NIPISSING to NAISCOOT in FIFTEEN DAYS
This is only the second year that Pine Crest has employed this route, a route partially touched by those explorers who opened up Canada through exploration. (Lindsay Staples was the first to guide this route and offered some tips.) In part we have become part of T.S. Elliott’s prophecy in which he states: “THE MAGUS”
“Man shall never cease in his explorations!”
Staff: Barney Moorhouse (guide); Steve Rumm (staff sternsman)
Campers:
John Burt, 321 Delrex Blvd., Georgetown, Ontario
Daryl Copeland, 91 Roxborough St. E., Toronto, 5, Ont.
Scott Doan, 37 Appledale Road, Islington, Ont.
Dave Jackson, 117 Rockport Crescent, Richmond Hill, Ont.
Ted Lister, 111 Roxborough St. W., Toronto 5, Ont., P.C.3
Tom Manson, #45-41 Valleywoods Road, Don Mills, Ont.
Rick Williams, 254 Walden Dr., Burlington, Ont.
Day Schedule:
- North Side Lake Nipissing
- South Side Lake Nipissing
- Trout Lake – Knights of Columbus Camp Ground
- Trout Lake – Junior Forest Ranger Camp
- French River Settlement Area
- Deer Bay – on the French River before portage to Pickerel
- Pickerel Rapids – Hunter or Trapper Cabin
- Dollars Lake – Hunter Cabin (The Beef Trust?)
- Noganosh Lake
- Crow Lake
- Crow Lake
- Sinclair Lake
- Sinclair Lake
- Naiscoot
- Pick-up
Day 1 August 11, 1969
We spend time searching for an “unsieve” canoe; apparently, a fruitless search. Lynn Balmer reclaims the light fiberglass from certain death on the Pickerel, and Dan Torok retrieves an out-trip canoe. Finally, we take a Red Pioneer which is in need of repair. Good thing we have two fiberglass repair kits.
Also, our backboards and packs are missing so we must do with less descent equipment.
10:45 – The beginning of our 15 day saga. We set out for Sturgeon Falls via Camp Bus with Pork Chops, Tripper Sandwiches…
11:30 – Breakfast outside Bracebridge. First good HOT Bacon & Eggs in a long time.
12:00 – Back on the road again.
1:30 – Burks Falls for lunch. Big Ben (the caged bear) is still in a cage at the gas station after approximately eight years. There should be a law against small cages. Tripper’s sandwiches.
2:15 – Back on the road again.
3:30 – Sturgeon Falls drop off. Feel al alone now in a new environment. Won’t see camp for 15 days, then it will be almost finished for another year. The dock is a good four feet out of the water. Load canoes with caution. Tom’s paddle is missing so he borrows the extra which is Barney’s.
6:30 – Lindsay suggested camping on an island opposite the island housing the 360 degree cottage. However, this proved to be unsatisfactory so we moved on to camp near a White cottage on a cottager’s directions. Someone is pulling our leg because we manage to set up camp and John returns with news that our neighbour island is an excellent campsite with chopped firewood, clothesline…Apparently, a cottage had burned down.
Pork Chops for supper cooked over a fire built in an old ice box. We baked the hamburger (10 pounds) for our next supper. We top the day off with marshmallows, butterscotch pudding and John’s plastic “light show.” We retire to our tents set upon smooth rock except for Rick, Ted and Dave who found grass somewhere.
Crews: – Camper Canoe (CC) – Stern-Daryl, Mid – Tom, Bow – Scott.
Steve’s canoe – Mid – Ted, Bow – Dave. Barney’s – Mid – John, Bow – Rick.
Campsite – Island, North Shore, Lake Nipissing, near the mouth of the Sturgeon River.
Day 2
6:00 am – Beautiful sunrise; prepare breakfast.
7:00 am – Steve and the campers awake and arise.
9:00 am – approximately – we break out for day 2.
No portages today. What a soft life, just paddling. We set our sights on the Ranger Tower on the South shore side and dash among the islands for protection against a possible storm as Nipissing can whip up severely in short order. Hen we reach the fire tower we have to climb it for the view. On his second attempt Steve makes it to the top. Dave declined to go all the way up. The view is beautiful, awesome.
We paddle into the wind all day with the camper canoe lagging behind. We stop for launch on an island and have a refreshing swim for the sun is hot. Later in the day we take another break during which Steve’s yellow hat and Rick somehow both end up in the lake.
