(South Kilburn Lake, Upper Kilburn Lake, Middle Kilburn Lake, Dragun Lake, Boomerang Lake, Talon Lake)

The crew was up bright and early and coffee was the first thing on my mind. We didn’t waste much time around camp this morning. Just as soon as breakfast was eaten we broke camp. As we dipped our paddles and headed west into a bay, the cool grey sky, clear deep water, and emerald green old growth hillsides reminded me of Alaska. A bald eagle soared ahead of us seeming to welcome us to this new and pristine territory.

As we reached the base of our first “real” portage that would stretch approximately a mile through the mossy forest, we put on the DEET and got our gear ready. Portages in WCPP are typically marked with a slash mark on a tree where the bark has been removed to help you spot it. This portage is not an official portage and has not been maintained in years but still had the slash mark. We made our way through the thick forest following a trail that some times disappeared in the moss and fallen down trees. We encountered a crew from Ontario heading in the other direction comprised of four men and six very tired looking young boys. That was the only group of people we would see till our last night.

We stood on a sandy beech and rigged our fishing gear for lake trout fishing. The gray sky looked a bit gloomier so we got our rain gear handy. Shortly after shoving off the rain began. We continued to meaner our way toward the portage to Middle Kilburn Lake as the rain started and slowly got heavier. By the time we arrived at the portage there was a downpour of rain. I was getting drenched. My lightweight breathable rain jacket wasn’t holding up to the task. It will not be used for any serous outing ever again. As I sat in the canoe, rain water accumulated in little pools on my jacket and started to seep through. When I stood up the pool of water would pour down my front. Thankfully, even though the wind had kicked up when we reached Middle Kilburn, it was warm. We headed west toward our next portage when the fishing started to pick up. Our canoe managed to catch a couple pike but some of the others were getting a few walleye. We decided to leave them go rather than carry them across the next portage.

We portaged onto Dragun Lake and decided on our next rout to Talon Lake. A flip of the coin determined the rout to the south through Boomerang Lake versus the northern rout through several unnamed lakes. On Dragun I was dragging a “laker taker” spoon and soon felt the weight of a fish on my line. I reeled up a lake trout but lost it when I tried to flop it in the boat. We paddled back and passed over the same water again but now the wind was picking up and the water was getting fairly choppy. Making it to a lunch spot seemed like the best thing to do. Greg managed to catch one laker before we met up with him. This wind wasn’t as warm as it was earlier and the soaking wet clothes on my back were starting to raise my concern. By the time we reached a clear landing to do lunch I was freezing. We managed to shore the boats and get out of the canoes but every time I bent down, my clothes would press against me and get me even colder. The others tried in vein to get a fire started but the wind was blowing and finding dry wood was next to impossible. I fantasized about crawling into my sleeping bag to get warm and paced around out of the wind. I eventually managed to pull the cookware out of the canoe and get a stove set up. I was shivering, numb, weak, and clumsy. The guys quickly got some water boiling and got something hot for me to drink. Besides the coffee and tea, we had a little gorp to eat, and then decided to keep moving. The decision to keep moving was a good one in my book as I needed to stay warm and standing in the wind wasn’t helping. While paddling and portaging I was able to regain some warmth and the shivering stopped.

   After a short paddle we were able to find a portage that was in the middle of a swamp. It was marked by a small piece of neon tape tied to a branch. If we hadn’t seen that tape we probably would have spent a long time looking for it. This portage was over in no time and led us to a swift flowing stream running through the swamp. The water was deep and dark and the stream was only about four or five feet wide. Once we got the canoes in the water and loaded, the ride was a blast. The only thing we had to do was push off the sides of the stream to keep us flowing in the right direction. Every time I looked back for the other guys, all I saw were the tops of their hats above the grass and reeds of the swamp as they followed the winding stream. We eventually came to a washed out beaver dam and a small lake that led us into Boomerang Lake. Once again the wind kicked up and we were paddling right into it. Slowly but surely we manage to get far enough south to a bend in the lake that headed west and the wind battle was over. That workout was enough to get me warm again. The rest of the way up Boomerang Lake we took our time and enjoyed the scenery of shores lined with bare rock outcroppings dotted with the occasional pine. The fishing was good enough to keep it entertaining with lots of small pike being landed by everyone. The occasional beaver would smack its tail on the water indicating it’s dismay with our presence in his or her little paradise on this lake.

   We portaged into Talon Lake and split up looking for a campsite. Before we reached the main body of the lake, Chet and I noticed an aluminum boat in the bushes so we stopped to check it out. There was one boat and a canoe stashed in the pines that looked like they had been there a long time. We found the remains of an old cabin which must have burnt down with the last forest fire. By the size of the trees the fire must have been less than 10 years before.

   Once we reached the main body of the lake we could see the different areas that had been burnt at various times. Areas of large pines were bordered by much smaller pines where the fires had more recently been. To our north we spotted an enormous bald eagle gazing over the lake. Chet and I made a deliberate paddle up to the massive bird before it spooked, dropped out of the tree, and glided over the horizon. We then turned the canoe south to look for a proper campsite and meet up with Greg and Bryan. Chad and Mike were nowhere to be seen but we could hear a couple hoots and hollers as their voices traveled over the lake. Our guess was they were doing well with the fishing by the sounds of it.

   The rest of us fished around the lake and checked out various points of the lake that looked “campy”. We eventually headed to a heavily wooded island on the north end of the lake. On our way there Greg and Bryan managed to get a fish in the boat but our canoe was not so lucky. Once we reached the north end of the island we could see that it had previously been used as a campsite and by the looks of it, a nice one. The north end of the island was a massive rock face that was open and sunny looked like just the place to dry my drenched bones. We ambled up the rock slope and unloaded our gear from the canoe. I noticed Chad and Mike were heading for the island. Chet and I hurried just a little to find the flattest spot in camp to stake our claim for a place to put up the tent. When they arrived we heard the story of why they made so much commotion. Apparently they guys had an encounter with a large pike and were having a blast getting it to the boat. The clothes lines were immediately put up to hang gear to dry. The group effort of setting up camp, gathering firewood, and getting the fishing rods set-up for shore fishing occurred instantly. Wet clothes were hung on the lines, trees, and draped over canoes. It was a pleasant night as we stood around the fire that night, warm and dry, with bellies full of lake trout.