I was confidant I could paddle into the wind and waves, IF I could get the canoe launched into the waves pounding the beach. I positioned the canoe in a way that I could load some gear, pull the front end into the surf, load some more gear, then walk the canoe out, get in and paddle like crazy. It worked, and I only took on a small amount of water in the process. I had some dicey paddling at first, with some waves splashing in, but by paddling as hard as I could I got out to where it was easier. By this time however, my arms were turning to pudding and before I reached the mouth of the “Quetico River” channel my left arm muscles ached and were almost useless. Once in calmer water though it was laid back paddling until shortly before the Beaverhouse portage where a little breeze was waiting.

By this time – around 2:30 p.m. – it was a sunny beautiful afternoon with puffy white clouds scooting across the sky and the morning rain was all but forgotten. I saw two more mergansers (what else?) before landing at the take-out and breathing another sigh of relief and unloading my gear. I was negotiating the muddy step-down near the Beaverhouse put-in with my first load when I noticed a tandem canoe with two men paddling up the strong riffle. They landed and we exchanged a few words. I went back for my second load but stopped to take a photo of the old dam. When I was halfway across with my second load one of the men and I passed on the trail. I got to thinking and realized it had been Day 1 of my June trip with Joe since that had happened. (About 13 total days in the park)

I asked the other man if he knew the weather forecast and if either of the two nearby campsites were open. He said that the weather forecast was good and the sites were both open. Yes! He also suggested fishing below the falls here later this evening. (I had planned to.) I thanked him and wished him a good trip. I loaded up and paddled out into Beaverhouse and made for the site (PCD #372) on the point that Old Hoosier had told me about last year. After finding the nice pebble-beach landing I unloaded the Tranquility, and pulled it ashore. Then I stripped to just my shorts and had a nice soak sitting chin-deep in the crystal clear water!

By 6 p.m. I was all settled in here and had a gallon of water purified. I also had the tent up on some nice soft grass with a clear view to the west. (This site had several tent options, including back in the woods, but it was almost clear now, so I was thinking stargazing tonight!) With some gear and clothes drying on a line and the tarp up (jury-rigged again) I was ready for some supper. After another MH beef stroganoff meal and squaring a few things away that I wouldn’t want to do later I paddled back to the flow-in from Quetico to fish.

I assume that when folks suggest fishing the flow-in they mean the “upper” pool below the falls, which is “out of the way” if you are portaging in or out, so I meant to fish there. First I had to paddle the (empty) Tranquility up the fast riffle, and I almost got swept to the side and could have capsized, but somehow managed to make it. (Am I getting old and feeble, or what?) I must have fished below the falls, in and out of the faster water, along the sides in eddies, for an hour with no luck. Nada! This was supposed to be a smallmouth spot, I’d been told, but not tonight. Finally, tired of hassling with the current and control of the canoe, I “ran” the rapids and tried below it.

Same results – nothing. I decided to rig a frog Pop-R and try topwater. Nothing. Then a fish boiled the surface nearby (behind me) not far from a weedy area. Probably a pike, I thought. I threw the Pop-R to the spot; it hit the water and was gone in a second with a huge swirl and splash. After a short fight I had a 25” pike thrashing alongside the canoe. Somehow it lurched and the whole lure came all the way out through its gills with the top treble still inside the gills! Darn. I had no tool with me and did not want to loose that lure to that pike, so I cut the braid with my clippers and then yanked the treble out. He died.

I was a little paranoid about the fish smell, so I cleaned up the best I could before paddling back to camp. I tried a few casts on the way back, but nothing was biting, except right near camp when I had a couple of hits but could not hook up. When I landed, I washed up with soap and hand sanitizer and carried the canoe well back in the woods away from my tent. I enjoyed my nightly cigar and drink while watching the horizon glowing pink, thinking “red sky at night, sailor’s delight.” There were only a few bugs and I hit the tent around 9:30 with some stars out and a sliver of a moon – waxing crescent – rising. What a day! (Barometer 29.87/rising; temperature 23C./74F. in the tent.)

Day 8: I slept very poorly last night. First there were the stars – I didn’t want to go to sleep and lay awake or dozing until after midnight. Each time I’d open look out through the tent mesh it was as if it was a little darker and there were a thousand more stars. Then when I did sleep, some strange noise (was that the canoe?) woke me. And I could not get comfortable on my double pads with aches and pains in both shoulders. When I got up at around seven it was very calm and there was a gray haze all around. I was sure it would burn off later, and it did. Barometer: 29.98/rising; temperature: 17C./63F. (One of the “cooler” mornings.)

