Woodland Caribou – 2024 Canoe Trip – Simeon Creek

Trip Dates: June 07 – June 20, 2024
Total Trip Distance (km): 191
Difficulty Notes: Wilderness canoeing with limited options for returning early. Bushcraft and wilderness survival experience is necessary to travel through Woodland Caribou Provincial Park, especially after the 2021 burns.
Lakes Traveled: Wallace, Siderock, Crystal, Broken Arrow, Sea Horse, Black Otter, Donald, Carroll, Terry, Wanda, Ugly, Dunstan, Simeon
Creeks / Rivers Traveled: Wanipigow, Haggart, Gammon, Simeon
GPS Track: Gaia
Forest Fire Update (2021): Forest Fire Impacts in WCPP

Over another long Canadian winter at home in Calgary, Alberta, I spent many hours planning for a 2-week canoe trip in one of my favorite places on earth – Woodland Caribou Provincial Park in NW Ontario. When the virtual ink dried on my planning spreadsheets, I had settled on a return to Wallace Lake and the Wanipigow River as my entry to the extreme western edge of the park from the province of Manitoba. I was excited to be joined by my 24 year old daughter – Kaycie. In 2019 she joined me on her very first canoe trip and she was keen on a second one.

Planning & Preamble

I won’t bore the reader with too many preamble details – you can read about my typical planning cycle on other trip reports I’ve done. To make a long story short, when I learned that WCPP staff had cleared much of the western edge of the park in 2023 I knew that I had to take advantage and plan a trip there sooner than later. With all the wildfire activity in the park, portage trails don’t stay open for long. It’s been 20 years since I last canoed out of Wallace Lake on an adventure through Bulging Lake and the Haggart River in 2004. There were a few years in the early 2000’s where we used Wallace Lake to access the Gammon River through Carroll Lake towards Aikens Lake, utilizing the infamous 5,000 meter Obukowin or “Stone Man” portages. 

I have a love/hate relationship with Wallace Lake. In my previous 4 visits there, I have almost always had issues with wind and waves, including a trip where it was so violently gusty that we had to change our plans and ended up on a much shortened trip in nearby Nopiming Park. I also found myself with mixed feelings on the Wanipigow River, remembering some challenges, including a long twisting creek to Siderock Lake and shallow sections to WCPP and Crystal Lake. Because the route starts outside WCPP, there is no guarantee on the levels of portage maintenance to the park boundary. My go-to resource for up-to-date information on portages and campsites wasn’t of much help due to a lack of recent (any?!) updates on PaddlePlanner for the Manitoba section of our route.

Originally we planned a long and exciting route through Donald and Carroll Lake all the way up to the Bloodvein River through Ford and Artery Lake before coming back south up Simeon Creek through Dunstan and down an unnamed creek through Wanda back to Carroll Lake. I planned on exiting via the Haggart River to the Wanipigow and back from Crystal to Siderock Lake and our starting point on the Wallace boat launch. Circumstances while on route necessitated a change in plans, but I’ll get into that later. We planned for a 15-day adventure, prepping with food and gear as I normally do. I’ve done enough of these trips to make it a pretty standard affair by now. We took two 30-liter food barrels and plenty of lightweight gear including my Hyperlite Pyramid 2-person tent and small Isopropyl gas stoves (1 main and 1 backup). I packed much less fishing tackle than usual – trying to learn from previous trips where I took way too much.

The Adventure

After months of dreaming, scheming and packing it was finally time to hit the road on Thursday, June 6th 2024. Instead of driving 1900 kilometers from Calgary, Alberta to Red Lake, Ontario, this trip would be less driving than the last few trips to WCPP have been. We spent a very windy first day driving 1400 kilometers through Alberta and Saskatchewan, to the town of Selkirk, Manitoba. Gusts were so strong as we drove across the prairies that I thought my carbon canoe might snap in half. We ate a great supper at Boston Pizza before retiring to our hotel for the night. After being brutally sick the week before leaving on the trip, I was happy that I could eat supper and build some energy reserves before starting the long days of paddling and portaging that lay ahead.

As usual, we were too full of nervous energy to get a good sleep and it seemed like more of a nap before my alarm went off at 04:30. From Selkirk we still had to drive 225 kilometers to Wallace Lake. The drive up hwy 304 started out on pavement before deteriorating after the small hamlet of Manigotagan into a wide, hard pack dirt road. Not much had changed since my last ride over hwy 304. Sections were so rough I had to slow from 70 kph to 5 or risk breaking my truck. The tiny town of Bissett also hadn’t changed much. The last time I’d been there was in 2012 when my dad, brothers and I flew to Family Lake for a fishing trip from the Bissett aerodrome. From Bissett we drove a bit further before finally turning one last time, down a narrow, winding road leading to Wallace Lake.

The lake glimmered and shone in warm summer morning air as we drove to the dock and beach area. There were many permanent trailers set up amongst the dense trees near the lake, giving this spot a nomadic feel. This is not a beautifully maintained campground but rather a place for folks to escape the neat gardens and perfectly maintained lawns back in the cities to the south. Even the large cabins that dot the shoreline of Wallace Lake have a northern feel to them – they are beautiful of course, but also reflect the reality of a harsh climate and very short summer season. Filled with excitement we offloaded the gear onto one of two small docks jutting into the water. As I made the short walk from the backcountry parking area I meditated on how lucky I was to be sharing this experience with my daughter.

One last glance over the gear and we shuffled into my Souris River Quetico, “black beauty”. Our adventure was officially underway!

Friday, June 7 2024 – Wallace Lake to Crystal Lake (24 kms, 9 portages)

Our trip started about as good as these things can. We paddled away from the dock on calm water before a summer breeze caught hold of our boat and blew us towards the Wanipigow River entering the NE shore of Wallace Lake. There is an option to portage 1243 meters between the east end of Wallace towards Siderock Lake but we wanted to start the trip with more paddling and less walking. Being early season, I surmised that there should be plenty of water in the river and indeed, there was. Motor boats regularly travel between Wallace and Siderock via the Wanipigow so other than slightly more distance I saw very little reason to avoid the paddle. It didn’t take long and we were off the breezy lake in the calm of the river, surrounded by chirping birds and turtles and ducks hiding in the thick growth along the shores.

The river started out with lots of twists and turns but as we approached Siderock Lake it straightened and grew much wider. A hilarious mix up at a warning sign indicating “ROCK” almost had us beach the canoe on a shallow rock shelf, but we figured out the correct side eventually. (The sign has an arrow pointing where you should go, not where the rock is located.)

Siderock Lake was much larger than I remembered. I always recall Wallace Lake being the one with problematic waves, but Siderock is plenty large enough to pose its own similar issues. Thankfully we were with the wind and had no problems paddling the length of the lake to a weedy bay leading further up a much smaller Wanipigow River than the one we’d exited an or so hour earlier. Here we spotted the first of many moose on the trip, feeding in the weedy shallows. It felt incredible to be back on the water again. I spent many hours at my desk back in the concrete jungles of Calgary, dreaming about moments like this. Clouds drifted overhead and drops of cool water settled on my hands as muscles tightened and relaxed with each deep, purposeful stroke of my Badger Tripper. My soul started to fill again – the reason for all the planning, driving and expenses becoming clear with the song of the paddle.

The nice thing about taking the Wanipigow River from Wallace to Siderock Lake (rather than the long portage) is that you get a long paddle right from the parking lot. The not-so-great thing about it, is that when you haven’t been in a canoe for over a year, a long paddle without a stretch stiffens the body. I’ve been having issues with my lower back over the past few years, and by the time we finally navigated to the first portage it was murmuring some discontent. As I heaved the first heavy food barrel onto my shoulders I felt a familiar “twinge” in my lower back and immediately knew that I had just pulled something that doesn’t appreciate being pulled. Dang it! It was a little depressing to realize that despite my back feeling fine before the trip, I was now going to have to deal with it again. In 2023 I did a two-week trip with a very busted back, so I knew I could make things work but just as then, I would have to rely on my canoe partner to carry the food barrels. It’s not the weight that hurts to carry the food barrels, it’s the way the rounded edge presses into my lower back that’s the issue. Thankfully KC adjusted to the carry and soon we were following the first portage trail up the Wanipigow to a still-distant WCPP.

