When I learned that WCPP staff had cleared much of the western edge of the park in 2023 I knew that I had to take advantage and plan a trip there sooner than later. With all the wildfire activity in the park, portage trails don’t stay open for long. It’s been 20 years since I last canoed out of Wallace Lake on an adventure through Bulging Lake and the Haggart River in 2004. There were a few years in the early 2000’s where we used Wallace Lake to access the Gammon River through Carroll Lake towards Aikens Lake, utilizing the infamous 5,000 meter Obukowin or “Stone Man” portages.
(Video of the trip on YouTube if you're interested.)
I have a love/hate relationship with Wallace Lake. In my previous 4 visits there, I have almost always had issues with wind and waves, including a trip where it was so violently gusty that we had to change our plans and ended up on a much shortened trip in nearby Nopiming Park. I also found myself with mixed feelings on the Wanipigow River, remembering some challenges, including a long twisting creek to Siderock Lake and shallow sections to WCPP and Crystal Lake. Because the route starts outside WCPP, there is no guarantee on the levels of portage maintenance to the park boundary. My go-to resource for up-to-date information on portages and campsites wasn’t of much help due to a lack of recent (any?!) updates on PaddlePlanner for the Manitoba section of our route.
Day 0 - The Drive
After months of dreaming, scheming and packing it was finally time to hit the road on Thursday, June 6th 2024. Instead of driving 1900 kilometers from Calgary, Alberta to Red Lake, Ontario, this trip would be less driving than the last few trips to WCPP have been. We spent a very windy first day driving 1400 kilometers through Alberta and Saskatchewan, to the town of Selkirk, Manitoba. Gusts were so strong as we drove across the prairies that I thought my carbon canoe might snap in half. We ate a great supper at Boston Pizza before retiring to our hotel for the night. After being brutally sick the week before leaving on the trip, I was happy that I could eat supper and build some energy reserves before starting the long days of paddling and portaging that lay ahead. As usual, we were too full of nervous energy to get a good sleep and it seemed like more of a nap before my alarm went off at 04:30. From Selkirk we still had to drive 225 kilometers to Wallace Lake. The drive up hwy 304 started out on pavement before deteriorating after the small hamlet of Manigotagan into a wide, hard pack dirt road. Not much had changed since my last ride over hwy 304. Sections were so rough I had to slow from 70 kph to 5 or risk breaking my truck. The tiny town of Bissett also hadn’t changed much. The last time I’d been there was in 2012 when my dad, brothers and I flew to Family Lake for a fishing trip from the Bissett aerodrome. From Bissett we drove a bit further before finally turning one last time, down a narrow, winding road leading to Wallace Lake. The lake glimmered and shone in warm summer morning air as we drove to the dock and beach area. There were many permanent trailers set up amongst the dense trees near the lake, giving this spot a nomadic feel. This is not a beautifully maintained campground but rather a place for folks to escape the neat gardens and perfectly maintained lawns back in the cities to the south. Even the large cabins that dot the shoreline of Wallace Lake have a northern feel to them – they are beautiful of course, but also reflect the reality of a harsh climate and very short summer season. Filled with excitement we offloaded the gear onto one of two small docks jutting into the water. As I made the short walk from the backcountry parking area I meditated on how lucky I was to be sharing this experience with my daughter. One last glance over the gear and we shuffled into my Souris River Quetico, “black beauty”. Our adventure was officially underway!
