This day started early. Paddling to the north end of Robinson Lake, the intrepid paddlers quickly found the mouth of McIntyre creek and began to thread our way through trees, deadfalls and undergrowth, slowly making our way up and back blocked channels… not an easy task with loaded 18.5' canoes.

Bryan eventually found the main channel and we lifted over the first of many, many obstacles. Once past the initial sweepers, we indeed found the main stream, a very strong current nearly waist deep blasting its way south between steeply cut banks with the dark canyon like walls echoing the sound.

Mark quickly assessed the situation and leapt waist deep into the icy stream, pulling a loaded canoe behind him while the others logically tried not to get soaked. "It's not that cold" he shouted of the 41 degree rushing water. “and we’re losing valuable fishing time.”

Every sweeper and fallen tree presented a unique challenge and puzzle to be solved. Fording the stream at any point was a very tricky proposition. Keeping your footing on smooth slippery rocks with 3-4 foot deep icy spring currents working to sweep your feet away, combined with occasional pockets of fine tumbled river sand that tried to suck the boots off your feet is no simple task.

No shortage of bushwhacking adventures here.

Based on Bryan's input and experience, most of the crew had decided the Chota Brookies teamed with the Chota Trekkers, were the footwear of choice for this trip. This setup has a waterproof sock comes up to the knee… and they were certain of only two things; wet portages and icy water. The Brookies kept their feet dry… until they went in over the tops. Even then it seems they insulate the water inside and heat it to roughly body temperature quickly. By most estimates they are a definite plus. Dave, on the other hand, wore the NRS Storm Boot; a quick draining paddling/portage boot with lots of support and protection from rocks. He is of the opinion that no matter what, your feet will get wet, so just make sure you have good support, traction, protection and drainage. Apparently, 40 degree water didn’t concern him the least.

Moving past blowdowns, sweepers and rapids, Bryan reconnoitered ahead on a streamside game trail which showed occasional evidence that other human fools… many years (or decades) before… had come through on this route. Ahead there was a huge beaver dam… with an enormous unmelted ice and snow field still nestled high into the ravine high above. Beyond that, Bryan could see another beaver pond… and perhaps light at the end of the tunnel… a drier portage/game trail.

Everyone was enthused to be portaging “normally” again when we heard the report. We soon reached the pond and reloaded the canoes, paddling north again amidst the awakening forests. This placid pond was terminated by still another beaver dam; an absolute engineering marvel with a large sluiceway in the center.

The Souris Rivers were pulled over fully loaded, requiring all four men to lift them over to prevent damage.

The ordeal was finally over and the canoes and crew got to McIntyre Lake more or less unscathed. With visions of the huge Walleye on Conmee Lake, the apex of this new route, Mark urged the others on. It was almost 1:00 PM and we haven’t cast a lure much to Marks chagrin. McIntyre Lake disappeared into history. We were making up for lost time spent on this 'shortcut'.

Brent Lake looked interesting though. We decided to find a camp and explore. Pete just wanted to set up camp and start some coffee. The others went fishing. Mark and Dave got some strikes and landed a few Lakers and walleyes. Again nothing spectacular, unless you count the huge pike that tried to yank one of Dave’s Lakers off the stringer. “Tomorrow we strike camp early and paddle into the Promised Land” Pete declared. Mark opined that thus far this trip had to darn little fishing time.
10 miles, one hellacious bushwhack and 2 portages (4, 18)