The first portage was short (~75m) and pleasant on a good trail. A great start faded quickly behind us as we navigated the next 120 meter portage. Due to high water on the river, finding some of the portages was tricky. Over the years the routes have changed, confusing things. In this case we ended up too far upstream and found ourselves on an old section of “trail” that was knee deep muck. Oof. There’s always a moment early in a trip that reminds you why this isn’t a Sunday afternoon paddle with aunt Edna. This is serious backcountry travel and needs to be respected as such. We laughed at ourselves before pulling the boat and gear through the bog and wrapping up the first of many challenging carries.

After crossing a small lake we continued upriver, navigating another manky, mucky, smelly portage (~56m) before tackling the last carry (~182m) before entering into the province of Ontario and WCPP. This portage was much better on return, when we found the correct downstream start. We weren’t quite into tripping mode on our way upriver and once again made things harder than they needed to be by paddling too far upstream to start the carry. Oh well. We made it to the end eventually! It was around 16:00 as we finally crossed into Ontario and encountered our first recently maintained portage. The river was now much smaller than downstream and walking the short 57 meters was very welcome. The first day is always extra challenging due to rusty bodies and heavy food barrels. The next 48 meter portage was also maintained – a good sign for the remainder of our trip.

Thunderheads were building over the two tiny humans far below, as we continued what was now feeling like a bit of a slog up the never-ending Wanipigow. Thankfully the portage trails continued to be recently maintained through the burnt landscape. After another short (50m) detour we finally found ourselves at the final carry into Crystal Lake. Of course it also had to be by far the longest portage of the day at over 310 meters. As the Wanipigow River leaves Crystal Lake it narrows into a very scenic channel which must be detoured on river right (RR). Finally, as afternoon transitioned to evening we paddled past a sign welcoming us to Woodland Caribou Provincial Park. Spotting 4 white swans bobbing in the back of a small bay seemed like a good omen as we entered Crystal Lake.

When planning the trip I was nervous about finding a campsite in the burned out Crystal Lake. There was no recent updates on PaddlePlanner in this regard. Originally I was hoping to duplicate another recent trip I found on YouTube where a father / son pairing made it all the way over a rough 800 meter portage into the lake southeast of Crystal. They were a fast traveling team with much less gear than us and it was now obvious that we weren’t traveling over 30km today! All good. Two-week trips have to be flexible in this regard. You do what you can with the conditions and realities that you are presented with in the bush. Rivers, lakes, wind and rocks don’t care about all your plans.

Thankfully we got very lucky and ended up finding a site almost right at the entrance to the Wanipigow (site “BW” on PaddlePlanner). On hindsight I wish I’d looked for a nearby site that we stayed on in 2004 (“BY”) that looked unburned on my 2024 photos but I didn’t realize where it was until I got home from the trip.

Thunder continued to rumble just south of our position as we set up our first camp of the trip. Crystal Lake has been torched like most of WCPP but our site had some standing (live) trees that came in handy for a tarp. I managed to clear a perfect tent pad on top of some hard Canadian Shield and we settled into familiar camp routines. KC blew up the sleeping pads and set up the sleeping gear in the tent while I hung the hammock, tarp and boiled water for supper. She set up the camp chairs while I started a cozy little fire and we watched a pair of eagles soar above, next to the towering thunder clouds that were clearly going to miss our little corner of paradise. As we ate our first supper, a beautiful rainbow settled over the shimmering water off camp. A near-perfect first evening came to an end with a cheery bonfire and cigar with the haunting call of loons echoing off ancient rock to the east.

Saturday, June 8 2024 – Crystal Lake to the Haggart River (22.5 kms, 7 portages)

I slept wonderful in my warm, lightweight sleeping bag on the miracle sleeping pad that is the NeoAir Uberlite from Therma-rest. At 250 grams and packing smaller than a 500 ml water bottle, these sleeping pads are a miracle of modern engineering. As on many previous trips we were using my HMG UltaMid 2 pyramid tent as our shelter. At just 1150 grams for both the tent and a water / bug proof insert there is no better 2-person canoe tripping setup IMHO. My paddle works perfectly as the only pole this tent needs and it has proven itself weatherproof in many dire situations over the years. We were both stiff after all the carrying and narrow-channel paddling the day before but also ready to tackle the day ahead.

A brilliant blue sky reflected in calm waters ahead as we paddled towards the 875 meter portage leading SE out of Crystal Lake. We were feeling apprehensive as I have heard no good things about this portage from scarce reports over the years. My younger brother took it a few years ago and reported that it was beyond hellish. The YouTube father / son also had less than stellar things to say about it. I knew that WCPP staff had cleared it in 2023 but with all the standing burned forest there are no guarantees that such maintenance lasts over winter. But I knew there was another way.

For some reason there weren’t many reports that I could find from an obvious bypass to the 875 meter portage. A short 80 meter carry near our camp heading south leads to a route through a couple of small lakes. From here a “navigable” stream heads east into the same unnamed lake that the long portage terminates at. As we paddled past this unknown bypass route I threw caution to the wind and told KC we were going to try it. She agreed – she always agrees with questionable plans which is why she’s such a good tripping partner! 🙂

I almost turned back to the 875 meter plan once we started out on the 86 meter route out of Crystal near a small waterfall. For whatever reason, park staff hadn’t bothered clearing this short section through recent wildfire and it showed! We had a terrible time finding the old trail, nevermind following it through thick re-growth and fallen, blackened trees. It’s funny how quickly mood can change out in the wild. One minute we were paddling in perfect conditions with nothing but good cheer and the next we found ourselves struggling through sharpened, fire hardened trees and stubborn bushes. You learn pretty quickly while traveling through WCPP that you have to temper expectations regarding portage and campsite conditions – no matter when they were last traveled or even maintained.

I use the Gaia GPS app on my iPhone religiously – both in the Rockies back home and while traveling Canada’s vast wilderness in a canoe. In situations like this it comes in very handy to have a device always handy in my pocket that acts as a GPS and both photo and video camera. The key thing to remember is to download ALL the topographical maps you’ll need on your trip beforehand and to have all potential routes drawn up ahead of time and downloaded as well. In this case we simply bullied our way through the burn and didn’t bother with trying to follow the old trail. It wasn’t pretty, but it worked and soon we were once again enjoying a beautiful bluebird summer day.

With a cool, steady west wind at our backs we started up a narrow stream – this one even smaller than the upper Wanipigow River. Although very narrow, the stream was surprisingly deep and had a strong current. We continued to marvel at the clarity and depth of this beautiful little ribbon of water even as we tested our navigation skills in its tight confines. KC quickly learned to pull the front end of the canoe around corners while I resisted the urge to oversteer from the back. Being against a strong current didn’t make things any easier! It took us around 1.5 hours of steady work to exit the stream and enter the unnamed lake SE of Crystal. Assuming the 875 meter portage was in perfect conditions the timing was likely similar between the bypass route and the direct one, but we enjoyed the paddle and decided that we’d be returning the same way – with the current!

It felt good to settle into the familiar rhythms of a canoe trip after a year and especially good to be traveling through landscapes I hadn’t seen for many years. To be honest I didn’t recognize anything. I have a bad memory at the best of times but with the wildfires of 2016, 2018 and 2021 among others that have ripped through WCPP, these areas look much differently today than decades ago. Many folks find burned landscapes a little depressing but for the most part I do not. Sure! Traveling through a recently torched area can be overwhelming after a while, but most of the terrain we traveled was already busy with new growth. Song birds seem to find these areas particularly attractive and one of my favorite memories of this trip is gliding past choirs of birds serenading our journey.

There was a short 50 meter carry out of the unnamed lake towards Broken Arrow where we simply carried the boat with gear in and regretted it. Despite obvious maintenance in the form of cut trees it was still a bit manky. I made a declaration that we would treat every portage the same as far as carrying was concerned, unless we could literally see the other end from the start! I’ve learned over the years that the best way to promote injury in the bush is to be in a hurry. Traveling with purpose is fine, but rushing never ends well. On a canoe trip it’s especially important to settle into a routine or gear gets left behind or lost. We quickly established our patterns – I carried the gear pack with my fishing rods, paddle and duffel bag on the first carry while KC carried a food barrel, camera case and paddle on hers. For the second trip I carried a small daypack and the canoe while KC carried the 2nd food barrel, the spare paddle and her rods. By carrying the same gear every time we quickly noticed when we forgot or waylaid a bit of gear at either end of a portage.

