The Kattawagami River - July 2014 - Part 2: Days 4-6

One of my favourite pictures of the trip - from day six.

Day Four:

As I am at 87% battery power, I've decided to start using the bluetooth keyboard Tim has lent me rather than trying to type on the iPad. This may mean I can add details more quickly, or it may mean I'll have to break out the solar charger to boost the iPad.

Today we paddled about 18-20 kms, and encounter numerous rapids. There are no good topographic maps of this river, so it is impossible to know at times where we are. Every once and a while we hit a very obvious feature - and usually it is not as far as I'd like to get. Today, we made pretty good time.

There was at least 8 marked rapids today, although there are so many more with the lower water. With high water, much of what we experience as swifts and class ones would likely disappear. But, an advantage of low water is that as we move into the shield portion of the river we have ledges and rocks to line boats, to portage on, and, importantly, to fish from. Today fishing wasn't great for me. I broke the tip of the other road, bushwhacking through one portage. Oh well. The guys did ok, with Buck catching several fall fish (like a white fish or golden eye), and a few pickerel. He caught at least one decent one, but too early in the day. I landed one small pickerel, a small pike, and lost a few small pickerel.

We saw lots of rapids like this one.

Today was our first day of rain. Just as we were breaking camp, it started to spit. Within a few minutes of being on the river, it was pouring rain. Thankfully, it didn't last too long. In fact, a few times I thought we'd get hit hard again, but it never came. We eventually got sun, a strong wind to dry stuff out, and were able to set up camp in nice weather. A definite bonus for mental health!

Speaking of which, last night wasn't a great sleep again. I'm sure I dozed off, but I woke up feeling tired and unrested. After I blogged a bit last night, I felt quite tired and just tried to fall asleep. Didn't quite work out that way. Shane, on the other hand, is almost asleep before he's in his sleeping bag. In fact, I think one day he was asleep before getting in his bag. Me, I just lay there. I decided to take a little helper, although itdDidn't give me the sound sleep I had hoped for. Maybe tonight.

Today I ran more rapids than I thought I would. I'm riding shotgun with Tim, which boosts my confidence. I’m also remembering how to paddle! The first day was kind of jumping feet first. I expected flat water for the first 100 kms with the odd rapid – this is how I told myself I would cope – and instead encountered many little rapids and swifts. Far too many rocks found their way into Shane's and my path, ultimately shaking my confidence. I'm still wary, as tomorrow we hit rapid after rapid. In fact, in about 5-10 kms up the river, we hit so many rapids in a row that if the shore is good enough, and the rapids big enough, I might just walk most of it!

Shane & Buck paddling through the burn.

Sadly, I know the shoreline likely won't work. This topography is much different from what I'm used to. The underbrush on the sides of the river is often extremely thick. When walking through it I've found myself signing songs loudly, just in case of an unexpected bear or moose. Buck would laugh at this thought. He's quick to point out that animals are completely unfamiliar with people up here, given the remoteness, and would bugger off at the first sight or sound. [note: since our return, I’ve read at least two accounts of bear attacks in remote locations, including one only a few hundred kms to the east of where we were paddling.]

There has been plenty of sign of animals: game trails alongside the river, scat (mostly moose and caribou), and tracks. So far, all we've mostly seen birds – including both a juvenile and a mature bald eagle, and an osprey with a fish in its talons – and a river otter. Can't blame the animals for not wanting to stick around. This is a godforsaken land, truly.

Today also presented the first real paddling challenge. Tim and I ran a different line than Buck and Shane on a seemingly easy and shallow rapid. When we eddied to view the upcoming rapids, we left ourselves with only one really viable route out – it looked simple, just ride the water past a big rock. Rather than have the boat follow the water past the big rock, however, we got stuck - really stuck - on a little rock beyond the big rock that neither of us saw. Tim immediately jumped into action, telling me how to lean, what to do. Nothing worked. He later likened his approach to being a pilot going through a checklist of things to do before taking off - one by one, every attempt to free the boat failed. Buck and Shane were already down river – catching fall fish, we'd learn shortly – while Tim and I both exited the boat, and he proceeded to pass me all of the gear before the boat wrapped around the rock.

