I have a nice sized fire going so they can see me clearly and I calmly ( Yeah, right…. ) reach into my pocket for my bear bangers and pen launcher, load, aim almost straight up towards what I thought was the middle between the two groups and fired, and it was returned with quiet.
Having the fire on the rocky knoll closest to the land was a good idea, as accidental as that decision was, I only needed a medium size fire to light up the two closest shores to the island and if they where going to approach closer that is the way they would come. So I started to noisily chop some wood to keep the fire going, but it was quiet and I was on an island.
From Point # 5 looking at the island.

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Soon the frogs and night birds where making their calls again and I relaxed, and shortly after that the main wolf howled from position #1 again and it was answered with a short howl and some minor yapping from one of the side canyons in and around #4 so all was good, the beaver had now joined the chorus in its traditional way swimming around the island letting the world know I was there, on the island. After a while I let the fire die down and out and surprising I had a great sleep that night.
The next morning I awoke with no changes in plan, it was dark and gray with a fairly low cloud cover. Breakfast, coffee sit and watch the world, packed a daypack and paddled over to the start of the ridgeline. It is incredibly easy hiking up the ridge, it is pretty steep but the bare rock paths are easy to follow. Once on top you are rewarded with a great view, even with the cloud cover. You can easily make out the different lookouts all the way to Head Lake. I would spend more time here on the way back with the maps, I wanted to get above Jordon Lake incase the weather turned wet. There are a couple of minor ups and downs but nothing hard. Walking along the ridgeline along the Jordon Lake side you soon realize how little justice the topo’s and sata. Images do for this area. It is more than steep in most areas, cliffs would describe most of it but there are paths in the rock that lead down. From up here I can see that the short pond system on Jordon Lake east side is in so you could pretty well paddle up to the bottom of the ridge. When you get to the high point again the view is terrific! I sat there with my legs hanging over the edge eating gorp, having some water and drinking up the view. Here there is a major dip in he ridgeline, it is a steep decent into thick bush before it rises equally quick to bare rock on the northeast side of the lake. I didn’t hike over but you could tell that if the leaves where in you would need to take some serious bearings. (or if your into gps you can watch your tiny screen…. Me I like to watch where I am going and remember the landmarks…) On the way back I wondered all over the ridge looking for anything really interesting, lots of neat little bogs, cuts in the rocks veins of quartz. I didn’t see any critter droppings but with the wolf activity in the area it is understandable.
Jordon Lake.

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At the south end of the ridge there is this neat knob that was left as the glaciers retreated and it made for a great table to pull out the maps and compass and confirm the locations of the distant ridges.

