17th: "Let's just see what's around the next bend."

Almost anyone who's paddled down an unfamiliar stretch of river has had to fight the urge to go just a little farther to see what's around the next bend in the river. I hate calling it quits for the day or turning around for fear that what lies just out of sight beyond the next bend will be memorable: a moose wading near the shore, a family of deer bounding out of view just as one comes 'round the corner, some magnificent cliff face or other rock formation or some spectacular meadow, the perfect campsite or an impressive rapid. I fight this feeling even when on rivers and creeks meandering through a small town or featureless farmlands.

Ilana wrestles with that impulse too, but she's more disciplined than I and manages to call it quits after only one or two bends in the river beyond the time we set for ourselves on any little excursion. If it were up to me, we'd always paddle way farther than we should. Ilana's self-control is what keeps us from over-extending ourselves or getting back to the take-out later than we planned. I've never begrudged her good sense on this, but last Sunday we paddled the exact same stretch of the Magnetawan as we had on our first lilly-dip of the season and we discovered that what lay around the next bend would have been worth getting back late for on that previous trip.

I awoke Sunday morning to the sound of rain on our trailer. The previous night's weather forecast for Sunday had called for possible rain and thunderstorms. It's rained every day or night this week. Ugh. When it wasn't raining the skies and weather forecasts were threatening rain and thundershowers, so we had postponed a day trip on the water every day for a week, not to mention our first camping trip of the season. Worse yet, some of those threatening skies and weather forecasts turned out to be false alarms, which left us feeling dumb. I always feel stupid when I put off a day of canoeing due to warnings of bad weather only to have the day turn out to be beautiful. Nearly everyone who likes canoeing knows some guy who is always complaining about not being able to go canoeing or camping for some reason or other. Bad weather is that guy's favourite excuse. I really hate being that guy. So when the rain stopped on Sunday morning and the sun came out I didn't care that Environment Canada was calling for rain and thunderstorms. The sky was telling a different story.

Ilana and I discussed a possible afternoon trip as she too was anxious to get out on the water for a half day. Since the weather might turn ugly on us at any point, Ilana suggested we avoid any trip across a large open lake. We'd been windbound once before on a day trip and didn't want to get stuck somewhere. She suggested we redo the very same stretch of the Magnetawan as we had on our first jaunt of the season, but this time we'd go as far upstream as we could before rapids or falls blocked our progress. With any luck, we might get close to Brooks Falls, which we'd discovered on our 2nd day trip of the season. So, after breakfast I began filling the dry bag with the usual stuff: Nalgene bottles of water, snacks, rain coats, emergency kit, etc. I even hopped out of my PJs and into my paddling clothes without my morning shower so as not to waste another minute of the day. I feared thunderstorm might roll in at any moment and cut our trip short.

We drove from our campground to the Lawton's Cove boat launch on Little Doe Lake in Katrine and wasted no time putting-in. It was sunny, gusty and the fluffy white clouds made it look like a promising day. As on our first trip, we paddled east out of Little Doe Lake and took the first right (south) fork after the first bridge and began our upstream paddle through Katrine, passing under the second bridge and then under the highway 11 bridges, past the golf course, under the train bridge and beyond it until we arrived at the same spot where we'd stopped on our first trip. It took an hour to get there, which was pretty good time considering how much stronger the current against us was than it had been the last time. The river was a good 6 inches higher than it had been before, swollen from all those consecutive rain days. The difference in the current wasn't just felt, but visible in the way the underwater grasses were bent down flat in the reddish, tea colored water instead of bending gently with the current as they had the last time we paddled by here.

For some reason there was a real paucity of wildlife that day. We saw no four-legged critters and very few birds, except for a few families of Canada Geese hiding out under the highway 11 bridges. The only good thing about the lack of fauna was that there were no bugs either; no blackflies, no mosquitoes, no deerflies or sand flies. I guess the occasional heavy gusts of wind were discouraging them from leaving the cover of foliage.



Though the fauna was not in evidence, the flora was terrific. The river banks were lined in places with gardeny mixes of yellow hawkweed, mouse-eared hawkweed, daisies, purple vetch, and orange hawkweed. Best of all, the wild irises were in full bloom, sometimes singley and sometimes in generous patches. Immediately upstream from the secluded cottage was a tiny side pond where we stopped long enough for me to snack on some fruit leather and some peppery meat sticks as Ilana nosed the boat into the grassy banks to take some close-up photos of irises.

