Steve Parrish

At a recent checkup, my dentist said "I suppose about now is when you stop your paddling activities until next spring?" Without even thinking about it, my reply is "No, this is when the FUN starts!"

In central Iowa, there truly is an opportunity to stay involved in paddling sports throughout the winter. Below are some ideas on how you stay active with paddling, and how these activities can help you avoid the winter blues.

LEARN:

During the summer, most of us are so busy paddling that we don't have much time to be students of paddling. The winter is a great time to refresh or increase our knowledge about paddling. There are many ways to accomplish this enjoyable task:

• READ: in the last few weeks I've read a couple of books that have me inspired to do more and learn more about the water. Sarah/Sara, by Jacob Paul is a fascinating novel about a young woman's solo kayak adventure along the coast of Alaska. I won't give away anything more than to say it is a very different way of looking at why people paddle. And then, I just finished reading a classic: Life on the Mississippi by Mark Twain. After working through his caustic, amusing and infuriating comments about his interaction with the Mississippi, I'm inspired to drag my boat out there and paddle a stretch of the "Might Missisip"  
• ATTEND: Paddlers don't stop talking paddling just because the water starts freezing. CIP has a winter schedule of Armchair Paddling events. This is a great opportunity to learn new ideas and see fellow paddlers. Come February, Canoe Sport Outfitters will have its annual Expo. A long time ago, I bought my first kayak in October. I went to the CSO Expo the next February and attended a session on "Winter Paddling" by Gerry Rowland. It inspired me to stay active with paddling in the winter ever since.

PREPARE:

Winter is the perfect time for pool sessions. ISU and other venues offer sessions where people can work on rescues and rolls. In the past, we've had success talking local YMCAs into allowing us to bring our (cleaned) boats for practice sessions. Warm water, no mud ... frankly, it beats practicing in the summer!

DREAM:

The last two years, I've attended CanoeCopia in Madison in March. I go in part to look at the neat toys and listen to the captivating lectures. But my main takeaway is dreams. Getting away from it all, particularly if you're with paddling buddies, is a way to mentally gear up and get excited for the summer.

PLAN:

During group events in the summer, I invariably have someone tell me they wished they had the "guts" to go on one of the bigger paddling trips many of us take. It's not really a matter of guts; it's a matter of planning. These trips are thought up, laid out, and prepared for in the winter. Our summer circumnavigation of Isle Royale in 2010 kept us warm the whole winter before we took that trip. People needed to agree on dates, so that they could tell family and employers. The team had to determine the gear needed, the skills to work on, the budget, the ferry tickets ... the plan. I take at least two big paddling trips each summer. I prepare and plan for them the winter before.

PADDLE:

Who says you can't paddle in the winter? Granted, you must take far more precautions in preparing for winter paddling, but there are plenty of opportunities to enjoy open waters in Central Iowa. Be ready for the 7th Annual New Years Day float. Consider joining the crazies for the Waffle Float. Like many of us, make a goal to paddle somewhere every month of the year. Buy a wetsuit and you'll feel financially obligated to paddle in the winter. Bottom line: you'll figure out how to paddle in the winter if you WANT to paddle in the winter. I look forward to the unobstructed view of eagles; the incredible bouncing of sound against ice and snow; the solitude of having the river to myself; the sense of accomplishment in getting out of the armchair and into the blue waters.  

In mid-October, four CIP members traveled to southern Missouri to experience several of the area's finest streams. On Thursday, three of us paddled Bryant Creek for seven miles from the Hodgson Mill to the Warren bridge. The area was quite rugged with many winding turns and high cliffs lining the creek. Hodgson Mill is now a museum, but the spring that powered the mill pours 24 million gallons a day into the creek which is usually floatable from this point to its end in the Norfolk Reservoir. The creek was quite clear and scenic. The sun was shining, but the wind occasionally blew us off course.

Friday, four of us paddled the North Fork of the White River from the Highway CC bridge to the Blair bridge access, a distance of ten miles. The river was lower than normal that far upstream so we had to pick our way carefully through the first four miles around gravel bars and through riffles with paddlers occasionally scraping the bottom of their boats in the shallow riffles. The water was extremely clear, and we could see many fish on the bottom of the river in some of the long pools. This part of the stream is in the Mark Twain National Forest, and is more remote than the lower part of the river. At lunch time, we were on an unusual gravel bar that had water running out of it from almost all directions into the river. I've had lunch on this gravel bar before, but the water from the spring was much more extensive than on previous trips. It was so extensive that we had to be careful where we sat in order to stay dry.

