Leaving Gail was a long day, but not particularly hard. None of the portages were difficult, and we were in better shape and recharged after a day of rest. The day started out with a perfect blue sky and as we paddled across Gail we could see the shadow of our canoe gliding across the bottom of the lake.
I was remembering getting my feet muddy when we arrived, but apparently I didn’t remember very well because we didn’t find the portage put in. I was standing in the trees with the canoe on my shoulders and I realized that I wasn’t on the trail. I had to bushwhack for a while before I finally found it and we could descend down to Great Mountain.
The far end of Great Mountain is a flooded forest, full of dead trees and remnants of the logging camp that was once here. The water level was low so we had to pick our way carefully around half submerged logs, but we were finally in sight of the take out for the next portage with what looked like a clear path. But when we tried to move forward we bottomed out in the mud and couldn’t cajole the canoe into sliding any further forward. We were separated from shore by a 20 – 30m stretch of black ooze. I was contemplating getting out and walking through the muck to pull the canoe over when I glanced to my left and saw that another take out had been made in the tall grass. I still got my feet covered in muck, but after a couple of hops we found solid ground.
The portage to Fish Lake isn’t particularly steep or long, and the slope it does have is downhill, but half way there I encountered a large tree blocking the path. I had to put the canoe down on top of one side, duck under the trunk, and then slide it over. It’s a pretty enough portage, and there’s an old trappers cabin at the far end on Fish Lake.
Fish Lake isn’t the prettiest lake in the park, particularly at the east end. We were most of the way across Fish when we spotted a canoe pulled up near a tent. It was the first signs of other people that we’d seen in two days. We didn’t actually see any people until that evening when we arrived at our campsite on Murray Lake.
The west end of Fish is a bit more interesting and you can catch glimpses of the north LaCloche hills through openings in the shore line. There’s a short portage, and then a very convoluted stretch of Howry Creek snakes down a pretty valley. There’s a large puddingstone outcrop on the north side of the valley, and I took a few pictures of it to document its location. Last time we were here the creek was so dry that we had to get out and walk the canoe, but this time it was clear and an easy paddle to Gem Lake. Unfortunately by now the blue sky had turned grey so we couldn’t enjoy this pretty lake in all of its glory. Gem is ringed by tall rounded hills and feels like a tiny oasis. After Gem the portage to Howry is easy, and the east end of Howry is another very scenic spot.
We paddled to the end of Howry and got out of the canoe at the mouth of the next stretch of Howry Creek to explore where the map said the puddingstone should be. As I suspected there was no outcrop there, but we did find an old stone chimney, the only remnants of a long abandoned cabin.
This particular stretch of Howry Creek can cause problems in low water. It’s not so much the creek as Murray Lake itself, but by the time you get to the lake and discover that it’s not passable you’ve travelled a long way and have to backtrack back to Howry. There are several ways to detour through the low hills to the north, but they all involve multiple portages. I’d checked with park staff at the office before we headed out, but the breezy way that I was informed that it was passable hadn’t inspired confidence. After all, the staff at George Lake probably hadn’t been out here in quite a while! Fortunately the advice was good and the lake was navigable.
There’s a modest portage mid way down the creek and it was here that I realized that there may have been a problem with the canoe. I bought my canoe used from one of the Killarney outfitters. It was cheap, but it had a hard life before I acquired it, and it came complete with some extra wrinkles and dents in the kevlar skin. It’s still always proved sound, but when I picked it up for the portage it crackled suspiciously, and I could feel it flexing more than usual in my hands.
There’s a lift-over not far after the portage, and as we slid the canoe over the beaver dam I could hear more crunching and creaking as it cantilevered. I made a mental catalog of all the lift-overs that we still had to do in the trip, hoping that the canoe would hold together. It made it through the trip, and never even leaked, but I’m pretty sure it’s shot.
I’ve never been to this end of Murray Lake, and it’s much bigger than I thought. I kept thinking that we were just around the corner from where the campsites are located, but there was always another bay to cross. Occasionally the lake would open up, but for the most part it was choked with lily pads and we had to pick our way through a narrow channel of deeper water.
When we finally got to our campsite we spotted the first people that we’d seen in days. They paddled past our site to go fishing in the weeds we’d just paddled through. The campsite on Murray wasn’t particularly nice. One of the problems with lakes that are easy to access is that some of the visitors aren’t as respectful of their surroundings as those who’ve had to make a signifiant effort to get there. While Murray isn’t exactly easy to get to, it is possible to visit it without any portages, and there was an objectionable amount of trash in the fire pit. On the other hand there was also some firewood and it was nice to be able to dry my feet out in front of the fire as we ate dinner.