One more short portage with a shallow rock garden exit got us into lovely Broken Arrow Lake. It was too early in the day to set up camp but it was tempting to do so anyway. Broken Arrow had spotty burn areas but plenty of live forest and shallow sloping rocky areas that would work excellent for a camp. With blue skies overhead and a stiff wind from the west blowing us towards the Haggart River we paddled on. A short pull-over brought us out of Broken Arrow towards a 150 meter portage leading through recent burns – thankfully cleared in 2023 and still in very good shape. I cut a tree or two out of the way to make my canoe carry easier but that was all the work we had to do. Other than walk the dang thing of course.

After paddling and fishing another beautiful little lake we found ourselves at the first of two 350 meter portages towards the Haggart River. This one was marked “steep hill” on my WCPP route map and indeed, we climbed steeply up pink granite before descending back to another set of small lakes dotted with small rocky islands. Despite looking carefully for a site on the next unnamed lake we couldn’t find anything suitable in the burn. 

As we rounded a small island looking for a site, I heard crashing in the bush and stopped the canoe before grabbing my camera. I was expecting a moose to pop out but instead we were treated to a rare sighting of a Woodland Caribou! I felt bad that we obviously scared it off the island and we didn’t linger to get more photos, choosing to leave it alone after snapping a few shots while it swam behind us. In over two decades of traveling WCPP this is only the 2nd caribou I’ve spotted (the other was on Hatchet Lake in 2023). We reluctantly proceeded to the final portage into the Haggart – the day was getting long and we were feeling the efforts of the first two days. This one was a little tougher than the first, including some good ol’ swamp and associated suck.

It was nearing 17:00 as we paddled past a high, rocky peninsula splitting the Haggart River. There was no campsite marked here on my maps but I spotted a rock cairn / firepit atop the rocks and decided we should check it out. Thank goodness for this hunch! Despite a manky landing area and steep approach to the site it was by far the best site along our route for the next many kilometers. Located at 15U 359819E 5650999N, it must have been used by someone in the past (hence the fire ring) but there was no obvious spot for our tent until I went exploring in unburned birch and pine forest just north off the exposed rock. There was no sign of anyone using this sheltered spot but I was delighted with it. Protected from all winds and even a good bit of rain (thanks to overhead leaves), it doesn’t get much better than this in the current state of WCPP where many sites are affected by wildfire and / or wind damage.

At this point of the trip we were also “welcoming” a new reality that I haven’t had the “pleasure” of experiencing in WCPP yet. Wood ticks. My goodness were they BAD. Already I’d taken dozens of the nasty little critters off my clothing but even worse, I’d had over a dozen attached to my skin. KC similarly had been pulling them off since portaging up the Wanipigow the day before. I’ve never seen them so bad before and they continued to plague us the rest of the trip. Laying in our tents at night, we’d feel them crawling up our legs (whether real or imagined – it was gross). Dozens would be looking for a way into our tent and would congregate on the outside of the bug netting near our heads at night. I watched in horrified fascination one evening as several ticks changed position every time KC shifted on our sleeping matt while reading a book! I really hope this was a one-off situation or WCPP just got a little scarier for me. 😉

Our second full day ended under a moody sky with bugs coming out to greet us with the setting of the sun. So far in the trip the biting insects had only been problematic in the usual places at the usual times. Buried deep in the woods, I drifted off to sleep with the sound of billions of mosquitoes honing in our position. Thank goodness for bug netting! A whip-poor-will started up nearby and once again the call of the loon floated overhead as darkness dropped over our little corner of the Canadian wilderness with a swift silence that only happens when you’re really off the grid. And off the grid we were!

Sunday, June 9 2024 – Haggart River to Black Otter Lake (11 kms, 3 portages)

We woke to clear skies under a cool early summer sun rising over the Haggart River under our improvised overlook camp. We knew we had a short day ahead and slept in until 08:00 – it stayed nice a dark at our tent site in the forest. I was excited to get the day under way. All winter long, I’d been imagining what the next part of our trip would entail as we traveled through Sea Horse to Black Otter Lake. According to PaddlePlanner there was a 4-star site (B9) on the north end of Black Otter that I have spent many a cold evening behind my computer dreaming about. It’s funny how that happens, but I’ve had this same obsession with other areas of WCPP and it’s rarely let me down when facing the real thing.

Our day on the Haggart started excellent. Despite very cool morning temperatures I immediately hooked into a large pike that was hefty enough to pull our boat around before I released it. So far we hadn’t had a lot of fish on the line so this felt great – half the reason I love canoeing in WCPP so much is the plethora of fish it contains. One of the downsides of a Wanipigow River approach was the lack of good fishing opportunities on the first and last day and the lack of Walleye along the Haggart River section. We continued paddling south down a narrow channel before finding our first portage of the day – a 225 meter carry into Sea Horse Lake. Just before landing the portage we spotted our 2nd moose of the trip feeding in shallows along the rivers edge. Thankfully, despite heading through another destructive burn, the trail was recently maintained with a few chainsaws and the carry was relatively straightforward.

Sea Horse Lake was a very pleasant paddle. We trolled our way through the small body of water – its shores littered with the blackened husks of a once-beautiful boreal forest doing its best to thrive once more. Soon we were at the second portage of the day, a 400 meter path to a small unnamed lake. Once again we were very thankful for the 2023 chainsaw crews and enjoyed a delightful walk under a brilliant blue sky. We trolled and paddled the small lake before our last portage of the day – a 400+ meter carry into Black Otter Lake. This trail was even better than the previous one had been. 

As we paddled up Black Otter Lake the wind was picking up considerably out of the north. Despite planning to stay on this lake anyway, we would have kept paddling if the winds were calm. We were staring down the barrel of a 6+ km south to north crossing of Donald Lake and knew we’d have to get a little lucky to make it without any wind delays on the much larger lake. The campsite looked pretty darn good already from the water and as we docked on a nicely positioned rocky landing things only looked better. 

It was only 14:00 hours as we set up a lovely little camp on the north end of Black Otter Lake under a brilliantly sunny sky. Despite cool temperatures of only around 15 degrees, we managed a quick swim / bath in the lake to get rid of the previous 3 days efforts – not to mention wood ticks. After every portage we found tons of these tiny critters crawling on all available surfaces from our packs to our backs. It wasn’t my favorite thing in the world. I hung the hammock and we enjoyed hours of reading and chilling at camp. I watched a pair of curious beavers swim past, pretending we weren’t there but obviously on high alert.

Finally, as evening settled over the Canadian Shield we went fishing for walleye. Almost immediately I caught a decent sized fish that went on the stringer for an after-supper snack. Shortly after the first walleye of the trip I latched onto a massive northern pike. Probably one of the biggest fish of my life, this thing made the walleye look like a minnow! Unfortunately for my $8 Len Thompson, it had to be sacrificed for the fish’s own health. After gingerly trying to extricate the lure from the giant mouth full of alligator teeth I decided that it was best for both of us if I let the huge fish work the lure out of its own mouth. I’d read over the years that it takes remarkably little time for a fish to get rid of a hook on its own and since I only use barbless hooks it likely didn’t take long for this one either.

After catching many more fish, we returned to camp for a very nice walleye fry. We spent a gorgeously calm evening around a cheery fire before retiring to the tent just as the usual hordes of flying, biting things came out of the forest with hungry abandon. Due to the clear skies, I ended up exiting the tent again at around midnight to try some astrophotography. The alignment of the campsite gave me a clear shot south, enabling me to capture the Milky Way reflecting in Black Otter Lake. The next hour or two were pretty special. Just before going back to bed I shone my headlamp into the water off camp and was surprised to see several large walleye swimming slowly along the shore, cruising for a midnight snack! They didn’t seem to care about the bright light and their huge eyes reflected back at me from below the surface like moving orbs of light. I drifted off in the cool night air, happy to be exactly where I was.

Monday, June 10 2024 – Black Otter Lake to Carroll Lake (15 kms, 1 portage)

After an excellent day on Sunday, I was excited and a little nervous as Monday dawned on our cozy camp on Black Otter Lake. Today we would be traveling out of Black Otter towards the south end of one of my favorite lakes in WCPP – Donald Lake. From there we would have to paddle 6 kms to its far NW end where the Gammon River exits into Carroll Lake beyond. In 2004 I exited the south end of Donald Lake going east to “C” Lake towards Adventure Creek instead of SW into Black Otter towards the Haggart River. I’ve been back to Donald Lake a few times over the years including 2019 and only one year ago, in 2023. Both of those times we entered the lake via Royd Creek before traveling down east shores to the downstream end of the Gammon River. It’s always treated me well, especially the fishing seems to be of another level, which is no huge surprise given that my favorite WCPP river – the Gammon – runs right through it. 

