EGL Fall hang 2015, Algonquin Provincial Park - Soups On!

[Bubba]

Last weekend was our annual fall canoe trip and it was another great one. My attendance was in doubt until the last minute but luckily I was able to go. Although the fall colours were still being mixed on Mother Nature's palate there was still other things to provide a back drop for our trip.



This one started out differently than trips of previous years where we would all meet at the put in and leave together sometimes as a mass flotilla. This year prompted by a visiting neighbour from south of the border, 76highboy and 1csleptonkayak took on a trip to Kilarney Provincial park with Lofty and Mark1065 at the start of the week joining this trip on Thursday. I came in on Friday and happened to meet keg on Rock lake as we were paddling towards the portage to Pen lake. We were the stragglers of the group since the rest of them had come in the day before. We didn't even know which site to go to but Chard's homemade HF flag let us know not to paddle much further.



Upon arrival to the site I was greeted by chard who was surprised but happy to see me. I went to the fire area to say hello to the rest of the group which included, The Old Boot, Entropy, 76highboy and our new American friend 1csleptonkayak. It was nice to see familiar faces and after a few greetings were exchanged keg and I went to set up. I had been to this site before and it's a nice site for hammocks with lots of spots from which to choose. Once I changed and finished setting up I went to have dinner around the fire. I was particularly excited about the signature EGL clam chowder that was simmering over the fire. The chowder was awesome as always. It's so nice to have a freshly made dinner versus rehydrating a freeze dried meal. The temperature was cooling down and hot chowder was just the thing to warm me up accompanied by some crusty bread brought by keg.



As the night went on we talked and hung out around the fire. It's one of my favourite things to do on trips. I think pretty much everyone on this forum can sit and stare at a camp fire for hours and those present were no exceptions. Many laughs and stories were shared including one particularly funny one 1csleptonkayak shared about an encounter with a Bigfoot hunter. Suffice it to say I'll never look at Sasquatch hunters the same again. Before turning in, some of us went to go check out the night sky. It was almost a full moon so star gazing was limited to a quick trip to the beach area to see what we could see. Despite the moon's illumination it was still awesome to stare at the sky and see the beautiful stillness of the lake in the moonlight.

The next morning I awoke to a lovely mist hovering over the lake as the sun shone on the trees above. Breakfast was made and enjoyed with a cool breeze rustling the leaves. After some conversations with my camp mates I went for a little solo paddle. Being a novice solo paddler I took advantage of a beautiful day. A little wind made for some good practice in getting a feel for my new boat, a Novacraft Prospector.



Chard, Entropy and 76highboy went for a little fishing trip down Pen lake while the rest of us hung around camp as the afternoon passed. keg and 1csleptonkayak even took an afternoon nap. Can't blame hammock hangers for wanting to nap after all. Shug would be proud of some of the lollygaging that was going on. I took the opportunity to go for another solo paddle to enjoy the last couple of hours of sun before dinner was to be made.



The second evening's meal was split pea soup. I got back to camp and started a fire as the fishing crew returned. 76highboy managed to catch some small brook trout. A group effort of wood gathering, food prep and cooking landed us with a nice pot of split pea soup with double smoked bacon. It was quite tasty and warmed us in the cool of the evening. A little later 76highboy fried up the fish for a before bed snack. Fresh from the lake fish is awesome. The rest of the night was spent chatting by the fire until our hammocks called to us yet again.

The next morning I left before everyone in part because I needed to get going but also in the event the rest of the group left soon after, we would arrive at our cars at around the same time. Fortunately the group arrived at the parking lot not long after I did which meant we could all have lunch together before heading home.



We stopped for lunch at the restaurant above the Portage store which is on Canoe lake, a popular starting point in Algonquin park and an increasingly busy stop for tour buses. The vantage point of the restaurant allowed us to watch completely inexperienced people embarking and disembarking their rental canoes. It can be a little humorous and I'm not ashamed to say I was hoping to see someone get wet. There was a group of four tourists we watched intently as they were trying to get into one canoe. It was a little dicey at first but they managed to get in without incident which drew the applause of our table.