Drying out at lunch, shortly after the boat incident on the rock.

I could see the boat flexing and the indentation as the water put its enormous force behind it. Crazy thing was that this wasn't even very big water. It was a wide part of the river, where it had branched off, and wasn't very deep or fast. Nevertheless, the boat was pinned. Eventually, as more and more gear left the boat to be perched on a nearby rock, the boat popped out. Then we had to empty it completely, flip it to drain the water, and repack. All we lost was a fuel bottle. Coincidentally, Shane and Buck found a fuel bottle while fishing downstream.

Shane's Inukshuk will likely drown in the spring, as I suspect this will be a roaring river.

The little hang up today is a good reminder that we might be slowed down by unforeseen issues. Thankfully, we've had few so far. We typically get out early (around 8:30) and camp when we find a good site (as early as 6:30, as late at 7:45). We've only got about 85 kms left of the river. On flat water, we could do that in two or three days. Here? Who knows? It will be important to go slow, to take our time, and to be safe. Thankfully, nobody has felt the push to run any big water – except Tim early on, but he had no gear, a good thing, as he dumped. I think that experience was a good one, as we realized then if we dumped a lot, we'd spent an awful amount of time getting gear, not to mention being cold. I think everyone wants to be safe, but they seem happy to accommodate my need to get through faster. We could have camped a touch earlier today, but we pressed on. Not very far, but we did press on.

Campsite number four .

I'm hoping for a good sleep tonight. I could use it. Either way, I'll take the little helper. It serves a dual purpose – helping me sleep and reducing anxiety. Don't know how well it works, but given all that happened today, and my lessened state of anxiety, perhaps the little pill did wonders for me.

It will be good to get this river done and over with. It is a long trek, with many nights sleeping dirty, stinky, covered with sunscreen and deet, reeking of smoke, etc. That said, it has been a pretty fun trek so far. Admittedly, I'd prefer it to end tomorrow, but we're making progress. Hopefully tomorrow's entry indicates a successful day, without any boats almost being wrapped around a rock, and 12-15 kms. Many other bloggers had days of 6 or 7 km. I'd like to avoid those if I could, and to steadily get closer to the 143-144 km mark: at that point, the river goes from one of Northern Ontario's craziest whitewater routes to 60 kms of flat water that empties into Hannah Bay. At that point, all I need to do is work with the tides (when they become relevant), and hope that our shuttle service is on time and able to pick us up. Apparently, poor weather delayed some poor chaps about four days earlier this year. Must remember to encourage Buck to use the satellite phone to remind the shuttle once we are close.

Shane left this tree alone, but chopped down another … because he could.

....

Day Five:

Tonight it is not the buzzing of mosquitoes outside the tent. Instead, it is the constant dropping of rain. It's been raining for about three and a half or four hours now. It would be very lovely if it stopped sometime before morning, allowing us to dry out.

Running a small rapid.

So far, we've been lucky for weather. I believe I mentioned earlier that weather would probably make the mental state of affairs worse. We've fortunately had great weather. Yesterday we started out in rain, but had a really warm and sunny afternoon, and a windy evening, so we were dry. Last night I decided to put the fly on the full way (other nights, we've left it half off for fresh air), which ended up being a wise decision as it rained in the early morning. Nevertheless, we awoke to an overcast but otherwise dry morning. The wind had even dried the tent!

Today the clouds followed us everywhere. At times they looked ominous. At one point it did rain for a bit - enough that we decided to make a fire at lunch. We stopped for lunch later today as we got out of camp late. A late start means less kilometers, which means more days on the river. Everyone was enthusiastic, however, about our chances of making good distance. I think we ended up doing six kilometres.

Lots of fun portaging.

Part of that has to do with the rapids. There are many now. In addition to the marked ones, the river is constantly dropping making for lots of swifts. A few of the rapids we had to portage, including a huge, beautiful section of the river full of waterfalls. It is hard to imagine the water that must flow over this section in high water. I walked only one or two other rapids today. I ran a big one with Tim. I was nervous. We ended up taking on a bunch of water, and almost swamping the boat, but we stayed afloat. I stayed relatively calm, even though I was a bit freaked out.

