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.