Day 1 - Friday, June 7 2024 – Wallace Lake to Crystal Lake (24 kms, 9 portages)
Our trip started about as good as these things can. We paddled away from the dock on calm water before a summer breeze caught hold of our boat and blew us towards the Wanipigow River entering the NE shore of Wallace Lake. There is an option to portage 1243 meters between the east end of Wallace towards Siderock Lake but we wanted to start the trip with more paddling and less walking. Being early season, I surmised that there should be plenty of water in the river and indeed, there was. Motor boats regularly travel between Wallace and Siderock via the Wanipigow so other than slightly more distance I saw very little reason to avoid the paddle. It didn’t take long and we were off the breezy lake in the calm of the river, surrounded by chirping birds and turtles and ducks hiding in the thick growth along the shores. The river started out with lots of twists and turns but as we approached Siderock Lake it straightened and grew much wider. A hilarious mix up at a warning sign indicating “ROCK” almost had us beach the canoe on a shallow rock shelf, but we figured out the correct side eventually. (The sign has an arrow pointing where you should go, not where the rock is located.) Siderock Lake was much larger than I remembered. I always recall Wallace Lake being the one with problematic waves, but Siderock is plenty large enough to pose its own similar issues. Thankfully we were with the wind and had no problems paddling the length of the lake to a weedy bay leading further up a much smaller Wanipigow River than the one we’d exited an or so hour earlier. Here we spotted the first of many moose on the trip, feeding in the weedy shallows. It felt incredible to be back on the water again. I spent many hours at my desk back in the concrete jungles of Calgary, dreaming about moments like this. Clouds drifted overhead and drops of cool water settled on my hands as muscles tightened and relaxed with each deep, purposeful stroke of my Badger Tripper. My soul started to fill again – the reason for all the planning, driving and expenses becoming clear with the song of the paddle. The nice thing about taking the Wanipigow River from Wallace to Siderock Lake (rather than the long portage) is that you get a long paddle right from the parking lot. The not-so-great thing about it, is that when you haven’t been in a canoe for over a year, a long paddle without a stretch stiffens the body. I’ve been having issues with my lower back over the past few years, and by the time we finally navigated to the first portage it was murmuring some discontent. As I heaved the first heavy food barrel onto my shoulders I felt a familiar “twinge” in my lower back and immediately knew that I had just pulled something that doesn’t appreciate being pulled. Dang it! It was a little depressing to realize that despite my back feeling fine before the trip, I was now going to have to deal with it again. In 2023 I did a two-week trip with a very busted back, so I knew I could make things work but just as then, I would have to rely on my canoe partner to carry the food barrels. It’s not the weight that hurts to carry the food barrels, it’s the way the rounded edge presses into my lower back that’s the issue. Thankfully KC adjusted to the carry and soon we were following the first portage trail up the Wanipigow to a still-distant WCPP. The first portage was short (~75m) and pleasant on a good trail. A great start faded quickly behind us as we navigated the next 120 meter portage. Due to high water on the river, finding some of the portages was tricky. Over the years the routes have changed, confusing things. In this case we ended up too far upstream and found ourselves on an old section of “trail” that was knee deep muck. Oof. There’s always a moment early in a trip that reminds you why this isn’t a Sunday afternoon paddle with aunt Edna. This is serious backcountry travel and needs to be respected as such. We laughed at ourselves before pulling the boat and gear through the bog and wrapping up the first of many challenging carries. After crossing a small lake we continued upriver, navigating another manky, mucky, smelly portage (~56m) before tackling the last carry (~182m) before entering into the province of Ontario and WCPP. This portage was much better on return, when we found the correct downstream start. We weren’t quite into tripping mode on our way upriver and once again made things harder than they needed to be by paddling too far upstream to start the carry. Oh well. We made it to the end eventually! It was around 16:00 as we finally crossed into Ontario and encountered our first recently maintained portage. The river was now much smaller than downstream and walking the short 57 meters was very welcome. The first day is always extra challenging due to rusty bodies and heavy food barrels. The next 48 meter portage was also maintained – a good sign for the remainder of our trip. Thunderheads were building over the two tiny humans far below, as we continued what was now feeling like a bit of a slog up the never-ending Wanipigow. Thankfully the portage trails continued to be recently maintained through the burnt landscape. After another short (50m) detour we finally found ourselves at the final carry into Crystal Lake. Of course it also had to be by far the longest portage of the day at over 310 meters. As the Wanipigow River leaves Crystal Lake it narrows into a very scenic channel which must be detoured on river right (RR). Finally, as afternoon transitioned to evening we paddled past a sign welcoming us to Woodland Caribou Provincial Park. Spotting 4 white swans bobbing in the back of a small bay seemed like a good omen as we entered Crystal Lake. Thankfully we got very lucky and ended up finding a site almost right at the entrance to the Wanipigow (site “BW” on PaddlePlanner). On hindsight I wish I’d looked for a nearby site that we stayed on in 2004 (“BY”) that looked unburned on my 2024 photos but I didn’t realize where it was until I got home from the trip. Thunder continued to rumble just south of our position as we set up our first camp of the trip. Crystal Lake has been torched like most of WCPP but our site had some standing (live) trees that came in handy for a tarp. I managed to clear a perfect tent pad on top of some hard Canadian Shield and we settled into familiar camp routines. KC blew up the sleeping pads and set up the sleeping gear in the tent while I hung the hammock, tarp and boiled water for supper. She set up the camp chairs while I started a cozy little fire and we watched a pair of eagles soar above, next to the towering thunder clouds that were clearly going to miss our little corner of paradise. As we ate our first supper, a beautiful rainbow settled over the shimmering water off camp. A near-perfect first evening came to an end with a cheery bonfire and cigar with the haunting call of loons echoing off ancient rock to the east.