Buck and Shane running a rapid - might have been
the one Tim and I took water on …. or another one.
Too many to keep track of!

We have roughly 18-19 kms of intense rapids ahead of us. At best, that it two or three days. If we are lucky, we can make get 9-10 kms tomorrow, and the remainder the next day. That would put us into the flatwater section on Friday, and the lodge to be picked up on Saturday or Sunday, for the train ride Sunday. Realistically, we can't make the Friday train, so Sunday is the end game for me. I can't be too vocal about it, as I don't want to annoy everyone, although I think today’s events will make people anxious to get home as well.

Warming up by the fire - Shane & Buck dumped in the rapid in the background. 

At the last rapid we did today, we stopped for our lunch and had a fire to warm ourselves up from the rain. It was a nice break, with some good coffee. Shane and Buck decided to run the rapid, despite some apprehension about dumping. They ended up going for a drink, but thankfully were ok. Nothing was lost from the boat, although it did sustain some damage to the nose [note: Buck might have lost his spare paddle here – it is not clear, but at some point in the next 24 hours it went missing, so this seems like a reasonable conclusion]. More importantly, the guys were ok, although Shane did bang up his leg. Tim and I portaged our boat, and in so doing suffered the worst injury of the trip. On our way back to get our boat, he either slipped or missed the rock, banging up his leg pretty bad. Looked like it hurt a lot. Sometime, what that boy endures for canoeing really impresses me. Portaging can be pretty dangerous, as there are no trails, and the underbrush can be thick. I sometimes have walked with a paddle to make certain there is solid ground underfoot.

Paddling in the rain.

After the boys took a drink and Tim banged up his knee, it started to rain. And not just a little. It really rained. It also started to thunder. We headed for the nearest suitable shore. Using some fire-starter Buck had, we spent about an hour or so under a tarp, getting smoked out, trying to scrape off wet bark to make a decent fire. Buck got out his ax and procured some dry wood. As soon as the fire was decent, we decided to leave, realizing that we had to make a choice: stay by the fire, and set up camp where we were, which was awful, or move on slightly down stream to the top of the next rapid, where there was an exposed area of rock, and hope for a better site. We knew that once tents were up, there would be no interest in sitting around a fire. As the sky looked uniform, suggesting lots of rain, we made that decision to move on. That was almost two hours ago, and it hasn't stopped raining yet.

Once we got here, Buck and I took turns setting up our tents, while the other guys held up the tarp. Tim rummaged up some dinner (beef jerky, trail mix, and Clif bars) from the barrels, and delivered it to the tents, where Shane I were already trying to dry off and warm up. The other guys are too far away to communicate, and nobody will be going out in this weather unless absolutely necessary. Shane's reading. I'm writing this. Soon, we'll eat our dinner, maybe we'll read some more, and then I'll definitely get some helpers to put me to sleep. The hope will be that tomorrow we wake up to nothing but the sound of the rushing water beside us. That'll be a really good thing. We'd likely start a fire on the rocks, make some food, and try to air out our stuff. If it is still raining, we can't even really communicate to know how to call it. Stay in the tents for a bit, and wait it out? Paddle in the rain and remain soaking wet? Putting on the same drenched clothing in the morning isn't a really good option, but neither is getting my dry clothes wet!

Setting up a tent under a tarp = lots of fun.

We'll cross that bridge tomorrow, and hopefully it won't be a miserable one. Another day of rain could really take its toll. If it was flat water, we could just paddle out quickly, rain or not, but the rapids take a long time to scout and, if necessary, portage.

Let's hope for drier weather in the morning.

....

Day Six:

I am beginning to have “rapid fatigue”. At least I'm drier tonight.

Trying to dry gear on an overcast morning.

After falling asleep last night after reading only a few pages of my book, with Chet crooning in my ears next, the day got off to a grand start by being silent. It was a relief to wake up knowing it wasn't raining. When I awoke, Shane was reading. Falling asleep early left us up early. We hung out for a bit, wondering when Buck and Tim would show up. Eventually, recognizing that our stuff wouldn't dry where we were, we got up and broke camp. We carried stuff out to the rocks, spread it out as best we could, and waited.