We were lucky today. We were up bright and early to avoid mid-morning winds that seem the norm up here. On this trip I was using a new method of weather forecasting which also predicted strengthening wind. BoltWx is a free service that allows you to text via satellite devices (I use a Garmin inReach Mini 2) and replies with an accurate 3 day weather forecast for your exact location. Boy! Times have changed since I started canoe tripping! (As I type this report, my iPhone can now send texts to anyone on earth, directly via satellite, making the outside world even more accessible. A good and a bad thing IMHO…) By 06:00 we were paddling through thick morning mists up a narrow channel of water leading into the extreme south end of Donald Lake. The atmosphere was incredible even if the fish were almost non existent thanks to the cold front that had moved through the evening before.

I spent quite a bit of time trolling the smooth waters of Donald Lake as we paddled on glass the entire length of it. Despite a lack of biting fish, these are the moments I truly live for. Cool morning air on my skin as I dip the paddle deep into cold, clear water and draw hard on the smooth, warn hemp-oiled handle. Birds chirping on shore beside us as the black beauty carves a “V” shaped ripple on the unbroken surface of the lake on either side. The loud SLAP of a beaver tail as we race past to the song of the paddle. The mellow plop of an early rising, sunning turtle sliding off its perch on a log as two strangers power unexpectedly past. It was frankly, the type of moment that I will hold onto all winter long, until the next set of similar memories can take over – if I’m so lucky to experience such a thing again. In our busy, connected lives we don’t get many chances to experience such moments of absolute stillness. Alone with my daughter with a fierce ball of fire rising slowly through mists over a quiet landscape with no other humans nearby to mess it all up. What a privilege we Canadians have to call this great country our home! We are among the luckiest people on earth and do good to meditate on that fact every once in a while. It’s too easy to focus on the negatives and forget all the miracles around us. 

I did manage to catch a few reluctant Donald Lake walleye on a trusty black and white Len Thompson spoon along the way. Too soon we were already done the 6 kilometer paddle and looking for a 400 meter portage around a set of falls on the Gammon River leading to Carroll Lake. I knew that this trail would be easy to spot and follow – there are lodges on both lakes and they would maintain it for their guests. Sure enough! A lovely morning paddle was followed by a lovely morning portage. Today was certainly not a dud – other than fishing which continued to be very slow. We were under a cool, deep blue sky that blew in from the north the day before and fish don’t generally love those conditions. No matter. There’s more to canoeing than fish and we spent a long time checking out the falls next to our portage. One of the more interesting things we spotted was an aluminum fishing boat stuck on a rock shelf halfway down the violent rapids! I really hope that it simply undocked from the end of the portage on its own to end up there, rather than with passengers.

After completing the portage we spent time fishing the bottom of the falls for walleye. They weren’t exactly jumping out of the water into our boat, but as expected we did manage to catch a few decent sized fish out of the current seams beneath the falls. Something I learned many years ago while fly fishing small streams back in the Alberta Rockies has proved true here as well. Currents in water act as a giant conveyor belt for waiting fish that position themselves in the eddies and calm water just out of the pull. They dart in and out of the current as detritus floats by – including my 1/8 oz pink jig with white Berkley GULP bait attached. 😉 Another thing I’ve learned over the years is using 1/8 instead of 1/4 oz jig heads. The smaller heads don’t catch as many rocks and trees on their way down the “conveyor belt” and as a consequence I spend more time releasing fish than tying jigs back on my line.

After a relaxing coffee on a spit of rock just off the bottom of the rapids (campsite 93 on PaddlePlanner) we continued along the Gammon River into the giant Carroll Lake. Measuring at 22.5 kilometers from the SE where the Gammon flows into it to its far northern reaches where it exits towards Craven Lake, Carroll is not a body of water to take lightly in a canoe! Thankfully there are many islands and narrows to break down inevitable choppy waters but still – it’s a huge stretch of unbroken water. Our original plans called for us to do the entire 22.5 kms towards Craven, Ford and Artery Lake but we were having doubts. So far, despite good weather overall, there was a clear pattern of strong afternoon winds stretching into the evenings. This would obviously compromise our ability to safely paddle large bodies of water and we were waking up to the reality of hard travel through all the burned portages too. We decided to call off any final decisions until later in the day.

A short way past the exit of a second falls coming out of Donald Lake we came on a very interesting scene along the shore. At least a dozen large Turkey Vultures and two Bald Eagles were feasting on a moose carcass floating in the reeds. We spent some time photographing the chaotic scene before continuing up the lake, hoping to check out site “8E”. We chose this site as it was near the outlet of the unnamed stream we hoped to use as our exit back into Carroll Lake after exiting the Bloodvein up Simeon Creek through Dunstan, Wanda and Terry Lake. Looking back, I realize that as we set up camp on the open site we had already made up our minds to shorten our trip. The waters were still easily calm enough to paddle the entire length of Carroll Lake but we set up camp at noon instead.

It’s easy to have doubts about our decision months later as I sit in my home office typing up this report but at the time it made good sense. There were a number of factors leading us to change our plans.

• The forecast was calling for a pretty dismal following day with strong winds and rain – we had to paddle another 20 kms up Carroll Lake for a 35+ km day, just to have any chance of paddling again the next one in less-than-ideal conditions. And there was no guarantees that the weather would improve further on.
• My back was fine but not perfect. How hard should I push it while out in the wilds with only my daughter? It’s different when you’re traveling with your kids – you are naturally more cautious, or at least I am.
• I was still feeling the effects of what turned out to be Covid (my wife caught it from me and lost her sense of smell) before the trip and probably still had the tail end of it early in our journey. Again – is this supposed to be enjoyable or a suffer fest?
• I had been warned several times about the 2,000 meter Ford to Artery Lake portage – including in an email from WCPP staff just before leaving on our trip. I knew we could do it, but it was another factor in a long series.
• KC was enjoying the trip so far, but wasn’t sure she could take it up several notches which is what was required to make it all the way up to Artery Lake back to Simeon. Sometimes we overestimate our own capabilities – the important thing is to recognize it and adjust accordingly.

In the end, we made our decision and felt good about it. Instead of doing a giant loop in big waters, we would do an up-and-back from our current position up the unnamed creek to Dunstan Lake before transitioning to Simeon Creek. We would paddle downstream through South Simeon and set up camp on a large island on Simeon Lake before exiting the same route back to Carroll. (We still had the option of coming back down Artery, Ford and Craven from Simeon Lake, which we kept in our pocket as an unlikely scenario.) I usually don’t like returning on the same path but c’est la vie.

We were going to slow down, take what the weather gods gave us and settle into the wilderness over the next 10 to 12 days. Sounds pretty darn good to me! In the end, as you’ll see, we definitely made the right decision.

We spent the rest of a beautiful day at the lovely site, relaxing, fishing (not much success) and reading. I was a little concerned about the forecast south and west winds blasting us the following day. On hindsight we definitely should have stayed at site “8G” but it’s always easy to make decisions after the fact. We were concerned about strong winds and being so close to the unnamed creek was advantageous. I buttoned down camp with extra attention for the oncoming weather before settling in for another lovely evening in the park.

Tuesday, June 11 2024 – Carroll Lake Stormbound (0 kms, 0 portages)

As forecast, Tuesday dawned with low, grey clouds, strong gusts of wind and sheets of cold rain blowing through camp. Just as I suspected, our open 4-star site quickly deteriorated into a 1-star affair as I passed time adjusting the tarp and keeping a small, smoky fire alight. When we first woke up, after sleeping in until 08:00, we almost decided to start paddling but a few hours later we were very glad we didn’t do that! Today I finally felt myself settling into the wilderness.

As a city boy now (hard to admit), it takes me between 4 and 6 days to adjust to the stillness and isolation. So far we’d seen no other paddlers and only a couple of fishing boats from a lodge on Carroll Lake. In a first for me, I felt oddly out of place already on our first night in Crystal Lake. It’s hard to describe to someone who hasn’t experienced it, but when you pluck yourself out of the hustle-n-bustle of a city of 1.5 million and 48 hours later find yourself on a tick covered rock in the middle of nowhere it can be a shock to the system. I remember standing there on the first night with thunder peeling off in the distance and nobody else anywhere around except my daughter thinking, “what the hell am I doing?!”. Maybe it’s my age, as I close in on 50-years old, but I’ve never felt this so early in a wilderness trip before.