After lunch we parted ways, another enjoyable trip in our memories. My thanks go to everyone for making this a great trip. Special recognition to 1csleptonkayak for making the 9+ hour drive north crossing the border to see two magnificent provincial parks in the same week and for being the brunt of many light hearted jokes from us crazy canucks. Hopefully some of the others will post some pics here and add their experiences.

Happy hanging to all! Looking forward to the next one! Winter here we come!

[LuvmyBonnet]

Thanks for the great report and pictures Bubba. I'm looking forward to the next Valen's trip. It should be a smorgasbord of Smoke House and hot tents!! I also just ordered a 0* Ghost pepper TQ from Loco Libre Gear. Can't wait to try that out.

[Bubba]

Thanks for the great report and pictures Bubba. I'm looking forward to the next Valen's trip. It should be a smorgasbord of Smoke House and hot tents!! I also just ordered a 0* Ghost pepper TQ from Loco Libre Gear. Can't wait to try that out.

Awesome! Looking forward to it!

[ggreaves]

Great report, Bubba. Sorry I couldn't make this one.

[Shotgunpapa]

looks like ya'll had a great time.

[The Old Boot]

looks like ya'll had a great time.

We sure did!

Weather was great - as in it didn't rain!

Food was wonderful, many thanks to the head chef!!

All present were great company!

It doesn't get much better than that!!

[Chard]

Soups On!!
EGL Fall Hang 2015



After a post here and there, some last minute arrangements and a kindly blessing from Mother Nature, the EGL Fall 2015 Hang to Pen Lake finally came to pass. Many thanks to everyone who was able to come out and enjoy a wonderful weekend.

At eight thirty in the morning on Thursday September 24, 2015, my daughter slammed the car door and marched off to school. By noon I was pulling out of Huntsville after buying the final ingredients for our group meals, a replacement memory card for my camera that had decided to give up the ghost the night before, and a bottle of Laphroaig's Quarter Cask single malt for the soul.

For the entire trip to the Park, the autumn colours along the highway seemed barely noticeable. Even in the higher elevations of the Algonquin Highlands upon which the Park was located, the few hints of yellow, orange and red seemed dominated by dark reds and browns. Normally, after a healthy growing season during the summer, the autumn colours are at their best when nice warm, dry days are followed by nice, cool, frost free nights. The year before, in 2014, the conditions aligned to produce one of the most spectacular fall displays I had ever seen. Algonquin in 2014 truly rivaled the beauty of the Golden Wood of Lothlórien. The last few weeks had been quite mild and it would take a few nights of frost to really bring out the colours. It looked like we were a few weeks early this year.


Rock Lake

By the time I had registered and pulled down to the docks of the Rock Lake access point it was already quarter past one in the afternoon and not a soul was to be seen. Back at the Park Office, the Ranger had confirmed that four other people had registered on my permit, two early that morning and another two around midday. Fair enough, I had expected 76 Highboy and 1csleptonkayak to head in early to claim a campsite on what was expected to be a busy weekend in the park, but I was surprised to find that the Old Boot and Entropy were nowhere to be seen. They had arranged to share a rental canoe and paddle in together and, despite this being Entropy's maiden voyage as a sterns-man, had apparently set out ahead of me.

So I had the docks to myself. I pulled my car around to a spot of grass and proceed to unload first my canoe and then my assorted baggage. This trip I chose to pack a little differently. Instead of using my traditional massive 120 litre (4.2 cubic foot) Ostrum Wabakimi canoe pack, I was taking out my Rush 72 pack with a dry bag containing my my quilts and extra clothes slung below. I'd also be carrying a second day pack for group meal ingredients and pot. Finally I'd throw all of my final valuables into my new Watershed drybag; an awesome peice of kit I purchased after our whitewater course that spring. As a consequence, instead of everything fits neatly, albeit heavily, into the Wabakimi, I'd have to contend with two smaller and lighter packs and likely have to double carry the one short portage from Rock to Pen Lake.

The sky was clear and the sun was beating down on me as I puttering about getting my canoe ready to head in. I expected that the paddle in to take a little over two hours and it was a pleasure not to be rushing about. While I was busy lashing the milk crate I use as a seat to my canoe, a couple paddled around the bend in the river and up to the docks returning, as they informed me, from a week long trip to Pen Lake and Clydegale Lake. They excitedly told me about the predatory bear they had seen back on Pen. That's not good. In alarm, I asked if they didn't really mean a nuisance bear.