About 100 yards downstream from our lunch spot, Rainbow Spring entered the river and added 137 million gallons of water a day to the river. This water increased the flow of the river enough to reduce chances of scraping in the riffles and small rapids considerably. A dam has been constructed to form a large lagoon which serves as a private fish hatchery. The river also seems to be stocked with trout below this point because there were signs requiring a special trout stamp for fishing, and we saw lots of people with fly rods trying to catch trout. Below the McKee bridge (a private road and bridge), we encountered a 2-3 foot ledge across the river known as the Falls. There are two eroded breaks on the right center part of the ledge which funnel the flow of water to allow passage without getting stuck on top of the ledge. All the boaters paddled through the openings in the ledge without incident.   At mile ten, we paddled under the new Blair bridge which replaced a dangerous low water bridge that had the ability to pin boats and people at certain water levels. (The old bridge was a mandatory portage). Just below the new bridge are some concrete bridge piers which are the remains of an even older bridge. The current flows through these piers, and at low water presents a challenge because the piers are close together. At high water, the piers are covered. All the paddlers found a route through the piers. Just downstream the access is on river left across from a beautiful cliff.

On Saturday, another sunny day, the four of us paddled eight miles from the Blair access to the Dawt Mill. The river continued its pattern of long pools separated by small riffles and small rapids. At mile three, Althea Spring added some more water to the much improved flow of the river. The take out is an unusual place called Dawt Mill. A dam backs up the river, some of which flows through a mill race to turn the wheels of the mill. For many years, paddlers could take out there, tour the mill, watch the mill grind the flour, and buy some homemade bread. Now the mill is no longer operational and has become a bit of a tourist trap with a lodge, cabins, campground, and canoe rentals. There is a large concrete ramp on river left just above the dam where most canoes take out. There is a charge for private boaters to take out at the private landing and another charge to park on Mill property. Two of our group chose to take out at this private landing. The other two paddlers portaged the dam on river right and ran through some fast water past the mill and under a small bridge to a free take out on public land by the bridge opposite the mill property.

It is possible to paddle another 2.5 miles to Norfolk lake but you have to paddle all the way through the backwaters of the lake to reach the take out ramp. In the spring and early summer when there is more water, it is possible to paddle the upper 29 miles of the North Fork river which is more remote and located in the Mark Twain National Forest.

We camped four nights at Riverside Campground which also rents canoes and can provide shuttles. Our campsite and fire ring was just above the river with a small rapid providing great background noise for the campfire and sleeping.

Description:               

The route follows the Winisk Wild River Provincial from Webeque to Peawanuck,

Dennis, Peter, and Jerry

Both the put in and take out are accessible only by air. We chose to fly out of Pickle Lake, Ontario. The hard surface road ends at Pickle Lake. My trip began with a nine hour drive from Waterloo, Iowa to Cook, MN. Dennis Molln and I spent the night with our two Minnesota partners, Dennis Peterson and Jerry Storm. We drove eight hours north to Pickle Lake, Ontario's Last Frontier, from Cook, MN through International Falls, MN on July 11, 2012. Final leg of our drive was on Highway 599. Highway 599 is long and twisting trip through the boreal forest of Northern Ontario. We saw more black bears than on-coming vehicles.

We had heard reports of dry weather and forest fires. When we arrived we learned that power to Pickle Lake had been cut by a fire to the west. This same fire had threatened to cut off Hwy 599 earlier in the summer. The fire had burned out several kilometers of power transmission lines. We were surrounded by the hum of generators and the smell of smoke. As one local put, "Welcome to Beirut!", a reference to living in a war zone. Fire would become a constant theme for the rest of the trip.

We stayed at Lynn Cox's Bed & Breakfast in Pickle Lake. The town was a beehive of activity with fire crews, gold miners, fiber optic crews and power line crews all competing for rooms and meals in a town with only one motel and restaurant. We settled in and tried to get to know our fellow travelers, as the sun faded into a fire enhanced red glow. Lynn took time from her hectic day to share her extensive knowledge of the Winisk River by flashlight. Lynn's notes and stories from previous trips filled the information gap and provided critical details. This information helped us make crucial decisions later in the trip. We greatly appreciated Lynn taking the time to "show us the way".

Day 1 - July 12, 2011 (11 miles)

The next day we did the best we could to make coffee and eat breakfast in a house powered by a generator. At 6:00 am we started to load up for the drive to the airport. We were interrupted by our pilot who stop by and told us have another cup of coffee and wait for the cloud cover to lift. We waited until 7:00 and then drove to the airport. We hung around in the North Star office until our pilot, Andrew, told us to go into town and get a real breakfast. The ceiling was still too low.  

We pulled into the Winston Motor Lodge & Restaurant and joined the fire crews, gold miners and line crews waiting for breakfast. With a generator roaring in the background, the waitress told us the menu: eggs, sausage and toast. We could have the eggs over-easy or hard, and sausage or bacon with white bread toast. There were plenty of cereal choices, but milk had been sitting in the refrigerator for two days without power. She did not recommend the milk.

