Saturday July 28, 2007

Laura and I left Grand Haven at 7:17 AM heading north via Grand Rapids, Lake City, and then north on I-27 to I-75. We then stopped for a break at Sault St. Marie, MI for gas and something to drink. Then over the International Bridge and into Canada. We took an alternate route through the west side of Sault St. Marie, Canada to 17, and then headed north. We had planned to stop at the Voyageur Inn for Lunch, but a transformer outage nixed that. So we stopped at Canadian Carver for smoked trout, and Laura bought some moccasins. We headed north into LSPP and stopped at a beach along 17 for a late lunch. We piled back into the car, passed Wawa and made a brief stop at White River at the Pooh Bear Visitor Center before continuing west to the Coach House Motel between Marathon and Terrace Bay. Dennis and Patti were expecting us and set us up in room 2. We had a nice dinner of fresh salad and Laura had chicken soup, and I the Seafood Chowder. We assembled out 16.5 foot Pakcanoe and took looked for access to Lake Superior, before taking a walk along 17, before heading to sleep.

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Sunday July 29, 2007

Laura and I awoke. There was nervousness in the air. I headed out to load our assembled boat and some last minute packing. I headed in for coffee, and fine conversation with Patti. Laura joined me for breakfast of delicious omelet’s, and home made biscuits. We chatted with a construction engineer that was involved with the replacement of the CP mainline bride over the Steel River. Soon he waved us off, and we headed back east to the gravel road to the south end of Santoy Lake. We missed it the first time while we tried to get our last minute thoughts together, and soon arrived at the 17 bridge over the Steel River. We turned around and found the road and the government dock. We had a hard time finding it in 2004 as well when we paddled Santoy Lake. For future reference it’s the first major gravel road east of the Coach House Motel. We unloaded the boat, and loaded the three main packs, the paddles, pfds, and safety gear into the canoe. I made one last check of the car, and we hit the water. The wind was light from the southeast, but blew up as we headed north up the west shore of the lake. Thankfully, as the wind blew up it was at our back, and helped us along. We passed the small cottage along the west shore of Santoy. The wind and waves continued to blow stronger until we were paddling in 2 foot rollers. We saw some survey flagging, and thought of Cliff Jacobsen’s account missing the portage, and scouted for the portage. We didn’t find it, and continued on our way. We continued up the lake and finally found the now backwards stop sign marking the beginning of the Diablo portage.

We unloaded the boat, and pulled the boat ashore. I shouldered my big green Grade IV pack, and Laura her Granite Gear and we headed uphill. After a few hundred vertical feet of climbing, I was leaning on the paddles. Laura passed me up and kept climbing. Make a mental note to myself* don’t load that additional 15 pounds of last minute food, safety gear into the pack you already know weighs 55 pounds. Diablo is a diabolical SOB. It consists of three distinct parts*. The Climb*1200 feet of vertical torture in less than 1⁄2 mile* Lungs burning*legs feeling like rubber, and a pack trying to drive you into the metamorphic scree beneath your feet. All I can think of is Rob Haslam hauling two chainsaws over the portage a few weeks ago to keep the trail clean. I’ve done many climbs much higher, but never with at canoe!!! The Top*.several hundred meters of moderate rolling path riddled with thousands of moss covered slippery ankle busters. Finally, just when you think it’s over, there is another 400 meters of the “Devils Den”with larger moss covered boulders in a jumbled mess that you need to negotiate. Just about the time your shoulders are screaming for relief, your ankles are wobbly, and your thanking your lucky stars that you’re not carrying that extra 30 pounds of body mass you could have accumulated over a few winters*.and suddenly you walk into an opening and are greeted with a view of one of the most beautiful lakes you’ve ever seen with a pretty tree covered small island. We stopped for a drink of water and went back for the food pack and the boat. I disassembled the Pakcanoe and loaded it into the Grade VI pack, and we retraced our steps back up the “Satanic One.” This trip was much more manageable, as we repeated our earlier torture and were rewarded with a dip in Diablo Lake at the end of our walk .

