The Surprise on Draper Lake
Ever since my buddy told me about the two ladies he met on a Quetico canoe trip, I’ve had a desire to visit Draper Lake. The lake is almost unknown to most people, but with the help of some friends, I found some interesting facts about it. The story started with my friend and his family on a portage in the northern Quetico. As they were portaging, he saw two ladies in a small aluminum canoe. They arrived at the landing just as he was starting his portage. As he carried his gear along the trail, he had a feeling that he knew one of the ladies. “Ahhh, Shirley Peruniak! That’s it,” he said, as he hurried back to the lake. He had just read her book, An Illustrated History of Quetico Park, the previous winter. Shirley had been a Quetico Park Ranger for several years and now maintains the library at French Lake in the northeast corner of Quetico Provincial Park. The book is an excellent read and has many old photos of historical people, places, and events.
Quickly my friend crossed the portage and soon returned to the two women on the other side. He was caught up in the excitement when he confirmed that it actually was Shirley. As he walked along the trail with her, they talked about the Quetico and what it had to offer. He soon discovered her favorite lake was Draper Lake.
Draper Lake, Quetico Provincial Park, Photo by Bo Bowers
I, too, was awestruck as my friend told me his experience. I was still caught up in story when I stood at the portage to Draper with my son last summer. We beached the canoe on the landing and started our journey across the trail. It seemed much longer than the 60-rods marked on the map and had definitely not seen much use. Although it was long and overgrown, the trail was beautiful with a hole in the overgrown forest which we hoped led to the lake that we had researched the previous winter.
On the Draper Lake end there were three different places to slide the canoe into the water. All three areas were swampy and shallow with overgrowth blocking the path. The area also required us to slide along the mucky bottom.
After an hour we finished the double portage and were on the water heading west towards our planned island campsite. After just paddling Walter Lake, a big body of open water with a fairly strong northerly wind, we found Draper almost like glass. It was a beautiful sunny day, the kind of day that made my son and me feel full and complete. We were on the most important lake of our planned trip, and the excitement was building more and more with each paddle stroke. After months of planning our trip and talking about this lake we were sailing across it, amazed that we had finally made it to our destination. As we took in all the beauty of this pristine lake, it was easy to understand why someone like Shirley Peruniak called Draper her favorite Quetico lake.
We had left Jessie Lake at 8 a.m. that morning and had arrived at the island campsite on Draper Lake around 1:00 p.m. Our camp, we had been told, would be on the island to the far west. As we arrived, I recalled seeing a photo that had been sent to me by a friend. Yes, this was it. We were elated to find it was still open.
Our campsite sat on a slight hill on a small point on the island. We pulled the canoe and gear to shore and headed up to check out our new home. Granite was everywhere, and the fire pit area was built on top of a very large rock. Logs lay nearby so we would have seats around our campfire. Farther back in the forest we found our tent site, flat and covered by a bed of soft pine needles. Looking around I was surprised to find trails; I figured not many campers visited this hidden jewel. I was surprised as well to see we had the entire lake to ourselves.
First we set up camp. It was a beautiful day, but in Canoe Country one never knows about the weather. We wanted plenty of time to do all the things we had planned. A whole winter of anticipation was going into just two days on this site.
This was my son Jonathan’s first Quetico trip, and I wanted it to be something special. In previous year’s trips I had found a few rock cairns containing message caches hidden in the forest. Several months ago I thought about how neat it would be to start something special, a unique way to share the event with my son on his first trip to the Quetico. This idea might be something he could potentially pass on to his kids on future Quetico adventures. Now I know there are several readers out there that might think this is horseplay and a message cairn might take the wilderness adventure out of the trip. So keeping these thoughts in mind we looked for the perfect spot for the cairn, a spot hidden from those who wouldn’t find it unless they were looking for it. This spot would tell the story for many years in the future.
Behind the campsite there were two trails leading deep into the forest. Most of the time these trails lead to a latrine as this one did. The other trail led to the water’s edge. I thought it looked like a good place to fish; it sure wasn’t a very good spot to swim. Jonathan and I stood in this spot for a minute or two just looking at the vast wilderness. Silence overcame me and allowed me to become more aware of my surroundings. The sun was warm on our faces. It was totally awesome to have this lake all to ourselves. As the sun slightly blinded me, I turned around to find another trail behind me. It headed up the hill but stopped only ten feet or so. Farther up the hill I saw a pile of rocks. Perfect!
