Lost portages of Irvine Lake
A solo canoe trip into
Woodland Caribou
Provincial Park

by
Martin Kehoe
Part 6
Larus Creek - Twin Lakes
GPS Waypoints Listings at the bottom of the part 8
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Moose on Larus Creek - Woodland Caribou ParkAn early start this morning as a leisurely float down Larus Creek is anticipated. Two Bald Eagles are perched by the waterfall portage looking for fish stunned in the turbulent waters. After the short portage, the canoe is set up for an effortless paddle down Larus Creek. The camera and binoculars are out and a conventional paddle is used to cut down on the flashy movement of the kayak paddle. In the first kilometer some trees are steered around that will cause some problems at lower water levels. A small stream enters and from there on the channel is open and wide. Many birds are flitting about but not one is identified. A family of Canada Geese do a lot of evasive swimming until one gives the crippled act and the canoe gets by the others hiding in the grass. After a few hours of this free ride the stream enters a few shallow lakes. Two moose are feeding and one does not smell or see the canoe until it is close by. It is a large bull and is a real treat to enjoy in this backcountry place.

The small lakes were my destination for the day but it is not even lunchtime yet and all the swamp in the area is not providing any obvious campspots. There are a few higher places but they are not checked out. The lure of a big unknown section draws me to a stream mouth that comes from Twin Lakes two kilometers to the west. There is no desire to paddle out to huge Larus Lake and its motorboats. The big waters of Larus and the Bloodvein Rivers are well suited for them and not for canoes. That is why an exploration of this stream is so important to me. It would provide a link needed to travel west without seeing motor traffic. My notes from the park list some obstruction at the entrance and then a question mark. Lunch can wait as the channel is checked out. Reading the maps gives you no idea what you will find these streams to be. For 400 meters the Alder was pushed aside as the canoe nosed its way upstream. The creek was pretty straight but was getting really narrow. Progress had ground to a stop and it became necessary to get out in the waist deep channel and pull the canoe forward. Soon there was so much Alder that it had to be pushed down and the canoe pulled over it. Every canoe length of travel was becoming a milestone. When a down tree forced me to unload the canoe to get by there was enough of a hump there that a meal of Mac and Cheese was boiled up for lunch. After the rest a few hundred more meters of sliding the canoe over the brush was achieved. At this point the channel had divided so many times there was none to follow. There was some open sedge to my right and that provided an easier pull with the water levels so high. Soon the sedge turned to cattails and the channel reappeared. The scene reminded me of the movie "African Queen." The "African Queen" portage - Woodland Caribou ParkThe better going continued and the sound of rapids could be heard in the distance. A short haul on land and it was back into the creek again for the final pull out onto the lower of the Twin Lakes. The lower lake was big and open but did not impress me a place to camp. A look at the topo map in my GPS showed that the upper lake had a lot more to offer. A small stream connects the two and was open to the next lake. While paddling into the upper lake a floatplane altered its course and flew over me. The pilot knew that no one should be in the area and gave me a chance to signal for help. There was a canoe tied to one of the floats so maybe someday I will hear from the paddler. My interpretation of the topo map proved correct and I was soon pulling up on a large rock area to set up camp. First, the clothes were rinsed of all the swamp residue and hung to dry. A cup of coffee and some Dove pieces gave me the pep to set up the camp. It had been a three-hour drag over the brush from Larus Creek to get here and an Oreo Cookie pudding for dessert would be my reward tonight.

There was thunderstorm in the night and a dazzling sunrise this morning. The loons are fishing in my bay. Many an hour has been spent this trip reclining in camp and listening to their orchestra. There have been some special effects when the calls echoed back. A pair of eagles and a pair of Ospreys have kept me entertained with a never-ending air show. They have also been a noisy quartet but their shrill screeches are not as soothing as the call of the loons. There is a narrow piece of land between the lakes and these fishermen know to hunt the windward side. All they have to do is change sides when the wind shifts.