We grabbed a quick snack and paddled out to a second island west of the one visible at the portage to our campsite. We were tired, sore, and set about making camp. Laura journaled and I walked around the island. Then Laura started dinner of Smoked Gouda macaroni and cheese with salmon. I grabbed a quick bath, and finished outfitting the canoe for the lake portion of our trip. Dinner was delicious and we sat watching the clouds build to the east. Laura commented that it might rain. I thought we might miss it. Sure enough, just after heading to bed it began to rain.


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Monday July 30, 2007

It rained all night. But after our previous 3.5 week foray across the North shore what should we expect. It thundered and lightning too but the trusty Marmot tent held dry in the onslaught. We awoke to sore muscles and tiredness. I boiled water for the coffee press and we had granola and milk and realized we might get some more rain. So we quick packed the tent, and then the kitchen into the dry portage packs and completed the task just minutes before it began to rain. It wasn’t a major rain, but we were glad to be packed dry for the day. The brief rain ended and we loaded into the boat. Diablo Lake is a devil to get to but very pretty when you arrive. We found a MNR registered trappers cabin along the southwestern shore of Diablo Lake and explored the northeast arm of the lake finding moose hair floating on the water. The moose must have earlier stopped for breakfast.

We located the portage at the north end of the western arm marked well with a portage sign. Due to the earlier rain, this portage felt like a rainforest. The plants were growing over the trail, making the portage somewhat tough to follow. We eventually, after 755 meters found the small wetland at the end of the port. This lake was very short and soon we were unloading again at the end of the small lake. While unloading we realized we forgot a bungee from Laura’s pack that held her PFD. We paddled back to the other end to retrieve it. This next portage was 262 meters through a series of wet muddy holes. We loaded back in to cross another small lake. The fourth portage was only 190 meters but ends at the south shore of Cainrngorm Lake, a very deep narrow valley. We were both still feeling the affects of Diablo, and were glad to be paddling and not walking after over 8 km of portaging in less than 24 hours.

So with our portages behind us we relished a bath and took lunch on a rocky shore in the sun. After lunch we headed north on the 15 km plus monster. It gradually widened out and we continued to enjoy a nice south breeze up the middle of the lake. Huge bays on each side would make for a longer additional paddle. The lake once again narrowed as we headed north, and we noted that the west shore was burned over by a forest fire, while the eastern shore was unburned. However at the Cairngorm Narrows the fire had jumped the lake. Both Laura and I were waning, as we paddled through the intriguingly beautiful burned out landscape. We stopped at a sloped rock along the eastern shore and watched as two hawk flew arcs while screaming across the sky. We continued along and entered a second narrows with an unburned forest along the east shore that we decided would make an acceptable campsite for our little tent. There was really only room for a portion of the tent, but it would have to do for the night. I popped up the tent, and Laura boiled water for dinner of Jamaican Chicken. We were tired and ate heartily. Soon the bugs drove us into the tent, and was off to a fitful night of sleep against the tent door on my slight slope.


