Thursday, June 16, 2005

"Sucker Lake" - Noname Pond - Noname Lake - Williams Lake - Payne Lake - Noname Lake -Hurlburt Lake

This morning we lazily gathered our gear and packed the canoes for the long bushwhack that lay ahead. We paddled to the furthest east point of the lake and put on the packs for the first leg of the bushwhack which I volunteered to orienteer. We headed due south along a ridge through some bouldery ground till the compass pointed to a dried up pond. When we climbed down from the ridge and onto the pond we found it wasn't dry at all, a floating mass of marsh lay before us. It wasn't long before we all realized that, thick brush or not, the high ground was much easier to walk on than this stuff. Each footstep, for me in the lead, sunk up to my knee in water and wet moss. For the guy in the back of the line the steps were a bit deeper. Once to the other side of this "dried up" pond I headed the gang back onto the ridge and followed it south till we hit the first noname pond. We took a short break here above the water then made our way down a cliff onto the pond. While sitting in the canoe and rehydrating I decided that following the stream south wasn't the best idea and hanging to the higher ground was.
I again led the charge on the next leg of the adventure trying to follow the ridge to the southeast. At times the walking was easy but once in a while the elevation would drop and we would be stuck in a thick forest of pines. It was easy enough to walk through but to pick a line for the guy with the canoe was a different story. Soon my orienteering would sway from due southeast to a little south, then to compensate, I would spend some time heading more east than south slowly working my way around obstacles such as the thick pines, some uninviting looking marsh, and some cliffs the canoe guys would surely hate me for. I crossed the stream I was using as a marker but wasn't sure where. The map indicated a body of water but where we hit it was another "dried up" pond. "Was that the pond?", "Surely this is the stream, it's heading in the right direction". It was those uncertainties that could get an orienteer to second-guess himself. "TRUST THE COMPASE" echoed through my head, so I did and continued on my intended rout. From the stream crossing we again hit higher ground and easier travel. I made my way through the woods taking the occasional break, keeping on track, but again, started to question myself. "We should be close now", "Over that ridge there and I should be able to see water".  When I reached the next ridge, it dropped down a cliff to a damp valley shortly and back up to another ridge. I almost started to panic. I couldn't let the others see this. I knew from the map that due east would get me some sign or marker. There is a stream that heads due north off the point of the lake I was aiming for. If I wasn't far enough south, I would surely hit the stream so I changed my direction of travel slightly more east. At the crest of the next hill, relief filled my soul as I saw the sparkle of blue water in the trees below me at the portion of the lake I was aiming for. Also below me was quite a drop off that we had to contend with first. At one point I would switch back and fourth slowly inching my way down to the lake but soon, saw the light. It wasn't a matter of me getting down, it was a matter of getting the canoe guys down, so I climbed down and we slid the canoe down over the brush all the way to the lake. (Keep in mind this was a controlled slide with one guy at the front and one at the rear).
On the lake, which again had the rocky shoreline but much darker water, we took a long lunch break in the hot sun. We made water and drank lots of it. We were all good and exhausted and not looking forward to the next and final leg of the bushwhack. The rookie insisted that someone else take the orienteering to give his canoe carrying shoulder a rest and Mike was glad to volunteer. After the rest, we picked up the canoes and headed west toward the northern most point of Williams Lake. He stayed south of the streambed to keep us on higher ground but what an agonizing trip it was up a huge hill. At or near the top Greg said "There’s a dead moose, died of a heart attack from climbing that hill." I was too tired to even get it. With the canoe over my head this section I couldn't make many observations only that at times, I wasn't really walking, just tripping and stumbling along trying to not fall over but still making progress in the forward direction. The only real relieve I got was when I too could see the water through the trees indicating the approach to Williams Lake.
Once on Williams Lake we began a leisurely paddle dragging lures toward our next destination, which were the pictographs on Payne Lake. Williams Lake had beautiful rock cliffs on its sides, which I always have to get up close to and check out. Who knows when you'll stumble across a pictographs that's not on the maps or even better yet, not on anyone’s map. (I'm still looking). At a narrow section on the lake was when the first fish was caught. The other Brian added a Lake trout to the menu for dinner. The pass/portage down to Payne Lake was open enough to paddle so we didn't have to get out of the canoes. On Payne Lake I made a B-line for the point on the map that the pictograph was indicated on but soon on the way there I saw where it most likely was. A huge rock cliff on the other side of the narrows from the indicated pictograph site seemed a more appropriate place and it was. We found three sets of drawings on the rocks there, the first a triangle with added lines, the second a pair of animals?, and the third was a thunderbird or turtle. The pictographs here a in pretty good condition and worth the stop for passers by. When the others arrived we found out there were more Lakers for dinner. 
At this point all of the crew was tired and moral was running low. Finding a camp seemed to be the priority but some times we have a hard time agreeing on the site. While one group picked one site the other pushed south refusing to stop there. I was swayed to follow the crew south and the others were soon to follow. 
Again, the party picked up a couple lakers. I couldn't catch a fish this day to save my life but there was enough fish caught to feed us all. My memory of the next couple portages is a little hazy as I was exhausted from the bushwhack also. I'm not sure if we were able to paddle through or if we had to portage again before we hit Hurlburt Lake. On Hurlburt we began searching for a campsite and soon found one on the west shore on a point about halfway down the lake. Camp was setup, water filtered, dinner was eaten and we went to bed. This was the third, and last day we, we would not see another person.