EGL Fall Hang 2017 - "Algonquin's Dividing to Parkside Jaunt"

**Chard** · 10-02-2017, 10:54

Dividing Lake Provincial Park

"This nature reserve protects spectacular old growth pine and hardwood forests. The steep ridges and rocky shorelines of Dividing Lake border Algonquin Provincial Park to the east." Ontario Parks

"Centuries-old, giant White Pine are scattered through mature hardwoods a rare remnant of the forests which once dominated southern Ontario." Algonquin Park Map

At least that's what they'd have you believe.

From my earliest days as a teenager tracing the pink lines of canoe routes across the tattered remnants of the paper map of Algonquin, there have always been a few "must see" destinations that have caught my eye; the village of Brent, the mighty Opeongo, the Barron Canyon, Lake Lavielle and tucked up against the Southwestern borders of Algonquin Park, a small patch of green surrounding the old growth forests of Dividing Lake. Over the years I've managed to visit most of the other places, but located, as it is, at the end of a 2.5 km low maintenance cul-de-sac, Dividing Lake remained stubbornly out of reach. That changed this autumn.

(More to come)

Google Photo Drive Public View Access/Collaborate Access Upon Request

**Bubba** · 10-03-2017, 05:52

Great trip! Biggest attendence ever at one of these weekend gatherings. Wet and cold paddle in on Friday but beautiful Saturday and Sunday. Had an absolutely sublime moment when I went for my first moonlight paddle. Unfortunately the leaves hadn't turned as much as we'd hoped but of course it was still beautiful scenery. Great to see old friends and make new ones as always!

**Niagara** · 10-03-2017, 18:37

Looks like a great time. Great pics so far!!
Niagara

**Jayson** · 10-03-2017, 21:33

Really glad we decided to come out. Had a great time. Will see what Tracey has for pictures and see about adding a few.

**Chard** · 10-04-2017, 11:33

Dividing Lake Provincial Park

"This nature reserve protects spectacular old growth pine and hardwood forests. The steep ridges and rocky shorelines of Dividing Lake border Algonquin Provincial Park to the east." Ontario Parks

"Centuries-old, giant White Pine are scattered through mature hardwoods a rare remnant of the forests which once dominated southern Ontario." Algonquin Park Map

At least that's what they'd have you believe.

From my earliest days as a teenager tracing the pink lines of canoe routes across the tattered remnants of the paper map of Algonquin, there have always been a few "must see" destinations that have caught my eye; the village of Brent, the mighty Opeongo, the Barron Canyon, Lake Lavielle and tucked up against the Southwestern borders of Algonquin Park, a small patch of green surrounding the old growth forests of Dividing Lake. Over the years I've managed to visit most of the other places, but located, as it is, at the end of a 2.5 km low maintenance cul-de-sac, Dividing Lake remained stubbornly out of reach. That changed this autumn.

Day 1 (Smoke to Dividing)

The plan for this hang would be akin to the Spring's hang, a traditional canoe trip followed by a weekend shindig at some pre-agreed upon rendezvous. This time around, five of us planned to travel down Smoke to Dividing Lake to explore the remnants of old growth forest, before heading east to Louisa and finally looping back roughly northwest through Bonnechere and Big Porcupine to Ragged and finally Parkside Bay. Ggreaves, Jiblets, Keewaykeno and Quiet would paddle in a short way on Sunday and camp on Ragged Lake where I'd meet up with them the following morning.

I pulled up to the Canoe Lake Park office at a little past 7am Monday morning, hoping that they'd be open earlier than their posted 8am so I could get an early start to the day, but dark windows and locked doors proved otherwise. After packing away the last of my gear I sat on the porch bench and watched the little bay wake up. The stillness was broken as a lonely canoe pulled up to the Portage Store docks and a pair of tired paddles began unloading their gear. They were soon joined by one of the staff and within a few short minutes they had retrieved their car, loaded their gear into their car and driven away. Back on the docks the staffer busied himself around the canoe until, with a easy style honed over the past season, flipped the canoe up onto his shoulders and returned it to its place amongst the racks of leaf covered canoes. October marks the end of the canoeing season at the Portage Store and I'm sure preparations were already underway to get it ready for the long winter ahead. They'd open their doors early next spring, and hopefully I'd be here again waiting for them.