I’ve done fly-in trips to remote lakes before but just being in the wilderness isn’t enough to truly feel and know that you’re all alone in the woods. I know many folks do guided trips in incredibly remote areas of the planet including canoe trips on the Nahanni and others. But just being somewhere remote doesn’t induce the feelings that a canoe trip with only one boat does. We had nobody else to bounce ideas off, nobody else to assist in an emergency, no backup crew, no guide, nobody but the two of us. And as much as my daughter loves being alone and remote, she is not an experienced wilderness explorer – she depends 100% on me for the route and to make the big decisions. Traveling isolated areas like the eastern edge of WCPP with just your daughter is another level of alone. I’ve done solo trips, and they obviously come with their own set of challenges – both mental and physical – but being out here with someone who you love and who depends on you for survival is both exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.

It’s thoughts like this that explain why I didn’t push us up Carroll Lake the day before and why we took the trip down a notch or two instead of ramping things up. Looking at my photos of smooth water on Monday afternoon had me wondering why the heck we didn’t keep paddling but reading my trip journal reminded me exactly why we didn’t. I’m not often proud of myself, but this decision does make me proud – the younger me would have definitely pushed on without thought of consequences. I’ve done so many remote trips in my lifetime, including hundreds of solo adventures in the Rockies that I tend to underestimate just how frail us humans are when it’s just one or two of us sitting on a rock in the middle of nowhere. Well, I was realizing it today!

The weather settled in worse and worse until the windward edge of the tarp was so low it touched rock – and the gusts still blew rain right under it. Finally, as the afternoon ran on the storm blew itself out and a moody sky settled over the boreal. We turned in early to read books and journal in a warm, dry tent and fell asleep to the dying wind gusting overhead.

Wednesday, June 12 2024 – Carroll Lake to Wanda Lake (24.5 kms, 7 portages)

We poked our heads out of the tent to a moody sky at 05:00, ready to leave our exposed camp on Carroll Lake and start another stage of our 2024 WCPP adventure up what I assumed was Simeon Creek. But it wasn’t. While planning the trip I had no idea that rather than running all the way from the Gammon to the Bloodvein River, Simeon Creek runs only from Dunstan Lake to the Bloodvein. I knew something was up as we paddled the short way from camp into the mouth of the nearby stream and realized it was entering Carroll Lake, not exiting it. I continued to call it “Simeon” until we actually hit the headwaters of Simeon Creek and I resolved my confusion.

Wednesday, June 12th was a day for the ages as far as canoe trips go. What a spectacular experience it was to paddle under clearing skies in such a beautiful and lonely landscape. There aren’t that many accessible places on earth where one can drive to the trailhead and only 6 days of self-propulsion later find oneself in a place with many more moose, bald eagles and beavers than humans. Many more. We entered what turned out to be the mouth (not the exit) of a wide, unnamed stream and paddled against a lively current as it curved and wound its way through acres of water lilies and endless fields of swamp grasses and shrubs. It didn’t take long and we spotted our 4th moose of the trip, followed very soon after by the 5th and 6th ones. A cow/calf pair calmly got out of the way as we glided past. These aren’t your run-of-the-mill mangy road-moose either. These are a deep brown, almost black, and as beautiful as a moose can be with their ornery long faces, huge bloated bellies and gangly legs that suit their preference for deep muck and swampy areas.

Within an hour of leaving our camp on Carroll Lake we were at the first portage up the unnamed creek towards Terry and Wanda Lake. Thankfully the distance of this and most subsequent portages up this creek are much shorter than indicated on PaddlePlanner and more in line with the WCCP route map. The forest here was so torched by wildfires that the hardest challenge of the first few carries was finding a trail in the tall grasses rather than tangled fallen trees like elsewhere in the park. There weren’t many trees left here. A short paddle from the first, we easily portaged another 50 meters and continued paddling up a much more contained creek.

PaddlePlanner missed another short portage which again, was obviously cleared recently with blue ribbons (WCPP park staff use blue, others use orange), rock cairns where possible and a barely visible path through swamp grasses. Everything was absolutely soaked with the previous days rain and the temperature was cool at around 12 to 15 degrees but we didn’t mind. I learned a long time ago that the best way to enjoy wilderness trips is to have appropriate clothing for it. This is a hard-earned lesson over many trips when I was younger and couldn’t afford decent gear. In 2000 our whole group had signs of hypothermia after an ill-advised Obukwin / 3 Mothers portage in a deluge with shitty gear. Nowadays we have head-to-toe coverage for wet days, including waterproof pants with socks so that even our feet stay dry. Gore-tex pro on top provides both breathability and weatherproofness when needed. I can’t believe how expensive this gear has gotten over the years, but what is your life worth? That’s how I justify it anyway. 

We continued upstream, enjoying a moody morning before hitting our 4th portage of the day, just before Research Lake – unnamed on most maps. A beautiful, low waterfall danced and shimmered towards us as we pulled up and started a familiar routine. As we paddled the lake we spotted our 7th moose feeding along the shore. The unnamed creek continued to be hospitable as we paddled to one of the longer portages of the day – 150 meters near a branch leading north that we wanted to take. This was the first time today that my saw and ax were required to get through a thick tangle of fallen trees along the route. Since we knew we were almost for sure coming back along this route in a few days, I made sure to clear every obstacle that I reasonably could. There’s nothing like being kind to your future self! 😉 It was becoming obvious that the wet weather and environment was a boon to the local biting insect community and deet became our best friend on every carry.

A nice long paddle brought us to an unnamed lake where we found ourselves under a rapidly clearing sky and drifting downwind. We took off our jackets, laid back and enjoyed a well deserved coffee before spotting a pair of huge, majestic bull moose, our 8th and 9th sightings, swimming across the lake just in front of us. We marveled at their antlers and surprising grace as they exited the water and wound their way through burned forest on shore. I’ve never seen such large bulls together before – maybe they were brothers? We drifted to our next portage – another scenic falls before continuing upstream under clearing skies. The final portage of the day was much longer than indicated on the WCPP route map at 270 meters rather than 125. It was also through a much thicker tangle of new growth and fallen, burned trees. Thank goodness a chainsaw crew had come through in 2023 or this section would have been a bit of a nightmare.

It was nearing 11:00 hours as we wrapped up the last carry of the day and skirted the northern edge of Terry Lake through shallow reeds. We’d been on the go for 6 hours already and were ready for a little break. I suggested that we paddle onto Terry and check it out. I wanted to see if there was a viable campsite for future consideration and wanted to fish for some walleye for lunch. KC readily agreed and we exited our little creek and made our way to a set of tiny rocky islands just SE of campsite “71”. It didn’t take long to catch a few fat walleye for lunch. As we paddled past the burned out campsite we spotted something very large and black in the forest. At first we thought it was a bear but on exit it proved to be our 10th moose sighting. We spent a relaxing hour frying up and consuming fresh walleye before somewhat reluctantly getting back in the boat and paddling back to the unnamed creek.

I found myself getting excited as we finally exited the unnamed creek onto our destination lake for the day – Wanda Lake. I’d been dreaming about this lake for many months and now we were finally here. The sky was continuing to clear with puffy white clouds drifting overhead under a brilliant blue canopy above. Unfortunately for us, the next few hours proved to be a little frustrating. I’ve been tripping for over 20 years and one thing that’s served me very well, both in my beloved Rocky Mountains to the west and in canoe country, has been a meticulous and some would say, obsessive, planning cycle beforehand. This trip was no different. I started planning for it way back in January – it keeps me sane during long winter months indoors. There was supposed to be not only one, but two 4-star sites in this little gem of a lake – loaded with walleye.

The first purported site was on an obvious, unburned island straight ahead and we booked it straight over there without hesitation. Only to find absolutely nothing! I was perplexed as we slowly coasted by open rock near shore, expecting to see a fire ring at the very least, but spotting zero human sign. Trees crisscrossed the rock and even when I got out of the boat for a quick scout of the area, nothing presented itself. Dang it! What was happening?! An unburned island site in a lovely walleye lake with no site on it, despite beta to the contrary? It made no sense. Not quite panicking yet, we set off for the next option – a reported 5-star site to the west. Once again – no go! Oh yes – there was an obvious site here. But in an opposite problem to the first area, despite a huge fire pit and tent area, this site had almost zero forest. It had been completely destroyed by recent fire and didn’t look attractive whatsoever, especially with our experience of an open site in bad weather the day before.