Drying out by the morning fire after a wet night.

We would wait a while. Buck and Tim were buried further in the bush, and had no intention of coming out early. By the time they emerged, Shane had gotten a fire going, and we were well on our way to drying. We never got much further, however. The little bit of sun that had come out decided to disappear behind some clouds. The remainder of the morning would be cloudy, and into the afternoon. Thankfully, we got sunshine in the afternoon and evening. It means we go to bed tonight without being soaked. Being wet last night was truly awful. This morning everything was still soaking wet. It would have been demoralizing to have to do it again. Two guys ran the river earlier this year, and their youtube video suggests that it rained every day for days straight. I'm sure they got some reprieve, but it would be an awful way to spend the trip. Hopefully our good weather holds tomorrow, although the skies tonight look nasty to the north.

Portaging.

Given the amount of portaging, we were constantly repacking the boats. We got quite efficient at it. Here we are packing the boats at the beginning of day six.

Today we ran the heaviest rapid section of the river. Literally rapid after rapid. At one point we could look up river and see three big sets behind us. And not just little rapids. Massive. Biggest water I've ever been on. Two experiences stand out.

Shane across the water, ready to line gear.

The first was a touch frightening. We came to a point in the river where it widened quite a bit, but there were no clean lines. It was evident that small shelves and falls were the only way down. We eddy hopped up to where we thought it would be reasonable to cross. After some lining and lifting, the plan was to ferry across a short but rapid stretch of water (ferrying is paddling upstream into a flow of water and sort of surfing across). The catch: if you dumped, or didn't make it, you'd go backwards or floating down a pretty gnarly ledge and then down yet another into a giant mess of water. We decided to be safe we should line the boat. Buck and Shane went first. Our lines were probably a necessary safety feature, but it didn't help the guys at all. At one point it looked like they were going to go in, in part from struggling to keep their balance, which was compromised by us holding ropes. The sign of relief from Shane afterwards said it all. I didn't think I'd have it in me to do it [note: this is putting it mildly. I emphatically informed Tim, I wouldn’t do it, and would use the Spot if that meant I was stuck where I was!] Tim also wasn't sure it was really safe either. We decided to throw a rope to Shane, and sent the gear across in a canoe, using lines from both sides. When we almost lost the barrels, I think Tim had come to the same conclusion as me: going across was a crazy idea, and we needed a better plan. We ended up going back upstream, finding another location, and portaging the boat down. Despite a fall on the rocks, where the butt of the knife on my belt jabbed into me, it was a far safer experience.

Lining gear.

Shane's view, prior to lining the barrels across.

Fishing at the bottom of the rapid.

The second rapid that will stand out was the last one ran today. Today was another short day, in large part due to the necessary late departure to dry out gear. We only made about 6 or 7 km today. We have 13 kms of rapid-filled water left - about 15 or so marked rapids. Depending on the water, some might be easy to run or line. Other could be like the giant portion we had to portage earlier today. We definitely did the most portaging and lifting today. Perhaps this is why at the rapid in question, the decision made by the first boat of Shane and Buck to just run it. From the top, it looked just like a wave train. Tim and I watched them bob and disappear and bob back up again, and then exit. We decided to run it as well. Turns out it had the biggest wave train I've ever ridden on any rapid. In fact, at one point, as we dipped into the trough, I literally could not see over the wave in front of me. I only saw the nose of our boat and water. Thankfully, we still bobbed up sufficiently to not swamp. It was an intense, but ultimately fun, ride.

Campsite # 6 - shortly after riding the big wave train.

A delicious - albeit highly processed - meal.

I'm missing the girls quite a bit right now. I'd love to call, check in, see how they are doing. I wish I could tell them how much I love them - thankfully, I know they already know. I hope they've been good for Leia, that none of them are sick, and that they are having fun. I'm sure they are. It is best to not think too much about them, as I end up being quite sad. This trip is starting to feel long - despite the great dinner of instant potatoes, stove top stuffing, gravy, onions, and pickerel (Buck caught). Highly processed foods taste phenomenal when one is hungry in the bush.

