Woke up with my arms numb. Turns out the tent pad wasn't as flat as I'd initially thought, and all the blood was in my upper body. Outside a duck quacked right next to the tent. I took that as my cue to get up. Fished a little right off the site, and caught a couple of smallmouth. One had some of the most handsome color I'd ever seen. We broke camp and set off toward Ogish. The portage from Jasper to Kingfisher is short and easy, with a wide sandy landing at each end. After a short paddle down Kingfisher we portaged to Ogish. I nearly lost the canoe at the top of the portage when the wind caught the bow and whipped it away from me. The put in from the portage was murder, at the top of a rapids into a howling wind. It was very tough going. Another group of young guys were paddling steady with us most of the way, and I was glad to see we were all struggling. The lake looked more like a river. With some difficulty we made it to the open section on the southwest end of the lake, only to find it boiling with whitecaps. I wasn't interested in capsizing, not to mention we were bone tired of fighting the wind. Canoe trips are supposed to be fun, right? The fire spared most of Ogish, with tree cover returning about a third of the way down the lake. The trees were in good shape from there west on our route. We made camp just before it started to pour rain again. Ate a little, hung the food pack. It was around that time, staring up into trees in the cold rain, with it running down my face and into the back of my jacket that I decided bear canisters would be an excellent investment. We called it a night.