Crappola! What to do now?! We had been paddling for over 8 hours at this point and afternoon winds were predictably picking up. Wanda isn’t a large lake by any means so we did what we had to do – we paddled all the way around it looking for a decent place to set up camp. TWICE! As the wind continued to pick up we got more and more frustrated. We found a few other old sites, even an old iron skillet on one small rocky outcrop and an aluminum boat pulled onshore, but nothing attractive. Finally I decided to check out one last potential site on a peninsula towards the north end of the lake and voila! At first it didn’t look like much – it was an old campsite, but the tent spot was exposed to a strengthening south wind and it didn’t have much of a kitchen area. Sometimes you have to make do with what you have and by the time we set up camp it was a 3-star affair. It turns out that the island site is buried back in the bush and I’m not the first to miss it. The open site is the one other folks use, but with drawbacks.

After a few hours of recovery at camp we were more than ready to fish for supper. It took almost no time at all and we were onto the famous Wanda Lake walleye! Trolling spoons worked best as we caught fish after fish. All the frustrations at finding a camp faded with each new catch and by the time we got back to camp with a stringer full of sharp fins and protein we were feeling pretty darn good about life again. After a delicious 2nd walleye meal on the day, we settled in around a cheery fire for the evening. The sky stayed moody but the wind completely died out as we drifted off to sleep to the serenade of frogs and birds, closing out a very full day of adventure and discovery.

Thursday, June 13 2024 – Wanda Lake to Dunstan Lake (8 kms, 2 portages)

It poured overnight in our little corner of the outback. Thank goodness for a good tent is all I can say. I woke several times to sheets of rain and wind hitting the single-wall of the pyramid near my head. There’s something vulnerable about sleeping in a paper-thin shelter on hard, Canadian Shield rock exposed to rain and wind. So-called, “widow makers” are a real threat in these conditions too – trees falling on sleeping campers have done their fair share of damage over the years. Thankfully nothing untoward happened to us and we woke to reluctantly clearing skies and cool temperatures. By 08:30 we were packed up and in the boat, paddling a short distance to the north end of Wanda Lake where we hoped to find the unnamed stream.

After some confusion with long marsh grasses we managed to find the stream and continued against a robust current – all the rain on and before our trip was likely fortuitous considering how small this stream normally is. As the sky cleared above and the birds and bugs woke up on all sides, the stream got narrower and tighter until willows and shrubs were threatening to decapitate the paddlers trying to push their way upstream. Because I was still thinking we were in Simeon Creek, the narrowing unnamed creek caused me great concern! I thought we still had dozens of kilometers to travel it to South Simeon Lake and this was NOT a good portend of things to come, if that was the case. After a particularly nasty, tight section that reminded me of the unnamed creek Hanneke (my wife) and I had encountered out of Indian House Lake the year before on route to Royd Creek, we burst out of the thick canopy to our first portage of the day.

Considering all the rain overnight, we were expecting a bit of a soaking thrash and we got exactly that. Despite the wet vegetation it was arguably better than the tight confines of the creek we’d just left. A reasonable 165 meters of portaging and we were in the creek on the other side, wondering what lay ahead with some trepidation considering what we’d just left. It wasn’t as horrible as we were expecting and we pushed and pulled our way through some shallow, reedy sections into Ugly Lake. 

I wouldn’t use the term “Ugly” for this little pot lake, but maybe whoever named it was thinking of the up and downstream accesses? Who knows. We enjoyed the warming morning and some coffee as we paddled and drifted the small lake, finding our next portage into Dunstan Lake in reeds at its north end. This portage was marked as 750 meters and this is where I first realized that the small creek we’d been travelling from Carroll Lake starts in Ugly Lake and is most definitely NOT Simeon. Oops. Just goes to show that nothing quite beats feet on the ground to figure things out. 😉 Our expectations were pretty low for this lengthy carry but as it turns out – completely unfounded. The parks crew and their chainsaws did incredible work through a tangled mess of old and recent burn. Despite almost no blockages (I cleared one or two), the open forest required a few extra ribbons that I obliged.

As you can see from the title, today was a short day with a planned camp in Dunstan – assuming we could find a campsite of course! Dunstan was looking pretty torched as we started paddling up it, our frustrating search for a site on Wanda fresh in our memories from the day before. At least we learned our lesson here, instead of going directly to sites reviewed on PaddlePlanner, we kept our eyes peeled for all options along the way. As we paddled north I spotted a promising, unburned spit of rock off to our right in the distance. I convinced KC that we should paddle over and check it out. Our campsite luck reversed from the day before and we docked on a solid 3.5 to 4-star site! With plenty of flat areas, a fire ring or two and unburned trees, this was very unexpected. We promptly called it our home for the day and set up a delightful, cozy camp.

It was only around 13:00 hours as we settled into our camp on Dunstan Lake. A few hours of relaxing and we were ready to try fishing. Despite cool temps, it didn’t take long and once again we were hammering large pike and walleye on Len Thompson spoons. Most experienced fishers would take note of that last point. Walleye aren’t known for hammering spoons – usually a simulated baitfish like a rapala or jigs are used to attract this species. I don’t know what it is, but I’ve experienced this “spoon effect” on other walleye hotspots in WCPP over the years. In 2016 my son and I caught most of our walleye in Haven Lake on spoons while trolling. Again in 2019 this happened, and in 2023 on Joey Lake, my wife and I had the same thing happen. It’s always while trolling (casting works for pike but not as well for walleye), and usually catches us by surprise. We took a break with a stringer of fish for a delicious early supper before heading out again in the evening.

At around 19:30 I caught the largest walleye of my life in a little bay just off camp while, as you guessed it, trolling a black and white Len Thompson spoon! I knew right away that this wasn’t an ordinary size fish. The big ones always start with a series of deep, lunging pulls that can even move the boat as you wonder what the heck just happened. Thanks to snapping my walleye rod a few days previous while moving the boat ashore, I was using my pike setup with 30lb gorilla line. This was likely a very good thing as my walleye setup uses 6lb fluorocarbon and would not have dealt easily with a fish this size. When I first saw the flash from below I thought maybe it was a lake trout, but knew they weren’t supposed to be on this lake. When I realized it was a walleye I got a little more excited. After landing and photographing the hog, I released it back to fight another day. We hammered many more fish before returning to camp, buzzing with all the action.

The skies continued to clear into the evening and we were treated to a spectacular sunset over calm waters as the local frog population loudly serenaded the loon circling nearby and evening song birds joined in. As I sat by a small, cheerful fire watching the sunset I meditated at where we were. 7 days from the dock at Wallace Lake and here we were on a sliver of rock with nothing but loons and frogs for company. What a privilege to experience this with my daughter, how lucky am I? Good thoughts to fall asleep on, so that’s what I did.

Friday, June 14 2024 – Dunstan Lake to Simeon Lake (13 kms, 4 portages)

In a common theme for the trip, we woke to cool, moody skies and slowly packed up camp. We weren’t in a hurry again today, only traveling through a few unnamed lakes to South Simeon and Simeon. By 09:00 we were paddling north, hoping to paddle the waters of the Bloodvein River system for the first time today. Paddling past other potential campsites towards the north end of Dunstan, we were very happy with ours – they looked exposed to the elements or completely burned out. After negotiating an interesting narrows at the NE end of the lake, we approached a short portage and the headwaters of Simeon Creek, flowing out of Dunstan.

The portage was a little “tight” as they say, but then again, so was Simeon Creek! After a somewhat manky, but thankfully short portage, we exited into a tiny sliver of water that must be very interesting in lower conditions. We’d had plenty of rain so far and Simeon Creek was more of a dribble running through tight rock gardens between granite walls – clearly visible on the topo maps. There was some interesting maneuvering to get the loaded boat through and over the shallow headwaters of the creek before we could once again get into the boat and very cautiously work our way downstream. 

Upper Simeon reminded both of us of upper Royd Creek. This was both a good and bad thing. I love tight, windy creeks with their more intimate setting and myriad songbirds, waterfowl and animals that tend to prefer the shallows and easier access. But. Tight, windy creeks also lose their depth very quickly and just as quickly become a nightmare. I remember when Hanneke and I came to the headwaters of Royd Creek and there was only 1 inch of water to greet us. That was a very low moment, I assure you. 

