by Nancy Coulson
What can I say about the largest of our Great Lakes that hasn’t already been said? Not too much! Pristine water, unbelievably scenic rocky shorelines, sandy beaches (some rivaling tropic getaways), amazing sunsets, etc., etc.
Nine of us – Amie Chong, Bill Lanning, Bill Jackson (B.J. for this trip, as we didn’t want both Bill’s coming when someone yelled “Bill”), Rick and Cindy Rogers, Mike Daly, Gord Skarott, and Ron and myself – arrived at Naturally Superior Outfitters throughout the day on Friday July 8, after enjoying the 8-hour-plus drive, broken up by frequent stops at everyone’s favourite coffee place and one at the Busy Bee restaurant, just outside of Sudbury, for breakfast.
Dave and his staff quickly got us squared away with our fees for our shuttle to Pukaskwa National Park, Friday night dinner and breakfast Saturday morning. During dinner, Rick gave us some bad news. He had an injured wrist, and although he had thought it would withstand the trip, he now unselfishly decided to drop out so as not to hold us up, and more importantly, not to cause it further injury. We were all sorry that this happened, but now we were down to seven.
After dinner we moved outside and most of us participated in a group paddle in a voyageur canoe. It was quite an experience and we had a chance to see the area surrounding our host’s property. Pretty impressive!
Breakfast was at 6:30, and after eating, we loaded our gear into the shuttle vehicles and headed out for Pukaskwa Park. Cindy and Rick followed in their vehicle; they decided to paddle with us to the first campsite, spend the night with us, and then go back to the park for a few days before they headed back home.
We arrived at the park, paid our fees and, after unloading our gear, received a compulsory backcountry orientation from a park officer before we could depart. We ate our lunch while listening to all the “do’s and don’ts,” and received some valuable information and some answers to questions a few of us had.
Packing the kayaks was not an easy chore. A lot of very careful placement of stuff was needed, but we all managed. Gord always leaves room for my banana bread, and this time was no different.
We paddled away from the dock at 1:30, stopped briefly offshore to make an offering of tobacco to Michipeshu, the god/spirit of Superior, to ensure safe passage on the trip. (I won’t jump ahead too much, but it sure worked, we had eight days of great weather (actually too hot), and just two mornings with any wind and waves to speak of.)
Our first stop was only six kilometres into the trip, at White River. The campsite was just at the mouth of the river and was certainly not a “choice” site. There was a large pebble beach with quite an incline for the landing area. It did have a bear box and thunderbox though. We got our tents up quickly and then had a swim in very “refreshing” water. You get the drift; when someone tells you the water is “refreshing” you know how it really is.
Bill showed us how he had jazzed up his kayak with reflective guidelines and tape; it was really something. Also interesting was the little pink bunny that he had tied onto the front of his boat; it even looked like it had a tiny life jacket on. He told us about finding it floating in Lake Ontario and rescuing it. Hence, his nickname, “Billy Bunny”.
Rick and Cindy paddled up the river to the falls and the suspension bridge, but the rest of us opted out. On thinking back, I wish I had gone to see the bridge, but I think that the long day of driving and the almost sleepless night made the decision for us. We saw Rick and Cindy off, and then headed off ourselves into quite a good headwind that lessened as we neared Oiseau Bay.
There are six kilometres of rocky shoreline here, with few good landing spots. We stopped for a break on an absolutely beautiful beach at the Willow River. It is usually quite a busy spot, with lots of tent sites, but when we stopped we had it all to ourselves. Everyone had drinks and a snack and lathered up with sun protection and then we set off again. From the Willow River to Oiseau Bay the shoreline is extremely pretty, with pink and black granite swirls in the rock. We paddled into the bay and went toward the beautiful expanse of beach that awaited us. We got our tents up and then four kayakers from Minnesota joined us. One of the fellows was quite familiar with the area and after introductions, everyone traded stories about previous Superior trips.
Already on Day 3, with only 38 kilometres behind us, we realized that we had better “step up the pace” while the weather was good. We were headed to Cascade Falls, a favourite place of Bill Mason, the legendary canoeist, filmmaker and painter.
As we neared Cascade Falls, we could see the water coming off the rocks into the lake, and hear the roar of the falls. Ron and I went to the far right of the beach where there were driftwood logs the size of telephone poles and a small patch of sand big enough for our tent. The others went to the far end of the beach, beside the falls. Bill and Amie found a grassy area behind the beach for their tents, and Mike, Gord and B.J. settled on a few sandy bits amongst the gravel and cobblestones. We set up in record time and went into the water for a much-needed “cooling off.” Most of the group stood directly under the waterfall. (I took a great “manly man” photo of B.J. standing under it. I bet you Dorothy has put that one in a frame!) A short swim and a climb up the rocks brought us to a natural “hot tub” pool, where we just sat and enjoyed the water cascading into it. On the climb up, there were lovely little purple rock flowers clinging to the rock face, a nice thing to see. It was a little bit of heaven on earth, a must-see for anyone doing this trip.
