A cool, no, cold wind was blowing when we woke up. We packed up camp fairly quietly, knowing that our trip was nearly over. We got through the lower Maligne with no problems, hit the bug-infested portage around Twin Falls, and then paddled to Bell Island, where our driver (Mark’s son Brandon) was right on time. We loaded up our gear and went to a spot where we were picking up the same couple that we shared a ride in with. There was no sign of them there, and we proceeded to wait an hour past their intended pickup time, before Brandon was given permission to take us in without them. The delay put us a bit behind schedule, and we got through the mechanical portages and customs with no further issues. The day was cold and breezy as we loaded up.

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This turned out to be a trip of contrasts: some great weather and great fishing for the first half, followed by a rough trip up the Maligne and one of the worst storms we’ve ever been out in. It reminds you of that when you are out in the elements, you really are at the mercy of whatever nature throws at you.