"Yeah, a nuisance bear. That's what I meant." said the chap chuckling.

Exhale... A nuisance bear's one thing; a predatory bear, that's a whole different ball of wax.

As the story went, apparently a bear had boldly wandered into their campsite that morning and couldn't be deterred from helping itself to their breakfast. It was obvious that this bear had had run-ins with the authorities in the past because each of it's ears sported a yellow tag, definitely marking it as a nuisance bear habituated to humans and their food. Unfortunately these kinds of nuisance bears often had to be destroyed before they hurt someone. They were quite surprised when I told them that in my 35+ years of paddling I had yet to see a bear in the wilds. Maybe this weekend would be different.

As they went about the business of unloading their gear, I took care of my final task, decanting my bottle of Laphroaig into one of my nalagene bottles. That being done, I quietly toasted the beautiful day, packed away my spirits, climbed aboard my faithful red canoe "Lipstick" and pushed away from the docks at exactly two pm.



It turned out to be quite a hot afternoon. The weather was wonderful; sunny, hot and there was a wind at my back. Across the lake to the east, the cliffs of Booth Rock rose high above the forest canopy. It didn't take long to get back into the rhythm of paddling and soon I was passing by the high pictograph cliffs on the lake's western shore. Ahead two kayakers came around the point that lead to the long southwest arm of Rock Lake and the portage to Pen. I thought that perhaps 76 Highboy and 1csleptonkayak had taken a day trip back onto Rock to meet up with me, but as they approached, it was obvious that they were just strangers out for a day's cruising. They warned me that ahead at the portage, nine canoes had were in the process of doing the portage and that it was bedlam. I thanked them for the warning and slowed down my paddling, stopping to take pictures and just generally soak in the day.



By the time I made it to the end of the channel, the portage was empty. Not a canoe was in sight and once again I had a landing to myself. I pulled ashore, unloaded my gear and got ready to double carry; first my main pack, paddles and life jacket and then again with my food day pack and the canoe. It looked like the Park had done some new trail work because the boardwalk seemed to have been lengthened a fair bit. At the far end I placed my canoe into the water beside the dock and stopped for a bit to eat and a little soda. After a few minutes I packed up and paddled out into the North bay of Pen.

Now came the challenge; which campsite were we on? We had agreed that two options, the Northern Island (EGL Fall 2013) and the Beach (EGL Fall 2014) were our first choices and then failing that we'd work our way clockwise around the lake down the eastern shore and back up the western until we found a site. I paddled out into the middle of the bay and gave a loud "Whoo-buddy" (The international call of the hanger) and immediately got a couple of "Whoo-buddies" back from the island ahead. Excellent! The hang had been found. So two hours and ten minutes after I left the access point I was pulling my canoe up on the little beach beside another canoe and two kayaks. Next to them, on a staff pushed into the sand was small a piece of cardboard that read "EGL Hang". There could be no mistake, this was home for the weekend.


Pen Island

This particular campsite was pretty nice; a wide open flat area for the fire pit, numerous trees from which to hang and some large interesting erratics (glacial boulders) dropped around the site. Some of the cedars on this site also were quite interesting, twisting and bending in very unusual ways. We shared the island with another site at the southern end, but it was a good 150-200 metres away. As expected, up in camp I ran into The Old Boot, 76 Highboy and Entropy and was introduced myself to 1cseptonkayak, a very nice chap from Ohio who had spent the earlier part of the week kayaking and bushwhacking through Killarney Provincial Park, one of Ontario's most famous parks some 150 km northwest of Algonquin, with Lofty, Mark and 76 Highboy.

Getting right down to business I picked out a spot on the northernmost end of the island between two large cedars. My Warbonnet Blackbird and my 4 season DIY down quilts were hung and even though the forecast called for clear skies that evening, I staked out my DIY 12' Blackcat tarp fairly high above my hammock, just in case.