With smoke hanging in the air, we drove back to the airport. It was not hard to fall asleep in the corner waiting for the ceiling to lift. Finally, Andrew said it was time to give it a try. We loaded up and roared down the runway. As we circled low over Pickle Lake we could see active fires and burned forest all around the town. I could see a "winter road" heading northeast and the power line running to the west. The tree branches kept getting bigger and bigger as the cloud cover continued to push us lower and lower.

Finally, our Otter banked hard and changed direction. Soon we were seeing power lines, a school bus and the Pickle Lake water tower. We landed and Andrew apologized. The ceiling was too low and he was tired of chasing squirrels through the trees. We had been "hooped", which means we were screwed by the weather.

A couple of hours later we roared down the runway and headed north for the second time. I could still see the waves on the lakes and count the pine cones but we kept flying this time. It took about an hour and half to land at Webeque.   The airstrip and the community of 600 sits on a narrow island in Winisk Lake. We climbed out and were greeted by a "wolf" like dog with the mange. We stumbled over to the edge of the runway to relieve ourselves. When we turned around, a pickup pulling a low trailer had pulled up and our stuff was being loaded for the trip down to the dock.

Several other trucks joined our convey looking for gear to haul. By the time we reached the dock at least a dozen locals had arrived to help unload our canoes and packs. As we were loading our canoes at the dock, two planes landed on the lake and proceeded to tie up at the dock. As we pulled away, one of the planes took off behind us. Our exit from the Webeque was chaotic at best. When we asked how many canoe groups had come through this year, we were told we were the first canoes this summer.

Finally, we cleared the dock and started paddling north. We worked our way past the village and out into the lake. About four miles later we stopped at Lynx Skin Channel for a late lunch. The 1999 report described the site as "filthy, strewn with garbage". We found some plastic but the site was fairly clean. We pressed on to mile 9.5 and the first whitewater. By now we were mentally and physically running on low so we chose to camp at the top of the portage. The site was covered in thick grass. It did not look like anyone had camp there in quite a while.

Day 2 - July 13, 2011 (17 miles)

We scouted the rapids the next morning and decided to run it tight on the left. As always the first white water is nerve wracking. Nobody is truly ready to make the transition from flat water to whitewater. From here to Muskeg Rapids we passed through a series of fast water and low rapids. I barely notice Muskeg Rapids on our way to Bearhead Lake. We stopped for lunch at the cabins at Bearhead Camp. We found some "recent" beer cans in the back of the Cook Cabin, but other wise the grass was lush and the site looked unused.

We had been warned about how difficult and confusing Bear Head Rapids could be to navigate. The 1999 report described it as, "rocks and waves all over, with a few large islands thrown in to make things interesting". The 1999 group could not find the portage and end up going through this monster rapids by mistake. Thus, we approached this maize of water and rocks very cautiously.

The water was low so the current was greatly reduced and we were seeing rocks and islands that were not on our maps. This only made wayfinding even more difficult. We bounced from rock to rock weaving our way toward the ever increasing noise of a Class IV rapids. By shear blind luck we found an eddy just above a "small" waterfall and went ashore.

As Dennis and I were looking for a way to line or carry around this drop, Pete and Jerry showed up at the bottom of the rapids. They had found a "Log Portage" and followed it down the hill.   The portage was actually a series of logs designed to allow big freight canoes to be dragged across the portage. There was even a wrench at the top of the hill! I could never explain to someone else how to find this portage. Good luck, you are going to need it!

We dragged our loaded canoes down the logs and paddled over to get a look at Bear Head Rapids. It is a monster even at low water levels. We spent a fair amount of time just climbing up and down the sides trying to figure out how the 1999 group got through. It really is a pretty straight shot, but the standing waves are HUGE! A well packed canoe, with a spray skirt and experienced paddlers could run this beast, but you would be under water most of the way! The 1999 trip report does a very good job of describing how this feels.

Following Lynn's advice, we paddled through Axe Hand Lake to find a campsite on river left in Round Stone Lake. Her notes call this a "great site, roomy, on a rock outcrop with a place to swim and fish". It really was one of the best sites we camped on during the trip. Dennis proceeded to catch and lose a series of Northerns. Smoke continues to blow in from the fires out west creating another red sunset.

Day 3 - July 14, 2011 (17 miles)  

We passed through a series of short fast runs as we worked our way north to Weir Lake. Wye Rapids was really a series of confusing small CIs, islands and rock gardens that were really fun to run. They forced us to move back and forth cross the channel to stay in the line. I have a very vivid memory of swirling water, wet rocks, and bright green trees mixed with the occasional eagle perched in a tree.

At the end of this run, down the Wye Rapids we came into Rough Moss Lake. The 1999 trip report indicated that they could not find the portage around First Big Rapid, at mile 43, on river left and were forced to run the rapids. Lynn's map indicates that this rapids is "big & scary". Pete's brother in-law had run the river many years ago and he indicated that the Round Channel that ran down river right was the way to go. Thus, we went river right at the end of Rough Moss Lake and into the Round Channel.

