September Missinaibi River, Day 5

The campsite at the top of Thunder Falls in the woods was one of the better ones. We slept with earplugs in because it’s not called Thunder Falls for nothing. There was a great source of firewood in the form of driftwood at the bottom of the portage. We had checked it out to see how the campsite across from the bottom of the portage looked and decided to stick with what we had. Glad we did because when we got a closer look in the morning it confirmed that it would not have been worth the extra effort.

Starting with the portage meant we weren’t paddling until 10:15. We get up with the sun but there is so much to do every morning. We have a hot breakfast and coffee and always make hot soup and a thermos of tea for the day on the river. We knew this was going to be a long day—16 miles—without any rapids to break it up. A few swifts but mostly flat water. To make it more difficult, a steady rain and slight headwind made this midpoint day of the trip our least favorite. But we also knew that once we got past this “wall,” there would be plenty of thrills.

Lunch at Brunswick portage was in the rain under a spruce tree. There was just no way of staying dry, it seemed. Our mid-day thermos of soup tasted like a warm epicurean delight.

The campsite for the night had an unusual approach. It was on an unnamed island that Trish quickly dubbed Douglas Island (K 415 on Hap Wilson’s map). To get to the site we didn’t realize we took the harder right channel. Doug lined the boat while Trish scrambled up the rock prominence. In the morning, after a good sleep, it was clear that the better way to go in all circumstances would have been around the island river left. You could get to the campsite easier. The site was elevated, big, sheltered and yet open. Who do we petition in Ottawa to have this unnamed island named? Doug, being a Canadian native, says there are plenty of unnamed islands in Canada, something Trish wants to remedy.

This was Trish’s favorite campsite—high quality water access, the pleasant isolation of a small island.

Actually, all our campsites were isolated as we never saw a soul in the nine days on the river. We were the last one in to the provincial park put in before they literally locked the gate behind us. Supposedly the river’s popularity in the summer can cause competition for good campsites, but that was not a problem for us.

Paddled 16 miles, though it seemed like 60.