All’s well that end well, and before long we were exiting the narrow channel and paddling a small lake dubbed, “South Simeon Lake” on my WCPP route map. South Simeon was a portend of things to come with a mostly unburned, green shoreline.

A short paddle across South Simeon and we came to a short portage along a scenic little rapids. Another short, twisty paddle on Simeon Creek and we spotted our last portage of the day, leading off across a floating bog to a height of land presumably sitting between us and Simeon Lake. Thankfully I spotted an orange ribbon tied to a half-sunken log or we might not have found this portage so easily. Other than a few wet sections balancing the bog, the carry wasn’t especially difficult – the trail was recently maintained through unburned forest. 

Simeon Lake was heaven. After days in mostly burned landscapes, we exited the final portage onto Simeon Lake under a bright, blue sky and enjoyed a delightful paddle north to campsite “4N”. I must admit to feeling pretty pumped that we’d made it this far north. Remember – only a few hours into our trip I’d pulled my back. Thankfully my bout of Covid was in the rearview 8 days into the trip but it was still affecting my energy levels. We set up a delightful camp and settled in. We’d discussed the idea of moving further north onto the Bloodvein River proper, but with a gloomy forecast for the next few days we decided that we’d stay here for an extra day of relaxing and fishing the area instead of pushing further. We spent a few hours setting up camp and relaxing, before heading out to catch some walleye for supper.

As usual, walleye were in good supply and within a few hours our stringer had two nice sized specimens with others released and several large pike caught as well. We returned to camp to swim and eat fish – the weather was now gorgeous at 20 degrees and sunny. After supper we spent a few hours fishing north of our camp along another side channel of the Bloodvein and experienced some of the best fishing I’ve ever had in WCPP. I’m sure it was a combination of time of year, weather and of course, luck, but we really cleaned up on the evening of Friday, June 14th.

I caught a number of huge pike and walleye and so did KC. My largest fish was a pike that pulled the canoe around before I had to cut the 2nd fish of the trip off my line to avoid hurting both me and them. And yes – it was my last black and white Len Thompson lure. Dang it. Oh well. #worthitbigtime

Saturday, June 15 2024 – Simeon Lake Rest Day (0 kms, 0 portages)

Rather than deal with strong winds and forecast rain, KC and I decided to sleep in and enjoy an extra day at the northernmost point of our trip and the northernmost camp I’ve stayed at so far in WCPP in Simeon Lake. The winds were indeed, fierce all day and it wasn’t until the evening hours that we managed to sneak out for some more fantastic Bloodvein River fishing. Once again, we caught several huge pike and easily enough walleye for supper. I’ve read of several parties unable to reliably catch fish while canoeing the Bloodvein and it’s always surprised me. Based on my limited experience, I can’t wait to get back and fish it some more.

We turned in early as wind and rain hammered our little corner of the world yet again. This trip was proving to have it all. Sun, wind, rain and fish, there isn’t much more you can ask for! Winds were forecast to be strong again from the south the next day and of course that was our direction of travel as we reversed our route back to Carroll Lake. The forecast also proved our choice to avoid the much longer route to Artery and then south through Ford and Carroll Lake to be a good one.

Sunday, June 16 2024 – Simeon Lake to Wanda Lake (20 kms, 6 portages)

We woke up early at our Simeon Lake campsite and by 05:00 we were paddling south, glancing back one last time before bending the paddles on the calm lake surface. That would not last long – the calm that is. A night of strong thunderstorms was forecast to be followed by several days of strong south winds and indeed, this was the case as we reversed our route from the past few days. The day started very grey, very wet and quickly got windy as we completed the first few portages and navigated back up a narrowing Simeon Creek towards Dunstan Lake.

By the time we broke out of Simeon Creek and paddled onto the northern reaches of Dunstan the wind was ferocious and directly into our faces. Thankfully the rain had stopped but as we started the 4km paddle south we weren’t feeling very thankful. Unfortunately my GoPro had a smashed lens from one of the portages so it was now out of commission for the rest of the trip. (Next time I’ll bring a spare lens.) It was too windy to pull out the phone for video, so there is no evidence of how hard the paddle was, but it wasn’t easy. It was one of those endless battles where the shoreline inches past so slowly it’s like you’re not even moving.

Eventually we paddled the last few strokes off Dunstan and portaged the 750 meters back towards Ugly Lake. I was a little surprised to see fresh blowdown from the most recent storm. Only 2 days after passing through and maintaining it, I had to break out the saw again! This is the reality of things right now in the park. There are so many standing, burned, dead trees that after every storm there is potential for any portage to be completely blocked again. Thankfully the sun was now trying to make an appearance, but the wind remained strong as we paddled down Ugly Lake.

We were greeted by roughly 1.5 billion thirsty mosquitoes on the 165 meter portage into Wanda from Ugly Lake. This, combined with some fresh blowdown made for a bit of a struggle, but we made it to the unnamed stream leading back to Wanda where we could see whitecaps on the lake ahead. Donning life jackets, we buckled down and comforted ourselves with the thought of a waiting campsite before launching into the frey. By noon we were at a familiar campsite “6A” on Wanda. Unfortunately this site was very exposed to the intense south winds and I thought the tent might break free of its mooring but thankfully it was just fine.

The rest of Sunday was spent hunkered down on Wanda Lake. It was simply too windy to even venture a little way to fish for walleye, so we didn’t bother. Some days are like this, you take what you can get. 

Monday, June 17 2024 – Wanda Lake to the Haggart River (39 kms, 14 portages)

If you wondered what KC and I are capable of on a nice-weather day in WCPP, take another look at the stats in today’s title. Yes, that’s correct. We traveled almost 40 kilometers and completed 14 portages in one day. What isn’t reflected in the stats is that once again we were bucking wind and the portages were not exactly the easiest in the park. In the end, this turned out to be my favorite day of the whole trip and one of my top-10 days with a paddle.

We didn’t know how far we’d make it today, but we both wanted to push things a little. It’s hard to explain, but we know what we’re capable of and so far, despite making good and safe choices, we had been erring on the side of caution. It was time to take advantage of a decent forecast and see what we were really made of. We woke at 05:00 and paddled under a grey sky out of Wanda Lake. It transitioned into a gorgeous summer day with deep blue sky reflecting in the water as we paddled and portaged our way back to Carroll Lake via the unnamed creek. More than once, I was grateful for my clearing efforts on portages a few days previous while coming up the same route.

It was 11:00 hours as we finally exited the unnamed creek into Carroll Lake. We paddled past the site we’d used almost a week earlier and bucked a strong wind towards the inflow of the Haggart River. I was more than a little nervous – but also excited – about this part of our adventure. I’ve canoed through this section of the Haggart River before (in 2004), but I cannot remember many details from that trip. Obviously, with all the recent wildfire activity, it would look much different even if I did have a better memory. The reason I was nervous was that while researching this route I came across more than one caution regarding the 8 or 9 portages descending into Carroll Lake where the river drops fast and narrows considerably. Images of fast water, difficult put-ins and take-outs and steep rock are what had us going up this section rather than down it.

The sun was finally feeling warm overhead as we paddled to the bottom of a rapids entering Carroll Lake. We fished for a bit before putting into shore on river right at an obvious blazed and ribboned trail. The next few hours were great fun and stunning landscapes. Going up this section of the Haggart is much easier than going down would be, mostly due to the old school style of portage trails through here. 

There were sections of burn, very steep rocky sections and delicate balancing on tree routes clinging to rock, with severe exposure to waterfalls and rapids below.

I could totally understand why solo trippers might have issues with the put-ins and take-outs along this section. It felt like we were in the rapids at both ends, but with two of us it was fun and engaging rather than scary.

KC told me later that she wasn’t a fan of watching me with a canoe balanced on my head, scrambling up a steep cliff with questionable grip!

I surmised that walleye could swim up the river to the bottom of the first waterfall (3rd portage) from Carroll Lake and made sure to catch 3 of them for a later lunch before continuing upstream. The Haggart River has no more walleye past this point. With all the excitement of the back-to-back-to-back portages it was almost 15:00 before we stopped for a delicious late lunch of fresh walleye near the edge of the burn at a scenic section of the Haggart. 

One last portage led high above the river, once again in burn and not in the best condition but easy to follow at least. It was becoming obvious at this point in the day that we would be making our initial camp on the Haggart at the unmarked elevated site we’d spent our 2nd night at. The forecast for the following day was dismal and we decided that after what was obviously going to be the longest tripping day of the entire adventure, we deserved a day off. It was 17:30 as we finally rounded one last corner and arrived at camp. 

