Day 11 - Monday, June 17 2024 – Wanda Lake to the Haggart River (39 kms, 14 portages)
If you wondered what KC and I are capable of on a nice-weather day in WCPP, take another look at the stats in today’s title. Yes, that’s correct. We traveled almost 40 kilometers and completed 14 portages in one day. What isn’t reflected in the stats is that once again we were bucking wind and the portages were not exactly the easiest in the park. In the end, this turned out to be my favorite day of the whole trip and one of my top-10 days with a paddle. We didn’t know how far we’d make it today, but we both wanted to push things a little. It’s hard to explain, but we know what we’re capable of and so far, despite making good and safe choices, we had been erring on the side of caution. It was time to take advantage of a decent forecast and see what we were really made of. We woke at 05:00 and paddled under a grey sky out of Wanda Lake. It slowly transitioned into a gorgeous summer day with deep blue sky reflecting in the water as we paddled and portaged our way back to Carroll Lake via the unnamed creek. More than once, I was grateful for my clearing efforts on portages a few days previous while coming up the same route. It was 11:00 hours as we finally exited the unnamed creek into Carroll Lake. We paddled past the site we’d used almost a week earlier and bucked a strong wind towards the inflow of the Haggart River. I was more than a little nervous – but also excited – about this part of our adventure. I’ve canoed through this section of the Haggart River before (in 2004), but I cannot remember many details from that trip. Obviously, with all the recent wildfire activity, it would look much different even if I did have a better memory. The reason I was nervous was that while researching this route I came across more than one caution regarding the 8 or 9 portages descending into Carroll Lake where the river drops fast and narrows considerably. Images of fast water, difficult put-ins and take-outs and steep rock are what had us going up this section rather than down it. The sun was finally feeling warm overhead as we paddled to the bottom of a rapids entering Carroll Lake. We fished for a bit before putting into shore on river right at an obvious blazed and ribboned trail. The next few hours were great fun and stunning landscapes. Going up this section of the Haggart is much easier than going down would be, mostly due to the old school style of portage trails through here. There were sections of burn, very steep rocky sections and delicate balancing on tree routes clinging to rock, with severe exposure to waterfalls and rapids below. I could totally understand why solo trippers might have issues with the put-ins and take-outs along this section. It felt like we were in the rapids at both ends, but with two of us it was fun and engaging rather than scary. KC told me later that she wasn’t a fan of watching me with a canoe balanced on my head, scrambling up a steep cliff with questionable grip! I surmised that walleye could swim up the river to the bottom of the first waterfall (3rd portage) from Carroll Lake and made sure to catch 3 of them for a later lunch before continuing upstream. The Haggart River has no more walleye past this point. With all the excitement of the back-to-back-to-back portages it was almost 15:00 before we stopped for a delicious late lunch of fresh walleye near the edge of the burn at a scenic section of the Haggart. One last portage led high above the river, once again in burn and not in the best condition but easy to follow at least. It was becoming obvious at this point in the day that we would be making our initial camp on the Haggart at the unmarked elevated site we’d spent our 2nd night at. The forecast for the following day was dismal and we decided that after what was obviously going to be the longest tripping day of the entire adventure, we deserved a day off. It was 17:30 as we finally rounded one last corner and arrived at camp. As we sat by a small fire with Cedar Waxwings singing nearby and a loon echoing its call off shore, I meditated on the day we’d just had. Memories of hard paddling, wind, sun, waves, fish, rapids and waterfalls all combined for a very powerful feeling of accomplishment and peace. I’ve said this before, and it still holds. I thrive when the going gets a little tougher and the days a little longer. For some reason I am not built to sit around camp any longer than necessary. I quickly get all squirrely and find myself longing to pull on a paddle or hump a portage. Weird, I know – but I guess it’s not a terrible thing either. It gets me places that few others do. The sky slowly clouded over and grew more threatening as we turned in early after a tiring, but very rewarding day.
Day 12 - Tuesday, June 18 2024 – Rest Day on the Haggart River (0 kms, 0 portages)
After a night of heavy rain – as predicted, we woke on 11 hours of sleep and spent the day reading, photographing Waxwings and hanging around camp while the weather system slowly blew itself out. We were tired after a long day and didn’t mind a down day. We decided that we’d likely be exiting the park on Thursday unless there was a reason to stay a day longer. We went fishing for a while in the afternoon before settling down in camp for another pleasant evening and early bedtime on a bed of moss in the quiet forest.
Day 13 - Wednesday, June 19 2024 – Haggart River to Crystal Lake (22.5 kms, 7 portages)
Despite repeating an exact copy of our 2nd day in the park, our 13th day felt quite a bit different. Of course, we were now hardened wilderness travelers now, with established routines, strengthened muscles and much lighter food barrels. After yet another night of heavy rain we bid our elevated site on the Haggart River a fond adieu and paddled towards our first portage of the day towards Broken Arrow Lake. It was very cool on the water – not more than 12 degrees, but a clear blue sky and light winds made for a delightful start to the day.

Predictably for this trip, the wind picked up considerably into our faces as we paddled across Broken Arrow Lake. On hindsight, stopping here for an extra day wouldn’t have been the worst idea in the world. Broken Arrow hasn’t burned as completely as most of the other lakes nearby and is full of great campsites on low-sloping rocky islands. We stopped for a break to get out of the wind for a bit at one of these sites but we were now focused on exit and were hoping to make Crystal Lake today, no matter what.

