Friday, May 12: Last Day Hanging-out On White Partridge
It rained like crazy through the night. I was surprised to see the gang up around 6:30 am. It was still warm .. around 12°c at 8:00 am. The wind was starting to pick up early. After breakfast and some instant coffee, Dogbyte and I decided to go for a walk up the 2200 meter portage to Partridge Creek. We grabbed our fishing rods, hoping to try some fishing in the “crik” as I pronounce it. We jumped in my canoe to get around the creek to start the portage. By 9:00 am we were heading up the trail, alongside the creek. The trail heads steeply to the top of a ridge and then flattens out.
This is Partridge Creek, about 200 meters from the lake.
The portage had many downfalls clogging the way. If we had been making a real portage, this route would have been brutal! It was hard enough with only a small pack and no canoe. Before this trip, I'd been thinking of sometime making a loop through this area. Boy, I’m glad I didn’t! Some or most of the portage follows some old logging road. After 200 meters or so, the portage breaks away from the creek and clips some open marshes allowing you to almost see the creek. We walked all the way to the end before seeing the creek again. We then back tracked a few hundred meters, turnrd down an old road and followed what remains of a bridge. All that is left is the cement footings and one steel I- beam. Except where is the other?
Dogbyte at the creek.
Beautiful open area of the creek, south of the old bridge.
South side of the old bridge, it opens up.
We both thought we could end our streak of bad luck with fishing. Well, I did get a perch and Dogbyte got a nibble at some point. We got our lures loaded up with worms and started to cast about. We went up and down the creek, setting our lures in spots that looked like a sure thing. We both had some hits, but could not produce squat.
“Where the heck are the fish?”
When we were low down, away from the breeze, the black flies would be out buzzing around in no time. Luckily, we'd brought head nets. The black flies were not biting, but were annoying for sure. It rained on and off and the tempreature approached 16°c at noon. After an hour or so, we headed back to camp. I really enjoyed the walk and just being out-and-about, even though it was raining and we still had no fish. “I’m in Algonquin, how could it be bad!”
When we got back to the canoe, we made a quick two minute paddle back to camp. Dogbyte looked back from the bow at one point and said, “don’t mind me if I help steer the canoe.” It would be great tripping with him, especially in a twisty creek. While we were unsuccessful at fishing, Preacher got another lake trout on White Partridge.
I’m going to quote Dogbyte on one of his Algonquin Adventures forum posts after our trip. Here it is ...
“Upon returning, we were shocked and surprised to discover a tent city had popped up. Our population had grown from six to something around twenty-five people. Later when Stewart (our wagonmasterr) returned with his team of horses, there were 8 horses in 4 teams. It started to have some kind of mini Calgary Stampede feeling about it (no, never did see any Rodeo Clowns). After a quiet week in the park, it was a bit dis-orientating.”
Bo did tell us to be prepared for more people to come in for the weekend. Boy, was he not kidding! We had guys setting up tents right beside us, close in my standard. Even a few trucks parked in the meadow. Native status card holders are allowed to come down the cart trail in motorized vehicles.
We made lunch. Afterwards, I thought I'd lie down and rest. There was too much commotion going on for me to sleep. I came out of the tent to hear power drills driving screws for their home-made shelters.
The sun peeped out once in a while. Sheila got to ride a horse around the meadow. One group used the horses to pull out logs for firewood. Bo knew many of the fishermen that came. I must say they were all very friendly.
Stewart had told us of some old vehicles that were left from old logging days and a farm around the corner from the meadow. Markus, Dogbyte and I walked down the cart trail looking for the remains at about 2:00 pm. Dogbyte and I were still armed with bug nets, Markus was not. When we walked into the forest, protected from the wind, the black flies attacked. Down come the nets from our heads. Markus was swatting at the buggers. We found some old trucks, a tank like vehicle, drums and such. We took some pictures and then Markus said “I've had enough of these flies” and took off back to camp.
Remains from the old logging days.
Dogbyte and I walked around a little longer to see what we could find. When we got back to camp, we chatted with our new neighbours.
Our new neighbours' horses.
Sheila having some fun.
Markus was going for a swim to freshen up. Yep, we heard him yell again! I'd also had a quick dip earlier and the water was still cold indeed. Derek took off in his canoe to get some peace and quiet. I walked around and decided what to do. A half hour later (4:30 pm) I did the same thing. I felt confident enough in my canoe to go solo in the wind. I was careful to stay closer to shore. I didn't want to get blown across the lake.
On the lake, near the corner campsite I checked out.
There was about three power boats trolling about. I figured they could help me if I got in trouble. I went to a corner campsite by a small island only 900 meters away. It wasn't a site I'd recommend at all. It was small and had dark surroundings. I walked along the shore to the next site. It was much nicer. I saw Dogbyte out drifting along shore. I walked back to the first campsite and tried to light a small fire and started to read a book. In the distance I could still hear the “Stampede” going on. After a half hour, Dogbyte came by and shouted he got one! It was a nice 20 inch Lake Trout! He said, “Let’s cook it up.”
Dogbyte’s laker. Nice fish!
Well, I had to get a picture as well!
My fire was dead now. I got inspired to try to land one before we left the next morning. I asked Dogbyte where he got it and I took off to find one. But, not before we took some pictures. I drifted back and forth a few times and then got fed up. I can only fish for a short time before I get all antsy, unless they are biting of course! I paddled farther away from shore, to test my abilities in the wind. I had to “dig in” a few times to keep the bow from spinning on me. I saw Dogbyte in the distance, also headed back to camp. We both paddled hard back to shore. He would be great to hook up with, to do an Adventure Race. Dogbyte was in fact entering a race event Sunday morning, the day after getting home.
By 6:30 pm, we were back at camp and preparing some chow. Bo and Sheila were joining the new group for a spaghetti supper. We were also invited, but I just cooked up some bannock and rice. The fisherman had come back from the lake and had several trout to clean up in the rain.
Our neighbours' late afternoons catch.
The fishermen had been kind enough to bring us over some firewood. The group beside us were cooking up their fish in a deep fryer. They were kind enough to share a plate of fish with us! Thanks guys. I think they knew that we felt like they intruded our space, even though they didn't really. A few of us just like less people around. I do anyways. The night continued to rain on and off. We went over to the large group and listened-in on their stories of the park. They were having a great time and Bo was singing with the group. After a while, I sneaked back to our fire. I was not alone long. Markus, Preacher and Dogbyte were soon back. Bo and Sheila came back a few times to have drinks with us. We stayed up until 11:00 pm for our last night in the park.
Stewart, Preacher, Dogbyte and Markus.
Markus, Dogbyte and Preacher.