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Tuesday July 31, 2007

We awoke early, but I felt like I had been awake all night trying to keep from lying against the tent wall. Laura had enjoyed her little moss covered nest up on the flat spot. We boiled water for coffee and tried half of our dehydrated eggs that Laura had made on the dehydrator. They were slightly touch compared with fresh, but had all the flavor and cooked up quickly. I pulled down the tent, and soon we had the canoe packed and were again heading north into the northern end of Cairngorm. The northern end of the lake is the widest, completely burned, and is studded with several islands. We slipped through between the islands enjoying the otherworldly eerie beauty of the burned trees, but amazed how the understory was growing back. The portage out of Cairngorm is in the far northeast bay on a grassy landing, oddly away from where the river drains Cairngorm. As we were entering this arm of the lake Laura spotted an animal swimming across the lake in front of us. She thought it was a moose, recalling our moose experiences in Obatanga and Wabakimi. We kept paddling closer for a better look, and maybe a photo. Soon it reached the eastern shore, and climbed from Cairngorm Lake. We both realized together that it was rather a small black bear. He scampered up the steep blackened rock hill with a quick look over his shoulder before disappearing from site. The port is in a mucky slot through the reeds and through a burnover sporting a profusion of blueberries I’d not seen in years. Then as we reached the edge of the rock, we were rewarded with a view of the Steel River cascading into the pool where we would again launch. On the trip back for the canoe and food pack, we savored many of the tasty tiny morsels of blue. The river below the falls consists of a short stretch of non-technical fastwater with strainers which we negotiated before we were discharged through reeds into Moose Lake. The lake wasn’t more than a kilometer long, and we stopped at the end, before paddling into the Steel River as it exited Moose Lake. We paddled through a beautiful marshland that appeared to be beautiful moose habitat.
However, No moose at this time. We found the portage on river left just upstream, of the rough bridge on Dead Horse Road. There was a profusion of blueberries along the portage, along with a single small bush of ripe wild raspberries. A small cascade rumbled out from beneath the bridge. Laura found a nice lounge chair in the rocks and I opted to join her on this warm humid day.

After cooling in the river, we once again entered the canoe, and meandered down the beautiful looping, wetland surrounded Steel River. Soon we approached a fast segment of water. We located the last port into Steel Lake, and began doing the port. As we approached the end of the port we noted an older couple in a square stern with a small motor in the river. We chatted with them and they told us they had just seen a mother and cubs on the river we had just ported from. They were from GTA and were visiting Steel Lake for the second time. We said our good-byes abd followed the short stream into Steel Lake. We clicked across the southern-most end of the lake to the first narrows and found a nice beach in the sun for lunch of tuna and bagels and a cooling dip in the lake. Eventually we were on our way continuing up the 25-30 km lake towards the north. We passed a fishing boat at a distance across a widening in the lake. A T bisects the lake at nearly 1/3rd the distance up the lake, and we had thoughts of staying at one of the two sites depicted on the MNR brochure map. We stopped at the west most first. We found a tent platform, a round dinette table and chair from the 1970s and a fish cleaning table. We explored the exquisite falls where Kerria Creek tumbles into Steel Lake, before opting to continue on for another campsite. We searched along the eastern shore just north of the T and never found the campsite depicted on the old MNR map. Finally, we found a small old campsite on a small island in the middle of the lake. There was a suitable tent spot, and I set about making beef, with beef gravy over mashed potatoes. With Laura’s help, the meal came together nicely. Quickly we cleaned up dishes, and purified water before falling into my moss nest while looking at the maps for tomorrows paddle.


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Wednesday August 1, 2007

We awoke to the sun breaking over the hills. We cooked coffee and had oatmeal with strawberries for breakfast. The south wind continued to blow us up Steel Lake. We took advantage of our luck and made good miles. The northern 1/3 of Steel Lake lies diagonal slightly east of north, and upon entering this stretch we found some rocks to do a quick leg stretch and grab a snack before finishing the lake portion of our trip. We found a very purple pile of bear scat indicating that the bruins were also enjoying the bumper blueberry crop. Soon we were quickly slicing northeast again towards the north end of Steel Lake. The wind had increased and the waves building, but we had developed a fine sense of security in our reliable tandem Pakcanoe. It’s far and away the best handling canoe I’ve ever paddled loaded in big following seas. We slowly paddled out of the fire burn, and then headed east into the last little piece of Steel Lake toward our intended campsite and portage into the Steel River proper. We set up camp on a beautiful rocky campsite over looking the rapids issuing from the northern end of Steel Lake. The sky was threatening on the strong wind, so we set the tarp, but had no rain. We set about lunch with tuna and bagels and talked about what a long trip it would be up Steel Lake in a north wind. I set up the bear bag and we hiked the portage trail to see the rapids beginning the river. Soon we were back at the campsite relishing the warm temps and fresh breeze as we laid back relaxing, reading, and writing for the afternoon. We opted for minestrone soup and home made bannock cooked over the fire for dinner, which we enjoyed on the rocks overlooking the lake. We cleaned up the dishes, purified water, and relaxed watching the sun set through the partly cloudy skies until the wind abruptly died and the mosquitoes started attacking.