This turned out to be a highlight of the trip for me. We ran an amazing series of CIs and CIIs that all blurred together. All of these runs were very manageable, but we never knew what to expect around each turn. If I could have hired a helicopter to take me back to Rough Moss Lake, I would still be running this series. According to Pete, "it was better than an Iowa waterpark!" With higher water levels, the CIIs might have become CIIIs.   However, at low water, I can not imagine why anyone would not go this way.

When the Round Channel rejoined the main flow we immediately started to look for a campsite before we hit Portage Rapid at mile 48.5. The fast flow made it hard to stop and look for a decent site. We knew that Portage Rapids was something we wanted to tackle at the start of the next day not at the end of this day. We finally were able to eddy out on river left, just upstream from Portage Rapids and started searching the shore line for campsite. Dennis beat his way through the bush until he saw a rock ledge down stream at the next eddy.

This rock outcrop was an established campsite with old tables and fire rings. It turned out to be the second best site on the trip. The climb up and down to load and get water put it in second place.   This high site provided a great view both up and down stream. The light smoky breeze kept the bugs at bay and reminded us that the forest was still on fire. That night Pete and I reviewed our maps and Lynn's notes to sort out the next day. Pete noted that, "tomorrow was a complicated day with lots of details".  I was too tired to absorb all of the details.

Day 4 - July 15, 2011 (10 miles)

We broke camp and floated down to Portage Rapids, mile 48.5. The 1999 trip report described this run as, "Very powerful, sweeping bend to the left, substantial drop...big three-foot waves". They lined the first ledge and took water on the rest of the run. We pulled out on river left at the top of first portage. At first, the standing waves intimated me and I started to prepare to unload and portage. Dennis walked the shoreline and found a line that looked runable on the left side. His youthful enthusiasm convinced me to give it a try. We poured down the left side with no problems and eddied out while Pete & Jerry portaged. Both canoes ran the lower rapids on the left side with no problems.

Just past mile 50 about half way, to Tashka Rapids there is ledge in the middle of the river. Lynn's notes indicated to proceed with caution, this ledge could be problematic at low water levels. Sprawled in the margin of Lynn's notes it says, "River Right". The 1999 group tried to get to river right but end up going into a "big souse hole", and had to stop to bail water.

Dennis and I had kept to river right while Pete & Jerry ran right down the middle of the river. The Winisk River is big. At this point, it is bigger than the Mississippi at St. Paul, MN. I could barely see Pete & Jerry out in the middle, but I could see that they are plowing into some big standing waves. At several points I could see daylight under both ends of their blue canoe. I screamed at Dennis to cut right, get downstream and prepare to do a rescue. If Pete & Jerry rolled their boat we might not have been able to get them to shore before they would go down the Tashka Rapids sequence.

We ran the white water on the right and started cutting back into the middle to help if we were needed. We watched the blue canoe bounce and dance up and down several huge standing waves before they finally cleared the ledge. It may have only been a few minutes, but it seemed like they were trapped in those standing waves forever. Both Pete & Jerry were quite animated when we caught up with them. Jerry was bailing water with his coffee mug. Unfortunately, we did not have a camera running so none of their adventure was caught on film.  

We pulled out on river right at Tashka Rapids, mile 51, at the Winisk River Camp to have lunch. It was a well kept and appeared to be an active camp. We made a point to leave everything the way we found it. A huge tongue of water pulls the river into a narrow slot to create Tashka Rapids. The upper falls is pretty much a straight shot into a series of huge standing waves. The lower falls was too far way to see a clear line.

My motto for this trip has been, "Do not do anything stupid!" But, the longer I stared at the upper falls, the more I was convinced that it is runnable. I could see a line and we just watched Jerry & Pete run a huge line of standing waves. I pointed this out to my partner, Dennis, who immediately reminded me of our motto. He also noted, "high risk, low reward". If we would roll on the upper falls, we would surely still be in the water by the time we hit the lower falls. Log rolling through two CIV's would qualify as doing something stupid!

We pulled out our ropes and lined both the upper and lower rapids. Jerry & Pete took the long portage around both rapids and beat us handily. I personally thought the lining was more fun but in this case it did take longer. According to our maps, this should have been Portage #5. So far we had only dragged our loaded canoes over one log portage, lined two rapids and run the rest.

The river valley was changing at this point. We were seeing 20 ft vertical sand and clay banks. We continued at a pretty fast clip down river to Baskineig Falls, mile 55, portage #6. Jerry & Pete portaged on river right but we pulled out the ropes and lined the canoe. The map said there is bronze geologic survey marker on the portage, but I could hardly find the path. I walked the trail twice, but the marker was completely hidden.