Paddling down the unnamed stream, bypassing the 800 meter portage into Crystal Lake, was a nice change from bucking the strong current two weeks previous. Unfortunately for us, we also happened to be against a stiff wind which somewhat dulled the advantage. Can’t win ’em all I suppose. ?? One last, short, manky portage and we were back in Crystal Lake. Our site was waiting for us and by 15:00 we were setting up a familiar camp. I’m making today sound much easier than it felt. Reading my journal that I wrote at camp at 16:19 it tells a more honest story.
A tough day paddling against the wind AGAIN. We’re both more than a little tired of the relentless winds that have been against us for the most part since Simeon Lake! Today felt tough for some reason. I think we’re both ready to go home, we’re planning to exit tomorrow assuming the wind is reasonable. So many ticks again today! I figure I’ve had over 50 ATTACHED ticks this trip so far, with HUNDREDS more crawling on clothes and skin. That is also getting old. KC literally has wood ticks blowing onto her as she sits at a small fire. It’s ridiculous how many of these things there are out here this year.
It’s cold again today too. Not more than 15 degrees, likely less. With strong winds we are having a tough time staying warm in the boat. It’s been an amazing trip, but also rougher and tougher than expected.
The wood ticks were insane, I have to admit. I’ve done dozens of canoe trips and usually it’s biting flies that cause insect grief. I don’t remember getting even one wood tick on any previous trips, nevermind the dozens and dozens that were attached to my skin on this one. If this becomes a new ‘norm’ for northern Ontario I will not be impressed. Give me mosquitoes and flies and leave the ticks somewhere else please! A nice sunset ended our last full day in the park, once again we turned in early with plans for an 04:30 wake-up. We had to try beat strong winds on Wallace Lake the following day.
Day 14 - Thursday, June 20 2024 – Crystal Lake to Wallace Lake (24 kms, 9 portages)
We packed up the last camp of our trip and by 05:30 we were paddling towards the Wanipigow River outflow from Crystal Lake. We passed the Woodland Caribou P.P. sign with mixed feelings. It was a day earlier than we originally planned to leave and we had promised each other before the trip that we wouldn’t leave early. But here we were – leaving a day early. Sitting back in the city as winter closes in again it’s easy to ask why, but reading my journal it’s pretty clear. We were ready and the weather was somewhat forcing our hands with tstorms forecast for the following day. Sometimes you just have to take what you get. As we reversed our route down the Wanipigow we realized where we’d missed some better put-ins and take-outs on the way up two weeks earlier. It was a lovely day, but once again the winds slowly picked up from the SW (into our faces) as we worked towards Siderock Lake. We made quick time going downriver with light food barrels and practiced hands and within 3 hours of camp on Crystal we were approaching Siderock Lake. The wind was picking up and we wasted no time powering our way onto the large lake. We chatted with a couple of local fishermen in their motorboat before continuing to the outflow of the Wanipigow towards Wallace. We didn’t even consider the 1.2km portage – we wanted to take advantage of the high water and paddling with the current. There were no surprises as we paddled under a brilliant blue, early summer sky with gusty wind in our faces along the reed-lined shores of the Wanipigow into Wallace Lake. Predictably there were whitecaps as we exited the river onto the lake. We donned life jackets and set off on our last hard paddle! It was still only 10:30, we were making much better time on exit than we did on approach. I’m not gonna lie. The next half hour was hard paddling into a stiff wind and 2 foot rollers. As always, it was a bittersweet moment when we hit calm water just before docking at the boat launch in warm sun. Any hint of the strong winds on the lake behind us died out and for the first time in a few days we actually felt warm. Somewhat ironically, we ran into the first other canoeists of the entire trip at the Wallace Lake boat launch. A large group was heading out for a month long trip to the Pigeon River with their guides. Looking at their fresh, unburned, unscared faces and arms, KC and I shared a smile. They were in for a ride! Lucky them. Despite feeling great about being done our trip, I was also more than a little envious of these young folks with their boundless energy and enthusiasm just starting their own adventure. Woodland Caribou Provincial Park is a special place for me. Despite obvious challenges traveling through an area that has been transformed and disfigured by so much wildfire over the past decade, it is still a paddler’s paradise. Small creeks wind their way through cozy, sheltered canyons between hard granite walls of ancient stone. Rivers gurgle and bubble their way over rocks below, culminating in violent rapids and waterfalls. Innumerable freshwater lakes stretch out endlessly in front of lone travellers, bobbing in their small canoe on top of shimmering whitecaps beside glass smooth sheltered bays. Songbirds serenade in a vast forest that clings impossibly to some of the oldest rock on the planet. Where the trees are still alive, a subtle canvas of green moss lies in deep shadow with yellow, white, pink and red flowers adding some welcome cheer.
Bald eagles and turkey vultures circle high above while gulls and terns dive fearlessly into the shimmering waters below. Caribou, moose, wolves and bear stride through the shadows – only the lucky few spot them along their journeys. Beaver, otter, squirrels and even woodchucks busy themselves preparing for a harsh winter that is always looming close ahead, no matter the time of year. Fish cruise the deeps and swirl along the shallows searching for an easy snack, while loons, ducks, swans and geese compete for prime real estate to raise their young on the surface. Frogs, toads and other creatures of the swamp add their voices to the fray – drowning out the forbidding drone of billions of mosquitoes nearby. Colorful butterflies and dragonflies dip and swoop their relentless, seemingly random loops around our heads as we marvel at how lucky we are to be here.
I’ll be back.