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Thursday August 2, 2007

Today would be our first day on the Steel River proper. The night got nice and cool and clear, and the moon shone brightly about the campsite. Morning was gorgeous, and I cooked potatoes scrambled eggs and coffee. We leisurely packed and began the portage with the packs. We had talked about running that first rapid below Steel Lake, a complicated Class II with a tight boulder garden in to negotiate, that nearly everyone ports. We followed suit. The port was a nice 140 meters down to a small lake. We paddled the lake and unloaded for the second port. This was 600 meters of steep inclines and declines through the canyon created by the Steel River. It emerges at another beautiful pond at a very scenic cedar grove. We stopped for a granola bar and to catch our breath before continuing on. Once again we had only a small pond to paddle across to a the third and final portage into Aster Lake. The takeout was tough, but the portage was only 140 meters. We launched into Aster Lake where the Steel River from the west and the Little Steel River from the north meet. Here we begin our southward journey towards Mother Superior. We exited Aster and ran two nice run-and shoot Class I rapids before entering a 1 km long lake before re-entering the river. This led to two swifts and a log across the entire river requiring a short portage, and a couple more swifts into a lake that creates a S-turn. Then more small lakes alternating with Class I Rapids and swifts. Laura and I teamed up to run technical lines through the rapids, and our trusty Pakboat responded wonderfully. Soon we arrived at a technical Class II. All the maps and trip reports say portage*we unloaded the gear, and carried around. I crossed to a small island in the middle to scout a clean line through the boulder ridden river. I reported back that we could try down the tongue on the top, and then just left of the big roller and pick our way through the bottom boulder garden. Laura agreed to run the rapids, and so we saddled up, and hit the run perfect, bumping twice on the river bottom in the shallow boulder garden but running a clean line between all the rocks.

We eddied out by our packs and opted for a shore lunch of PB&J and flatbread. One loaded up again, we headed south into a somewhat wide river or a long narrow lake. We were enjoying the gorgeous scenery with cliffs rising out of the river, cedars hanging over the river, and watching the clouds scud across the sky, when Laura spotted another animal ahead. As we drifted silently without paddling we realized it was 2 moose* a young bull with small antlers and a cow. We continued to drift closer without them noticing us, as they meandered across the river eating, and Laura taking a couple pictures. We enjoyed watching them from a reasonable distance for 8-10 minutes and closed to maybe 100 feet before they crashed up the hill slope into the forest.

We ran two more swifts, and had planned to stay at a campsite on the west side of the river, but as we approached we saw a canoe and kayak along the shore at the site. We opted for a second site on the left further downstream. Here we set up camp, read, journaled and relaxed on the sandy site. I set the tent up in a grove of massive cedars along a small tributary. As we got hungry, we cooked up Tomato Chipotle Pasta with some of the leftover bannock, and cleaned up camp. We enjoyed our campfire before retiring to the tent.

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Friday August 3, 2007

I was half asleep, when I heard a strange bird sound outside the tent. I was still too tired to expend the energy to look out, but Laura opened the fly to pear out. And said it looked like a cross between a grouse and a chicken. It peered at her and fanned it’s tail and continued walking past. I had seen the same bird on the island in Diablo Lake. We ultimately determined that it was a Ruffed Grouse. Seems that the grouse up along that area are significantly larger than any grouse I’ve seen in Michigan, and don’t exhibit nearly the skittishness of those we see commonly near the rivers in Michigan. Eventually, I crawled from the tent and made coffee and blue berry muffins. Laura and I packed our packs, tent and tarp. As we were finishing our packing and drinking coffee the family of three with the canoe and kayak passed with a wave. Laura and I finished our morning routine and hit tht river for another exciting day.