I thought this pile was interesting but was struck with curiosity. I questioned why the pile of rocks was there, for it was obvious that someone had hauled the stones up the hill to that spot. I wondered if it could have been used as a message cache years ago. There seemed to be enough rocks to build our rock cairn, and the pile meant less work for us.
First we took the rocks and laid them all out as if we were putting a puzzle together. Starting with the bigger stones we built the surrounding walls, leaving an opening in the center to house the messages. After about an hour Jonathan and I completed the cairn leaving the top open for later. Then we headed back to camp to write our letters.
The first message which I put in the jar was a note on the back of the map. I simply stated: “Please leave a note, poem, or whatever you feel the need to write. This message cache was started on 8/4/04 by a guy called “Quetico Passage” and his son. After reading this message and writing your thoughts, please return it to the bag and place it in the jar, and rebuild rock cairn. Feel free to add your notes to this map. Quetico Passage.”
An interesting thought came to us after building the rock cairn. Would anyone else find it? We decided to create a marker but only something a cache seeker would find. So we built what are called “Inukshuks” along the trail to the cairn. An Inukshuk is an ancient marker which is often found along Canadian highways or trails as an indicator leading to a place of interest. Jonathan and I built several of them, a couple along the trail and others off to the side. They were subtle markers, not readily apparent unless one was looking for them.
Jonathan and I wrote, dated and signed our messages in the notebook then placed the book in a Ziploc bag and put it in the jar. Walking the trail back to the cairn, we passed the 7 Inukshuks, which, though disguised, marked the trail well. Jonathan put the jar in the cairn, and we both stacked and secured the rocks entombing the message cache. Following the trail back to camp we paid our respects to the Inukshuks as we passed each one. It was a good feeling to know that the cache was secure in the forest with a part of us left behind. I was overcome with sadness knowing it would be some time before I’d ever read the messages again.
The notes I put on that map are still there, safe and sound, and the messages that are shared are ones of camping stories and fishing frenzies that so many paddlers have come to share. Those notes are there to be shared only by the passing voyageur who stops to read. Jonathan and I will someday make the trek back to Draper, not only to recall the memory of our first Quetico trip but to share in the adventures of others who have stopped at that site, those who have taken the time to share their thoughts and feelings at that same place.
It was a hot day, and we opted to swim and to clean ourselves from the day’s long journey and work. Then we ate and decided it was time to rest. My son took the tent while I sat in my chair, journal in my lap and pen in my hand. Soon I drifted off to sleep dreaming of my surroundings as the cool breeze hit my face.
My dream was unique. I remember visualizing a day when I could no longer make the Quetico Passage myself but instead saw my son with his kids slowly paddling across a lake. I remember smiling and noting that he had learned something from me: to slow down and take it all in and to not be in such a rush as to miss something.
As darkness fell, Jonathan and I recalled the day’s journey and our achievements. We were proud to know that we had made it there and completed our goal for this trip. The mosquitoes were starting to bite, and we heard their whine swarming around us. Running to the tent we took shelter from the forest invader. Then after several hands of cribbage we both drifted off to a sound sleep.
In the darkness of early morning I awoke to an eerie sound, a sound I had only heard once on my previous trips. As I stepped from the tent, I found the noise came from a large pack of wolves along the south shore of the lake. Walking from the dense forest to a nearby clearing I looked to the sky where the full moon gleamed down on me making me feel as if I were the only person in the world to experience this event. I quickly made my way back to the tent and woke my son so he could join me in the glorious moment. We sat in silence not uttering a single word.
As we finished the portage from Draper and paddled back through Walter Lake, we paused to see several canoes coming from Lonely Lake. An excitement came over me as I wondered if they would find our messages on Draper Lake. Although they headed in our direction instead of Draper, it did make me stop and wonder just how many others would share our trip through the hidden cache on our campsite.
Someday I’ll be back. If not, then my son will return to share that special moment. Our experience was like the family portrait, poised and set but only to be viewed as a memory till the next visit. I wondered how many people would camp there and never see the cache. The smile on my face matched the one on my son’s as we turned and dipped the paddle in the water.
This trip was a father’s trip of a lifetime. It is awesome to have something as great as the Quetico to share with my son. We both have the bond needed to understand the Quetico Passion. He will now have his own quest and the rest of his life to return, a quest to pass on to his future generations someday. It is this passion which gets under one’s skin to keep returning to this wonderful place. Someday long after I’m gone, a part of Jonathan and me will always exist in the Surprise on Draper Lake.