We cut over to river left and found the portage for the Lower Baskineig Falls. Jerry & Pete decided to line the rapids but Dennis saw a runnable line. The line required us to stay hard left to avoid the standing waves in the middle of the rapids. We wrapped into our spray skirts and cinched up our life jackets. I pulled out upstream and started looking for my mark on the left side.

I missed the mark and I pulled too far right. The video camera was running and I can be heard saying, "Oh God, here we go!" The canoe plowed into the foam and the next thing I saw was six foot standing wave crashing over Dennis' head, headed right at me. The canoe dropped several feet and now I was looking down hill at the top of Dennis' head as another wave rolled over the spray skirt. We got through a series of standing waves and eddied out at the bottom of rapids. Pete captured the whole run on video his camera. Dennis pulled a frame out of the video and I now use it on my computer desktop. I get the chills every time I run the video.

We found a strip of flat rock and set up camp. There was plenty of drift wood so we could build a fire and cook our fish with a view of lower Baskineig Falls. This campsite belongs in the top five for the trip. We only traveled 10 miles but we created a lifetime of memories. A very long day ended with a smoke filled red sky.  

Day 5 - July 16, 2011 (32 miles)

The day started with pancakes over a wood fire with Baskineig Falls in the background. We paddled out into Hill Lake looking for Rough Rapid (mile 57, portage #8). We pulled out at the top of the portage on river right. The whitewater was broken into two ledges and we decided to run both on the right side. We hit the mark on the first shelve but I went too far right on the second run and bounced off pretty good sized rock. Pete's video showed our boat taking a hard left turn in mid whitewater. Royalex is an incredible material. Any other kind of canoe would have sprung a leak at best, or ripped a big hole at worst. I had a hard time finding this gouge among all of the other rock cuts and dents.

Seashell Rapids (mile 60, Portage #9) came up quickly. We stopped on the island on the right that was supposed to be the portage. You have to take a big left turn clear across the river to even get to Seashell. We really could not see the rapids from the portage on the far right. We looked at going down the middle, decided to go far left, because the water was so low.  

Jerry & Pete took the lead and soon were almost out of sight. We made the big left turn and hit the first V with no problem. I remember shouting to Dennis that this wasn't so bad. We zigged and sagged between rocks and stayed in the line until the bottom. All of sudden, I lost the line and the next thing I knew was we are running headlong into a series of big haystacks.

I thought we should go right, but Dennis yelled "left" and then we are tilting hard left. I swear we dipped past 45 degrees as we climbed up and over the shoulder of that standing wave. The stern was swinging violently to the right and I was fighting as hard as I could to keep the bow straight.   We slammed down hard and started up the next wave over correcting to the right. I remember screaming at Dennis to keep her topside up. We finally cleared the standing waves. I remember asking Dennis to turn off the video so I could speak freely. I was pumped up on adrenaline and my hands were shaking.

That was as close as I have ever come to log rolling a canoe in class III+ whitewater.   I am constantly amazed at what that 17 foot canoe can plow through. I will lie through my teeth and tell you that it was skill that kept that boat upright. It was more likely a good design, 600 pounds of boat, crew and gear that kept it moving forward and upright. I will never again call out a rapids before I get to the bottom eddy.

We hit another stretch of fast water just down stream but that seemed pretty mild after the Seashell Swing. We pushed on until we came to Bend Rapid. It truly bends hard left and then back to the right. We stopped for lunch and got buzzed by a yellow MNR helicopter. It appeared to be following the river upstream so I assumed it was spotting fires. That would be the only contact with people until Peawanuck.

The Gneiss Rapids came and went with little notice. The side creeks were mostly dry or just a trickle. It was hard to track our location when we could not use the side streams as landmarks. From this point on, most of Lynn's field notes start to break down.

The river has changed, and campsites no longer exist or they have become so overgrown they are not useable. Many of these campsites have been swept away by river ice during the spring break up, or buried in blow downs or fires. One of the field notes identified a potential campsite as "looked ok from the water'. We climbed up the bank and could see that there used to be a site but now the blow down had covered the site. We did find several bear traps and other trapper gear.

We searched up and down Birch Island on both sides of the river with no results. We finally found an exposed sand spit somewhere near the 90 mile mark and set up our tents. If the tent was put in just the right place, it stayed dry. As soon as you stepped away, you could feel the water coming out of the sand. At least the site was flat and it did not look like we were going to get any rain that night. This site did not make the top five list of campsites.

At this point I was not sure what day of the week it was. In fact, Pete and I have a long discussion as to how many days we had been on the river. I had completely lost track of the calendar.

Day 6 - July 17, 2011 (27 miles)

We pushed off our "little bit of heaven" and paddled north toward the Winiskisis Channel. At some point we crossed into the Moosonee Administrative District. We believed this was where the fishing rules change and we started fishing with barb-less hooks.