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It was starting to get misty now so I headed back down to the boat and go for a coffee. There was a cool stiff breeze out of the east with a little more rain so I retired with coffee to the tent for some reading. It didn’t rain really hard put it was enough to make the shallow soil wet, because of the wind a fire on top of the rock would bring any enjoyment, but since it was now wet enough I could build a fire on a flat rock by the water edge without worrying about catching the ground cover on fire. The shape of the island blocked the wind nicely so it was very comfortable eating dinner by the fire. That night with a low cloud cover I only heard the wolves call once, the main voice from site # 1 and the answer from Area #4, with some side yapping but a neat echo from being in one of the little canyons.
The next morning started off cool but quickly warmed up, but the time I was packed up I was down to just my white turtleneck “T” shirt. With a 25 m paddle from my Island sanctuary to the portage it was time to move, at least this way most of the portage is downhill. I wasn’t in a hurry because I would not be traveling too far today so it was very nice to go for a slow float just enjoying being out there. At the south end of the really long narrow lake it was neat to see that the beaver was keeping up with the water flowing in, the lake level was up about 10cm (4”) from 2 days ago. Where I had put in was now under water.
Now on the neat little lake I float around looking for the easiest place to land on the peninsula that dominates the middle of this lake. There are several spots both in the trees and in the open, depending on the conditions you may find yourself in. I chose the middle there was a good breeze and the bugs where now making a serious appearance. It was partly sunny with a good breeze so it was a good time to dry the dampness out of the sleeping bag. Made myself some coffee (gee there seems to be a theme here, rest and coffee….) and get to listen to one of natures wonders, the forest coming alive. I have heard it a few times before where all the bugs coming out sound like a machine in the woods, it truly is amazing, especially since they are not biting yet.
As I said earlier there are just a few really neat spots in this park, this is one of them. Only those that are willing to do a little work will come, it is far enough from the bigger lakes you will not get the boat or plane traffic and no signs of atv trails at all. There where signs of deer, moose, deer, wide variety of birds, including Whippoorwills and with the depth of this lake I would suspect on a normal summer it would be swimmable. The only downside if you had to name one would be lack of firewood on the peninsula. Lots of pine branches if you have a stick stove, but that’s about it, but with a canoe in hand it is still easy to get. But everything else, about 17 km of paddling from my starting point in Head Lake, 6 portages only (one hard 2 med) and one pull over, and 2 hours from Toronto…. And the feeling of being a million miles away… J
I was only going to go to the campsite on Crooked Lake site and it was a good choice. The day was sunny and warm with a nice breeze the bugs where starting to bite but not in hordes yet. I got set up and boiled some water for some personal hygiene maintenance (sponge bath and hair wash) It was time for coffee and then I went for a little paddle around Crooked with out gear in the boat. The weather was closing in fast soI turned on my radio to get a weather report and they said there was little chance for a thunderstorm in the area, but the static on the am band said different. I got a quick supper going and by the time it was ready to eat the storm was upon me. It rained hard for 3 hours. So I poured a mug of white wine and sat in the tent to enjoy my last night out in the park. When it finally eased up at dusk I got a fire going. A little more whippoorwill activity here but nothing compared to other years. This bird is a species at risk Ontario's Biodiversity: Species at Risk but with what has happened with our Prov. and Fed governments gutting protection in the budget bills I find this statement a bit oxymoronic,
Quote” The Whip-poor-will is a threatened species and receives automatic species protection under Ontario’s Endangered Species Act, 2007. General habitat protection also protects the species’ habitat from damage and destruction. A recovery strategy and a species-specific habitat regulation are being developed.

The Whip-poor-will was assessed as a threatened species nationally by the Committee on the Status of Endangered Wildlife in Canada (COSEWIC).

For more information on the Whip-poor-will and how you can help this species…..” unquote.
L
But it is still great to be out here in the woods.
The fog and the mist at dusk made of a neat optical illusion.
Guardian of the Crooked Lake Camp site.

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Next morning was damp and grey, a little cool even and the bugs where biting, but still in the tolerable range. The portage at Crooked to Long lake is usually the place the bugs really swarm and hardly a black fly in sight until I wondered where they where and wham! As soon as I started to load the boat they made their attack!
So I quickly paddled towards the opening to the lake and paused to get a drink of water when over the ridge on the east side of the lake walked a momma bear and two cubs, and all looked healthy and well fed. It is pretty narrow and shallow at this end of Long Lake I was sitting on the bottom about 50m from them and really wish I had a camera… oh yeah the cell phone camera, but in my haste to get away from the bugs I through it in the end of the canoe out of my reach.
The mother just sat on her backs watching me and then as I tried to reach for my phone she stood up on her hind legs, the one cub mimicked her and the other does as all little ones do, play with something on the rocks…then she turned and ran. It was fantastic to watch from about 50m away, happy with what I saw, sad for not having a camera shot of it.
The rest of the paddle was quiet, still didn’t see anyone all the way back to the truck, except for the 2 loons that stayed close for the paddle to the north shore. I took the long way back that way because the forecast had been for chance of thunderstorms, but nothing materialized.
All in all a good trip and great experience. I am getting better at going with the flow. Good to see more people interested in the area.
Jeff
PS. Oh yeah, Littleredcanoe I did forget something……
My belt to hold up my knife and bear spray…….
But I was able to improvise with a cheap tie down strap, and it actually worked better than the belt.
Full album.
Webshots, the best outdoor photos!