When we returned to the channel Ilana pointed out that she was seeing tiny, but dense clusters of water bubbles floating downstream towards us. She'd noticed them getting more numerous as we paddled upstream. We suspected that these small sudsy islands were downstream indicators of frothy rapids not far upstream. No sooner had we inferred this that we began to hear the faint roaring of fast-moving water. We were just a few bends farther than where we'd stopped the last time we were here when we rounded a corner revealing a river feature we'd hoped to happen upon since last summer.

Immediately ahead of us the Magnetwan widened, but just beyond we could see the river winding towards us in a tight S-shape. It was several feet higher and narrower with whitewater funneling down in big frothy waves. This is exactly the sort of rapid were were looking for to practice basic whitewater techniques.

We didn't walk the shoreline that day to get a good look at the hard part of the rapids but from the base of the rapids the drops upstream seemed significant and rock-filled, making them beyond our abilities, especially when any route through would involve negotiating a fairly tight S-shaped channel. But the base of the rapids had all the elements we could have hoped for: very fast but straight current over a nice stretch of river, unlittered with rocks, some small haystacks to play in, distinct eddy lines on both sides of the main current, water deep enough to make an unexpected dunking safe, and finally, a big open and calm area immediately downstream, ensuring that one wouldn't have to chase the canoe or paddles a long distance in the event of an upset.

It's also a picture perfect picnic spot. Near river right, in the calmer waters where the river widens sits a large flat platform of a rock on which several people could comfortably relax and sun themselves after a swim, all with a clear view of the rapids upstream. The moment I saw it I knew we could practice many of the whitewater paddling techniques we'd learned last August at the Madawaska Kanu Centre. Ilana didn't want to try at first but eventually reluctantly yeilded to my urgings to try a few simple river moves.

We removed all the extraneous gear from the boat (dry bag, water bottles, etc) so we wouldn't have to chase unnecessary gear if we wiped out before discussing exactly what we'd do if we did wipe out: hold onto your paddle, get yourself upstream and clear of the overturned or swamped boat, float on your back with feet up and pointing them downstream until safely in deeper and slower water when it would then be safe to swim after the boat.

We began with a simple front ferry upstream, moving from our secure eddy behind that large flat rock on river right into and against the current, crossing at an angle to a great big eddy on river left. It went smoothly. From there we paddled up that eddy to where the water was moving really fast but still well below the ledges and drops. We took a moment to reminding ourselves of the technique for peeling out into a current and then we paddled hard inside the eddy driving the boat upstream and then angling the boat into the current a little until we felt the boat slow against the onrushing water, at which point we initiated a hard turn to the left and tilted the boat downstream, letting the current grab the bow and help us make our 180 degree turn. It was not a fast or daring turn and we stayed clear of the fastest part of the current, but the move was correct, if a little awkward. Not bad for a first try.

We followed the current downstream intending to eddy out behind the big flat rock where we'd begun but we were late in initiating the turn and we almost shot by it. We had to paddle hard upstream after spinning the boat 180 degrees to get ourselves back into the eddy. Pretty ugly move. We tried it all over a second time. The front ferry from river right to left was easy. The peel out into the current was a bit better, and this time we went out into the fast part of the water, enjoying the bounce from some wee haystacks. We eddied out behind the big rock again and this time it felt perfect. Our best eddy turn ever...and no instructor there to see it. We tried the whole thing a third time, but the eddy turn was sloppy. At this point Ilana put her foot down on my fun. Her arms were getting sore from doing crossbow draws for the eddy turns and she feared she'd pull a muscle if we kept at it. Since we intended to be canoe camping Algonquin two days later, she didn't want to be left with an injury. I grumbled at having to stop after only three attempts, but I was so happy to have found a nice safe spot with these river features only an hour's paddle from where we spend our summers that nothing could could get me down.

I hadn't done any solo paddling yet this season and had never done so in moving water, so I told Ilana I wanted to try what we'd just done in tandem by myself. She was concerned that I'd wipe out but I didn't care. I thought a good dunking would be a fine price to pay for the experience. From the safety of the big rock she could even get photos of me wiping out. I moved to the middle of the canoe and front ferried across. That part was easy, especially since I had a nice strong gust of wind blowing at me from behind, directly against the current to help me along. The peel out was a mess though.