We found what appeared to be a fishing camp on river left before we reached the Winiskiss Channel. The stakes along the shoreline and the rocks tied up to serve as weights, implied that someone had been run gill nets out into the channel. The camp consisted of plywood 'tents" covered with blue tarps. A boat had been cached and there were pots & pans on a bench. It appeared that everyone who had ever explored this camp had written their name on the plywood. One plywood panel had been decorated with a very graphic sexual scene. It appeared that when the fishing was bad the best way to beat the boredom was to day dream and draw!

The river broke into several channels north of the Winiskisis Channel. Lynn's notes indicated that the Rabbit Channel on river left can be, "Great or awful depending upon water levels." The 1999 trip took the Rabbit Channel to avoid a strong headwind. They found the channel to be only 50 ft wide, shallow but smooth as a mirror and reported seeing an osprey family. All we saw were a rocks and logs so we stayed on the main channel.

At the confluence of the Asheweig River and the Winisk, we started looking for the graveyard and the old cabin that were identified in Lynn's notes on river left. We could not see or find a graveyard but Jerry did find the old shack. I was hard pressed to call this cabin. It had boards and tarpaper for walls. There were traps hanging on a limb in the front. As Lynn noted during flashlight briefing, "It must have been a very hard life."

We saw another shack on river right but did not stop to explore it. Following Lynn's notes we stopped at a "good campsite, excellent site up on top" on the left side of the next island. The site up above the high water mark had been covered by blowdown and was now over grown. We stayed on the beach and cleared away the cobbles to create a level pad for each tent. We caught no fish but did cook over a wood fire.

Day 7 - July 18, 2011 (0 miles)

Lay over day, no paddling today. Pete estimated that we were head of schedule and that we could afford to spend a day fishing, sleeping or day dreaming. We all agreed that we needed some time to fish. The weather had been great, warm and sunny with a strong tailwind. We had only seen a few rain drops.   Thus, I slept in and did not crawl out my tent until I heard Jerry & Pete take off to go fishing. I pulled out a Cliff Bar for my breakfast and dug out my journal. It was time to catch up on my observations and thoughts.

Observations:

Clamsshells, cobblestone beaches, fossils, granite, sandstone, rows of willows, clear bright blue skies, dry air, wind, red skies, forest fires, big rocks, waves, riffles, flashing waves, low rumbles, eagles, osprey, moose track, wolf tracks, shorebirds (knots), goose tracks, cabins, nets, traps, Northerns, Walleyes, and no Brook Trout.

Thoughts:

This is big country; the clouds roll on all the way to Hudson Bay.

Expedition Canoeing - long distance travel by paddle, portage or lining down rivers and lakes.

Recreational Canoeing - fishing without packs, paddling upstream to cast and drift. Repeat as often as your arms will allow.

Every time I crawl into my seat I had wiggle my hips into my spray skirt to get into position. I found it is easier to just drop to my knees and pull the spray skirt up around my waist and then find my seat. After repeating this about a couple dozen times before entering each rapids, it was logical to recite a prayer while on my knees. Dennis and I worked on the wording during long stretches of flat water.

The Winisk River

Whitewater Paddlers Prayer

By Vern Fish & Dennis Molln

Give me the wisdom to enjoy a Class I, the skill to paddle a Class II, the time to study a Class III and the opportunity to appreciate a Class IV.

Give me the vision to see the line and the skill to follow it.

Allow me to avoid all portages by running or lining.

Let me lose track of time so I do not know when to go home.

Most importantly, let me paddle safety, all the way to the Bay!

Dennis and I spent most of the day walking the shoreline fishing. I caught one Walleye. The highlight of the day was watching an eagle chase an osprey with a fish.   I had read about eagles stealing fish from osprey but today I got to watch it happen.

After a late lunch and another nap, I was bored. I do not have a plywood wall to draw on so I talked Dennis into building an inukshuk. We were both raised on a farm and had spent plenty of time hauling rocks out of fields. The beach was covered with plenty of "good" rocks. It seemed like a great way to kill some time.

I reviewed several issues in my mind before we started piling rocks.  I am a firm believer in "leave no trace" I did not what to "disfigure" the landscape or leave a permanent mark.  I also did not want to leave a culturally insulting message.  We placed this inukshuk at what I thought was the high water/ice mark.  I assumed that these rocks would be pushed aside next spring or sometime in the future.  Thus, I hope that this was not a permanent mark.

I did leave the message in a peanut butter bottle tied to the rocks:

"To whom it may concern, this site was visited by Jerry Storm, Dennis Peterson, Dennis Molln and Vern Fish on July 17-18, 2011. Please share your stories and thoughts about the Winisk River by emailing Vernfish@aol.com. Sign in on the backside if you wish".

*On August 24, 2011, I got an email from an employee of the Ministry of Natural Resources who found our inukshuk and signed in!