We are seeking the good campsites at Suckers Creek (according to Lindsay) but:
- Noone has ever heard of Suckers Creek;
- When we do find the place there are no campsites;
- Some stay at the D.H.O. place with a fireplace stall.
Daryl makes an excellent soup, Chile Con Carne, hamburger, onions, and peas for supper and, as it is late, – to bed.
CC – Daryl – stern; Scott – bow, Tom – Mid. Steve – stern; Dave – bow; Ted – Mid; Barney – stern; Rick – bow, John – Mid.
Day 3
7:00 am – Rise, break by 10:00 – a slow process.
Corn flakes, omelette and juice. This is the day that John keeps some extra omelette as his emergency rations to everyones’ “UGH!”
We make good time in the morning as there was no portage where we had expected one. It turned out to be just a paddle through a passage trransversing high cliffs. Upon reaching the beginning to the BEAR LAKE PORTAGE we ran into an old cougar, “Frenchy” who abhorred us landing upon his $36.00 per year gravel beach. Lindsay had claimed that we could get breakfast at this White Tail Lodge. If that was the case I would hate to have one of his 3 course meals. I think he was afraid we would disturb his gravel bed. Tempers are held in check and we start the portage. There is no going back!
A farmer allows us to use his road to BEAR LAKE where we found a well. Steve and Barney return to pick up the rest of the packs.
After a lunch break we move on to the Saw Mill at 3:00 pm. Portage on map appears to be short and Lindsay affirms this. The Saw Mill portage turns out to be something else. Scott carries his canoe singles but the wood pile prevents him from continuing without assistance. Daryl goes back to help, Dave tries ascending the wood pile and Barney forges a trail through 5 foot prickle bushes.
The Saw Mill is a small operation consisting of a dam, storage building, saw mill and wood pile. Extremely hot, we move on in search of a swim area where we find a cantankerous Gardner snake which tries to bite Daryl who, meanwhile, is trying to grab it.
We continue into the Wolsey Swamp in search of Trout Lake – carry over, short paddle , portage, carry over, paddle, portage, paddle, portage up the rapids…Very tiring, exasperating, and only about two hours of sunlight remain.
HURRAY!!! Trout Lake – but Daryl and Scott are missing due to a broken strap on the food pack – what luck! Quel chance!
We stop at a nearby lodge for pop, chocolate bars…We are told of a campsite down the lake complete with fireplace. In the meantime Ted returns to the portage for some knives that he forgot.
Knights of Columbus Campsite – a fire already going as we arrive approximately at 9:00 pm after 11 hours of paddling and portaging. After a quick snack of soup and apples, three tired crews hit the sack. (Funny how I can recall this as yesterday in 2008.) Daryl frees the snapping turtle in the morning.
Crews: CC – Stern – Scott, Bow – Daryl, Mid – Rick; Steve, Ted (Mid), Dave (bow); Barney, John (bow), Tom (Mid).
Day 4
Rise at 8:00 am. Rick promptly finds a hornet’s nest and walks into it for which he is duly rewarded by being stung. Fried corn beef and corn flakes for breakfast.
Depart at 10 am. Signs of rain. Dave is the Tripper for the day.
After three stores, 1 mammoth bass caught while trolling by Barney and 2 hours searching for a campsite we decide to stay at a Junior Forest Ranger’s Camp. (From 1972-1975 I ran a similar camp for the MNR.) A taxing day of a whole four hour paddle.
After a big spaghetti supper we hit the sack early for a welcome rest.
Crews: CC – Stern – Dave, Bow – Ted, Mid – John; Steve, Bow – Tom, Mid – Daryl; Barney, Bow – Scott, Mid – Rick.
Day 5 – The Longest Day – 9:00 am to 9:00 pm
The map is unreliable. The Dodd Lake portage is longer than the map shows. Scott reports back that the trail only leads to a swamp. This must be the place. Further investigation uncovers a tree bridge across the marsh. We find a good campsite at the end of the portage. Rick is once again stung by a bee as is John.
After paddling from one end of the lake to the other, Steve and Barney split up in search of the portage. After following the trail to its end we decide it is to long and too easy to get lost on. There goes an hour. Steve, our Tripper for the day, decides to forget the portage and to follow the river bed.