Our canoe is not a playboat. It's a 16'-6" Prospector, designed for tandem whitewater tripping. When paddled solo, especially by someone as inexperienced at soloing and moving water as I, it's a challenge. The challenge was made worse by the strong gusts of wind. At one point, while trying to peel out, the wind was holding me fast in one spot for several seconds - broadside - right in the middle of the current I was doing bow pries like mad to crank the canoe around downstream. I guess with just my weight the boat sits pretty high in the water and the high profile of the ends catch a lot of wind. I made my way downstream and tried to eddy out, but completely overshot my target. Ilana got a few good shots though.

Once back in the starting position behind the big rock I front ferried across the river again. Instead of moving up along that bank to peel out again I turned around (facing downstream) and sideslipped the canoe from the eddy on river left way out into the main current. To my surprise, with the wind's assistance, I was able to back-ferry a little bit upstream.












I ended by doing a clean eddy turn behind the big rock. Ilana handed me the gear we'd removed and climbed back in. We were just tickled to have found this spot. We'll definately be back for more practice, though it's unclear if all these features will still be there when water levels drop as the rains ease off.




It was now about 2pm and time to head back. We headed downstream and passed an angler trolling along in a small aluminum boat. He asked if Brooks Falls was ahead. We told him it was, but that the way there was blocked by a small rapid. There was no telling how many such rapids there would be between here and Brooks Falls. He headed up to take a look for himself as we went in the other direction, enjoying how the current made the distances seem so much shorter.

We kept an eye out for patches of cattails. Ilana wanted to gather about a dozen or so cattail stalks to add as a side dish for supper later that night. In a marshy area near the golf course we backed the boat right into the shallows and we reached overboard into the water and began pulling up cattails. Within minutes we had over a dozen. Ilana later steamed them and served them with a little olive oil, salt and pepper.












With the assistance of the current we made it back to the Lawtons's cove by 3 pm, literally in half the time it took us to paddle out. Our next trip will likely be a two-night camping trip into Algonquin, just to shake the rust off of ourselves, but if we don't have a solid two days of sunshine in the forecast, I'm pretty sure we'll be right back here while the water's still high.

14th: Perry Lake to Little Beaver Lake in Kearney

Our objective for our third day trip was to explore a possible loop route we'd cooked up a few days before when our original plan to paddle down the Magnetawan from Kearney to Katrine was frustrated by a dam and a series of dangerous rapids. The plan for today was to drive to Kearney from Katrine again and put-in at the same boat launch in the hopes of finding a stream out of the southern tip of Perry Lake which might lead into Hog Lake and from there we might work out a route through some more creeks to the creek that leads into the pond and floodplains on the Magnetawan ultimately allowing us to paddle back into Perry Lake and complete our loop. I had my river shoes on and was prepared to wade the canoe through bogs, shallow creeks, and portage across country roads, but it was all for naught as it turned out.

We'd already had lunch that day so we took the canoe off the truck, loaded it up quickly with the dry bag, PFDs, paddles, throwbag and bailer, stopping only long enough to take a few closeup photos of a wee turtle sunning itself in the grass near the beach at the Lion's Park boat launch.

The sky was a mix of sun and clouds but it was warm out with a good strong breeze on Perry Lake. We paddled down it's length only to find that their was high ground at the southern end of the lake, meaning there was no navigable waterway except perhaps in early spring flood.

Even though it was a Saturday the lake was free of motorboats, so there was no way were going home just yet. We decided to make the most of it and paddle north, right through Kearney, hoping to find the tiny channel that led westwards out of Perry Lake north of the bridge. That impromptu goal also fell through when we discovered the channel on the map was nothing more than a roadside drainage ditch. Grrr.

We headed further north into Hassard lake. Ilana and I have been musing a lot about buying a small parcel of land in these parts, so we hugged the shore, looking at all the waterfront properties - developed and undeveloped - talking about which ones we liked and didn't, working out what sort of thing we'd want to have if we ever decide to buy land bordering a lake. It was not turning into a very memorable paddling trip so far, but as a good friend and fellow paddler once pointed out to me when we were paddling tiny Sharon Creek for the sake of it some years ago, "Any day is a good day when you're canoeing." Wise words from Joe.