Day 8 - July 19, 2011 (30 miles)

We took off on another bright sunny day but it began to sprinkle just before lunch. We found the river gauge station on river left. We stopped for lunch and explored the site. Cable ran down from the station into the river and out to some kind of structure on the right side of the river. I have no idea how this system works.

After lunch we passed some giant islands that appeared to have been shaped by ice. The upstream end had been plowed clear of trees and the sand and gravel was pushed up the bank. They looked like "battleships" steaming upstream.  

The wind and rain was now joined by thunder and lighting and we were finally forced off the river. We found a beach and climbed up the "nose of the battleship" into what I called the "gravel pit". We found lots of rocks and very little flat ground. Jerry pulled out the dining fly and we tried to pitch our tents in the driving rain under the fly. By the time I got my tent up, the floor was soggy (see the Storm/Peterson Moisture Index). I borrowed Pete's sponge and tried to squeeze out as much water as possible.

Jerry fixed a great meal under the dining fly. Cold, wet and tired, I called it quits and crawled into my sleeping bag which was draped over a diverse bed of rocks.   This had to be the worst campsite on the trip!

Day 9 - July 20, 2011 (16.8 miles)

About 2/3's of the way to Hudson Bay the Winisk River takes a hard right hand turn to the east. As we made the turn we were hit with a strong east wind. We were now faced with white caps and 25 mile/hr headwind. The sun disappeared and the temperature began to drop as we got closer to Hudson Bay. All of this made for an exhausting paddle.

We stopped for lunch and took a nap on the beach. We did not see Round Hill on river right.

That afternoon we got to watch an osprey catch a fish and an eagle chase a goose. The osprey proved to be an efficient predator by catching the fish on the first try. The inept eagle made at least five dives at the goose and missed each time.  We stopped at several small streams and tried to fish for Brook Trout with no luck. We stopped early to dry out, rest and eat. At this point we did not have any landmarks to help us place our location. We really do not know where we were!

Day 10 - July 21, 2011 (23 miles)

The morning temperature was cool and just after we broke camp it began to rain. The wind blew the rain into our face all day, tough paddling. We stopped for lunch and created a lean-to with the dining fly and a canoe. We huddled under the fly and behind the canoe to get out of the wind. I knew I was getting hypothermic. I had to get out of the wind and start eating to keep from losing control. With some difficultly I dug out my fleece jacket and a stocking cap and started to warm up. I am always amazed with how fast hypothermia sneaks up on you. One minute you are operating ok and the next minute you can't talk or button your jacket. If you do not act fast, you can die.

We went down the right side of Atik Island. There are four landmarks that can be seen from a satellite photo, Winisk Lake, the big east bend in the river, Hudson Bay and Atik Island. We stopped on Atik Island just to say "we were there". I pick up a small "kettle" stone as a souvenir. This is huge island that would take a life time to explore.

It stopped raining long enough for us to find a sloping river bank across from Atik Island to camp. We set up the dining fly with the canoes as a wind break just before it began to rain, again. My tent was at least at a 10% slope. We ate supper and slide into tents. It was another cold and soggy night (See Storm/Peterson Index).

Day 11 - July 22, 2011 (20 Miles)

Everyone was moving kind of slowly this morning. We were all pretty tired from fighting the windchill factor from yesterday. I prepared to do battle with the wind by putting on a couple of extra layers. At least it had stopped raining.

We were finally seeing some landmarks that told us we are 200 miles into our trip. We passed several impressive bluffs that stand 40-50 ft above the river. We kept fishing the mouth of small streams with no luck! Our notes said we should find good campsites on river left, but all we could find was seeping water and wet ground.

We finally found a flat sandbar between two islands. We built our wind break and set up camp. I could hear a plane in the distance. We must be getting close to civilization.

Looking downstream, I could see a series of clouds that stretched all the way to the curvature of the earth. This is big wild country. The temperature was dropping and I finally gave up and crawled into the tent.

Day 12 - July 23, 2011 (15 miles)

The end of my tent was facing east, so I could feel the warmth of the sun on my feet at day break! The sky cleared and the wind was now coming out of the west. As I was doing the morning dishes I saw a caribou walking across the river downstream. I did not have my camera and I tried to get everyone else to see it without shouting. It was a pretty good start to the day.

Our goal was to find a campsite just upstream from Limestone Rapids. We found another bug free sand spit with a dry flat campsite. After the mandatory nap, we tried fishing for the last time with no luck. Tomorrow we would run Limestone Rapids.

Day 13, July 24, 2011 (21 miles)

The night sky was spectacular before the moon flooded the sky with light. At daybreak the river was covered with a milky white fog. We broke camp and hit the water before 7:00 AM. The Rapids was a five mile stretch of whitewater with several drops and ledges. There were no portages in this canyon and the Lynn's notes indicated that Limestone Rapids "can be significant". We had not seen whitewater for several days, so we were a little apprehensive.

