>>1979973Me and the boys do an annual backcountry portage trip in some crown land near us. One year we decide to change it up and go to a different area in Muskoka.
We know the lakes we want to get to. We check satellite pics and maps and it looks like there are two ways to go.
One way is to portage from one lake to another. Pretty direct, but lot of walking, on a few long portages, which means packing lighter which means less beer.
Other way is a river that winds its way all over the fucking place until it gets to the lake we want.
Satellite pics show the river looking pretty good. Maps show it as navigable. Estimate maybe a 4 hour canoe trip.
Nope.
River starts navigable, but then drops down to like 4" of water, then just mud. There were long stretches of walking in knee deep mud dragging the canoes.
We expected a few beaver dams. Nope. At least 10. Tip one of the canoes trying to push up a small one. All gear soaked.
We expected a couple of narrows where we might have to lift the canoes up. Nope. At least four or five significant portages around rocky ravines, narrows, waterfalls.
We did not pack for this. Agony. By the end our arms were freezing up from carrying shit, and we couldn't straighten them.
Starts to get dark. Sun sets. Still nowhere near the lake. River is now passing through marshland, so nowhere to camp.
Panicking. Starting to look for where a helicopter could get in to pull us out.
Finally, reach the actual lake. Fully dark out. Paddle over to the first flattish spot we seen. Bugs are mental. Rush to make camp. Hang up wet shit.
This is our first break in 10 hours.
Make fire. Eat, have a couple of beers. Smoke a joint.
Finally the relief sets in. Pure joy. The next day was perfection. Ideal weather. Fish practically jumping into our pan. Everything hurt. Lots of relaxing on a private lake.
Now we go back every year. But we do that fucking portage.