Day 2 - Saturday, June 8 2024 – Crystal Lake to the Haggart River (22.5 kms, 7 portages)
I slept wonderful in my warm, lightweight sleeping bag on the miracle sleeping pad that is the NeoAir Uberlite from Therma-rest. At 250 grams and packing smaller than a 500 ml water bottle, these sleeping pads are a miracle of modern engineering. As on many previous trips we were using my HMG UltaMid 2 pyramid tent as our shelter. At just 1150 grams for both the tent and a water / bug proof insert there is no better 2-person canoe tripping setup IMHO. My paddle works perfectly as the only pole this tent needs and it has proven itself weatherproof in many dire situations over the years. We were both stiff after all the carrying and narrow-channel paddling the day before but also ready to tackle the day ahead.
A brilliant blue sky reflected in calm waters ahead as we paddled towards the 875 meter portage leading SE out of Crystal Lake. We were feeling apprehensive as I have heard no good things about this portage from scarce reports over the years. My younger brother took it a few years ago and reported that it was beyond hellish. The YouTube father / son also had less than stellar things to say about it. I knew that WCPP staff had cleared it in 2023 but with all the standing burned forest there are no guarantees that such maintenance lasts over winter. But I knew there was another way. For some reason there weren’t many reports that I could find from an obvious bypass to the 875 meter portage. A short 80 meter carry near our camp heading south leads to a route through a couple of small lakes. From here a “navigable” stream heads east into the same unnamed lake that the long portage terminates at. As we paddled past this unknown bypass route I threw caution to the wind and told KC we were going to try it. She agreed – she always agrees with questionable plans which is why she’s such a good tripping partner! I almost turned back to the 875 meter plan once we started out on the 86 meter route out of Crystal near a small waterfall. For whatever reason, park staff hadn’t bothered clearing this short section through recent wildfire and it showed! We had a terrible time finding the old trail, nevermind following it through thick re-growth and fallen, blackened trees. It’s funny how quickly mood can change out in the wild. One minute we were paddling in perfect conditions with nothing but good cheer and the next we found ourselves struggling through sharpened, fire hardened trees and stubborn bushes. You learn pretty quickly while traveling through WCPP that you have to temper expectations regarding portage and campsite conditions – no matter when they were last traveled or even maintained. I use the Gaia GPS app on my iPhone religiously – both in the Rockies back home and while traveling Canada’s vast wilderness in a canoe. In situations like this it comes in very handy to have a device always handy in my pocket that acts as a GPS and both photo and video camera. The key thing to remember is to download ALL the topographical maps you’ll need on your trip beforehand and to have all potential routes drawn up ahead of time and downloaded as well. In this case we simply bullied our way through the burn and didn’t bother with trying to follow the old trail. It wasn’t pretty, but it worked and soon we were once again enjoying a beautiful bluebird summer day.
