Chapter 3

One thing we learned that first full day- the most modern technology; GPS, satellite and aerial photos are not a lot of help in finding one particular little channel in a swampy bay full of little channels, all pretty much running in the right general direction.

We were sure we were in the right bay by GPS, but the opening to the portage away from the lake and over a little saddle to the headwaters of the Nissipinissi had eluded us all morning.

"Well Jeff", I said, as I wiped the sweat (and a few mosquitoes) off my face, "I don't think we're going to find this place from the water. I say we land, mark the canoe with a waypoint on the GPS and bushwhack inland til we find either the trail, or the saddle."

"I agree- we can't get any perspective here, and we can't even get high enough to see the rise of the land over those trees. We can fart around here all day!" With that, he pulled the stern around and aimed for the nearest, broadest channel. We managed to paddle another hundred yards or so until we ran out of water. Jumping out, we dragged the canoe through low, scrubby dead reeds until we grounded on a slightly mushy shoreline. We marked the spot on both GPS's and worked out a compass bearing that should take us in the right direction. As another precaution, I found a fairly dead spruce trunk and tied a couple feet of bright orange surveyor's tape to it. Shoving the end into the muck gave us a pretty decent marker.

"Ok, buddy- let's go see the Wizard" Jeff said, as he hummed a few bars of "Follow the Yellow Brick Road".

I laughed "OK, but let's get out the day packs and carry some lunch and our emergency stuff. We're a long-ass way from anyplace!"

"Yeah, can't be too careful!" We both rooted around and loaded the small packs with some bug dope, rations, emergency kits, maps and navigation stuff and the emergency beacon.

I pulled my compass out, set the declination, and picked the best landmark I could find in that direction- a split spruce tree with a distinctive top, and off we went. The woods grew pretty close to the shore, and we were in the trees pretty quickly. I tied some surveyor's tape to mark our path even so often. Eventually we got into some slightly taller, more open stuff, and we could notice the ground begin to rise a bit.

"I think we're headed in the right direction, at least. I'd hate to have to bushwhack the boat through here, though", Jeff mused.

"Yeah, we could do it, but it would be a hassle. I think we ought to try to keep going to where the ground breaks, and then turn ninety degrees and try to cut the trail. Let me check the GPS to see how much we've risen."

I turned it on and found that we'd risen about eight feet. By the contour lines on the topo, it looked like we needed to gain somewhere between forty and fifty feet before we started to descend. The trough was pretty broad – almost a quarter mile, and really was nothing more than a very shallow notch, probably not more than twenty to thirty feet lower than the rest of the so-called ridge.

After checking our heading again, we headed up the shallow incline until it finally levelled out maybe a half mile from the lake.

"Well, this looks like its about as high as we're going to get for a while", I said. "I think we ought to each take some surveyor's tape and walk one hundred paces perpendicular to this heading, marking our path and try to cut a trail. Nothing says it has to be close to the center of the trough anyhow."

"Yeah, if we don't find anything in one hundred paces, we can alternate sides. I don't want to get separated too much. Let's set a waypoint here and meet back here in a half-hour at most", Jeff advised.

"Good idea. If either of us finds anything, give two long blows on the emergency whistle. If you get into trouble, give three short blows. The other one will answer with whatever call he hears. Does that make sense?"

"Yep. In any event, after one hundred paces, we mark the spot, waypoint it, and return here."

"Gotcha! Be careful, guy."

"Always careful, Buddy, always careful", he said, turning and heading off into the dim woods.

I turned as well and began counting paces, marking my path every now and then. It was hard to bushwhack a straight line, but I did my best. After one hundred sweaty paces, the woods looked exactly the same as that had before. I marked the point with tape and GPS and started back, a little discouraged. Maybe we'd just have to pioneer our way across.

Jeff and I met up a little to one side of where we'd started.

"Well, that was a bust", he said disgustedly. "I guess we're going to have to break trail across here. What a pain in the ass! I'm beginning to think that trail is nothing but a legend!"