Chard's Rig

Dinner for the night was blood pudding sausage on a squirrel cooker. I concede that it sounds rather ghoulish, but I grew up on this rice/barley/meat/blood sausage and only recently discovered the joys of roasting it over an open fire. I used to think blood pudding was an Eastern European dish, but the best pudding I ever had was made by a little old Afro-Caribbean lady back on the island of Montserrat. Go figure. Besides, I'm half Hungarian! Blood, as they say, is in our veins!

A little before dark we set about hanging the food. In our neck of the woods black bears can be an issue, particularly with a nuisance bear in the neighborhood, so it's best practice to throw a rope over an overhanging branch and haul the food bags at least fifteen feet in the air and five feet from the trunk of a large tree at least one hundred yards from camp. As simple as that may sound, sometimes finding the right tree with the right branch in the middle forest can be frustratingly difficult, and on an island, you have to take what you can find. The tree we chose was a couple of dozen yards from the fire-pit and the branch was quite high, at least thirty feet, off the ground. After many close tries, and a couple of hilariously failed attempts Entropy and 1csleptonkayak finally manged to get one end of Entropy's one hundred foot length of dynema up and over the branch and get a climbing carbiner clipped on. By the time we had finished, the sun had set and night had fallen. A word of advice, hang your bear rope early.

After dinner we sat around chatting, having a drink or two or three and watching the fire. 76 Highboy pulled out a bottle of Fireball cinnamon whisky but after one sip the demon on the label said it all, it tasted like hell! Like cinnamon hearts dialed up to 12 on the raunchy scale. But to each their own, Highboy and Entropy made a noble effort to polish it off.

We cleared up the fire-pit area and hung all of the food bags from Entropy's one line. It seemed like a ridiculous amount of weight for five people for the weekend, but we did have fresh potatoes, carrots, onions and fix'ns for our two group dinners. EGL hangers do not go hungry as a rule. We had a strong branch and that braided line could've easily handled ten times as much weight. The only challenge was hitching up the mules and hauling the food high into the air. Enter mule number one: Entropy and mule number two: yours truly. We each grabbed a neatly sawed piece of inch thick branch for a toggle, wrapped the line around it a few times and then hauled away. On the second night I came up with a new way to secure the line. We'd haul up the line and then hold the toggle in place behind the second tree we had chosen to secure the running line to. With the toggle holding all of the weight, a figure eight is tightly lashed across the front of the trunk over the toggle and a couple of half hitches finish it off. That way there's no need to handle the rope itself, particularly given the weight and thin diameter. Simple. Clean. The Chard lashing.


Chard Lashing

Back at the fire we got to talking and drinking and before I knew it it was getting late. With only about three hours of sleep the night before, on top of the drive and the paddle in, I was exhausted. I shamelessly decided to hit the hammock early and left the others staring into the fire.

In the middle of the night I awoke to hear what sounded like growls coming from the direction of the fire-pit. I lay perfectly still and listened intently. There it was again. Definitely some kind of growl, maybe that yellow tagged bear rummaging through our site. Food bags were secure, camp was clean and it was unlikely that it would wander over and bother us hammockers. Another growl. I carefully and quietly reached under my quilt and lay my hands across my waist. Another growl a little closer but this time it was accompanied by a pronounced rumbling in my belly. Either I had sleep eaten a grumpy bear or I had a rumbly in my tumbly. Either way I felt like a fool as I turned over and went back to sleep.


1csleptonkayak's Rig

Early the next morning I woke to the familiar sounds of someone quietly launching a canoe a little ways away from me. 1csleptonkayak had mentioned about going out for an early morning paddle to try and see some wildlife. Later he told us how, as he was calmly paddling around the back bay behind our campsite, he had been startled by a large brown animal moving quickly from the forest and into the water. "Bear cub" was his first thought, but a moment later was sure that it had been a beaver. There certainly was quite a bit of evidence of beaver activity around and I think he even mentioned seeing a beaver lodge in the area. Not quite the moose he was looking for, but a beaver's pretty cool as well. It is, after all, the national animal of Canada.


Old Boot's Rig

Getting up for breakfast a little late I found that everyone was awake and the fire was going. Breakfast was an Alpneaire dehydrated omelet mix with spinach and cheese mix that required cooking all wrapped in a whole wheat tortilla, chunks of spicy Hungarian sausage skewered roasted in front of the fire and hot coffee. Delicious.