The last twenty miles was through low water and an incredible landscape. We ran, bounced and dragged our way through what seemed like an endless series of drops, ledges, rock gardens, islands and whitewater. The day was bright and clear and the air was warm and dry. The limestone canyon walls showed their sedimentary heritage as the bedding planes were illuminated by the morning sun.

Dennis and I did a 360 degree turn between one of the runs just to see the canyon spin around us. At one point, a side channel joined us by flowing over a gravel bar to our right. We were actually looking up at the water flowing down to us. The water was glowing in the light and we could see every rock and boulder as we moved with the river. The noise of the rushing water and reflecting light filled my senses. I can truly say for that instance, I was living in magical moment.

We pulled over in an eddy to let Jerry and Pete catch up when we noticed a sign and a cross high up on the cliff. The sign said, Chum's Island. We ate lunch under a 50 ft cliff and pushed off for the last run of the trip. Finally, we ran the last drop and soon we came to a road cut down to the river on the left. A little further down we could see the "Ledge" that marked the community of Peawanuck. We landed just upstream from the Ledge and start unloading. A year ago, when we landed at Fort Hope on our Albany River trip, we were overrun by people wanting to talk to us. No one came down to meet us Peawanuck.

Pete and I took a hike into town to find our contact person, Morris. In a community of only 300 it did not take long to find Morris. Morris provided a truck to haul us and our gear out to the airstrip. North Star Air could not pick us up until the next day so we camped at the side of the runway. Morris came back to our camp and spent some time telling us about his community and his life in the bush. We asked him about Chum's Island. He explained that a local law enforcement officer had flipped his boat on that rapid and died in the river. The community had placed that sign on the island as a memorial.

We had planned to have Morris take us down to Hudson Bay in his jet boat and camp for a night in Polar Bear Provincial Park. Morris explained that the river was too low for him to get down and back. He said our best bet now was to get our pilot to swing out over the bay for a quick look.

Day 14 - July 25, 2011 (600+ miles)

North Star Air picked us up around noon and we flew the 300+ miles back to Pickle Lake. On the way, Andrew, our "red-necked Otter pilot", swung us out over Hudson Bay. We got a quick look at the bay and then we swung south. After we landed we pay our bills and loaded the truck. We drove straight back to the Cook, MN. We got to Cook at about 5:00 AM. The next day Dennis and I drove 9 hours back to Iowa.

Trip Summary

We traveled 240 miles in 13 days. Of the 9 portages, Dennis and I lined our canoe three times and pulled it loaded over one log portage. Otherwise, we ran every rapid on the route. The water was VERY low and the fishing was poor. The weather was warm and sunny for all but three days.

The Winisk is truly a wild river but we saw signs of people many times. Outfitter cabins and hunting/fishing camps dotted the shore line. These intrusions did not distract from my experience. Each site was an opportunity to explore and better understand the landscape and its people. The people who live along the Winisk make their living off of the natural resources this river provides. I am just a visitor who came for an adventure.

Morris helped me understand this relationship when he asked if we saw any caribou or moose on our trip. When we said yes, he asked if we had shot it. He sees the river and its wildlife as a source of food and a daily challenge to survive, not necessary as a recreational adventure. I glad I had the chance to share his world even if I see it from a different viewpoint.

Jerry, Pete, Dennis and I wish to thank the Province of Ontario for setting aside this special river. I hope you will be able to balance the needs of the people who live beside this wild river and maintain its wilderness characteristics. We also wish to thank Lynn Cox for sharing her extensive knowledge of this river and Andrew, our Red-Necked Otter pilot, for three great flights over the bush. Finally, thank you to Morris Mack for taking the time to show us his community and share his understanding of the Winisk River.

Storm/Peterson Moisture Index

I have been paddling with Jerry Storm and Dennis Peterson for several years. They tell several stories about traveling in bad weather and they have developed their own moisture index. This index is very subjective and I will do the best I can summarized it.

We need to start with a couple of definitions:

Hooped - A very bad situation that is out of your control. The air and water temperature do not add up to 100 degrees. The wind is blowing your hat of your head and your ground cloth is floating.

Bone Dry - This is how your sheets feel on your bed back home.

Damp - Your pants are wet up to your ankles and your bandana is moist. Damp is good.

Soggy - Your pants are wet up to your knees and your shirt is wet down to your armpits. The ground cloth shows beads of water.

Soaked - Your pants are wet from the belt down and your shirt is wet from the belly button up. Your whole body is wet and cold. The ground cloth is covered by streams of running water.

This how you would apply the S/P Moisture Index to a real experience:

When you are completely soaked, you take off your soggy cloths and put your damp body into your bone dry sleeping bag. If you do not stop shaking within a half hour you are hooped!

Thus, you learn to appreciate damp and soggy and try to avoid being soaked!