If all goes well tomorrow, and the rapids aren't too challenging, we'll get to the end of the rapid stretch. Apparently the campsite at the last rapid is a great one. It is unlikely, however, so I prepare myself for a 8-10 km day that sees us have one more day of rapids, albeit a short one.  Then we have 60 kms or so to paddle to the lodge where we'll get our boat ride back to Moosonee. There is potential for hiccups there - as they need to show up on time and weather needs to cooperate. I won't feel relief until we are in Moosonee, or at least on the boats back to town. It could be as early as Saturday, but more likely Sunday or Monday. Best to keep a positive attitude. It's been an adventure, that's for sure.

In fact, it is amazing how normalized this life becomes after a while – doing the same little tasks, over and over and over  … and over.

The Kattawagami River - July 2014 - Part I: Days 1-3

Note: I took an iPad on this trip to write my blog, so these entries, aside from minor editorial changes, were written at the end of each day’s paddle. Any comments added after for explanation are italicized. 

Day One:

You cannot hear any traffic here.  No car alarms, no sirens, no jake brakes from the local highway. Or trains. Often you can hear something at a campground. Not here. There is nothing man made for miles. Instead, I hear the chirp of birds, the wind in the trees, and the incessant buzzing of mosquitoes. At one point I looked down and saw hundreds around me.  To avoid them one must wear lots of deet and layers. This is super annoying with the heat, as it is currently quite warm.

Lots of people asked how the bugs were ….. they were like this!

Shane and Tim are starting a fire for dinner. I've retreated from the bugs to my tent, where stripped of layers, I hope to cool down. I'm blogging immediately, as I think it might be helpful to deal with the stress and anxiousness I know I'll feel on this trip.

Yes, trip of a lifetime ... So I must start enjoying that fact, and get away from the negative headspace of regret and fear. I have no doubt that the girls are fine. They are resilient, have their incredibly strong mother and are surrounded by good friends and family.

It is I, surrounded by the buzz, that needs strength.

I know these blog posts will likely read like a therapy session, and some of you will not find that enjoyable. It is how I am viewing them. I can write down how I feel, not that I haven't been sharing with the guys. I'm not afraid about talking through my problems. It is one of my most annoying habits, probably, but Leia has always been willing to talk things through with me. It is incredibly valuable to me that she is willing to be my sounding board.

Driving to Cochrane.

And right now, it is important that I listen to what she has said: get through one day at a time. I'm away for ten days, but I only have to deal with one day at a time. Today is almost over. I need only journey out into the bugs to eat a steak (first few dinners are really quite good, but they go downhill quickly) and then try to sleep.

Dinner # 1 - steak!

Starting the journey in Kattawagami Lake.

The journey started at 5:44 am yesterday morning (Thursday, July 17). Although i had friends over, and was up late, I couldn't sleep in any more. Jordan had made her way into the bed to cuddle up to me in the night, anxious about my departure. I got up and started to get ready. It was an anxious morning for me. Already Leia had had several chats with me about the trip. I seriously considered bailing a whole bunch. I knew it would be a great trip, but I also was worried about my mental health. I also don't like being away, but especially when communication is limited to a Spot device that sends out a preset email. As the day progressed, I felt better and better about leaving. Soon enough, we were on the road.

We stayed in Cochrane at Buck's sister-in-law's place. She was moving back up to Moosonee the next morning, just before our departure. It meant getting up again at 5:45 as things had to be done. It is probably a good thing, as it is now 8:44pm and going to sleep (or to bed at least) is an imminent proposition. Early nights, early mornings, is how this trip will likely unfold.

Some of the rapids were … tame.

As I type, anxiously watching the battery power icon of these iPad, I'm nibbling on trail mix. Tim kindly brought it over to me, reminding me that it is important to not neglect things like blood sugar. As he walks away, he says to me, "Don't forget to talk about the good parts." (note: the trail mix, which we took to calling the Happy Bag, was an important part of this trip - it made regular appearances, and was often greeted with joy!)

First fish - a little pike.