It was a lazy morning and I think it was a little after lunch when 76 Highboy, 1csleptonkayak, Entropy and I headed off across the sandy spit to the mainland to collect firewood. 76 Highboy, 1csleptonkayak headed south along the shoreline and Entropy and I turned and walked fairly straight out to the higher ground inland, always remembering to take a look behind to see where we've come from, a wise safety tip. We followed a well worn game trail until it intersected what I thought was an old forgotten logging track. We were quite particular and walked a fair way before finding the couple of trees we wanted for firewood. On the way back we ran into 1csleptonkayak dragging some more wood and by the time we got back to camp a respectable pile of firewood had been gathered. Like true hammockers five people brought out five saws and in short order a healthy pile of firewood was cut and stacked close by. I then took my axe to some of the larger pieces, splitting them down into manageable sizes. We were set for the night.


Entropy's Rig

Based on information from the Park Rangers, we knew that Pen Lake would be quite busy this weekend and sure enough, we saw quite a few groups of paddlers go by. As I alluded to before, our island was connected to the western mainland to the by a sandy spit. It also was connected to another island to the east by a line of boulders that looked passable, but required a lift-over. The canoe route proper actually went along the far eastern shore of the lake but despite that groups of people would paddle down our little bay and get confused. Despite our directions some of the more adventurous would portage over the rocks. Others would very sensibly paddle out of our little bay and continue on their way. Finally a couple of canoes with some young chaps in passed by looking like they were heading to the south end of our island

The day before I had pilfered a heavy iron fire grate, one of the standard four legged park issue grates, from that site. Unfortunately it sat a little low for our purposes. We needed another one. There was an assortment of flimsy rusted grates on our site, an eye-sore really, but nothing substantial. Entropy and I walked quickly over to the other site. As the newcomers were unloading their canoes, Entropy, with all the stealth of a Baggins, slipped up to the grates resting up against a tree, selected a suitably stout one and hot-footed it the hell out of there!! Mischief managed!

Dinner that night was originally planned to be French Canadian pea soup, but in order to lighten the food bags we agreed to prepare the clam chowder. The fire was built up and allowed to burn down to a nice cooking fire. Old Boot did us the kindness of prepping the onions and bacon while 1csleptonkayak took care of peeling the potatoes. Onions and double smoked bacon set to saute and then the potatoes were thrown followed by a few turns of black pepper, salt and a bay leaves. The pot was covered and the whole thing was set to simmer.


Chowder time (Left to right: 76 Highboy, 1csleptonkayak, Old Boot, Keg, Entropy)

Now up to this point there had only been five of us out at the hang, but we were expecting to be joined by Keg at some point on Friday. Because of other commitments, even he wasn't exactly sure when he'd be able to get on the water; either some time after two pm or in a worst case scenario sometime after seven pm. In actuality, despite his gruff exterior, Keg's quite a remarkable fellow. As an inner-city high school teacher from Toronto, he's seen his share of tough and troubled youths. For the last few years he's taken it upon himself to lead select groups of these kids on camping trips, something I'm sure is a completely new experience for most of them. I guess it's a chance for them to get away from their daily routine and hopefully discover something deeper within themselves. A few of the more promising ones are even asked to return as "senior mentors" to help with other groups in subsequent years. All in all it's an impressive calling and I'm certain it's changed many lives. It also explains how Keg seems to have so much patience with the rest of us hangers.


Keg's Rig

Anyways, as we were puttering around making dinner we heard a shout from the down by the water. Sure enough there was Keg, walking with a big smile into camp. Greetings all around. Not only that, but he mentioned that he had met up with Bubba along the way, so I walked down to the spit and sure enough there was Bubba paddling in his new prospector canoe up onto the beach. What an unexpected surprise. At last count he was saying that for various reasons he wouldn't likely be able to come out, but at the last minute his wonderful wife gave him the go-ahead. A fine lady. We walked up off of the beach together and up into camp. The gang had all arrived.


