Monday, June 03, 2013 This is the day that killed the idea of making Kawnipi. It was my fault entirely as leader of the group because I allowed us to get into a situation that I should have forseen. Maybe you can learn from this. We broke camp in a leisurely fashion with the intention of getting as far toward McKenzie Bay as possible but thinking we should make Kaw for sure. We even broke out the poles and set up to do some trolling along the way. Don and I were loaded first and Sam and Tim were loading after us because there was no room to load both boats simultaneously. While Sam and Tim were loading, Don and I set out slowly trolling east between our island and another much larger island to our south. We went at a slow pace, fully expecting that Sam and Tim would overtake us at some point but when we reached Chatterton Falls they still were not in sight so we went up as near the falls as we could and fished the current which extended well out from the falls. No luck after about thirty minutes and no Sam and Tim. Where are they? We fished some more and then I had a dark thought that they encountered trouble. Maybe someone fell while loading. Maybe they got a fish on and in the process of landing it tipped their canoe. Maybe they turned the wrong way (Sam had a map set and GPS but…who knows). Maybe they went around the other side of the island and it is simply a longer route. Fifteen minutes later, we are thinking we should go back to check. But which way do we go back? We should go back the way we came because they saw us leave that way. They would follow us right? So back we go. Fishing is no longer a good idea so we hustle back about a mile plus to the campsite. Nobody. So now what? We are certain now that they took the other way around the island but which way do we go back to the falls? The way that they took? What if they got to the falls, did not see us and started backtracking our route? This is a mess! We decide to backtrack our own route and trust that if they get to the falls they will stay there or come back on our route looking for us. So back a mile plus to the falls. Nobody. There are two portage trails to Chatterton Lake (the next lake) shown on the map. One goes up along the falls and another (the best one) exits the lake one bay south of the falls. We cannot see their canoe up near the falls and I am certain that I had discussed this the prior evening with Sam, so Don and I go around the point to the south portage to look for them. No canoe. Now we ask, would they leave the lake without us? Would they think that we would leave the lake without them? Don and I decide to check the portage trail and I am certain that only one person has been through recently and that from the other direction, but we walk the entire portage just to be certain. No one. So back we head to Russell Lake and I note that the sun is now directly overhead. Frustration, embarrassment and a bit of concern might describe my emotions. Don was praying aloud while we walked. As we descend the final hill to Russell, guess who is unloading at the landing? I wasn’t sure if I wanted to kiss those guys on the lips or push them into the water, so I just told them that we were glad to see them. They had taken the other way to the falls (prefered on GPS) and, not seeing us, scouted the portage to Chatterton shown next to the falls. It was impassable so they came south. A further irony in this is that Barry Giles had told us on the way to the EP, that a group the prior week had split with the idea of reuniting on Kawnipi. Once on Kawnipi they could not find each other and one canoe had the food and the other the tent. Which would you rather have? I thought, gee, that was dumb.

By the time we got to the portage from Chatterton to Keats we were tired and hungry so we stopped at the landing on Chatterton to have a late lunch. Split Rock Falls was split rock roaring and we had to push a bit to even make the landing. While Don and Tim got lunch ready, Sam and I walked the portage to Keats. What we found at the put-in was discouraging. The current was wicked at the top of the falls and the margin for error slim. Because of the extreme high water and a downed tree that we would have to get around as we left the landing, we decided that the risk was not worth the benefit. I was not fond of the idea of explaining to anyone’s widow, why we had to put into that current so close to the falls and how the tree sticking out made things a bit tricky. “But you know…we had a goal to reach.” Instead of having that conversation, we camped at the base of Split Rock and spent two days fishing and enjoying that spot. Awesome fun. Well, not the stupid part.