A good part is friends that are not judgmental or impatient. I walked a rapid today already - and we haven't even hit the big water yet. I just was having a rough time controlling the boat, and I am not a super strong white water paddler anyhow. Shane and I did pretty good overall, I think, but we hit a bunch of rocks, and a few times had to rock ourselves off of them (note: when you are stuck against a rock in whitewater, you lean into the rock to prevent the canoe from taking on water and to encourage the canoe to slide off the rock – it often, though not always, works). It has shaken my confidence. Walking the rapid was arguably more dangerous, as it required some hardcore bush whacking. I once lost my foot into a two or three foot deep swampy hole!

Campsite # 1

So far, there have been more rapid than I anticipated. Water levels are, as far as we can tell, on the high side of low. It will require careful scouting and paddling. It might also mean that I will be crashing more bush. I've already decided to not push it with rapids, as a few of the ones that caused Shane and I grief early left my head spinning.

It is hard to know how far we got today. There are no good maps to rely on - at least not that we have found. We'll know more once we hit the upcoming lake. Hopefully it, and its potentially better campsites, will be more than an hour ahead, as our campsite tonight, while good for the conditions we find ourselves in, leaves much to be desired.

Hanging out by the fire, while dinner is being cooked.

..............

Day Two:

Tim told me that the campsite last night was actually pretty decent. Turns out he was right. Admittedly, tonight's site is pretty decent, but it too leaves plenty to be desired. One great thing - for whatever reason the bugs are not as bad.

Upon review, they were bad - see Tim's legs above for proof!

Today was mostly flat water, a few minor rapids and some swifts.  This was a good thing. I am feeling better today. I'm also riding shotgun with Tim, which helps. I think Shane and I did well together, but I don't quite have the knowledge, and certainly not the confidence at this point, to man the ship.

Lounging on the river!

One of the burn areas we passed on day two.

Lining a rapid.

The stress of yesterday must have gotten to me some. Although I fell asleep last night without a problem, probably sometime shortly after ten, I woke up around 12:44 and I couldn't fall back asleep. I listened to the beaver slapping the water - and hoped that it was indeed a beaver - and to the hum of the mosquitoes. I might have drifted off, but I don't think so. Close to two I finally took a half of one the sleeping pills I have left over from Uganda. Recognizing the possibility of being stranded at the rivers end while we await a pick up, I am reluctant to use my newly acquired pharmacological aids. I really hope I can sleep tonight. I also hope the site tomorrow might be more in the shield. A cleansing dip at some point is in order (note: other than getting wet in rapids, no such cleaning ever happened!).

We came to a fork in the river and went right …..
we should have gone left. We spent about an hour and a half paddling the
wrong lake. If it hadn't been windy, we would have fished more. Has to be some big pike in this lake!

Paddling Bayley Lake - the reeds were everywhere, and it was quite beautiful.

We have certainly made 68-70 kms so far, maybe a touch more. Today we cruised through Bayley Lake, and the rivers exit point marked 60 km. Although the lake offered a nice, but small, beach area to camp, with a great breeze, we pressed on, forcing the bug infested cramped quarters we currently inhabit.

Chatting at the beach in front of a remote fly-in cabin that
 belongsto one of Buck's friends - we inspected the cabin
 for him, and used the beach to deliberate.
We pushed on, rather than setting up camp early. 

Tonight's meal was fantastic. Rice, veggies, and maple smokies. For dessert, some freshly caught walleye (caught by Buck!). I've only caught pike so far (seven, but who's counting?), which Buck calls snot rockets. Fishing for specs in next day or two should be lots of fun (note: we never saw even a glimpse of a trout, much to our dismay!). Sadly, number seven pike broke the tip of my rod. Better put: it broke while I was reeling in number seven. Luckily, I have a spare rod for Tim, which I will now claim.

Making dinner #2.

The biggest issue of the trip so far also happened. I noticed this morning that my chest was red. I assumed it was a burn. This annoyed me, as I'm trying to apply sunscreen regularly. In the afternoon I discovered the real culprit. I have been wearing a guardian angel around my neck. Jordan bought it for me when I went to Uganda. It turns out, the gem is missing. I hoped to find it in the tent tonight, but so far haven't. I guess I slept on the posts without the gem, so they dug into my chest all night. I'm a giant sentimental fool, so the loss is unfortunate. I'll wear the angel without the gem during the day. I'm sure Jordan won't care.