Bubba's Rig

Before long everyone was settled in around the fire enjoying bowls of New England Clam Chowder (an EGL tradition) and fresh bread courtesy of Keg. We got to talking and 76 Highboy recalled a story from Hammock Forums about the creepiest things that had happened while solo hanging. It went something like this: a lady was hanging by herself and heard some sounds in the forest behind her hammock the first night. She didn't think much of it, assuming that it was just a small animal or something. The next night the same thing happened. There was something moving around behind her, but she managed to drift off to sleep nonetheless. Later the next day, when flipping through the photos on her digital camera she noticed, to her dismay, that the last few pictures were of her sleeping in her hammock. Shudder... True or not, that story gave me the willies.


76 Highboy's Rig

We threw a couple of logs onto the fire and 76 Highboy cajoled 1csleptonkayak into telling his story. While the specific details are probably best left around the fire, suffice to say that sometimes the creepiest things in the woods of Ohio aren't the Sasquatch but those that hunt them. White man builds big fire and sits far away. Indian builds small fire and sits close. Ohioans would be wise to build big fire, sit close and sharpen machetes. 'Nuff said.

I was up early the next morning, awakened by 1csleptonkayak heading back on another wilderness safari paddle. I quickly got out of my hammock, intent on doing a little early morning fishing. I buckled on my kilt, grabbed my fishing gear and life-jacket and ever so quietly launched my canoe. The eastern end of the bay was absolutely lovely, shrouded in a fog that seemed to be spilling out of the forest. I threw on a spinner and set about trolling for brook trout along the shoreline of the bay. I worked my way north hoping to see 1csleptonkayak's kayak, to no avail. I turned to the right, towards the east and paddled along the shore to the camp of loud yahoos campers who had been making noise all night and were up again resuming the ruckus at the crack of dawn, talking at full volume without the slightest consideration for anyone else on the lake. I paddled quietly by their site and startled a guy who had walked down to get some water. I love doing that. I could clearly hear them muttering comments about me coming over to "check out the rowdy guys", but I just kept on paddling. Around the rest of the bay and into the mists.



Eventually I returned back to camp only to find that everyone with the exception of Keg was up and getting about the business of preparing breakfast. This time it was a wrap containing some Alpineaire Mexican omelet mix with sausage, green peppers and potato, roasted sausage and coffee. Delicious. We messed around camp for a few more hours, 76 Highboy went for a swim and I followed an hour later. Even thought the water was fairly cold, it felt good to wash off the grim of the past couple of days.


Bubba, Entropy and Keg discussing affairs of state

After lunch, Highboy, Entropy and I headed off to do some fishing on the Galipo River at the south end of the lake. We each started in our own canoe, but a moderate southerly breeze was making solo canoeing a little difficult. Entropy and I paddled back to camp and took out his rented 16' prospector. He's a strong bows-man so we made excellent time across the lake. Before long had reached the wide flats that marked the outflow of the Galipo. Although we could paddle most of the narrow creek, there were several places where we were forced to wade along its sandy bottom, pulling the canoe along or lifting it over beaver dams. We didn't have to go very far to find the landing for the portage. We pulled our canoes up onto a grassy clearing opposite the portage and were able to cross the intervening rock studded river by stepping carefully from stone to stone. With fishing rods in hand Entropy led the way down to the fishing pool we had tried the year before. We started casting but got beyond a few nibbles and one or two tiny fish didn't have any luck. 76 Highboy worked his way up over the little falls up river while Entropy went to try the pools below. I decided to stick it out and just try a variety of lures to try and coax up the lunker I was sure were hiding in that pool.

At one point I had been casting up by the waterfall when I looked behind me and saw a lovely young lady sitting on the rocks taking photographs. Who was this Goldberry? Where did she come from? Looking back towards the trail the answer became clear. Three other people were picking their was to the pool, another lady and two gents, one younger and one older chap who was obviously her father. We got to talking about camping on Pen Lake, fishing and how there was a good area to try for lakers by the cliffs of southern Rock Lake. After a while they said their goodbyes and made their way back to the portage trail to finish off their day trip.

In the meantime Entropy had come up so we packed up our gear and headed off upstream after 76 Highboy to see if there were any other promising fishing holes. We made our way to the end of the portage where the Galipo river spilled over a steep rock staircase down to a fairly large pool, all told easily a drop of fifty feet. I picked out a spot high above and half-heartedly tried jigging near the head of the pool while Entropy carefully worked his way down to the water's edge and caught a respectable brook trout. He managed to get it up to the rocks by his feet so I consider that a win, but given his precarious footing, Entropy wasn't able to reach down and grab it before the trout came unhooked and flopped back into the water. Prudence over pride. Wise move.


