JOURNEY #32 - June 9, 2003

Bonnechere River: "The Beauty Of The Bonnechere" (Turner's Road --> Basin Lake return)

MAP

Much of the Bonnechere River in this area is too small to appear as much more than a thin blue line on most maps. The best map is from The Adventure Map series by Chrismar. We purchased it at Bushtakah for $7. It is waterproof which is handy, but more importantly, the scale is such that you can make out islands, points, and bays which don't appear at all on other available maps. We aren't allowed to reproduce the Chrismar map here in any way, shape, or form, but the topo map for the area is reasonably useful. You can look at an online version at http://toporama.cits.rncan.gc.ca/images/b50k/03/031f12.gif.

PICTURES

A Tight Fit Past A Stubborn Silver Maple
The Swifts From Afar
The Swifts Closer Up
A Nice Stand Of Silver Maples
Silver Maples And Red Pines
Julie Sneaks Under A Tree
Duck!
Beautiful Canopy

TRIP REPORT

First things first: a clarification. The "One Hundred Kilometres" in the title above the link to this trip refers mainly to kayaking (97 km) and throws in 1.5 km of hiking and 1.5 km of portaging. 97 km of adventure just didn't have the same ring, so we had to throw in the foot travel. The "adventure" refers additionally to two automobile excursions for the specific purpose of viewing wildlife.

Last year we had an exceptional outing on the Bonnechere River in the section below Renfrew, and it inspired us to take a greater interest in the river as a whole. After reading about the section between Basin Depot (a historic site in Algonquin Park) and Round Lake we decided to spend five days vacationing in the area. We rented a cottage approximately half-way between these two points, and after arriving the evening of Sunday, June 8, we got right to it.

We were up reasonably early on Monday morning. The skies were overcast and we could tell there was a strong wind and a high probability of precipitation. That all suited us just fine. "It might keep the blackflies away," we said in simultaneous fashion while peering through the window.

The plan was an ambitious one: paddle west on the wider parts of the river through Enos Bay, Lough Garvey, Beaverdam Lake, White Mountain Bay, Curriers Lake, Rory's Bay, and Couchain Lake and then continue up the creek-like section all the way into Algonquin Park and Basin Depot. And then back.

After an enormous protien-rich breakfast and the usual messing around with gear, we were on our way at 10:30. After less than a km of paddling, we were out of range of the small section of cottages. We soon came upon a red-winged blackbird that had decided that a large blue heron did not belong where it had decided to perch. After a few dives and a peck in the back of the neck, the heron decided it was indeed time to move to the opposite shoreline.

As we reached Enos Bay, a small widening of the river with a couple of cottages, the wind was gusting pretty good, just about head-on. With light rain jackets we were very comfortable and welcomed the cooler temperature, given we were planning to go quite a distance. We estimated the total trip at about 46 kilometres.

We scooted under the bridge at Paugh Lake Road (a popular fishing spot, judging by the anglers' refuse on the shoreline) and into Lough Garvey and Beaverdam Lake. The wind was again whipping hard, and we were grateful for the sheltered section that followed. The river narrows at an elevated spot known as White Mountain (which is neither white, nor particularly mountainous) and we paddled through the bay and through Greenwoods Narrows into Curriers Lake. We took the southern trip around McGuires Island, and paddled through Rory's Bay into a long, straight, narrow stretch of river that we greatly enjoyed in both directions.

On the upstream leg we saw white-tailed deer, beavers, vultures, and hawks. The Basin Depot Road runs parallel to the river here, but we did not see or hear any vehicles on the upstream leg, and only one truck on the way back. As paddled into Couchain Lake, we kept an eye out for the provincial campsites located on the north shore. The first was marked with bright orange on a pine tree, but the site itself was not visible from the water. The second is located on a lovely spot right on the water, with an attractive view of the hills on the opposite shore. They were deserted, as was the lake and shoreline in general.