Bacon and eggs for first two breakfasts. Mmmmm, campfire bacon!

Bunch more days to go. Time to try to sleep; if needed, help sits close at hand. Now to listen to the incessant buzz.

..............

Day Three:

Discussing a possible line.

I find evenings to be quite warm. The days have been hot, so that's certainly part of it. A bigger part: the sweater and pants and bug net that I have to wear constantly. Right now I'm also sitting close to the fire, as the pickerel Shane and I caught today are fried up for dinner. We both caught two nice pickerel in a short time as Buck and Tim lined the boats down a gnarly shelf.

Shane and I with dinner - the best fish we caught the entire trip!

The outcome!

Today as we sat and had lunch on a rock island, I tried to catch a quick nap. Still couldn't sleep last night. I didn't try to fight it as long, but still waited for a while before relenting and taking a sleeping pill. I guess my lack of speaking - a rare thing indeed - perhaps coupled with my not fishing, left an impression. Eventually Buck asked me how I was doing. More specifically, he asked, "Do you actually regret coming on this trip?"

Me resting during the lunch hour break, just prior to Buck's inquiry into my state of mind!

How we got water at campsite # 3 - we always used the
7l Katadyn filter. Here, Shane and Tim had to be innovative
to hang it.

So far I've been very vocal about my struggles this past year. This shouldn't be shocking for those that know me. I'm pretty open to chat about anything. I had some people thank me for sharing my struggles in Uganda. For me, that is the most natural thing to do. And, when you're paddling for hours, there is lots of time to chat. Right now we are sitting at about 100 km, a significant distance in three days. Tomorrow we will start to slow down as we are heading into the heavy rapids. This river is a beast. Apparently one of northern Ontario's toughest. As far as I can tell, there are roughly 45 marked rapids in the next 45 kms or so (note: only major rapids were marked, meaning there were far more than 45!). If it is an hour per rapid, that at is 45 hours just running short distances, never mind the 49 or so kms of water in between. Needless to say, the next few days will not see the same mileage achieved. It means a longer trip perhaps.

When we sat on that rock at lunch, we sat for an hour or so. That kind of downtime is so great on a trip .... usually. Today, it ate away at me. So when Buck asked me, I inquired whether he wanted the true answer. He did. My response: "Somewhat!"

Today I walked two big rapids - rapids that will likely be dwarfed by the ones coming. I eventually ran a mid sized one, and it truly was a confidence builder. I'm sure the two beautiful pickerel I caught moments before helped to build my confidence. For sure, paddling with Tim today helped to build my confidence. We did a few eddy curls, and ran lots of fun swifts and class Is.

Scouting.

Tim and I running a rapid.

Nevertheless, as I type this, listening to Chet baker on the iPod, I know that I've struggled to sleep the past two nights – even though the days have entailed serious physical exertion. I can't seem to help it. More and more memories of sleepless nights become instances where I now wonder about my mental health. Instead of simply chalking it up to challenges with trying to sleep on my back in a tent (I’m a stomach sleeper), an excuse I've used many a time for sleepless nights camping, I am beging to make more sense of my sleeplessness.

Reading the maps, readying myself for the next day!

Do I regret coming? Right now, no. We had a safe day. We just ate a great meal, finished with screech and a Pilsbury strudel made over the fire. We laughed a lot, and had good conversation. No regrets right now. Tomorrow, hopefully none, but earlier today, yes. I read an article tonight on app on my phone for anxiety, I wish it were not so, but this year I've been struggling with anxiety. Some of the symptoms the article mentions make sense to me. Thankfully, the guys with me are being great about it all. I still need to have a strong day tomorrow, in the face of many rapids!

Campfire strudel!

Our open, flat, breezy campsite.

The sweet, breezy, flat campsite we have tonight helps a great deal, so too might the pharmacological aide I might rely on.  For now, while I'd love to type out more on the iPad, I'm going just going to relax, and get lost with Chet Baker!

Campsite #3.