We passed the occasional couple swimming from their docks, anglers in their rowboats as we moved north and then east into Beaver Lake. Here I spotted some sort of waterfowl sitting on a fallen tree which jutted out from the wooded shore. Ilana got the camera ready as I manoevred the boat slowly towards shore for her to get a closer photo. The lighting was bad, so the photo came out a little grainy even though the bird (a female Merganze, I think) allowed us to get quite close before taking flight in a loud flap, crossing the entire breadth of the lake only a foot above the water the whole way.

We had the wind at our backs as we paddled to the very eastern end of Beaver Lake, aiming straight for mouth of the narrow channel which leads into Little Beaver Lake. We saw a woman paddling her canoe out of the channel in our direction. We could see her struggling as she left the wind-sheltered narrow channel and nosed into windy Beaver Lake. She was paddling by herself from the stern while her dog sat in the bow. The dog's weight was not enough to offset her own, so her bow was riding high and she had to paddle hard to counter the little gusts that forced her bow off course. We watched her switching paddling sides repeatedly as the high-riding bow weathervaned from side to side. Had we been in speaking distance I might have suggested she move further forward towards the middle to better trim her canoe, but before we reached the mouth of the channel where we'd first seen her struggling had already been blown towards the northern shore and was making her way around the lake by the longest possible route, apparently unable or unwilling to cut straight across. Or maybe she just wanted to draw out her trip too.

The narrow channel into Little Beaver Lake held a surprise for us - a little swift, perhaps a few dozen metres long, with a very significant incline at the top, meaning we'd have to paddle upstream and uphill against fast-moving water. Normally one would just portage around such an obstacle or use the painters to track the boat upstream from the shore or even just wade the boat upstream, but there was no room to stand on on either bank as they were both tangles of trees and shrubs and I didn't feel like wading in the cold current either. I decided our best bet was to build up speed and paddle hard and fast for a few minutes and hope we could get over that little hill of oncoming water before our arms gave out.

We tried that...heading straight for the darker tongue of deeper water, but as we proceeded the water moved faster as the incline increased and our arms grew more fatigued. Any onlookers would have split their sides lauging at the sight of us struggling up the deeper main current only to give up and bang our paddles on river bottom when we were forced to veer aside into the shallower parts to escape the main rush of water. We bickered the whole time, with Ilana complaining that my stern pries were rocking the boat too much for her comfort and me urging her not to give up and keep on paddling. Too tired to make it up that hill, we let the current turn us broadside and then we aimed downstream into calmer waters. We argued over whether to try again or declare the current victorious.

Then...a miracle happened: I convinced Ilana to try it again, even though she'd be more tired on this second effort. But this time we had a plan. We built up speed as we approached the swift, paddling up through the deep part of the channel, but this time allowing the current to ferry us to one side into shallower eddies behind some exposed boulders. We rested there, jamming our paddles against the river bottom to hold us in position for fear we'd drift backwards with the current and lose precious ground. After a quick breather we nosed the bow out into the current again while paddling hard forward to gain a bit more ground and ferry upstream across the main tongue into another bit of slower, shallower water on the other side. We kept going this way, comically gaining a few feet of ground at a time by paddling maddly against the current, ferrying over a few feet into shallows, jamming our paddles against the bottom to hold us in place, until we got over the steepest part of the incline. Once over the incline we found ourselves in the center of the channel with weary arms. Even though we were over the worst part it felt like all of Little Beaver Lake was rushing at us to push us backwards down that incline again. Between gasps I shouted words of encouragement from the stern. "We're almost there, don't give up now." The most maddening part of the whole effort was that we had only travelled upstream a couple of dozen metres or so and it had taken several long minutes to do so...plenty of time for the mosquitoes to swarm us as we inched forward. This is called fun...in hindsight.

After another minute of bug-stressed struggling we reached the calm flat water of Little Beaver Lake. Little Beaver Lake is a sweet little lake with only 3 cottages on one shore and nice island in the middle of it, but Ilana's upper back was beginning to ache after our epic upstream struggle and she wanted to head back before we she hurt herself for real. She was worried that paddle back would take over an hour and that crossing Beaver Lake might be a challenge because we'd have the wind in our faces the whole time. I guffawed and thought we could make it back in 30 minutes if we paddled straight and didn't take breaks for photos, etc.

We turned the boat around and paddled back to our swift, enjoying the current this time, instead of fighting it. We even practiced angling the boat so that the stern was aimed closer to the inside turn of the swift to make sure we didn't get pushed to the outer bank by the current as it rounded a bend. It worked like a charm, though we brushed very close to an exposed rock at one point.

