Quetico September 2009
by Ho Ho
I got out of the tent around 6:30 to a hazy morning on Emerald Lake -
Coffee brewing in the Java Press -
The rising sun lit up the clouds to the west -
Crows and ravens were being very vocal this morning, while a loon made some weird barking sounds. We absorbed it all from the rock perch of our island -
Take that, Jackson Pollack -
The shoreline of Emerald shows signs of old fires and the 1999 blowdown -
We broke camp and went for a swim. As we got ready to go, the air became very still -
We did not have a definite plan for today. To start we would portage into Carp Lake. But then we had the rest of the day to explore. We had given some thought to making a loop through the small mammal chain (Beaver, Fisher, Mink, Marten) to Knife, then back to Carp either via Crawford or Seed - visiting Dorothy Molter's place along the way. But now that seemed too ambitious after a few longer days, so we settled on the idea of just crossing for lunch from Carp into Crawford (where we had never been), then back to Carp to find a campsite for our last night out.
We left our Emerald camp about 10:40 and paddled over toward an island where we had seen an eagle perching -
Gotcha -
Escape -
Continuing on, we flushed a great blue heron as we glided through the narrow west end of Emerald toward the portage to Carp. Looking back from the portage -
This was a well-trodden portage compared to the others we had recently traveled, with a few patches of muck and slippery rocks thrown in for good measure. It's noticeably downhill to Carp. Here David is taking a last look at the Emerald end when we returned for our second load of gear -
At the Carp end, the portage landing is in a very shallow bay or pond -
Cliffs loom over the bay to the east near the portage -
As we paddled through this bay a grouse was drumming back in the woods. Didn't it know it was a warm sunny September day? As the echo from the grouse faded, we came to a low beaver dam separating the bay from the main part of Carp Lake and lifted over. Below the dam the lake was very shallow and mucky. Looking back -
Soon we passed into the deeper waters of the main part of Carp. Tiny green algae were suspended and sparkling in the water all throughout this area, perhaps the result of a series of warm, dry, late- summer days. We arced north of the large island in Carp to vary our route from the way we paddled in a week earlier, even though it was a bit of a detour from our planned route to Crawford Lake. Entering the channel between the island and the north shore of Carp-
As we got to the west end of the island channel, we could hear rapids or falls just ahead. We thought it must be the outlet from Sheridan Lake and paddled over there to check it out before continuing on our planned route to Crawford. This is the shoreline of Carp in that vicinity -
When we got to the outlet, we realized our destiny for this day was to explore the portage to Sheridan Lake and spend some time exploring Sheridan too, saving Crawford Lake for a future trip. The Sheridan Lake outlet tumbles down toward Carp -
We had rushed through here on the first day of our 2003 trip, and were glad we paused to enjoy the spot today -
We made a little video. To view it, click on the thumbnail below, and select full screen if you like. Don't forget the sound. When you are done, hit "back" to return to the report -
I had marked my map with a possible campsite on Sheridan at the entry to its long western arm. It's away from the main route between Carp and That Man, so we thought it would be a good place to head for lunch. But after crossing the portage we saw some canoes over by that site. (More people! The affrontery!) So we altered our concept and went to have lunch at the "red dot" campsite that lies in the direction of the portage to That Man.
We had just zipped past here in 2003 so this was our chance to explore. This campsite is fairly vertical, going up an open granite slope from the water's edge to tent sites high on the ridge. I think if you were adventurous you could find a bushwhack route from the site to one of the nearby small lakes north of Carp. But we decided on a less adventurous luxury, which was getting out the stove and making a post-lunch pot of very strong coffee. The java stand is open -
We lazed around a while longer before packing up and getting ready to go. As we were loading up the canoe, a colorful bug landed on David's leg. Probably one of those dry skin eating flies -
We paddled away and paused to look back at our lunch site -
Cliffs on the north side of Sheridan -
We still wanted to explore the west arm of Sheridan, but the other guys had not budged and we didn't want to disrupt their little corner of the Quetico. Plus, a squall blew up out of nowhere a few minutes after we got back on the water, so we decided to return to the portage to Carp. When we got to the portage the rain stopped as quickly as it started, and we lingered for a bit taking the pictures and video of the outlet shown above. While we were there, the other group who had been on Sheridan also returned to the portage. It was four guys who were basecamping on Carp. Those were the only people we saw this day, and this was the last we saw of them.
Now it was time to find a campsite. We arced southwestward on Carp, passing our wonderful campsite from the first night of this trip. Continuing through the narrows, we made a pit stop at another site where a group had been basecamped when we passed through on the first day. It was not the greatest site, and we pressed on, looping up into the northwest bay toward an island that looked promising. Yep, very promising. We would call this island home for our last night out. We got there about 3:30 or 4:00, went for a refreshing swim, and set up camp -
The point of our island looked toward a marshy bay where we hoped we might see some moose later on -
There were also some "improvements" at this campsite. In the camping area there was a bar for hanging food packs tied between two trees, which we made use of. And this little ladder was on a small trail a hundred feet or so from the tent area, with a nearby cross-bar tied between trees about 6 feet up. That bar was well within reach of any bear, so it was not too clear what it or the ladder were for -
I've read there was a Quetico ranger patrol cabin on Carp at one time, and after our trip I wondered if it was on this island. The campsite definitely had the feel of a place that someone had called home. It kind of had a spooky feel to me. But that didn't stop me from enjoying lazing away the rest of the afternoon, or scanning through the binoculars for moose in the back bay from the north side of the island -
Across the open part of the lake to the south were survivors of a big storm, which I assume was the July 4, 1999, blowdown -
After dinner we paddled down to the western end of the big bay our island lay in. This area had a very remote feel, belying the fact that we were now just a few hours' paddle back to our car. It seemed like a moose would swim in front of us or crash through the marshy edges of the lake at any moment, but no such luck. A skein of geese flew over, then it was quiet and still as the soft pastel colors of twilight filled the sky while we paddled back to our campsite -
A snapper was just under the surface when we landed in the shallow bay of our camp. Then as we tied the canoe down for the night, a toad ran right into it with a thud. He sat there stunned for quite a while, but he was gone in the morning (perhaps not of his own volition).
Somewhat counterintuitively, as it got dark back at camp, the "spooky" feeling I'd had before went away. We went out to an east-facing rocky point with the last of our Maker's Mark supply. The scattered evening clouds cleared almost as soon as we sat down with our bourbon, and we were treated to the most spectacular stars of our trip. We leaned back and absorbed the stars and the silence, which was broken by a beaver slapping his tail in the bay to our east, and then the raucous sound of another skein of geese flying over high in the dark night sky (with a lone goose following several minutes behind). Then we noticed something moving on our rocky outcrop. It was another toad trying to get by - we seemed to be blocking its way. Later we heard a metallic whistling from the treetops on our island and over on the mainland, a call we did not recognize, and wondered if it was flock of migrant birds landing for the night on their way south.
We got in the tent sometime after 9:00 and read for a while, with lights out after 10:00. Sometime after midnight I got out of the tent, and almost stepped on another toad. Those boys need to be more careful where they stand.