Steve leaves first with his and Barney’s crew. Barney, Dave and John follow with their two canoes and arrive at the beginning of the portage path after losing sight of Steve. Dave and Barney agree to go back to the River Bed and Barney sets off.
John and Dave have disappeared and for one fruitless hour we search before John shows up. Apparently John and Dave had second thoughts about the river bed and decided to follow the path. Now we have lost two hours, and we still haven’t crossed the portage. What could have been a fun swamp stomp has now turned into frustration. We walk, carry and paddle our canoes downstream through leech infested waters, over tree trunks…Suddenly, out of nowhere; Steve and Jackson appear as gondoliers and soon Voila – Round Lake.
Casualties: John cut his leg; a big blood sucker likes Steve; Barney has blisters; Rick splits his pants.
We paddle to the end (?) of Round Lake and Steve decides to follow the river bed instead of the portage – the walk over is fun, no leaches and the water is refreshingly cool and fast. We emerge into a swamp. Is this the Murdoch River? It is supposed to be. Exhausted we find a rock and take a two hour lunch break of chicken stew, peaches and freshie.
After a wash, medical check and leach check, we end our lunch break at 5:05 pm. After a brief paddle we come to a beaver dam. We pray we aren’t looking at Ink Lake.
A family swimming nearby informs us that this indeed is the Murdoch. Now it is a race against time to our campsite. There is a small carry over at a bridge on Highway 64. Here we meet our first friendly Frenchman at the Saw Mill. For the majority of our trip the French were generally unpleasant and glum.
We meet some boys who tell us of a nearby campsite with store…This information, like most we have received from local people, proves to be incorrect. We stay at a DHO place as it is now dark and we couldn’t possible make our destination. Steve goes to the store nearby and buys our meal – peanut butter and jam sandwiches, plus a quart of milk for each tent.
Day 6 – The Shortest Day
Arose at..? Noon or pm? It was overcast and the watches have stopped cooperating. Rick cuts himself on a “key” opening a can of meat. The sun manages to break through indicating the time to be 1:00 pm; the watches say 11:00 am. The camper canoe is sinking fast. Thank goodness we haven’t far to go before we reach the Village of French River. We have several delays while they bail out. Three bails later, we reach Tom Schell’s at French River. There are a lot of unexpected cottages on the Murdoch near French River.
We begin our shopping spree for five days of supplies with $25.00. There are a lot of fishermen, tent and trailer people, Indians, Marines (Boy Scouts) from New York. The store’s clock informs us that the time is now 3:00 pm. Well so much for this day! We had slept longer than planned. The camper canoe fixed, the hole with John’s raincoat pocket and steel hardener. Some fellows phone home, others write. As we wet out for the Pickerel River (I wonder if it has changed to Walleye R.?) the marines took a break from renting their motor boats to watch us depart.
We camp on the Deer Bay side of the portage into the Pickerel. We must wake up early to make up for lost time. The mosquitoes are unusually terrible for this time of the year. It must be the warm muggy weather. While setting up camp we discover that we forgot some of our supplies at French River. Tripper for the day (John) plus Rick and Steve return for them.
Rick’s cut is OK. No luck trolling.
Day 7 – A Day and one-half
We arise to an overcast sky and break camp about 10 am. We meet some fishermen who say it rained very hard during the night approximately 40 miles away. Here we are on Cantin Lake and believe it or not the wind and current are actually with us. The sun makes an appearance and here we are, part of a glorious warm day.
Tom is feeling ill so he rides dead weight for a while. The number of cottages on the Pickerel River surprise us. We were hoping to get away from people totally. We are all beginning to feel the sun when we come to a set of rapids under a bridge. This proves to be just what we need, for after a refreshing slide and swim down the rapids we are ready to move on. We wished that we could have stayed longer.
We approach more rapids but decide to walk up them instead of portaging. Once more we have a good time.
We meet some fishermen as one catches a two pound bass. After a “hip hip hurray” and applause we move on to Squah Lake. We hand out salt pills and Rick sucks his, with warning not to, and it soon causes him to vomit. Soon he recovers and after an hour break we move on.
Steve’s canoe challenges Barney’s to a quiz contest with Rick’s acting a judge. At the last count Barney’s was winning by a 14-6 count. Captain Kangaroo?
We meet Dave Adams who has now been out for ten days. Dave tells us that it isn’t possible to complete the day’s journey over the rapids today, but we push on instead of camping with him for the night.