With a cool, steady west wind at our backs we started up a narrow stream – this one even smaller than the upper Wanipigow River. Although very narrow, the stream was surprisingly deep and had a strong current. We continued to marvel at the clarity and depth of this beautiful little ribbon of water even as we tested our navigation skills in its tight confines. KC quickly learned to pull the front end of the canoe around corners while I resisted the urge to oversteer from the back. Being against a strong current didn’t make things any easier! It took us around 1.5 hours of steady work to exit the stream and enter the unnamed lake SE of Crystal. Assuming the 875 meter portage was in perfect conditions the timing was likely similar between the bypass route and the direct one, but we enjoyed the paddle and decided that we’d be returning the same way – with the current! It felt good to settle into the familiar rhythms of a canoe trip after a year and especially good to be traveling through landscapes I hadn’t seen for many years. To be honest I didn’t recognize anything. I have a bad memory at the best of times but with the wildfires of 2016, 2018 and 2021 among others that have ripped through WCPP, these areas look much differently today than decades ago. Many folks find burned landscapes a little depressing but for the most part I do not. Sure! Traveling through a recently torched area can be overwhelming after a while, but most of the terrain we traveled was already busy with new growth. Song birds seem to find these areas particularly attractive and one of my favorite memories of this trip is gliding past choirs of birds serenading our journey. There was a short 50 meter carry out of the unnamed lake towards Broken Arrow where we simply carried the boat with gear in and regretted it. Despite obvious maintenance in the form of cut trees it was still a bit manky. I made a declaration that we would treat every portage the same as far as carrying was concerned, unless we could literally see the other end from the start! I’ve learned over the years that the best way to promote injury in the bush is to be in a hurry. Traveling with purpose is fine, but rushing never ends well. On a canoe trip it’s especially important to settle into a routine or gear gets left behind or lost. We quickly established our patterns – I carried the gear pack with my fishing rods, paddle and duffel bag on the first carry while KC carried a food barrel, camera case and paddle on hers. For the second trip I carried a small daypack and the canoe while KC carried the 2nd food barrel, the spare paddle and her rods. By carrying the same gear every time we quickly noticed when we forgot or waylaid a bit of gear at either end of a portage. One more short portage with a shallow rock garden exit got us into lovely Broken Arrow Lake. It was too early in the day to set up camp but it was tempting to do so anyway. Broken Arrow had spotty burn areas but plenty of live forest and shallow sloping rocky areas that would work excellent for a camp. With blue skies overhead and a stiff wind from the west blowing us towards the Haggart River we paddled on. A short pull-over brought us out of Broken Arrow towards a 150 meter portage leading through recent burns – thankfully cleared in 2023 and still in very good shape. I cut a tree or two out of the way to make my canoe carry easier but that was all the work we had to do. Other than walk the dang thing of course. After paddling and fishing another beautiful little lake we found ourselves at the first of two 350 meter portages towards the Haggart River. This one was marked “steep hill” on my WCPP route map and indeed, we climbed steeply up pink granite before descending back to another set of small lakes dotted with small rocky islands. Despite looking carefully for a site on the next unnamed lake we couldn’t find anything suitable in the burn. As we rounded a small island looking for a site, I heard crashing in the bush and stopped the canoe before grabbing my camera. I was expecting a moose to pop out but instead we were treated to a rare sighting of a Woodland Caribou! I felt bad that we obviously scared it off the island and we didn’t linger to get more photos, choosing to leave it alone after snapping a few shots while it swam behind us. In over two decades of traveling WCPP this is only the 2nd caribou I’ve spotted (the other was on Hatchet Lake in 2023). We reluctantly proceeded to the final portage into the Haggart – the day was getting long and we were feeling the efforts of the first two days. This one was a little tougher than the first, including some good ol’ swamp and associated suck. It was nearing 17:00 as we paddled past a high, rocky peninsula splitting the Haggart River. There was no campsite marked here on my maps but I spotted a rock cairn / firepit atop the rocks and decided we should check it out. Thank goodness for this hunch! Despite a manky landing area and steep approach to the site it was by far the best site along our route for the next many kilometers. Located at 15U 359819E 5650999N, it must have been used by someone in the past (hence the fire ring) but there was no obvious spot for our tent until I went exploring in unburned birch and pine forest just north off the exposed rock. There was no sign of anyone using this sheltered spot but I was delighted with it. Protected from all winds and even a good bit of rain (thanks to overhead leaves), it doesn’t get much better than this in the current state of WCPP where many sites are affected by wildfire and / or wind damage. At this point of the trip we were also “welcoming” a new reality that I haven’t had the “pleasure” of experiencing in WCPP yet. Wood ticks. My goodness were they BAD. Already I’d taken dozens of the nasty little critters off my clothing but even worse, I’d had over a dozen attached to my skin. KC similarly had been pulling them off since portaging up the Wanipigow the day before. I’ve never seen them so bad before and they continued to plague us the rest of the trip. Laying in our tents at night, we’d feel them crawling up our legs (whether real or imagined – it was gross). Dozens would be looking for a way into our tent and would congregate on the outside of the bug netting near our heads at night. I watched in horrified fascination one evening as several ticks changed position every time KC shifted on our sleeping matt while reading a book! I really hope this was a one-off situation or WCPP just got a little scarier for me. Our second full day ended under a moody sky with bugs coming out to greet us with the setting of the sun. So far in the trip the biting insects had only been problematic in the usual places at the usual times. Buried deep in the woods, I drifted off to sleep with the sound of billions of mosquitoes honing in our position. Thank goodness for bug netting! A whip-poor-will started up nearby and once again the call of the loon floated overhead as darkness dropped over our little corner of the Canadian wilderness with a swift silence that only happens when you’re really off the grid. And off the grid we were!