We were serenaded to sleep with the sound of the waterfall. It was a very relaxing sleep after our 30-kilometre day. While we slept, something bit Ron’s lower lip. (We think a spider.) He had a bit of discomfort in the morning and commented on it. It started to swell and continued to do so during the day. We would have loved to spend another day there, but the old Superior motto, “paddle while the paddling is good,” reminded us to head off to our next stop, the Pukaskwa River.
The day’s paddle took us past Tug Harbour, Bonamie Cove and Pointe La Canadienne, which is known for being a bad area with reflection waves in a south or southwest wind. Luckily for us, we had no wind to speak of. The mouth of the Pukaskwa River has a gravel bar with numerous tent sites. We set up once more and spent the late afternoon relaxing, swimming, rinsing out our smelly clothes and just generally having a good rest. Amie practised her balance brace and Mike paddled up the river and reported back on things to see. Gord, Ron and I paddled up as well and enjoyed the scenery and the nice calm pool farther up the river.
The afternoon was hot and the sun was relentless. Mike had made a great, huge tarp, which he proceeded to put up. A few people were designated to hold the poles and tie knots, and the tarp was up. What a welcome relief.
Wednesday brought another hot sunny day and as we began to head east here, we were paddling directly into the sun on the water, pretty hard on the eyes. We were headed to Floating Heart Bay, a 39-kilometre paddle. As we paddled toward this bay we talked about how the name may have originated. Whatever the origin, it was aptly named – a really beautiful place. We met a solo canoeist when we came ashore and asked if we could share the beach. He said he was getting ready to leave and it was all ours. We discussed the weather and shared trip stories with him; then he was on his way. We said our good-byes and proceeded to set up camp. It was so hot, a few of us had to get in the water before we could even think of setting up camp. The water was a might chilly but we were so darned hot coming out of our wetsuits that it was a welcome relief! The Minnesota boys paddled into the bay and set up for the night at the other end of the beach. We set up B.J.’s Batwing tarp to try to get some relief from the sun and then explored the area a bit.
Dinner preparation was always fun, checking out what everyone was having. Ron and B.J. with their Freddy Chef dinners, Bill’s “add boiling water and wait” dinners, Mike and Amie with delicious concoctions and Gord and I with our Tortellini and tuna, in my case, and tortellini and something for Gord. We joked about what we would have with our tortellini the next day. Tuna, tuna or tuna, in my case but he had more varied supplies, chili and skillet surprises. So many choices to make. I had to borrow TUMs from Bill for a bad case of heartburn. It couldn’t have been the tortellini, Gord was fine. All joking aside, we all ate pretty well. Next time maybe I will opt for Freddy Chef, perhaps the Clayquot Sound salmon; now doesn’t that sound appetizing?
We spotted a large voyageur canoe go by the entrance to the bay and then a half hour later a zodiac came to the beach asking if we had seen it go by. They were the camera crew, doing a film of some sort, and had got separated. We told them where the canoe went and off they went in pursuit.
We met up with the Minnesota fellows later in the evening, on the beach and told them that we had discovered a thunderbox just off the beach. We talked for a while, feeding the relentless mosquitoes before we were forced to head into the tents.
Thursday morning we were again up early preparing for a 34-kilometre day, heading for False Dog Harbour. The sun was again heating up quickly as we got underway. We left the beach with no sign of life from our beach mates.
We had a good headwind (12 knots) and waves less than a metre, not too strenuous. We passed Point Isacor, and luckily conditions were with us, for this point has sheer cliffs and in rough weather, breeds deadly reflective waves. In calm conditions there are a few places to land, but none in surf conditions. There is an 8-kilometre stretch with no take out points available. B.J. and I were paddling beside each other and he mentioned that his boat was porpoising, and when I looked over I could see that after going into a wave the bow was not coming up as it should. We waited for Ron and Mike to catch up (Amie, Gord and Bill were up ahead.) and Ron and B.J. went into shore to find a place to pull out to see what was happening with his kayak. The rest of us were going to continue on to just past the point where there was a nice beach to stop for lunch, about three kilometres away.
There was a bit of a misunderstanding about the intended spot to stop and we ended up going ashore where there was a rocky shoreline and high rocks. Unfortunately, where we had to pull our boats up was behind a rock face and we were virtually invisible from the water. We watched for B.J. and Ron and soon spotted them going past, quite a ways from shore. We blew whistles and waved our life jackets, Bill used a mirror for sun reflection, but on they went, to the agreed-upon lunch spot. Gord jumped into his boat and paddled in a diagonal direction to them, to try to cut them off, blowing his whistle, but to no avail. He eventually caught them and the three of them came back to where we were waiting. We had a good rest, ate our lunch and enjoyed the down time.
B.J.’s problem, it turned out, had happened because his front hatch cover was a bit loose from some collected sand that had got under the seal and the hatch had completely filled with water.