Galipo River- Upper Pool

I shouted down to Entropy that I was going onwards to check this end of the portage. I carefully got back onto the trail and came out in a wide wet meadow, the narrow Galipo river hidden amongst the reeds. I had been this way once before years ago and had forgotten how pretty the area was. After snapping a couple of pictures I met up with Entropy and we went in search of 76 Highboy. The canyon we were in was quite steep and most of the time the river could only be heard rushing below. We shouted Highboy's name several times but didn't receive a response. In my mind's eye I had visions of him scrambling over slippery rocks and slipping into a deep pool, never to be seen again. We were almost back at the pool and I was getting a little anxious when we finally hear his answering call. We were glad to see him and even gladder to hear about the three trout he had caught! Thanks to a little fire-tiger Rapala, we could return back to camp victorious!


Upper Galipo

It was well past four but the paddle back took no time at all. We were a little concerned about how low the sun was on the horizon. We threaded our canoe and kayak through the rocks by our campsite and pulled up on the beach. Hungry from a long outing, the three of us half hoped that the rest of the gang had gone out for firewood and already had a big pot of soup waiting for us. Even as we pulled up we were sure we smelled something cooking. Imagine our disappointment when we walked up into cam and discovered everyone lolligagging around camp and my pot sitting empty on a bench by the fire. To be absolutely fair, we did say that we'd bring back some firewood. We had even taken a bucksaw with us. Besides, all of the ingredients, not to mention the recipe for our pea soup was buried in my food bag.

But once the word was given everyone got quickly to the work of preparing dinner, collecting and then processing firewood. Once again the fire was lit and dinner was underway. French Canadian pea soup is as about as easy a soup to make as there is, it just takes a couple of hours for the dried split yellow to soften up so dinner would be in the dark tonight. With the light failing I pushed all of the burning logs to one side of the fire-pit to provide some light and left enough coals below the pot to maintain a steady simmer. Incidentally, we weren't imagining things earlier. The cooking we had smelled on the way back was Old Boot's early dinner.

Our final night around the fire was a fun one. More talk. More drink. Every now and then someone would get up and stir the pot. The French Canadian pea soup turned out quite nice and eventually everyone was sitting happily around the fire enjoying a steam bowl of soup. I think we even made a convert of 1csleptonkayak, who was initially a little dubious about peas soup. As I've mentioned on previous hangs, I understand those times when everyone brings and prepares their own food, I always feel that there's something missing. A feeling of community and shared purpose. I don't think I'm alone in saying that the group dinners are somehow an important part of our EGL hangs. Viva Le Chow-daa!

While sitting around the fire we could see stars peeking out from behind the trees so some of us walked down to the sandy spit to end our last night contemplating the vastness of space. For the entire trip we had been blessed with a exceedingly bright waxing moon. Tonight it was only one night away from full. In fact it was the night before the great Super moon eclipse of 2105, when a lunar eclipse coincided with a blood moon. The forecast for tomorrow night was clear up in Algonquin and the viewing would be spectacular, but unfortunately we'd be back home by then. In actuality Toronto was so overcast Sunday night that I only managed to glimpse the moon once, moments before the eclipse began. No worries; the next Super moon was only eighteen years away. We walked back up to the fire and before long people started heading off to bed. We sat around the fire a little longer as 76 Highboy fried up and shared his trout, but it wasn't much longer before everyone was tucked away in their hammocks.



Sunday morning dawn bright and clear and everyone was up early, even Keg, who is a notorious quilt connoisseur. As people were finishing up their packing and breakfast Bubba came by to say his farewells. As a novice paddler, he wanted to give himself a head start over the rest of us, expected that we'd overtake him eventually. Less than thirty minutes later, at just around ten am, the rest of us pushed away from the Island and turned northwards. We met a couple of other groups at the portage and things got a little crowded, but our crew quickly got down to business. Since this was our only one of the day and it was quite short, I didn't really take the effort to stow everything away for an efficient single carry. I staggered along the trail for a dozen paces, thought better of it and dropped my canoe and paddles. Looking down the lake I was certain I spotted Bubba paddling off into the distance. I returned for the rest of my gear a few minutes later and once all of my gear was across, returned yet a third time to help with 1csleptonkayak's kayak. Along the way I met up with Goldberry and her family as they were making their way along the portage.

