Killarney Canoe and Hiking Trip

Killarney
Canoe & Hiking Trip

Norman Hooper &
Wayne Morrison
September 12-19, 2005

By Norm Hooper

Part 7

We ate a full course breakfast before departing this mecca wonderland, leisurely paddling to P13R90 among the skating water bugs on a mirror-like lake. We both agreed that Ruth Roy Lake campsite had to be the best by far.


Morning view from campsite 73 on Ruth Roy Lake

The wind glided our canoe on Johnnie Lake as we debated our day’s strategy and return to George Lake campgrounds. Previous forecasts had predicted a storm for Monday; therefore, we had to decide whether to strike camp on George Lake or head for the campgrounds. It would be challenging either way, but quite manageable. An incoming kayaker at Johnnie Lake dam informed us that a late afternoon storm was brewing and would last throughout the night and the following day.

We wasted no time in leaving and paddled hard meandering through the wetland valley towards Carlyle Lake and P14R940 (207 to 189), trying desperately to make up for lost time due to our late morning departure. Two chatting teenagers carrying canoe paddles passed us on the portage trail, oblivious to our greeting. No adults were in sight and both girls wore heavy scented perfume – this concerned us. At the dam, the kayaker had told us that he had seen a 400 pound black bear along the dirt road, and bears have a 40 times keener scent for smell than humans. Some distance later, we came upon two men carrying canoes and two younger teens with heavy backpacks. Trailing far behind this group was a third man carrying a canoe and wearily picking up fallen items from the others.

We left our heavy backpacks at the top of the steep decline to Kakakise Lake, returning to Carlyle Lake to retrieve the rest of the gear and canoe. There, the group of men and teens were about to embark - we had no time to waste and immediately made our exit. Pumped with adrenalin and determination, the second segment of the portage seemed effortless compared to trekking it in the rain on the third day into our trip. During the steep decline, extra precaution was taken not to stumble on the jutting rocks and snake-like roots to the shoreline embankment.

It was noon and a southwesterly headwind increased in strength, creating choppy waves on Kakakise Lake. Our paddles rhythmically dipped deep and hard into the water as we maneuvered the canoe out of errant side-waves until finally hugging the lee of the forested shoreline. Had we stayed at campsite 9, we would have been open to the elements. A well-kept cabin on the easterly end of an elongated island appeared to be occupied; however, this was no time for a social call. Campsite 7, not overly spectacular, was tucked behind a bend on a slanting slab of rock terrain and without scenery. We edged slowly among the shallows, easily skittering several ducks, their deep wing beats dimpling the water’s surface as they took flight.

Slipping past the island and nearing the end of the lake, we beached our canoe in a crevice on an outcrop to rest and further our strategy. The inverted V-shaped entry into Kakakise Creek was surrounded by marsh and wetlands as we approached the intersection of P15L1975 (189 to 192) and the hiking trail. Several fallen logs, loosely laid across Kakakise Creek, acted as an unsteady walkway – a hiking staff was a must to traverse it. We met two seasoned hikers of German descent, with camera equipment stowed in their backpack and a goal of hiking to Silver Peak by day’s end. For safety purposes, we pointed out, with the aid of our map, the extreme distance involved in attaining their quest – they quickly realized their miscalculation and altered their route to Proulx Lake instead.

The perceptible rise and levelness of this portage was supported by the limited contour lines on the map. A well-trodden rock and rooted trail next to Kakakise Creek took us to higher ground where a mixed forest gave way to hardwood bush. Its undergrowth had all but vanished, leaving the forest floor open-spaced beneath the treetop canopy. The entire portage was traipsed in twenty-five minutes. A swamp with a passage of shallow, murky water and broken reeds would be our next obstacle – just wide enough to fit our canoe. On our return walk through the woods, a couple with their dog rested on a rock ledge at Sealey’s Lake. This would have been impossible to do during the summer months with the hordes of mosquitoes swarming them from the nearby bog. The sharp shrill of a blue jay underlined the stillness. Dark clouds and the feel of rain in the air warned us that wasted time sightseeing would result in being caught in a downpour. The coolness of the woods against our shirtless bodies was welcomed and halfway through the trail, the sight of day-old bear scat brought us quickly back to reality.

Just as we arrived at our canoe site, the owner of the cabin on Kakakise Lake approached pushing a wheel barrel. This was his only means of transporting supplies from the parking lot to his cabin over a mile in distance. He seemed very hospitable. He openly traded canoeing stories and the circumstances that led to his obtaining the island and cabin in 1975 for $4700. Had we stopped earlier at the cabin, the "welcome mat" would have been openly displayed with a home cooked meal, much beverage and a roof over our heads for the night. Not a bad invite, but a deterrent to reaching our destination by day’s end.

Like the first trip into the portage, we didn’t stop and were about done-in by the time we arrived at the swamp. The last of the drinking water was consumed; however, the beaver dam portage to George Lake was a short paddle and we knew our supply would soon be replenished. The westerly wind increased in velocity and the dark, rolling clouds kept pressing towards us from the direction of Georgian Bay. With the canoe loaded, we used the "one foot in the canoe and one foot out" pushing technique to escape the swamp grass and enter the stream. We meandered through the thick lily pads and attempted to follow the overgrown channel made by previous canoeists. It would have been a challenge to locate this portage if we had tripped in the opposite direction.


Freeland Lake	Portage over the beaver dam

On Freeland Lake, we paddled behind two canoes under strong winds and choppy waves until P16R80 (188 to 189). The carry-over to the wharf was effortless. Rather than continue to the park campgrounds, we decided to stay the night at campsite 6, situated on a spiny, rock peninsula and topped by a scatter of magnificent white pines. Filtered water quickly replenished our thirst and sufficient wood was already at hand for the evening campfire, provided the wind receded. The food bag, enclosed in a plastic garbage bag against anticipated inclement weather, was hoisted up a nearby tree limb after a well-deserved two-course supper. Fortunately, the wind relented, and the anticipated storm drifted north and away from George Lake.


La Cloche Mountains on George Lake	Campsite 6 on George Lake

There is definitely something about the smell of newly lit smoke and the caste of red, dull embers and the myriads of sparks, ascending into the night air from a crackling campfire. It was our final night and an opportunity to rehash the eventful trip over the past week. We still weren’t sure what the night and early morning weather held for us, so as a precaution, we encased our equipment in plastic bags. Two gunshot blasts, a minute apart from one another, resounded from the direction of Wagon Road Lake, just as we retreated into our tent for the night. We assumed that park officials were busy dealing with a rogue bear. Sleep came fast and heavy throughout the night.

Killarney Canoe & Hiking Trip

By Norm Hooper

Part 7

Killarney
Canoe & Hiking Trip