Behind me the lights finally came on and a sleepy Park Officer, a young lady by the name of Katie, unlocked the doors with a smile. By eight thirty I had my permit and was crossing south over Hwy 60 to the Smoke Lake parking lot. There was some coming and going of the motorboats that serviced the many cottages on the large lake. Down by the boat ramp a pair of contractors were trying to do repairs on their old outboard engine. When they asked, half jokingly, if I had a pair of needle-nosed pliers, I surprised them by reaching down to my belt and whipped out my Leatherman. At last I had come full circle! (Inside joke - re: MF'er Bay).

By nine I was able to push off from the Smoke Lake docks under blue skies and a light north breeze. I leaned into my kayak paddles and cruised between green and brown hills to the southern end of the lake where a quick single carry of my canoe and pack brought me into Ragged Lake.

The fall colours were barely noticeable with only an occasionally splash of red or gold, nothing like the riot of colour we were graced with a few years back on our Pen Lake hang. Although crisp nights in late August and early September had set the stage for a some wonderful colour in the Park, two weeks of unseasonably warm temperatures in the latter part of September seemed to shut down the colour changes of the Maples and we were left with a dull orange-brown canopy. No matter; enjoy each season on its own terms and enjoy the many moods of Algonquin.

Back on the water again, my immediate concern was finding my companions. I had left an email with Ggreaves that'd I'd work my way around the west side of the lake's main island, checking as many campsites as I could before proceeding onto the portage. If they had already gone over to the next lake, I asked that they leave a sign of some kind for me to follow, otherwise I'd wait there for them to show up. I hadn't gone more than a stone’s throw into the main lake when I heard Jiblets call from a campsite on the northeastern shore. As I paddled up, Ggreaves, Jiblets, Keewaykeno and Quiet were just finishing packing up and within a few minutes we were heading across to the main island to cache their supplies that wouldn’t be need until the upcoming weekend.

Our little fleet of five solo canoes, Ggreaves rented 15' Swift packboat, Jiblets' brand new carbon fusion Swift Kipewa, Quiet's Souris River and Keewaykeno's and my own prospectors quickly reached the muddy landing of the "Devil's Staircase", the painfully long, steep portage between Ragged and Porcupine that southbound travelers like ourselves had to contend with.

Although I had all but pranced over the first portage, the "Devil's Staircase" set the tone of the rest of the day. Only Jiblets, with his light pack and wonderfully light canoe, was able to single carry. The rest of us would be double-carrying; taking our gear in two trips: one for the canoe and another for our packs. It meant that we had to walk the length of the portage three times, turning, in this case, a 600m portage into an 1800m. By the time I had reached the top of the hill with my first load, my thighs were burning with exhaustion. I was "gassed". Eventually I crossed over the top and returned for my canoe, but that hill was brutal.

It's my own fault of course. Although there was precious little I could do about the weight of my canoe, except for perhaps replacing it with a lighter model, my real burden was my big old 115L Ostrum Wabikimi backpack. Because I was hoping to do some photography, including some astrophotography, I had packed my dslr and a medium sized tripod. Add to that a food bag that contained a "generous" amount of food and I had the makings of a real burden. I have a twenty year old's packing style and a senior citizen's carrying capacity. Not a good mix.

Back at Big Porcupine Lake we faced the choice of either taking the direct route over a 400m portage or paddling around the large peninsula that separates the north, west and south arms of the lake. Sweaty after the "Staircase", it didn't take long to decide to stay in the canoes. Besides, it would give us a chance to grab a bite of lunch on a sandbar Quiet had suggested.

After lunch and a few more kilometers of paddling we were pulling into the twisting, inflowing creek and the 370m portage to Little Coon Lake. Another sweaty double-carry and we were pushing off into Little Coon south towards the dreaded 2500m unmaintained portage to Dividing. By this time most of us were making our own way towards Dividing. Jiblets, Keewaykeno and Quiet were already on the water, making the short crossing to the start of the next portage. As I was getting ready to follow, Ggreaves came up and said that he needed a few moments. Since we likely wouldn't be too far ahead on the Little Coon/Dividing portage I didn't give it second thought.

Portages in Algonquin fall into one of two categories; regular and low maintenance. Fallen trees and broken boardwalks generally receive quick attention on most of trails in the Park however the "low-maintenance" portages may go a season or more before the crews get a chance to clear them. We were lucky, there were only two sections, at the start of the portage, where trees had fallen across the trail and while the first was easily bypassed, the second was flanked by thick bushes and required pushing the canoe through the branches. Nonetheless, the portage to Dividing, while not technically difficult, was pretty dang tough. The trail rose steadily for two thirds of its length, passed a large erratic on the highpoint of the trail and then descended steadily down to Dividing. A little less than halfway on the descent the trail forks off to the east and the What Not Lakes.