We eddied out on the right shore so Ilana could hop out for a pee in the woods. The mosquitoes were on her like...well, like mosquitoes on a bare exposed bottom. She was plenty bug-stressed by the time she hopped back into the boat. We tried a 'peel out' into the current, but it was a poorly executed move, so not very exciting. We need to practice what we learned last August at the Madawaska Kanu Centre before we forget it all.

We headed down the wind-sheltered channel and out into Beaver Lake. Our canoe was nicely trimmed and with two paddlers it was no problem at all to keep a straight course and drive straight back into Hassard Lake, slowing only long enough to snap some close photos of several mated pairs of Canada Geese and their goslings feeding by the shoreline.



We were back at the boat launch on Perry Lake in almost exactly 45 minutes - halfway between both of our estimates. We loaded up the boat and paddling gear and Ilana did a little excavating on the playground before we drove away.

We had a few stops to make on the way home. First was the general store in Kearney to get a copy of the topo map for this area for use on subsequent day trips, but they had marked up the price so much we turned up our noses and off again.


While on Bevan road we spotted a nice large turtle on the roadside. Next stop was a hobby farm on Deer Lake road where bought a dozen farm fresh eggs.

The last stop was Brooks Falls park. We went in just long enough to take a few photos of the rapids and falls. The light wasn't as good as it had been on the first day but we'll likely try again the next time we're in the area. We still need to collect some of those Indian Cucumber roots.

10th: The Magnetawan near Kearney

Just a few days after our first lilly-dip of the season we took advantage of another warm breezy and fairly unbuggy June day to explore another little stretch of the Magnetawan.

The plan was to start at Perry Lake and paddle downstream along the Magnetawan as far as we could before coming to unrunnable rapids. Our map of the area lacked topographic features so without contour lines there was no way to know where such rapids might be. We knew from the area map we had with us of a dam along the way and hoped we could portage around that. Our hope was to make it downstream to the cottage which had marked our destination on our last trip upstream paddle from Katrine. The current had been slight enough that we thought we could put in a couple of hours of downstream paddling and still have plenty of energy left to paddle back upstream to our starting point at Perry Lake.

We drove from Katrine to Kearney via Highway 11 south, took the Deer Lake road exit eastwards. I was disappointed to see that where Deer Lake road passed over the Magnetawan there were some serious rapids on the left. We continued on Deer Lake Road to where the road abruptly changes from pavement to dirt and gravel. This is actually the beginning of Bevan Road and we followed it right to the end, turning right onto highway 518 into downtown Kearney. Parked at the Algonquin Park office to get directions to the nearest boat launch where we could put in on Perry Lake. On one of the walls was a series of maps of Algonquin park and the area west of the park, including a good scale topographic map of the very part of the Magnetawan we intended to paddle. I noticed several places where contour lines crossed the river. Not good.

With this weighing a bit on my mind we drove the short distance to the Lions Municipal Park and had a snack of bread and cheese before heading out straight across Perry Lake and down the Magnetawan. To our surprise, despite being a cottage-ringed lake, there were no other boats on the lake at all. A midweek day trip during buggy June seems to be the recipe for having the water all to yourself.

There are numerous cottages lining both sides of the river near Perry Lake, but they become more widely spaced apart within a few minutes of leaving the Perry Lake area and they disappear completely after a few bends in the river. The weather was warm and breezy. No bugs to worry about at all on this day.

This stretch of the Magnetawan was a little different from the last one we paddled near Katrine. The river here is significantly wider and the banks are lined by large cedars with lots of impressively large trees leaning out from the banks of the river into our path and threatening to collapse into the river from their own weight and horizontal growth.

The lovely floodplain we eventually came to presented us with the option to proceed down the Mag towards the dam or to paddle southwards down some winding creeks to who knows where. We stuck with our plan and stayed with the main channel and soon came within sight of Galbraith (Ayers) Dam right where highway 518 crosses over the river. There was no sign of a trail or portage route on either side of the river and both banks appeared to be privately owned by full-time residents. On river left we saw a small fishing boat with outboard and fishing tackle in it. We landed on the bank beside it, hopped out and dragged our boat ashore alongside the fishing boat. We were standing on someone's grassy waterfront property so we were eager to see if we could somehow dash across the highway with the canoe and put in on the other side of the dam.