Had some hot tea and the last of my oatmeal with powdered milk and some trail mix added. There were two small smallmouth hanging by the rocks just off shore. I fished a little from shore then decided to pack up before the sun got higher and fish on my way out of Beaverhouse. Taking my time packing, not really wanting to leave, I got going around 10 a.m. In the meantime, I saw a solo canoe and another party heading for the portage, presumably having come from the ranger station. As I paddled out, a gull landed on a rock “island” close by as if to watch my departure.

Beaverhouse was looking her best – possibly the best I’d ever seen her – with a clear blue-sky overhead. I could see the bottom clearly in depths I guessed to be 8-10 feet, but wondered if BH wasn’t darker (more stained) than Quetico Lake. I fished off the first point past my camp with no luck then spotted what looked like a campsite back in a shallow sandy bay. I paddled over to the beach, wondering if I would go aground before getting there. I did not. Looked this site over (it would be okay for a night) and made a note to check the PCD when I got home. (The PCD shows NO site there. It DOES show a site – #2J – on a small island nearby, and I saw no sign of one there.)

Leaving the shallows and sand behind I decided to head out for deeper water and then make for the far rocky point marking the turn north for my take-out. Before long I spotted a pair of loons ahead and they seemed to ignore me. I thought I could paddle-drift-paddle and get close enough for a photo, but I soon saw a baby loon and then one of the adults began swimming away to the left – certainly a diversion tactic – and I decided I should not get closer. As I was turning to the right to give them some room, I spotted a second baby loon. My first time seeing baby loons!

As I was paddling towards my point I saw a pair of canoes – one solo, one tandem -- that apparently had just come from the put-in and were heading for the ranger station or the portage. Reaching my point and needing a break, I stopped paddling and had some trail mix and water. At this point I was half expecting a north breeze as I had last year’s solo, but no, it was almost glassy with just a stirring breeze now and then. I paddled north, and then headed for the western shore on this final leg, since I had never paddled that side before. I fished a few spots since the breeze was not a problem – nothing. Nearing the shallows before the creek mouth I noticed a fishy looking spot on the other shore – nothing again.

I took some final photos entering the creek mouth – really not wanting this trip to end – and up the creek nearing the take-out. The water seemed a little higher than it had been last week. The First Nation had a couple of boats stashed near the landing. I beached the Tranquility and stepped out. It was getting pretty warm and now I was anxious to get my gear portaged and loaded before it got really hot. After getting my gear out of the way, I started for the parking lot with my first load. Not far up the trail I saw a woman headed my way pushing a load in the yellow wheelbarrow I’d seen stashed here last week. We passed and said a few words. I assumed she was First Nation.

It turned out that she and her husband, who was moving their vehicle and showed up a few minutes later, were from Sault Ste Marie, Canada, and were heading in for eight days, I think. We had a nice talk and they mentioned their trip plan and I showed them a couple of things on the map. They were talking about visiting the Quetico pictographs, then heading down to Jean Lake and looping back up through Badwater. I asked them what time it was and found out it was noon. It was time to get moving. I wished them a good trip and headed up the trail with the canoe and loose gear.

There were twenty-three other vehicles in the parking lot. Wow! After getting my gear loaded and the canoe tied down on top, I found a still-cool bottle of sports drink in my cooler and chugged it down before heading up the road. On the way out, I encountered a truck coming the other way on this one-lane bush road – a first for me. We each slowed down and each put two wheels in the weeds to get by. I stopped at the intersection of Highway 11 to check the canoe rigging, then headed east for Atikokan.

Shane was just pulling out when I arrived and he stopped to talk, and the hot topic was the weather. He was heading out to the lake for a swim; I was headed for a shower. I let Graeme know I was back and he unloaded the canoe and got me a towel. The shower facility was packed – another first – and I quickly showered and dressed in clean clothes, bought a couple souvenirs and headed for the Outdoorsman. I departed from my traditional bacon cheeseburger and had the “Hungry Man Breakfast” since I hadn’t had any breakfasts other than cereal on this trip. It really hit the spot. Then I hit the road for home.

Final thoughts: Kind of a tale of two extremes – lots of traffic in one area, solitude in another – neither far from the parking lot. Weather was excellent except for the heat. Keeping hydrated was a chore; I’m glad I took the Katadyn base camp filter. In spite of the heat and back spasms/pain I had a great time. The fishing – not my highest priority – was fairly good. Bugs were not an issue, just an occasional annoyance. The Souris River Tranquility solo is the best – empty/full, wind/no wind – no matter what. I learned a few more things about solo packing and getting lighter without sacrificing comfort. (My total gear weight was around 70# plus the canoe.) I enjoyed the northern area in spite of the traffic. I loved the solitude of West Bay, the morning in Sly Creek, and the fishing hole I found. I hope to revisit that area again!