After lunch we headed off to find a camping spot near the Dog River. We originally headed for what looked like a beautiful sand beach, but as we got closer, realized that it was in fact a large cobble beach, so we turned around and went into a small bay which we had just passed and camped on a smaller beach. After setting up, we proceeded to see what was salvageable of B.J.’s food. Soon the surrounding rocks that were still in the sunshine were littered with bags of instant oatmeal, bread, clothing and anything else that had the misfortune to be packed in his front hatch. Luckily he didn’t lose a whole lot, not that it mattered too much, as he must have had a premonition that something like this would happen, with all the extras he was packing. He would never starve on this trip. Luckily his sleeping bag and clothing were in the back hatch.
Ron’s lip had been swelling by the hour and his lower jaw on his left side looked like he was storing a tennis ball. He had been feverish throughout the previous day and was getting much worse. We were having a lot of whispered conversation about what to do about the bad situation with his mouth and fever. We had nothing in the way of antibiotics, just aspirin, Tylenol and Benadryl, none of which were any help. (We are definitely packing some strong antibiotics for any future trips.)
With everyone looking forward to the next day and the planned trek up to see the falls, we all retired early. Amie and Ron were up very early, Amie doing stretches on the rocks and Ron trying to pierce his lip with a needle to relieve some pressure. We discussed whether we should change our plans and get more paddling done to be closer to the Michipicoten River and our take out, to get Ron some medical attention. He said we weren’t going to miss the falls, so we paddled out and before long came to the huge gravel bar at the mouth of the Dog River. We paddled past the gravel bar and found a good landing spot not far upriver.
We packed our bags with lunch and our cameras and began the hike to the falls. It was quite a climb through dense forest and was sometimes hard to see the trail. We came out onto the rocks along the way and walked above the river, even though some areas were quite slippery and steep. To get to the high falls we used a rope that has been left hanging over the cliff for this purpose. A bit more of a hike and then we were there; what a sight. Anyone going on this trip should not miss Dennison Falls. We sat and enjoyed our lunches and the view and then everyone but Bill, Ron and I opted to climb to the top of the falls. Ron promptly went to sleep and Bill and I stayed with him. The Minnesota boys showed up and we talked and sat around with them for awhile and then another group showed up, so after our group returned from the upper falls we decided to take our leave.
We got back to the kayaks, and after a much-needed swim, headed to Minnekona Point, our last sleep. We passed some incredible beaches and with it being Friday, we realized we had to find a campsite before the weekenders started coming out from Wawa. We had another group meeting about whether we should stop for the night or just stop for supper and then keep going to get Ron to hospital. We settled on staying the night and getting a really early start the next morning, and as dusk was advancing quickly, realized that stopping for the night was the safest thing to do. His paddling skills weren’t affected, thank goodness, but his fever was steadily climbing.
We stopped at the point and asked permission to share the beach with some people from Guelph. Poor Ron, he felt he had to explain about his face; he thought they might think he looked like that all the time. They were agreeable, and with a large rock grouping between the beaches we didn’t really see each other after setting up. The tents went up and then we all went into the water to combat the oppressive heat. I discovered we had a thunderbox, nicely placed in the woods. Finding a thunderbox on a site was a real welcome addition to the trip.
We noticed that having travelled about 250 kilometres east, nightfall was coming earlier; so after a late dinner it wasn’t long before we went to bed. There had been a beautiful display of stars every night and this night gave us a great Aurora Borealis display as well.
We were up before the sun on Saturday morning, had breakfast and packed in record time. We did the remaining 14 kilometres in record time and pulled into the Michipicoten River and Naturally Superior at around 9:15 a.m. Ron and I also made record time getting the kayaks on the van, the gear stowed away and Ron to the hospital. The others unpacked at a more leisurely pace and we agreed to meet up at the Wawa Motor Inn. They insisted on staying until Ron was treated and for that, as well as their concern on the trip, I am forever grateful.
We got to the inn around 1:30 and went over what the doctor said and did for Ron (pumped enough antibiotics into him to treat an elephant) and his instructions until we got home. We enjoyed a good lunch, with perked coffee and food that wasn’t from a box or can. Boy, that food tasted good.
We headed out for our drive home around 2 p.m. Bill, Gord and B.J. had driven up together, but B.J. came with us, to help me out with the driving. We weren’t letting Ron get behind the wheel; he slept most of the way. After the Sault, B.J. took over and drove the rest of the way home. The two vans drove south together and we stopped at the Busy Bee restaurant again for a great dinner this time. We had said goodbye to Amie and Mike at the inn and were surprised and pleased when they pulled in to join us. They were going to Sudbury for a visit with Mike’s family before heading south. We sat and rehashed the trip a bit, then headed out. Thank goodness for B.J. coming with us and sharing the driving.
We reached Parry Sound around 11:30 p.m. Gord left for home, Bill stayed with us and B.J. went next door to his place. We got all our stuff sorted out the next morning, said our goodbyes and then started resting up for the next trip on July 30. [See Johanna Wandel’s write-up of that trip in the following article.]
Our Superior trip was great; we had great paddling conditions, great weather and even greater people to experience it with. Thanks again to all of you for joining us on the trip, and for the excellent camaraderie we all shared.