We paddled the remainder of the lake we camped on, and then through two swift, through a small lake before hearing rapids ahead. We pulled ashore on river right and walked down along the shore to scout a clean line for the loaded boat. We agreed on a course, and saddled up the canoe. The loaded Pakboat slid effortlessly down the black tongue, and into the rocky stretch. It maneuvered like a jack-rabbit, and soon we were bouncing through the three foot haystacks on the runout. Gret fun!!! A textbook run*a nice drop, big standing waves and a fast finish, what more could you want. We whooped into yet another beautiful small lake, thinking it’s too bad that we didn’t have a second boat to photograph us and for us to take pictures of. It wasn’t long before we heard another rapid ahead. We pulled up at the portage, and walked through the woods peering through the trees as the river bounded through a boulder garden towards a sharp right hook, and dropped into another pool. We walked to the bottom to make sure we wouldn’t run too shallow a channel with the loaded canoe in the boulder garden at the bottom. Once again with a route in mind we saddled up. We picked our way through the upper boulder garden to set up above the main drop, then swung into the big standing waves and down through the lower boulder garden on a nice wave train. Yahoo!!! Several Class I’s and swifts completed the package before dropping onto the island in the middle of a small pond for a snack and to stretch our legs.

While taking our break we saw the kayak and canoe emerge from just around the corner on the lake and head down river. We too headed down river as well, and followed the canoe through two swifts before overtaking them on a small lake. They were from southern Ontario and had run the entire look a few years ago, and were running the upper end of the loop north of the new Dead Horse Road. We bid them goodbye and trucked out into a larger lake behind the solo kayak. The kayak had gotten slightly separated and was called off to a campsite on the right side of the lake, and we continued down the lake on our own.

We left the lake and entered a meandering riverine environment. So we slowed our paddling cadence to be as quiet as we could as this again appeared to be good moose habitat. We paddled through several corners and if on cue we rounded a corner and a big bull moose complete with a wide rack was standing in the river eating. All I could whisper was “Holy shit” as I applied back strokes to avoid getting too close to the monster. He was as surprised to see us as we were him, and I quickly pulled the camera from the drybox whispering, “Come on* Come On” as I awaited the digital camera doing it’s start up thing. I squeezed off one shot before he turned down river at a trot creating a huge wake as he parted the knee deep on him water. I hurredly shot another picture as he headed downstream on the river left shallow side of an island. We quietly drifted down the deeper left side of the island hoping to see him again when we both emerged beyond the island. But as we swept along the island we soon spotted a cow moose at the bottom tip of the island. Laura took the camera and grabbed a couple more hurried pictures as they headed downstream together before the cow headed up the left bank and the bull crossed the Steel River and headed up the right bank. We continued along our merry way paddling quietly, and a couple bends down river saw the bull sneak back across to the left bank again in the pond above Rainbow Falls.