We keep seeing some very large fish in schools. We don’t know whether they are Pike, Pickerel (now called Walleye) or Carp. We think they are Carp. We find a hunter’s cabin at the base of the rapids, which by the way extended for six miles. We cook our dinner at a nearby rock. Steve occupies himself repairing his canoe with our signatures and formulating his special Rice pudding a la raison. In the distance we hear thunder literally making a “boom” sound. The adrenalin surges as we paddle towards the cabin to beat the storm. Rick’s canoe surfed down the river. When he tries he sure pulls water. Our fantastic cooperation just makes it for the rain hits just as we get in the cabin. The storm vented its fury with lightning, thunder and lots of rain. In the morning it appeared that the river was up a few inches. We got out our sleeping bags, first aid kit, lantern, candle and thought of Adams in our snug environment. Before retiring we play some euchre and a variety of card tricks are displayed.
Night of the Mouse – (see story)
We were almost asleep when some kind of yell woke us claiming that some mice were walking through his bed. Steve, who just happened to be sleeping on the floor near the mouse nest quickly relocated to the table top for protection. Once again we settled down when a mouse is discovered on the table top with Steve. After dispensing a ton of pepper we all get to sleep finally.
Day 8
This is our walkathon up the rapids day. This will extend for about 6 miles or so. The sky clears up and the sun comes out. This is very encouraging. We haven’t had a rainy day yet and to walk the rapids in rain would have been pure misery. As it turns out we covered the distance much faster than we had anticipated. As it is there are two sets of rapids separated by approximately two miles of paddling.
As we reach the beginning of the rapids (we are going upstream) where the portage into Dollars Lake is, thunder similar to the previous night starts moving our way very quickly. We complete the portage just as the thunder is overhead. However, it is moving so fat it passes over without dropping any moisture. We stop in at a lodge for sundries, freshie…The owner shows us on his map a portage which completely by passes the first and worst set of rapids. It is too bad we didn’t know this before as it would have saved a lot of time, effort and wear and tear on the canoes.
The sky is very dark now and the lake quite angry. Lightning in the distance forces us to take shelter. Fortunately, we find another hunter’s cabin (called the Beef Trust, I think) with wood stove…This is luxury. Two cabins in two nights of storms! Ted bakes a cake and Tom makes the chocolate pudding – yum-my. By our standards, just great!
The stove proves so warm that we must go for a swim to cool off. It’s just like a sauna. We are REALLY living it up!
In the morning John hears something in the kitchen and decides to let Barney investigate. As it turned out there was nothing to be found. Porridge, pancakes and we are off to Noganosh.
Day 9
We stop in at a lodge for freshie supplies. All we can buy is Tang – expensive but good. Smoky Creek turns out to be swamp which is quite contrary to what the Rogerson’s guide told us. Three portages, and one old car later we make it to Smoky Lake and Rogerson’s which is land marked by a “blond bomber.” We stop in at the lodge for pop and the cook gives us some freshly baked cookies. We eat our lunch on a nearby point. We decide there is no point in continuing to Noganosh as it is out of our way, so we camp near Orillia’s Red Tam Camp on a little peninsula. This is where we saw that “pet” turtle!
Day 10 Crow Lake
We have approximately eight miles to go today. So we sleep in to 10:00 am. From here on the tripping is going to be easy. We have covered the majority of out 200 mile trip. Everything goes without a hitch until we reach the Crow Lake portage. Scott, our Tripper for the Day, forgets to warn the others to ignore trap line #5. Hence we lose Steve, Daryl, John and Dave. This is one portage that doesn’t go as the crow flies. It winds for approximately two miles and is very difficult to follow. Basically, a trapper had made several traps lines that ran off the main portage. Each line was a circuit so if you followed a trap line you would return to the main portage line. The trick was to stay on the main line. When Steve realized that he was on the wrong trail he rested his canoe in the “V” of a tree only to discover a huge carpenter bee nest just above his canoe. Apparently, each of these bees comes armed with 6 stingers each. Steve was fortunate to escape without being once stung.
Tom, Scott and Barney return for the extra packs and to mark the trail for the others. On the way back we had difficulty sticking to the path ourselves. We discovered later that Adams couldn’t find the portage, so he bush crashed.