As we walked up the hill from the water's edge to the highway to see what lay beyond the dam the owner was pulling his pick-up truck into his driveway. I waved to him and approached and explained that we'd just taken out of the river on his property in the hopes of getting around the dam. Could we leave our boat there for a few minutes while went ahead on foot to see where we could put in on the other side? He was very genial and thought it no imposition at all, though I had some difficulty understanding some of what he said as he spoke in a very thick German accent. When I asked if he knew where we could put in on the other side and if the river was runnable he pointed behind me, across the highway, and assured me we could put in over there and that there was only one other dam a long way downstream and that the river went all the way to Georgian Bay. I knew the Mag emptied out into Georgian Bay, but I also knew there were many damns and rapids along the way. I had the feeling he wasn't that familiar with the course of the river beyond the dam. I also knew that there were rapids immediately downstream from where the river passes under Deer Lake Road since I'd seen them myself on our drive to Kearney. So, I took his advice with a grain of salt and hoped the river would be safely runnable between the dam and the rapids at Deer Lake road. I thanked him and promised not to leave our boat on his property for long and Ilana and I hurried across the highway for a view of dam.

There was a wide path on the other side of the road, running right to the dam. The roar of the water pouring over and the turbulent stretch of water visible beyond the dam filled Ilana and I with excitement, rekindling the rush we had experienced last august running the Madawaska and Ottawa rivers as part of a white water course we'd taken at the Madawaska Kanu Centre. We walked along the shore of river left, peering as far ahead as we could to see hoping the river widened enough for the water to slow down, but as far as we walked and looked ahead all we could see was churning water, froth, ledges, and granite boulders in mid stream. This was one long looking set of unrunnable rapids. Portaging was also out of the question, since there was no trail along the water's edge and there were signs warning that both sides of the river were private property, including the river bottom (??) and that trespassing was prohibited. This was the end of the line. Our hope of paddling and portaging all the way to where we'd stopped on our first paddle of the season a few days before ended right then and there. Still, it was worth that bit of disappointment to feel that thrill-seeking rush at the sight and sound of those rapids.

We walked back across the highway and agreed that this had been too short a day trip, so we decided to paddle back upstream to the floodplain and explore some of the small unnamed creeks. Checking our map again it looked as if it might be possible to paddle from the pond and floodplain southwards, then eastwards and hop from one small pond and creek to another until we could make our way back into the very southern tip of Perry Lake. The small scale map we had made it appear very feasible though it would likely make for a long day of paddling if we couldn't close the loop. I really wanted that topographic map we'd seen at the Algonquin Park office, but they hadn't had any for sale.

We paddled quickly back to the floodplain and slowed right down there. There's something about shallow, grassy, reedy floodplains and marshes that just makes one want to take it slow. Ilana broke out the camera and took a few shots of red winged blackbirds perched vertically on waving last year's cattail stalks. We happened upon a duck floating very nearby and Ilana was able to snap a good clear photo of it as it took flight.
The pond, floodplain, and creek turned out to be the nicest part of this trip. There are only two cottages on east side and they are set well back from the water and the tiny channel we passed through from the banks. There's all kinds of bird life here and the shallow pond water is strewn with submerged and partially exposed tree roots and stumps, proof positive that the dam downstream flooded and drowned what had once been forested.

We lilly-dipped a bit too much however. By the time we arrived at the first country road blocking our path we realized that it was getting a bit late in the day to portage across and test our theory that we could loop our way back into Perry Lake. If the loop was possible, it would be no problem, but if we almost made it and were blocked at some point, it would be a needlessly long paddle back. We discussed it and resolved to head back the way we'd come and return to Perry Lake within a few days and see if there was in fact a southern channel out of Perry Lake which could potentially hook up with this creek we were on. We beached the canoe by the roadside to stretch our legs on dry land for a few minutes then headed back for the Magnetawan.

On the way back out of the creek we happened upon a white tailed deer in the tall grass, but it saw us first so we mostly saw it's white rump and the white underside of it's tail as it bounded out of view into the treeline. The sight of all those cattails in the pond gave Ilana a hankering to taste some cattail stalk to see what it was like at this time of year at this stage of growth. We both enjoy wild edibles so we plunged the canoe into a grassy part of the pond and Ilana stabilized the canoe while I reached over the gunwhale in the water to pull up one of the larger cattails. Uprooting a cattail shoot is harder than it sounds. When small, they just pull up easily, but by the time the plant is several feet long, the base of the stalk is a good inch across and it doesn't yeild easily. As I struggled to pull the stalk up the stern of the boat sunk deeper and the boat listed to my side. Ilana leaned the other way to prevent my gunwhale from getting too low. When the stalk finally came free it was like pulling a stubborn cork from a wine bottle. It came free suddenly and we were rocked in the boat comically. But, it was worth the near mishap. The white base of the stalk at this stage is tender and delicious, having much the texture of palm hearts. Most wild stalks get woodier or more bitter after early spring, so this was a pleasant surprise. So much food for so little effort.