We could hear the rumble well in advance, but the portage trail was hidden around the bend at the brink of the falls. We approached slowly and eddied out on a nice sand bar. We unloaded the boat and walked the 350 m portage which only provides limited views of the falls, and travels through a campsite before dropping down a steep decline to the bottom of the rapids at the base of the falls. We opted to only carry the food pack and canoe partially back before walking out onto the rocks forming the falls and taking our lunch of tuna and flat bread among the mist. After lunch I walked below the falls to take a few pictures before grabbing the canoe and completing the port and heading downstream. Below the falls were a couple kilometers of Class Is and fun swifts. We’d call all of this Class IIs here in Michigan. Soon the character of the river changed. The abrupt shield cliffs that had so hemmed in the lakes and river for most of the trip slowly receded from along the river, and the river banks became less gravel and more fine grained, indicating a lower energy depositional environment. The river changed from lakes punctuated by rapids to a more sinuous looping nature with swifts where tributary streams dropped gravel and boulders in the Steel. We paddled for a few kilometers and opted to stop on a sandbar to enjoy the sun while reading, and napping. With us both in full relaxation mode, we paddled two more bends and found a nice sandbar above the Dead Horse Road and put up the tent. We poured some wine, I wrote in my journal and Laura read, and finally, when we were hungry we cooked Ginger Sesame Stir Fry for dinner. Laura did dishes and I hung the bear bag. We continued to enjoy our soft sandbar writing in the journal and reading until the sun sank below the tops of the spruce trees, before heading off to bed.


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Saturday, August 4, 2007

I awoke early and crawled from the tent to take pictures of the mist floating around the campsite. I got the bear bag down, and made coffee while Laura was deep into her book. Laura joined me and we had oatmeal for breakfast. We packed up and got on the river. The river continued it’s sinuous trek south towards Santoy Lake and ultimately Lake Superior. We crossed beneath Dead Horse Road again about 1⁄2 mile below our campsite. Addressing the road* it’s not new it’s existed for several years and shows up on the aerial photographs. It’s evident that the lake has helped to provide access to Steel Lake from the south. Although there has been access from the north for many years via the Catlonite Road. In addition, Dead Horse Road does provide the opportunity to paddle up Steel Lake and then down the river without doing Diablo and requiring only a several km walk along the road between the put in and take out. However, this plan of action avoids by far the prettiest lake in the loop*.Diablo Lake, and makes the trip pretty short as well.

About a 1⁄2 hour below the road we came to our first log jam. Our most recent records from early July suggested just 5 log jams. Because the log jams shift from year to year, and season to season, the portages need to be modified or recut nearly every year. The bulk of this effort on the Steel Loop is performed by Rob Haslam of Geraldton, who supplied me with his maps of the trip. These ports around the log jams involve scaling 8-15 foot silt river banks out of the river channel, and then past the jams which fully choke the rivers width for 500-1000 feet!!! We negotiated two within a 1⁄4 mile of each other, hauling all the gear and the boat out of the river. Then we faced several more miles of clear river. We stopped for a nice shore lunch of tuna and salmon pits, and some welcome relaxation. We did two additional portages around log jams that stretched at least 500-600 feet in length, far further than I could see!!!! The last had a narrow slot to slide the canoe back down to the river. I had commented that “It was quite a lumberyard down there.” According to the map we only had one remaining port down near where the river entered Santoy Lake.