I normally take my pack across first on my double-carries, giving me a chance to look around and take in the trail before returning for my canoe. A combination of the oppressive heat and already tired legs was too much to bear. I followed Keewaykeno out onto the shoreline of Dividing, a small nondescript lake surrounded by coniferous hills. After a rest and a long drink of water I turned back to go get my canoe.

On the way I met Quiet and he broke the bad news to me; Ggreaves had decided to not continue with our planned route and in fact, he had already turned back and was heading back across the previous portage to Big Porcupine, where he would spend the night before heading back to Smoke Lake and Huntsville. There he planned to meet his friend Steve and paddle in together Friday morning. Understandably we were all quite concerned and would have readily altered our plans to keep the group together, something I think Ggreaves was loathe have us do on his account. We rationalized that Ggreaves was an experienced canoe tripper and would be fine, it was the pace we were setting that he was prepared to deal with. Although ultimately he made the right choice, I just would have preferred for him to not turn back alone.

All of this was on my mind as I eventually struggled to the top of the hill with my canoe, utterly exhausted. After what must have been my twentieth rest break, I shouldered my canoe again and started my way down towards the fork in the trail. Since we returning this way in the morning, I planned to leave my canoe by the trail and collect it in the morning. Just as my strength was giving out Jiblets turned up and offered to helped to carry my canoe the last few hundred metres. Good old Jiblets!

Back on Dividing with three canoes, we made our way over to the small campsite on the south shore. To be honest, the rough campsite we found was a bit of a disappointment, with a small little fire pit and barely a place to put a couple of tents or hammocks. Perhaps our expectations were too high. We had hoped to camp amongst the giant pines the lake was renowned for, but frankly the surrounding forest didn't seem any different than elsewhere in the park. Frankly, we arrived too late and were was too tired to explore very far. It's a shame because after all of that work getting to the lake, we only managed to spend a couple of daylight hours on site. I hope that there's a repeat trip in the future, albeit with a lighter canoe.

After dinner in the dark we turned in and prepared for a hot sweaty night.

**Niagara** · 10-05-2017, 15:20

good read so far Chard! Summer did show up late for a lot of us.. i bet it was tough catching z's. I hope bugs were not too bad either.
Niagara

**Chard** · 10-12-2017, 09:45

Part 2 (Dividing to Ragged)

Tuesday morning dawned bright and clear and almost immediately the four of us quietly went about the business of the morning, breakfast and breaking camp. By nine we were back on the water and approaching the portage to the Whatnot Lakes with some trepidation; at least I was. Keewaykeno shouldered his canoe and started down the trail and I followed a minute or so later. After a slow uphill 750m climb, the bright red of my prospector peeked out ahead in the forest, lying just as we had left it the afternoon before. Turning to the right I started down a barely discernible forest trail. Keewaykeno was nowhere in sight so, a little concerned that he may have missed the signs for the turn because of the canoe on his head, I shouted his name a couple of times and a moment later I heard a return shout somewhere down to the right.

The 1600m portage to Whatnot Lake is still a bit of a blur. My thighs still felt wobbly after the prior day's portages and I had to drop my pack a few times to rest. The first third of the side trail gradually rose until it came to a very steep section I lovingly refer to as "The Wall". It took a couple of rest breaks but I managed to finally get up and over that hill, owing in a large part to a rough walking stick that I had picked up back on Ragged. The second half of the portage was a bit easier and eventually after dropping my pack at the shore of Whatnot Lake, little more than a pond actually, I turned to get my canoe. Along the way, of course, I'd meet the rest of the crew passing back and forth. It was a struggle and by the time I reached the top of "The Wall" I was spent. At every break, I'd drop the canoe and have a sip or two of water while waiting for pounding in my chest to return to normal. Lift, walk, stagger, sweat, drop, drink, recover, repeat.

A little past the wall, while on yet another break Keewaykeno came up. Seeing that I was all but dead he graciously offered to help me carry my canoe, and after refusing my offers to take a turn, carried the canoe quite a ways to the end of the portage. It was tough; only a couple of years ago I could've singled carried over most of the route but this time around I just couldn't seem to find any strength in my legs. Between Keewaykeno and Jiblets, it just goes to show you the quality of the people I've been lucky enough to trip with over the years. Gentlemen, thank you.