Dismal & Hawk Ponds
May 4-7 2012
Paul Conklin (Curtis Mayfly)
Photos: https://picasaweb.google.com/conk46e...ismalHawkPonds

Teacher, mentor and friend, Wes Hammond, started taking me on trips to the Adirondacks in the summer of 1971. These were usually backpacking trips but sometimes a 15-foot Grumman was involved. The canoe gave added adventure to a journey and a reason to explore nearby bodies of water. As a result I amassed a list of visited ponds, but at 55 pounds I never gave serious thought to schlepping the canoe to any of the more remote ponds.

A quest for new adventure shifted my interest to the mountains of the High Peaks, ten years and 46 summits later I was again in need of purposeful Adirondack exploits. By this time I had obtained my first solo canoe and lakes and rivers were quenching my adventure thirst. The modern solo canoe is considerably lighter than the Grumman I was raised on; the burden of toting a canoe into the woods became a doable prospect. I had read in one of William Harlow’s journals that he once set a goal of hiking to each of the ponds in the Cranberry region over the course of a summer, I adopted this notion but would allow myself a lifetime. By my count there are approximately 100 significant bodies of water that lie within the boundaries of the Five Ponds Wilderness. Forty years of exploration in the region have gotten me to 66 of them. I have what remains of my waning lifespan to visit 34 shorelines.

A while back I wrote a report about a trip in the SW corner of the Five Ponds. I remember lauding the weight savings of my newest canoe and equipment. I am in the same situation a year later but with yet a smaller canoe and more new equipment. This year’s gear weight savings totaled about 9 lbs. The total weight of my burden (all that is with me sans my naked body) did not equal the mass of the Grumman canoe that first hooked me on the idea of pond hopping… and that Grumman was considered a lightweight!

My trip began with a leisurely drive along Lake Ontario’s southern shore. I made stops at a Paddling Center to check out their canoe inventory (rather disappointing) and at the Derby Hill Bird Observatory, knowing that spring migration should be in full swing. Here too I was disappointed but I must admit that I did not give my bird watching deserving diligence. I cannot explain the canoe inventory, perhaps, like the birds the new hulls are still in transit.

I arrived in the village of Stillwater by mid afternoon. The plan was to begin my adventure the next morning; there was ample time for a paddle on the reservoir. I scouted the Shallow Pond Carry at Kettle Hole (site #1) that I would be using in the morning. I informed the folks camped there that I would be making an early morning intrusion through their camp and that they shouldn’t be alarmed. They were a good group of fellows from Cheektowaga New York. They were in the midst of an annual male bonding ritual. Their wilderness campout was practice for the home game gatherings in the parking lot of the Ralph. There was comfort in knowing I shared the woods with fellow fans of the Buffalo Bills.

Later that evening in the parking lot of the boat launch a barking Jack-Russell Terrier drew Ranger Luke Evens from his abode in an attempt to silence the K-9. It became an opportunity to reacquaint and discuss my planned itinerary; it’s always nice to leave a verbal float plan with someone who knows the area. The ranger would likely be the individual looking for my corpse should I not return; another comforting thought, as I’m not sure I could count on the folks back home to find me.

I spent the night in the parking lot on the Necessary Dam Road. I could have left my truck there and made a short carry around the dam but opted instead to drive to Stillwater where the truck would have the surveillance of the cameras on the Stillwater Shop; my adventure was underway by 5am. My Bills Brothers were still asleep when I walked behind their camp. The portage trail was free of obstructions thanks to ranger Evens and the work crew who were through the trail just days before. The carry to Shallow seemed shorter than the posted 1-mile distance. I paddled through Shallow and Raven. A precarious double-crossing of Lyons outlet interrupted the next .6-mile carry but my feet remained dry. I spent little time dallying, as it was my goal to reach Dismal Pond before nightfall.

Lyon was a mile long lake followed by another .6-mile carry to Bear Pond. I went through the south end of Bear and into nearby Diana Pond where I paused to eat the first of the sandwiches my wife had packed for me; it was egg salad with olive on Monk’s Sunflower bread. I live in a community that is home to a group of Trappist Monks. They bake bread three days a week and it is available, warm from the oven, if you happen to live down the street. I thought for a moment of brother James who works in the bakery. I wondered if my passion to solo tripping could in anyway compare to his calling to the monastic lifestyle. My introspective moment lasted about as long as the egg salad sandwich and I was on my way.