It took a bit of poking around to find the river at the western end of Couchain Lake, but we soon located the entrance and immediately encountered a significant current. As we worked our way upstream, we were soon faced with negotiating a fallen tree spanning the width of the river, which was now no more than two kayak-lengths wide. There was some snapping of twigs, and inappropriate use of a Tilley as a helmet, but we soldiered on.

The journey from here was challening. There were lots of fallen trees accompanied by fast currents, which can be tricky in a narrow river when you are trying to manipulate a 17-foot craft. It was difficult to figure out our precise location, but the red pines and silver maples provided gorgeous scenery. We saw many birds that we could not identify, and lots of animal trails leading to the water's edge.

We were getting very hungry and a little bid tired by the time we clearly made out the sound of some sigificant fast water. This meant we were now certain of our location: the base of the two sets of swifts some 4km from our planned destination.

It was time to eat, but going ashore was not an option, due to the siginificant presence of blackflies. We rested in our kayaks near the shore, and decided to eat our supply of celery and cream cheese, attempt to conquer the rapids, and then eat the rest of our lunch at Basin Depot.

The presence of a marked portage was a hint that the upstream paddle might be unfeasible, but we gave it a shot. Unfortunately, we could only manage about 100 metres due to the power and shallow depth we encouterend there. We took several runs at it, but it wasn't going to happen, so after 17km against the wind and currents, we turned back with our heads held high.

Some of the inspiration for this trip came from Kevin Callan's book "Further Up The Creek" and he had mentioned that the best section (in his opinion) was the area below the swifts to Couchain, so we didn't feel like we were missing anything.

As you can imagine, the return leg was a blast. Even with the current it was still challenging making it through the fallen trees, but with heels, hands, and shoulders starting to get a bit tender, we weren't too concerned with being graceful, and the bow served as a battering ram from time to time.

We tied onto a log and stopped for lunch before heading back into the wider sections. A huge container of chicken breast strips and mayonnaise disappeared quickly, along with ample portions of tomatoes, cucumbers, and cheese.

There had been dark skies and light rain on and off the entire day, but at this point it looked like it would storm for sure. We secured our gear, and set off across Couchain Lake with a stiff wind behind us and a misting rain falling from above.

We were quite warm so the rain was more than welcome, but the wind was mostly coming at us from the side, so we were happy to slip back into the narrower section where we were treated to quite a show by a member of the beaver population, who protested our presence with four loud tail-smacking dives.

Within minutes we came upon another creature in the water behaving in a manner that seemed less than practical. It was skimming along near the surface in what seemed like a random pattern. In other words, it seemed to be playing, which indicated: river otter! There is no more intriguing or entertaining mammal than this fun-loving member of the weasel family.

It dove under before we could get very close, and we thought it had left the area, which was disappointing because sometimes they will play with humans. They have such confidence (earned) in their swimming abilities that not much scares them. This would explain the decision of this particular otter to emerge less than a foot from Keenan's kayak. Unfortunately, this was most unexpected for the human involved, and resulted in a shout of surprise that likely succeeded in scaring the heck out of the poor little guy.

Other highlights on the way back included a more attractive view of White Mountain, and the type of fun that normally only comes from near exhaustion. There is a long peninsula that juts out into the river and creates the separation between Beaverdam Lake and Lough Garvey, but rather than paddle around we just busted right through a section of slightly submerged sandbar. Julie scooted over on the first try, but Keenan needed a second run at it.

We passed under a man fishing from the bridge (he hadn't caught anything) blasted through the windy Enos Bay, and into the homestretch. Not a moment too soon!

Here is a summary in statistical fashion:

Total distance travelled: 34.2 km

Total time taken: 8 hours (7 moving)

Average moving speed: 4.8 km/h

Top speed on the day: 10.3 km/h

Paddlecraft sighted on the water: 0

Motorcraft sighted on the water: 0

People sighted on shore: 2

Moving road vehicles sighted: 1

It was a struggle to get out of our kayaks at the small dock. We had not been out of them for 8 hours straight, and the knees were stiff, to understate the case. For the next day we decided to take a day off from paddling to make some arrangements for Wednesday's trip, do a tiny bit of hiking, and do some wildlife spotting on Basin Depot Road.