The creek from Larus Creek to Twin Lakes is totally impassable and is the first snag in finding all these lost portages. In a normal year, there would be no water at all to pull through. Bound and determined to find a route across from Larus Creek I studied the maps and picked out a route from upper Twin Lake that follows the 1181-foot contour line all the way to the lake. Watching the map on my GPS, it was possible to follow the route all the way to the creek. Once there the track was saved in the GPS and used to return to Twin Lakes. On the return trip the route was improved using what was learned on the way over. The terrain is such that it would be no problem to portage through here. The area burned in 1948 so the forest is healthy and not laden with down trees. The middle is on a lot of barren rock with level good footing. The open areas provide good breezes for the rest periods. It is a 2400-meter hike but an excellent way to get into a remote part of the park.

Twin Lakes - Woodland Caribou ParkA strong wind had the waves pounding into Twin Lakes when I returned. It was a fight to make any progress against the wind and waves. A gust would come and the canoe would be pushed backward. When the wind slowed for a few seconds it was tempting to relax but that was the time to really use the kayak paddle and make some headway. Once out of the bay where the wind was being funneled it got a lot smoother. After a fish fry, it was time to search for a route over to Moose Lake. Using the GPS, it was easy to see where to look first. The brush was parted and there was the old portage. It had not been used much since the 1948 fire and I had to swerve around the trees to get the canoe through. There were no saw marks or stumps but there were some young Balsam broken off about 2 meters in the air. Maybe a wintertime traveler opening his way a little.

On the map the next lake looked like one of those nuisances we need to get through to get to the good stuff. It only seems small on the map because of what it sits in the middle of. A number of great camp spots and plenty to marvel at while you are there. A creek connects this beauty to Moose Lake. A wide channel allowed me to go down the creek to a beaver dam. On the shore a blaze marked another old portage. I left the canoe and progressed over a rounded hill and down to Moose Lake. It was pleasing to see that this Moose Lake is not a body of water surrounded by swamp. Near the sandy end of the portage, a shed moose antler was hung in a tree to appropriately mark the portage start. In drier years there would be a great sand beach here.

Monday morning with no more lost portages to look for on this lake, it gave me time to go hiking. There is a high hill on the other side of the bay that has been luring me since my arrival. The topo maps show that it is possible to get there on foot by going around the wet area at the end of the bay. It takes me a half hour to get to the top and take in a great view of the upper Twin Lake. A young Spruce Grouse jumps into a tree and stares back at me. After a half hour, a ramble back to camp commences. The moss is imprinted with hoof prints so a silent stalk is made into the wind on a bigger loop back towards camp in search of Caribou. An hour of sneaking along and I can see a lake but not on the side of me that it should be. My sense of direction is terrible so it is assumed that I am turned around. My GPS shows me that is not the case. The lake is a small one west of my camp. A remote lake in a remote region means that a closer examination needs to be done. It has nothing spectacular except that no one ever stands on its shore. A twenty-inch thick Spruce tree there has withstood the ravages of many fires and other perils but is now dying from a fungus that hangs off its branches. Again, I am lured off course by some interesting rock areas. Indian Pipe and Bunchberry decorate the ground where I am wandering. Still another rock dome lures me further away until I am standing far above the forest below with no idea which way it is back to camp. The GPS is turned on and shows me that camp in 600 meters away at 85 degrees. This time I continue with a compass in my hand as a safe way is sought to get down from the lookout. A Spruce bog lay between me and my camp but some logs allow me to keep my feet dry. Picking my way along, the bones of a long dead Moose is spotted. Camp is only a few hundred meters away when the first sign of man is spotted on this lake. An open rock area has stumps that were cut with a chainsaw a long time ago. The cuts were made at such an angle that no one would have cut that much extra wood with a handsaw. Maybe it was a landing zone during a forest fire.

The winds calmed a little after a long lunch so the canoe went into the water for a trip to the lower of Twin Lakes. Pushing aside a few Alder, it was then easy to reenter the other lake. To be a twin is to have a shared identity. My twin sisters never had a name; it was just "Hey Twin." Here it is not North Twin or South Twin, only one of the twins. The other twin to the north holds no resemblance to the one I am now on. The other twin has great campspots and character. This twin is a large round body of water ringed with weeds.

Since no one ever comes here, there was no guilt about having more fish as a side dish. Northern are all that have been caught but while sitting in camp a fish came out of the water near me, touched down and flew further through the air. It happened so fast that its identity remains unknown to me.

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Part 7
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Copyright by Martin Kehoe, March, 2006    http://canoestories.com/kehoe/irvine1c.htm