We could see the start of the next portage just across Whatnot Lake, and after a comparatively uneventful 430m the four of us stood on the shore of McGarvey Lake. By now it was early afternoon and we weighed our options. We wanted to be back near the Smoke/Ragged portage the next evening; both to meet up with LuvmyBonnet and to do a resupply run to Huntsville. That left us with three options; retrace our steps back to Whatnot Lake and do the Double Devil's Staircase (the very sound of which scared the bejesus out of each of us) to Little Coon, push on through Grace and another three portages to Louisa, which although technically possible would mean another late arrival. The third option made the most sense; find a campsite on McGarvey, spend the rest of the afternoon enjoying the afternoon and then do the roughly two kilometers of portages from McGarvey to Bonnechere then the two easy hops back to Ragged. It was decided, we'd camp on McGarvey.

With that big decision made, the paddle across McGarvey was very pleasant. Keewaykeno and Jiblets had pushed off ahead to find a site and Quiet and I followed shortly afterwards. We settled on the island campsite and it turned out to be quite a jem with a wide open common area by the fire pit and a little beach. Hammocks were hung, firewood collected and pretty soon it was time to relax, eat, swim and even do a little laundry. A wonderful way to pass a beautiful day.

The next morning we pushed up to the northeastern end of McGarvey and tackled the two portages that would take us about two kilometers over to Bonnechere. Yesterday's rest day had done the trick and I managed both fairly easy portages without mishap. The second portage was a little more of a challenge as it twisted along the rocky shoreline of the intervening pond, but even that, and the gentle hills that followed were nothing compared to Monday's odyssey. The good news is that along the way we passed a couple that had come across Ggreaves, apparently no worse for wear.

We paddled west across Bonnechere in a light drizzle, portaged into Big Porcupine and finally retraced our steps over the "Devil's Staircase", this time downhill all the way! "Devil's Staircase"? More like the "Angel's Escalator". Back on Ragged again, Jiblets and I pushed off to catch up with Keewaykeno and Quiet. Some serious midday northerly headwinds had whipped up and paddling was a challenge. Hugging the western shore, Jiblets and I prepared to strike out across the lake for the island when we saw Keewaykeno windbound on the eastern shore, below Archer Bay. After pushing my pack forward to adjust my trim I powered across to the island where Quiet and Jiblets pulled in to retrieve the Keewaykeno's food barrel cache. The three of us eventually paddled to the campsite where they had camped on the way in. The only problem was that there was no sign of Keewaykeno.

Sure that he was only a little ways behind, the three of us began to set up camp, ever with an eye to the water. A paddler was seen crossing the bay but had passed out of sight behind the island. As half an hour stretched on to an hour Jiblets decided to go out looking. We knew that Keewaykeno's canoe was stern heavy and that in these high winds it would be difficult to manage, so with that in mind, Jiblets emptied his small food barrel and paddled south in search of our wayward crew member. At the north east end of the island he signaled that Keewaykeno wasn't in sight and so he turned east to where he was last seen. As Quiet and I alternated between camp chores and keeping watch we weighed the possibilities. Basically there was a very strong likelihood that Keewaykeno was simply windbound and that he was waiting for the wind to die down before continuing on. But as likely as that was, we couldn't help considering the worst, that he had somehow capsized during the crossing and was in the water or washed up on shore somewhere. Luckily, before we were able to get too antsy and consider joining the search, Jiblets and Keewaykeno paddled around the corner into view.

Sure enough, despite his best efforts, Keewaykeno had been windbound just south of Archer Bay. Not having enough forward ballast to trim his canoe, he was being constantly turned like a weathervane by the powerful northwesterlies and blown ashore. He made the sensible decision of waiting for the gale to subside and apparently his only hardship was getting drinkable water because the turbulent shoreline made the water too murky to filter. When Jiblets showed up, they filled his empty food barrel with water and placed it in Keewaykeno's bow. With his trim set, he was able to point into the wind and make his way to camp.

With the excitement behind us, I shot a number of time lapses on my Galaxy S7 Edge using the Time Spirit app, took a few pictures and settled in for a quiet evening. The next day, Thursday, would be a little hectic. LuvmyBonnet would be joining us would need some assistance getting his kayak across the portage. Luckily Keewaykeno had that covered. As for myself, I'd be paddling back to the Smoke Lake access point, driving out to Huntsville for supplies only to turn around and somehow manage to find my way to our weekend camping site on Parkside Bay. Easy peasy.