Day 3 - Sunday, June 9 2024 – Haggart River to Black Otter Lake (11 kms, 3 portages)
We woke to clear skies under a cool early summer sun rising over the Haggart River under our improvised overlook camp. We knew we had a short day ahead and slept in until 08:00 – it stayed nice a dark at our tent site in the forest. I was excited to get the day under way. All winter long, I’d been imagining what the next part of our trip would entail as we traveled through Sea Horse to Black Otter Lake. According to PaddlePlanner there was a 4-star site (B9) on the north end of Black Otter that I have spent many a cold evening behind my computer dreaming about. It’s funny how that happens, but I’ve had this same obsession with other areas of WCPP and it’s rarely let me down when facing the real thing. Our day on the Haggart started excellent. Despite very cool morning temperatures I immediately hooked into a large pike that was hefty enough to pull our boat around before I released it. So far we hadn’t had a lot of fish on the line so this felt great – half the reason I love canoeing in WCPP so much is the plethora of fish it contains. One of the downsides of a Wanipigow River approach was the lack of good fishing opportunities on the first and last day and the lack of Walleye along the Haggart River section. We continued paddling south down a narrow channel before finding our first portage of the day – a 225 meter carry into Sea Horse Lake. Just before landing the portage we spotted our 2nd moose of the trip feeding in shallows along the rivers edge. Thankfully, despite heading through another destructive burn, the trail was recently maintained with a few chainsaws and the carry was relatively straightforward. Sea Horse Lake was a very pleasant paddle. We trolled our way through the small body of water – its shores littered with the blackened husks of a once-beautiful boreal forest doing its best to thrive once more. Soon we were at the second portage of the day, a 400 meter path to a small unnamed lake. Once again we were very thankful for the 2023 chainsaw crews and enjoyed a delightful walk under a brilliant blue sky. We trolled and paddled the small lake before our last portage of the day – a 400+ meter carry into Black Otter Lake. This trail was even better than the previous one had been. As we paddled up Black Otter Lake the wind was picking up considerably out of the north. Despite planning to stay on this lake anyway, we would have kept paddling if the winds were calm. We were staring down the barrel of a 6+ km south to north crossing of Donald Lake and knew we’d have to get a little lucky to make it without any wind delays on the much larger lake. The campsite looked pretty darn good already from the water and as we docked on a nicely positioned rocky landing things only looked better. It was only 14:00 hours as we set up a lovely little camp on the north end of Black Otter Lake under a brilliantly sunny sky. Despite cool temperatures of only around 15 degrees, we managed a quick swim / bath in the lake to get rid of the previous 3 days efforts – not to mention wood ticks. After every portage we found tons of these tiny critters crawling on all available surfaces from our packs to our backs. It wasn’t my favorite thing in the world. I hung the hammock and we enjoyed hours of reading and chilling at camp. I watched a pair of curious beavers swim past, pretending we weren’t there but obviously on high alert. Finally, as evening settled over the Canadian Shield we went fishing for walleye. Almost immediately I caught a decent sized fish that went on the stringer for an after-supper snack. Shortly after the first walleye of the trip I latched onto a massive northern pike. Probably one of the biggest fish of my life, this thing made the walleye look like a minnow! Unfortunately for my $8 Len Thompson, it had to be sacrificed for the fish’s own health. After gingerly trying to extricate the lure from the giant mouth full of alligator teeth I decided that it was best for both of us if I let the huge fish work the lure out of its own mouth. I’d read over the years that it takes remarkably little time for a fish to get rid of a hook on its own and since I only use barbless hooks it likely didn’t take long for this one either. After catching many more fish, we returned to camp for a very nice walleye fry. We spent a gorgeously calm evening around a cheery fire before retiring to the tent just as the usual hordes of flying, biting things came out of the forest with hungry abandon. Due to the clear skies, I ended up exiting the tent again at around midnight to try some astrophotography. The alignment of the campsite gave me a clear shot south, enabling me to capture the Milky Way reflecting in Black Otter Lake. The next hour or two were pretty special. Just before going back to bed I shone my headlamp into the water off camp and was surprised to see several large walleye swimming slowly along the shore, cruising for a midnight snack! They didn’t seem to care about the bright light and their huge eyes reflected back at me from below the surface like moving orbs of light. I drifted off in the cool night air, happy to be exactly where I was.