The Crow Lake campsite is fair, but definitely not as good or better than Sinclair as some have claimed. It had only one excellent tent spot. The fishing at dusk is very good just to the left of the little island, just off the campsite, during the day it is poor. In fact, we found a quiet pool and started to fish it after hearing a resounding splash – such as a jumping fish. We managed to get a strike and upon reeling in discovered a rather indignant bull frog of significant proportion on the end of the line. We took it back to camp so everyone would see, and thus believe, our story.
Tom, Daryl and Barney went fishing in one rather tippy canoe. John and Ted were in the other. Ted’s lures attracted nothing whilst Tom and Barney were pulling them in so fast that Daryl hardly got a chance to wet a line. Tom caught a pounder, then Barney a two pounder, and Tom a four pounder. Then Tom decided it was time to shift without warning and over we went. Barney in all the dry clothing that he possessed and away escaped our fish except for Tom’s big one that was still on the line.
Day 11 Day Off at Crow
We had a much appreciated sleep in. The campers wake us (staff) for breakfast. Pancakes are featured. After breakfast we go fishing and others such as Rick work on a lean-to in order to improve the campsite. We enjoy another beautiful day. Steve goes sunbathing. It reminds me of a canoe break during which he did a shoulder stand in his canoe while his canoeing partners steadied the craft. Is this really August?
Sardines for lunch and then we start baking a brownie mix, gingerbread, and make some applesauce. Fishing at night once again is productive as Ted and Daryl catch them.
Day 12
Daryl fries his fish for breakfast. We also have porridge and an omelette. We are going to Sinclair and Tom is Tripper for the Day. We have approximately 8 miles and four portages to cover. At the end of the third portage we had a sailing race to Sinclair Lake portage along the Magnetewan River, the only place that I have ever seen the rare Blue Pickerel. The Sinclair Lake portage up that steep hill is something else. Ted goes fishing and catches a four pounder (approximately.) Years later, when Jim Robinson and I were in the area we stopped for coffee with the guys at the hunt camp who seemed happy for the company and conversation.
Day 13
We rest today at Sinclair Lake. It is a beautiful campsite with several good tent sites. Swimming is refreshing right off a rock ledge by the site in the cool refreshing waters. Not many people have ever been here for it is not on the newer top maps. I have an older publication. It is very isolated. We haven’t seen a single person since day 10.
Our porridge runs out, but we have lots of pancakes, gingerbread, brownies (that we baked in a make shift oven using a small barrel covered with dirt for insulation). In fact the first brownies baked so fast they were slightly burned in 15 minutes. We baked a birthday cake – I forget whose birthday we celebrated – enjoyed applesauce…We took some time off for elementary educational rocketry. (?) Daryld, as Rick calls him, rushes off in a canoe to check his minnow trap – without a paddle!
Day 14
Now that we must leave two big bass appear off our swimming area and quickly engulf our sacrificial frogs that previously we had used as bait to no avail. While still attached to the fishing line, the bass were uninterested in our frogs. But once the frog was off the hook and thrown into the lake the fish attacked without hesitation. Did they see the fishing line?
We manage to paddle and portage 30 miles today, all the way to Naiscoot. We pull into our campsite in total darkness. As Tripper for the Day, Daryl managed to forget the maps twice in a row after a portage. We met some Buffalo Boy Scouts canoeing from Wawashkish to Georgian Bay via a Shell gasoline station road map. A remarkable achievement. We introduced them to top maps.
Note: We also met Tom Handford and his brother at the thriving Metropolis of South Magnetewan. Luckily, we didn’t miss them in the crowd. That was a popular place to stop for a refreshing drink from the spring near the railway tracks. There was even a free phone from which everyone could call home. Most unusual. John Wadlin’s (sp) grandfather used to live there. Jim Robinson had met the grandfather, a crusty sort, when tripping through there with John. Artists, authors used to apparently gather there with him in the summer. He apparently was a WW1 draft dodger. Word has it he used to write outdoor stories for magazines under a pseudonym. When I wrote for Outdoor Canada one of the writers lived in the area year round and was trying to collect all of his works to write a biography about him. I never heard any more but never forgot. Perhaps John can shed some light on this?
It was a beautiful star lit night but the ground was hard to sleep on.
Day 15
No paddling. We just pack up and patiently wait for Tom’s 11:00 am pickup. He arrives at noon.
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