From Diana I set the compass for a SE heading and began the bushwhack to Huckleberry Pond. I had made this trek before so the ground was familiar and I knew the path of least resistance. East of Huckleberry the land was not so familiar. I encountered some of the toughest real estate I’ve ever traversed. John Riggins or Larry Csonka never fought as hard for 20 yards. A dense thicket of Balsam and Spruce would not let me enter. There simply wasn’t enough room for my girth. I solved the dilemma by turning the canoe on its side and shoving it from behind. I eventually emerged into a grassy clearing with a countenance of joy on my face, along with sweat, blood and balsam sap. The worst was over, another ¼ mile and I entered a large beaver meadow. I anticipated a soggy walk so sat down and swapped my hiking boots for water shoes. I ate my second sandwich before proceeding; peanut butter and sharp cheddar cheese with a thick slice of onion, a savory taste I inherited from my father.

To the north of the meadow I found a large beaver dam, above it the channel was wide and clear, the kind of setting that made the difficult bushwhack more than worthwhile. I paddled in blissful silence until a low flying floatplane came from the west. The pilot detected me and banked his plane to a steep angle and flew a circle around me. I raised my paddle in acknowledgement but really wished he hadn’t disturbed my experience. Aircraft and satellites are always a reminder of the world from which we come when traveling in the wild.

I had a couple more beaver dams to cross and one short bushwhack before I arrived at the southern most tip of Dismal Pond. At first sight I had to wonder how Dismal got its name because it was anything but. An irregular shoreline diverse in vegetative life, there were numerous bays and peninsulas in and around which to explore. On one point stood a towering White Pine whose massive trunk split 60 feet above the ground into a wishbone like vee. I imagined it to be the slingshot of a giant. There were several rock islands; one was perfect for evening star gazing. I made a slow circumnavigation of the pond with an eye to the shoreline looking for a convenient place to land. A beaver canal took me to dry ground in the eastern most bay. High up the bank on the hillside I found two trees from which to hang my hammock, there was a fallen log nearby to function as both a table and chair. My camp was the perfect launching point for the next days bushwhack to Hawk Pond.

With all of my camp chores complete I returned to the canoe for more exploration of Dismal. The evening sun provided wonderful photographic opportunities. I shared the pond with several species of waterfowl; the ones identifiable without optical assistance were Goldeneye, Woodduck, Hooded Merganser and Canada Goose. One day I will invest in a pair of quality lightweight binoculars. I stopped at my star gazing granite island where I tested the comfort of a natural chair created by a split in the rock. It was just right and oriented its occupant to the eastern horizon. It would be the night of a full moon, the sky was clear and I anticipated a wonderful evening of gazing, but still hours from sundown I returned to camp to cook supper.

After supper the fatigue of a long day forced me to retreat to the comfort of the hammock. I knew that sleep would likely ensue but I also knew that my bladder would not hold till daylight. A midnight pee break would be my wake-up call to paddle to the island. On schedule I found myself standing several feet from camp at about 1:30 pm. The moon was bright and full, a Barred Owl called in the distance. The deciduous trees under which I was standing had not yet budded and hence the view to the heavens was pretty darn good. I deemed an extended period of urination a sufficient star gazing moment and returned to the warmth of the hammock.

I slept well through the second half of the night and awoke at 6 o’clock. I prepared a pack and was off for a bushwhack to the environs of Hawk Pond. I elected to make this trip without the canoe; if something demanded exploration by water I could always return for the boat. The route was due east, an easy course to follow in the morning, just walk towards the sun. The early springtime is an excellent time for trail less trekking. Like the stars that night had proved vision through the trees is at its best, the lay of the land is more discernable. Best of all the leaves of the hobblebush, which get to be over 3 inches in diameter, do not obscure one’s footing. The emerging leaves I encountered were about the size of my thumb.