As we sat by a small fire with Cedar Waxwings singing nearby and a loon echoing its call off shore, I meditated on the day we’d just had. Memories of hard paddling, wind, sun, waves, fish, rapids and waterfalls all combined for a very powerful feeling of accomplishment and peace. I’ve said this before, and it still holds. I thrive when the going gets a little tougher and the days a little longer.

For some reason I am not built to sit around camp any longer than necessary. I quickly get all squirrely and find myself longing to pull on a paddle or hump a portage. Weird, I know – but I guess it’s not a terrible thing either. It gets me places that few others do. The sky slowly clouded over and grew more threatening as we turned in early after a tiring, but very rewarding day.

Tuesday, June 18 2024 – Rest Day on the Haggart River (0 kms, 0 portages)

After a night of heavy rain – as predicted, we woke on 11 hours of sleep and spent the day reading, photographing Waxwings and hanging around camp while the weather system slowly blew itself out. We were tired after a long day and didn’t mind a down day.

We decided that we’d likely be exiting the park on Thursday unless there was a reason to stay a day longer. We went fishing for a while in the afternoon before settling down in camp for another pleasant evening and early bedtime on a bed of moss in the quiet forest.

Wednesday, June 19 2024 – Haggart River to Crystal Lake (22.5 kms, 7 portages)

Despite repeating an exact copy of our 2nd day in the park, our 13th day felt quite a bit different. Of course, we were now hardened wilderness travelers now, with established routines, strengthened muscles and much lighter food barrels. After yet another night of heavy rain we bid our elevated site on the Haggart River a fond adieu and paddled towards our first portage of the day towards Broken Arrow Lake. It was very cool on the water – not more than 12 degrees, but a clear blue sky and light winds made for a delightful start to the day. 

Predictably for this trip, the wind picked up considerably into our faces as we paddled across Broken Arrow Lake. On hindsight, stopping here for an extra day wouldn’t have been the worst idea in the world. Broken Arrow hasn’t burned as completely as most of the other lakes nearby and is full of great campsites on low-sloping rocky islands. We stopped for a break to get out of the wind for a bit at one of these sites but we were now focused on exit and were hoping to make Crystal Lake today, no matter what. 

Paddling down the unnamed stream, bypassing the 800 meter portage into Crystal Lake, was a nice change from bucking the strong current two weeks previous. Unfortunately for us, we also happened to be against a stiff wind which somewhat dulled the advantage. Can’t win ’em all I suppose. 😉 One last, short, manky portage and we were back in Crystal Lake.

Our site was waiting for us and by 15:00 we were setting up a familiar camp. I’m making today sound much easier than it felt. Reading my journal that I wrote at camp at 16:19 it tells a more honest story.

A tough day paddling against the wind AGAIN. We’re both more than a little tired of the relentless winds that have been against us for the most part since Simeon Lake! Today felt tough for some reason. I think we’re both ready to go home, we’re planning to exit tomorrow assuming the wind is reasonable. So many ticks again today! I figure I’ve had over 50 ATTACHED ticks this trip so far, with HUNDREDS more crawling on clothes and skin. That is also getting old. KC literally has wood ticks blowing onto her as she sits at a small fire. It’s ridiculous how many of these things there are out here this year. 

It’s cold again today too. Not more than 15 degrees, likely less. With strong winds we are having a tough time staying warm in the boat. It’s been an amazing trip, but also rougher and tougher than expected.

The wood ticks were insane, I have to admit. I’ve done dozens of canoe trips and usually it’s biting flies that cause insect grief.

I don’t remember getting even one wood tick on any previous trips, nevermind the dozens and dozens that were attached to my skin on this one. If this becomes a new ‘norm’ for northern Ontario I will not be impressed. Give me mosquitoes and flies and leave the ticks somewhere else please!

A nice sunset ended our last full day in the park, once again we turned in early with plans for an 04:30 wake-up. We had to try beat strong winds on Wallace Lake the following day.

Thursday, June 20 2024 – Crystal Lake to Wallace Lake (24 kms, 9 portages)

We packed up the last camp of our trip and by 05:30 we were paddling towards the Wanipigow River outflow from Crystal Lake. We passed the Woodland Caribou P.P. sign with mixed feelings. It was a day earlier than we originally planned to leave and we had promised each other before the trip that we wouldn’t leave early. But here we were – leaving a day early. Sitting back in the city as winter closes in again it’s easy to ask why, but reading my journal it’s pretty clear. We were ready and the weather was somewhat forcing our hands with tstorms forecast for the following day. Sometimes you just have to take what you get. 

As we reversed our route down the Wanipigow we realized where we’d missed some better put-ins and take-outs on the way up two weeks earlier. It was a lovely day, but once again the winds slowly picked up from the SW (into our faces) as we worked towards Siderock Lake. We made quick time going downriver with light food barrels and practiced hands and within 3 hours of camp on Crystal we were approaching Siderock Lake.

The wind was picking up and we wasted no time powering our way onto the large lake. We chatted with a couple of local fishermen in their motorboat before continuing to the outflow of the Wanipigow towards Wallace. We didn’t even consider the 1.2km portage – we wanted to take advantage of the high water and paddling with the current. There were no surprises as we paddled under a brilliant blue, early summer sky with gusty wind in our faces along the reed-lined shores of the Wanipigow into Wallace Lake.

Predictably there were whitecaps as we exited the river onto the lake. We donned life jackets and set off on our last hard paddle! It was still only 10:30, we were making much better time on exit than we did on approach. I’m not gonna lie. The next half hour was hard paddling into a stiff wind and 2 foot rollers. As always, it was a bittersweet moment when we hit calm water just before docking at the boat launch in warm sun. Any hint of the strong winds on the lake behind us died out and for the first time in a few days we actually felt warm.

Somewhat ironically, we ran into the first other canoeists of the entire trip at the Wallace Lake boat launch. A large group was heading out for a month long trip to the Pigeon River with their guides. Looking at their fresh, unburned, unscared faces and arms, KC and I shared a smile. They were in for a ride! Lucky them. Despite feeling great about being done our trip, I was also more than a little envious of these young folks with their boundless energy and enthusiasm just starting their own adventure.

Epilogue

Here I sit, months later, writing up this trip report. Calgary is getting its first snow storms of the winter season and it’s -15 degrees outside my office window. I’m already planning another WCPP trip for 2025, hoping to go with Hanneke as a celebration of our 50th birthdays. It’s so strange, sitting here reviewing photos, video and journal entries months later. As usual, the rough edges of the trip have worn off and now I feel a deep longing to go back there.

Despite the ticks, wind, waves, rain and cold – the wild always calls me back. I even did another trip in 2024 to WCPP only 6 weeks after this one. Wouldn’t you know it – the main challenge with that trip was brutally hot temperatures. At least we were with the wind for the most part that time. 😉 That trip had other challenges too, which I’ll write about here soon.

Woodland Caribou Provincial Park is a special place for me. Despite obvious challenges traveling through an area that has been transformed and disfigured by so much wildfire over the past decade, it is still a paddler’s paradise. Small creeks wind their way through cozy, sheltered canyons between hard granite walls of ancient stone. Rivers gurgle and bubble their way over rocks below, culminating in violent rapids and waterfalls. Innumerable freshwater lakes stretch out endlessly in front of lone travellers, bobbing in their small canoe on top of shimmering whitecaps beside glass smooth sheltered bays. Songbirds serenade in a vast forest that clings impossibly to some of the oldest rock on the planet. Where the trees are still alive, a subtle canvas of green moss lies in deep shadow with yellow, white, pink and red flowers adding some welcome cheer.

Bald eagles and turkey vultures circle high above while gulls and terns dive fearlessly into the shimmering waters below. Caribou, moose, wolves and bear stride through the shadows – only the lucky few spot them along their journeys. Beaver, otter, squirrels and even woodchucks busy themselves preparing for a harsh winter that is always looming close ahead, no matter the time of year. Fish cruise the deeps and swirl along the shallows searching for an easy snack, while loons, ducks, swans and geese compete for prime real estate to raise their young on the surface. Frogs, toads and other creatures of the swamp add their voices to the fray – drowning out the forbidding drone of billions of mosquitoes nearby. Colorful butterflies and dragonflies dip and swoop their relentless, seemingly random loops around our heads as we marvel at how lucky we are to be here.

I’ll be back.

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