From there we headed back upstream along the Magnetawan. The sunny weather was still holding up so I took off my shirt to get some vitamin D. By the time we arrived at our boat launch on Perry Lake Ilana's back was getting stiff, she discovered her forearms were mildly sunburned and my palms were near the blistery stage, but we ended our second trip of the season with three new paddling objectives:
1 - Return to Perry Lake to see if the loop we had in mind could be completed.
2 - To start out on the Magnetawan from Katrine again and head upstream as far as possible to see how far we can get before coming to more unrunnable rapids.
3 - Buy a copy of the 31E/11 (Burks Falls) topographic map the next time we're in Huntsville.

We drove back the way we had come, stopping shortly after the bridge on Deer Lake road where Ilana had noticed some sort of municipal park called Brooks Falls Municipal Park. This turned out to be a little gem of a spot for a picnic as it affords visitors a really impressive, close-up view of a long series of rapids, including a river-wide chute.

Unfortunately we left the camera in the truck in the parking area and neither of us felt like walking back to get it, though the light on that day would have made for some great photos. Here are a couple of photos of the falls taken on another visit.











We walked the trail along the river left bank in both directions and it was one long succession of dangerous rapids. Along the way Ilana spied a delicious and choice wild edible, Indian Cucumber root. Indian Cucumber root is that rare wild edible - delicious tasting by any standards, right out of the ground, without any preparation. In fact, there was a large patch of it, so we determined to return another day to harvest a few and take some photos of the falls and rapids. Two delicious wild edible finds in one day! That alone makes for a great day for us. Can't wait to come back.

3rd: The first lilly-dip of the season

We've spent the last two summers here in Katrine, Ontario where the two branches of the Magnetawan River meet. During those two summers we only paddled two little stretches of the river between Katrine and Burks Falls. This year we hope to explore more of it.

The route of our first day paddle of the season was occasioned by a small exploratory day hike which began at our campground. We're fortunate that Almaguin Campground is situated on a small lake (Owl Lake) which has a network of paths that ring and radiate outwards from the lake. One such path led us through some dense, hilly and buggy woods and terminated on someone's secluded summer cottage right on the banks of the Magnetawan. It was clear from the poor and seldom traveled ATV trail we'd followed to get here that the owners of this lovely piece of real estate traveled to and from it by boat along the Magnetawan. We weren't sure where this choice cottage location was along the Magnetawan but we had a pretty good idea since we could hear highway 11 construction noises in the distance and we could see a short stretch of train tracks running closely parallel to the part of the Magnetawan we were looking at. We decided then to plan a short afternoon trip to this location via canoe just for the satisfaction of pinpointing where this trail ended on a map.


When we returned to our trailer (affectionately known to us as 'the keep') in Almaguin Campground we pulled out our map of the area to see if we could infer where the trail had taken us and to figure out where to put-in with our canoe and how long it would take to paddle to where we thought that secluded cottage was.

Some days later (the first week in June) we noticed the bugs were not as numerous as usual, so that clinched it. I loaded the canoe atop the truck and we packed a dry bag with the usual day-tripping gear: water bottles, some snack foods, map, camera, sun screen, bug repellant and GPS. Although it was a sunny, breezy day the Magnetawan is a narrow, winding river that's heavily wooded so we brought along our bug jackets just in case we found ourselves paddling through swarms of black flies on those narrow wind-sheltered stretches of the river.


With gear and canoe ready we drove the 4 kilometres from our campground to the boat launch at Lawton's Cove on Little Doe Lake in Katrine. The two branches of the Magnetawan flow westwards from Algonquin Park and converge just before Little Doe Lake where we were putting in that day. From there the river flows further westwards out of Little Doe into other lakes and westwards on towards Georgian Bay.