I passed through a notch between two knolls and descended through some Hemlocks where I took a seat by the edge of the pond. The sun felt warm and welcoming. Shimmers of light bounced off the rippled water casting a hypnotic, rhythmic show of light in the shadow of the Hemlocks behind me. My right hand gave the left a congratulatory high five for having bagged another Adirondack pond. While I sat there quietly a beaver, two mallards and a male Hooded Merganser swam by closely. The hoodie was doing an Egyptian head bob as he swam back n forth, his crest fully deployed. My guess is he wasn’t too pleased with my presence or perhaps there was a female near by whom he wanted to impress. At any rate I took leave and began to follow the outlet of Hawk. There was an unnamed pond to the south through which it flowed. It could possibly have significance. I came upon a beaver meadow that had a similar shape to the pond on the map and determined that it had lost its significance and removed it from my list.

I returned to Hawk on the opposite side of the outlet. Rather than cross back to the west side I committed to a counter clockwise circumnavigation of the pond. This proved to be an arduous task, especially on the northern end where I had to travel quite some distance in order to safely cross its inlet. Three hours later I was back in the cluster of Hemlocks that first welcomed me to Hawk. It was close to lunchtime so I boiled water for soup and made a tuna and gouda wrap. On the journey back to Dismal I took my time and made frequent stops to simply sit and observe. Even without binoculars I identified six species of Warblers.

Back at camp I rested in the sun making notes in my journal, sipping rum and smoking a bowl. By mid afternoon I was back on Dismal, this time making walking explorations from its shore. The evening hours on the pond again proved to be a magical time, while peacefully floating I resumed my introspective examination of my thoughts and feelings. It took much longer this time not having an egg salad sandwich to distract my attention. I was ready for the hammock by 7 o’clock.

I was up at five, decamped and soon ready to depart. My way back would retrace the same path I took to get there. Not yet sure how far I would go or where I would camp, I only knew it was Monday, I had no commitments till Thursday and there were still ponds on my list. I traveled down Dismal’s outlet to the large beaver dam where I had bushwhacked from Huckleberry. Off to the east was another unnamed pond. I will call it 611 from its elevation above sea level. On the map it looked a bit like a tadpole, bulbous on one end with a long skinny tail. I parked the canoe and slogged off in the direction of 611. I placed the map on a log to take a bearing, while orienting to north I saw that I shared the log with a snake that apparently had just eaten. He was much thicker in the middle than at the ends. I thought him rather sluggish and reached for my camera. Just before it focused he showed me how sluggish he was and quickly slithered off into the grass. I was soon at the shore of 611. Dead trees ringed it. The water level had certainly been higher at one time but out in the main body there was still a good volume. I deemed it significant and it remains on my list. In the muck along the shore I saw the first hoof print of a moose for the trip, I left a size 10 imprint of a Chota mukluk next to it.

Back at the canoe I readied my gear for the battle to Huckleberry. I stayed further to the south to avoid the balsam thickets. It did help some and I was soon back to the normal stumble and bumble for the remaining bushwhacks. I took more time to dally on the way out because I had decided to return to the truck that evening. I could organize my gear for a day trip assault on Slim and Evergreen Ponds. It would save time for exploring because there would be no camp to break and I would be traveling with a much lighter load.

My longest dally on the trip out was a jaunt on the yellow blazed trail NE from Raven to Muskrat. I followed it to a point half way down the east side of Muskrat before turning back. I don’t know how far it goes or where it ends.

There was a strong wind out of the SW when I reached the reservoir. It demanded my full attention on the paddle out from Kettle Hole or at least until I reached the lee side of the big island north of Stillwater. I returned to my roadside camp and prepared a pack for the next day’s adventure to Evergreen Lake.

Sometime in the night it started to rain; it was a steady drizzle. In the morning I lingered about the village of Stillwater thinking it might let up but it only intensified. The radio reports called for potential thunderstorms so my Slim and Evergreen plans were put on hold and I hit the road for the Genesee Valley.

Janes Island and Tangier Sound (the western side of the eastern shore of Maryland), and the Black and South Rivers on the North Carolina coastal plain.

Slideshow of pictures, photos, and videos, from webshots