So we opted to take a break. Laura continued to read her book, while grabbed a quick nap, took photos, and explored. Finally, finding and extensively watching little whirlpools moving from the eddy to the current while tracing shadows across the bottom of the river. After an hour and half, we got back to paddling. I had thought we might stop for the night leaving a few miles of river, the last portage and the length of Santoy for Sunday, but we kept paddling. We were making great time, and the evening sun was dappling across the water. This was as prettier than any Eastern UP stream as I had ever paddled, but better yet it was in Canada!! Unfortunately, the sinuous nature of the river made it difficult to plot an exact location. So we kept paddling, it was a race to see if we would make it to the last portage and ultimately the beach at the north end of Santoy or the soft dusk would envelope us first. Soon we came across a single large log spanning the entire river that required us to do a liftover after emptying the entire boat of the packs. Then back to paddling. The river in the evening was beautiful and we were paddling in perfect synch, the prior 90 miles had tuned our paddling to a fine order. We had an intimate beaver encounter as it crawled from the bank and slipped into the water, and a second further down as a beaver crossed in front of us with a green birch branch. We reached a second liftover like the first. We were both showing signs of our long day, but the prospect of sleeping on that sand beach kept us going. Eventually another log jam loomed ahead. It had to be the last one. We searched for a portage sign, and finally located a cleared bank, but no signage. An aluminum fishing boat was cached at the top of the bank and a portage trail wandered off through the fading light. We unloaded and loaded the packs on our backs and began to walk a very gorgeous portage trail between the cedar trees past the largest and last log jam. It was logs as far as the eye could see. I’ll bet it was atleast 1000 feet long. Fortunately, a bend in the river allowed the portage trail to cut across a point and cut the portage length to only 140 meters. We noted a older gent fishing in a turquoise fiberglass fishing boat, and realized we were nearly on Santoy. We loaded the gear into the canoe and finished the last mile or so to Santoy Lake. We pulled ashore at the point as dusk was turning to night, and put up the tent, and made a quick dinner of Louisiana Beans and Rice, and we finished the wine. (That always brings to mind the trip down the AuSable with Garth fueled nearly entirely by the overly expansive menu of beans and rice.) We cleaned dishes, organized camp and watched the stars. Laura had a minute little rodent friend visit her, so we left the packs reasonably open to avoid him chewing holes in the drybags. I saw a huge meteorite cross the southern sky over Santoy Lake and soon we were off to bed tired from the effort of a longer than expected day.


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Sunday August 5, 2007

Awoke to a final beautiful day. The wind blew from the south all night. We knew we were up against a long paddle down Santoy straight into the teeth of the wind. But the wind had been with us for 4 days on the way north, so we could handle 10 miles bucking it’s force back to the car. I climbed from the tent and went for a walk along the nothren beach and found a well established campsite on the east of the Steel River entering Santoy Lake. Eventually, coffee beckoned and I headed back. Laura was reading, and between pages set up chocolate chip muffins baking, and then I made a spicy cheese omelete. We then did dishes, purified water, and packed for our last day on the Steel River Loop. The wind and waves seemed pretty manageable at 1.5 -20 feet when we left the beach at the north end. Given the wind direction from the straight south, we pitched a course from headland to the shore behind the headland to give us a wind break before taking the brunt again as we paddled around each point. But as we crossed diagonally across the face of each headland there was no way to avoid the huge wind driven swells as they reflected off the point amplifying the incoming waves. The headlands at the north end of the lake were the biggest concern with 3-4 foot waves. But the Pakcanoe once again showed it’s versatility as it snaked over the waves with little more than a small splash and none of the rough ride afforded by a hard canoe. We took a couple breaks in the lee of the points, and gradually as we moved south down the lake the waves across the headlands lessened, and we rounded the last point and headed west to the Government Dock. We unloaded all the gear one last time, and I rinsed the silt and sand from the canoe before loading it atop the Passat, and loaded the gear in the hatch. We headed west on 17 to the Coach House Motel for showers, and to disassemble the canoe for the trip home. For dinner a bowl of fine soup and a nice crisp salad filled our bellies. We opted to head down the dirt road across from the Santoy Lake access, to Lake Superior to walk over the beach, and rocks looking at the beautiful round rocks created by the wave action of the lake.


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Monday August 6, 2007

We awoke, and had breakfast with the Fishers before heading west to visit Rossport. However, the Inn wasn’t open for lunch, so we migrated back east, stopping at Hatties Cove for a walk before heading back home. We stopped at the Voyageur Inn for trout dinner before making a long night time drive home.

In retrospect, this was a great canoe trip. Eye opening scenery, fantastic up-close wildlife viewing, beautiful weather, excellent lake and whitewater canoeing, good food, plenty of exercise, no bugs, and almost zero encounters with other human parties. Between 95 and 100 miles of canoeing, 12 miles of portaging, 7 gorgeous campsites, three massive linear lakes. I'd do it again in a heartbeat!!


Copyright © 2007
Paul J. Knoerr