As usual, I unstrapped the canoe and portaged it to the water's edge while Ilana carried the dry bag, paddles and PFDs. Shortly before lunch our paddles were in the water and we paddled along the beach of towards the mouth of the river. You really have to love that feeling of lightness and freedom that washes over you during those first few minutes of paddling after a long hiatus. It never fails to impress me how effortlessly we glide along in a canoe, even when I anticipate that very feeling as I step into the boat and push off from the water's edge. That satisfying feeling gave way to awkwardness minutes later though when we rounded a bend and came into a strong breeze. Effortlessness immediately turned into self-conscious effort to paddle in unison and make course correcting strokes, but within a few more minutes muscle-memory took over and the head-on breeze gave us the false feeling of fast travel.

Within minutes we came to the confluence of the two branches and headed down the more southernly branch in search of the secluded cottage. The black flies were out in force, but the breeze kept them off us for the most part. Provided we didn't stop too often they trailed harmlessly behind our heads as we paddled along.

For no good reason I thought this branch of the Magnetawan would be flowing out of Little Doe Lake and we'd have the slow current with us, but a glance down at the reeds bending with the current under the surface of the water set me straight. Had I considered more carefully what was obviously implied by the map of the area I would have seen that it would have been a hydrodynamic miracle of the very first order if this branch of the Magnetawan flowed the way I had assumed. Duh.

The first 30 minutes of this trip was unremarkable. The river banks are a mixture of woods, grassy fields and manicured waterfront cottage properties and small wooden docks with parked outboard pleasure boats. But after one passes under the highway 11 overpasses these signs of civilization give way to dense bird-filled woods on both sides. Except for the distant rumble of highway trucks one can trick oneself into thinking one is paddling a remote river.

We were lilly-dipping our way along against the gentle current, taking in the bird sounds and peering into the shallow water at the bends in the river, checking to see at what stage of growth the pond lillies were, when Ilana noticed a red squirrel swimming across the narrow ribbon of water right in front of us. That's a rare enough sight that we decided to take a photo. Ilana fumbled hurriedly with the camera while I did a few gentle stern pries to move the canoe parallel to our wet and nervous photographic subject for a closer shot. It was then that I noticed a sudden movement on the river bank wed been approaching. Our approach had startled something very big and brown - possibly a moose or a deer - into crashing away from the river bank into the tangle of tree. There was no characteristic flash of white tail fur so I was hoping to get a glimpse of a moose...but it was gone. My urgent cry of "Look! Look!" startled Ilana and the red squirrel...and it doubled back away from us to the other bank of the river before Ilana was able to take a well-focused photo. Sigh.


Right near here I made an amusing navigational blunder. Both sides of this part of the Magnetawan are heavily wooded, making it impossible to see much beyond a few yards inland. We thought we were paddling along a narrow series of bends when in fact we had completely circled a fair-sized island which didn't appear on the small scale map we had with us. I was quite disoriented until I recognized a very distinct dead cedar which I remembered passing a few minutes before because it was the only red spot in dense field of green.


We paddled on and knew we were closing in on our destination when we sighted a small golf course which is bounded on one side by the Magnetawan. We paddled past the barren course and passed underneath a small train bridge. Vestiges of an older train bridge were still visible directly beneath the one we paddeled under. Paddling parallel to the raised train tracks we expected the cottage we were looking for to come into view at the next bend. It did and we passed by it, admiring it's seeming remoteness despite being only about 45 minutes paddle away from a heavily used lake and boat launch and 5 minutes past a golf course.

We passed the property, turned the boat around, put down our paddles and let the canoe drift back downstream as we nibbled on some snack bars and peppery meat sticks. With our tiny mission accomplished we paddled back the way we came, this time avoiding the needless circling of the island, and paddling a little faster to escape the blackflies that seemed to have an easier time keeping up with us on the way back.

Ilana snapped a few more photos of her view from the bow and we waved at the construction workers hard at work on the highway 11 overpass as we slipped quietly underneath it and back to the cottage-lined part of the river. Our timing was pretty perfect. The skies had been mostly clear on the way out but clouds were gathering as we made our way back and there were small whitecaps on Little Doe Lake as we paddled perpendicular the wind back to the Lawton's Cove boat launch. We beached the boat and began the ritual of removing our emergency throwbag, plastic bailer, paddles, PFDs and dry bag, all of which Ilana brought to the truck while I carried the canoe back and loaded it atop the truck. We were happy to have accomplished our little mission and the first 90 minute lilly-dip of the season left us both with the beginnings of paddling calluses on our hands.