As Keg and I were waiting for help with 1csleptonkayak's kayak I suggested that we try to manage it ourselves. The others could help when the returned. Keg took the front and I took the back and I had expected it to be quite heavy but was very surprised to discover that it couldn't have weighed more than thirty-five or forty pounds. It definitely felt lighter than my canoe. On a lark I asked Keg to hold the kayak steady as I positioned myself amidships to see if it was possible to portage the kayak like a canoe. It was perfect! The two pontoons rested on my shoulders while my head supported the fabric decking. I scampered up off the beach and onto the trail, often not even needed to use my hands the balance was so perfect. We ran into the rest of the gang on their return trip for the kayak, but despite their offers of assistance, I carried on carrying. I was in a groove and all but jogged to the other end.

After a drink and some food we set out again onto Rock Lake. This time the wind was at our backs and all but blew us down the lake. We stopped once to look for the pictographs and then casually paddled out way out. Keg captured the feeling of the moment perfectly when he said he likes to take his time and savour the paddle our. A good trip was behind us. The hustle and bustle of everyday life was ahead. But at that moment, with a wind at your back, everything was good. I think we all agreed.


Rock Lake's Pictograph Cliffs

We entered the last channel towards the car park, the same river that continues up to Lake of Two Rivers. Around the last bend we finally caught glimpse of the car park, but this time, instead of the sunbaked solitude I enjoyed at the start of the trip, the access point was a madhouse with a score of canoes coming and going. A school bus was just rumbling away as I finally pulled my canoe onshore and who should I see in front me? Bubba!

We loaded the cars, changed into clean clothes, and headed down the dusty dirt road to Highway 60 and Canoe Lake where we'd stop for our customary burger at the Portage Store restaurant. Before long the seven of us were seated back in our usual spot in the far corner overlooking the antics of the day-trippers in amongst the various canoeing parties setting out and returning. True to form we had the couple sitting face to face, we had the lady narrowly miss doing the splits into the water as her canoe drifted away from the docks. We saw young ladies in nice dresses sit in their canoe's wet bottoms and short-shorts that bordered on indecent. We toasted to a wonderful trip and wonderful company and set about devouring a feast of burgers, fires, onion rings, salads, beers and sodas. All par for the course at the Portage Store on a sunny afternoon.

As we were saying our final farewells a chap with a walking stick came up to me. He pointed at my shirt and said ruefully that he hadn't been able to go hanging that weekend owing to his recent motorcycle accident. A little bewildered I looked down and laughed; I had thrown on one of Shug's black and orange t-shirt's back at the car park and it all suddenly made sense. The Brotherhood of the Hammock! I told him that we had all just returned from one of our EGL hangs and invited him to check us out. Everyone's welcome!

With a few final waves the seven of us scattered to the four winds, each intent on getting home quickly and safely. Another great EGL Hang was in the books.


Chard

[Bubba]

Thanks for your report Chard. Helps fill me in on what I missed.

[1csleptonkayak]

Thanks, Bubba and Chard, for the recap! And thanks to all who attended for arranging the great weather and making me feel welcomed on my first (not last) camping trip to Canada. Here are a few of my photos.

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Chard, 76Highboy, The Old Boot, Entropy around the fire

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loading up to depart our campsite at Pen Lake

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A kilted Chard portaging his canoe. Looks like very comfortable attire, the kilt, but may attract way too much attention from Sasquatch hunters around the lakes where I sometimes camp.

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all 7 of us at the Algonquin Portage Store Restaurant
clockwise from lower left ... Keg, 76Highboy, Bubba, Chard, Entropy, The Old Boot, 1csleptonkayak

[76 highboy]

Fine penmanship guys! Couldn't have said it better myself
Great company,food and weather.
Hopefully the EGL represented Canada well and we gave our American friend some fond memories of his trip here.
Lord knows I still have a ton of scratches on my legs from that bushwacking in Killarney