Ray and Jenny's Back River Odyssey

Day 8

July 23

We had pitched the tent with one end facing into the wind - which was from the north. During the night the wind switched to west. Long, narrow tents, such as this are not the best arrangements for the Arctic because they are not as strong with the wind blowing on them sideways. Something igloo-shaped would work better.

We spent the day storm-bound, taking advantage of the rest afforded. Did some reading, but mostly slept, on and off. Jenny braved the elements to get some drinking water, then to organize the food bags, etc. The wind was far too strong to cook, so we just snacked throughout the day. The wind is also cold and we wished we had brought a few more warm clothes, including rain pants and a heavier sleeping quilt.

Day 9

July 24

The wind ceased during the wee hours, but was starting to rise again when we set off at 7am. The morning was quite cold and so was the wind. We found a bit of current here and there, but mostly it was lake-like paddling. And once again, where the map showed river with sandy banks, we found narrow lakes with sandy bottoms. The river is obviously much higher than it was when the cartographers photographed it.

Tailwinds

Caribou on shore.

Caribou swimming across the river.

We started seeing caribou; and the further we went, the more we saw. Then just before the final set of rapids before Beechey Lake, a small group of twelve caribou swam across the river in front of us. These animals seem to like to swim. When they reached the other side they were in no hurry to get out. Nor were they in a hurry to cross, probably because they had young ones with them.

The first set of rapids before Beechey lake we lined on the right, and the second set we managed to run on the right also. By the time we reached Beechey Lake, itself, the wind was blowing half a gale. Fortunately it was from the southwest so we were able to keep the shore to windward. The morning seemed to grow colder as the wind strengthened, so we stopped to put on more clothes, including rain jackets. Rain fell sporadically throughout the day, and the approaching squalls were visible in the distance. A couple rain squalls started with hail.

All along Beechey Lake the wind was blowing strongly offshore, so we worked hard keeping the boat close to shore. Farther out, the waves were large and dangerous, and we certainly didn't want to get blown out there.

Shore break.

At 2 pm we pulled in to a quiet cove and regrettably disturbed a pair of ducks who were resting in the shelter of shoreline rocks. Landing ashore, In the lee of a rock Jenny fired up the stove, and we enjoyed hot cuppas and a round of corn spaghetti. We took the next rain squall covered in our tarp while eating the spaghetti, and this worked well, but we had to sit on part of the tarp to keep the wind from blowing it away.

All along the way we had seen lots of young geese, ducks and loons. As we sat there eating our meal, half a dozen chicks started to come in to the little cove, until they saw us and turned away. We felt that these chicks belonged to the two adults we had frightened away. We couldn't imagine why the chicks had gone out without their parents. We tried singing to some of the birds in the same way we do the deer and caribou. Sometimes this seemed to ease their fears, and they allowed us to get quite close.

We paddled for several more hours in strong wind, and then decided to take a shore break. But we couldn't turn the boat in to shore. The wind was holding the canoe broadside. We tacked back and forth a couple times until finally we managed to point the bow toward the shore. It felt odd because the shore was less than fifty feet away. We were a bit on the edge, paddling in wind this strong.

We paddled another hour and then pulled out at 6 pm across from the second of two large bays on the lake's far shore. I did some repair work on my shoes. They are falling apart at the seams, so I broke out the epoxy and tried to patch them back together, and coated all the stitching. The sun came out and the wind died. All in all it was a strenuous but beautiful day. So glad to be here experiencing this fantastic country. Plus we managed 40 miles today.

Camp 9

Camp 9, Beechey lake: Map

Day 10

July 25

The night was windless, and we set off at 8:30 am. Less than a minute later we saw a wolverine running along the shore; so we paralleled it for about fifteen minutes. It was fun watching it loping along. Every so often it would stop and sniff, or dig around in the tundra. The wolverine reminds us of a cross between a badger and a bear.

Wolverine

making the miles.

We crossed a number of bays and saw a few caribou, and lots of geese and other waterfowl.

We stopped for lunch on a nice gravel beach. It felt good to rest and lay down, especially with the wind keeping the bugs down, and the sun's warmth keeping us from getting chilled.

Unloading gear for the portage

Finally we reached the end of the lake at 12:30 pm, and began the one-and-half mile portage to avoid the rapids. We shouldered our pack loads and headed for a rock cairn, but found no trail and no more cairns after that. The tundra was covered thickly in calf-high willow bushes, and the ground was hummocky.

We reached the water's edge below the whitewater, and dropped our loads. Then hiked back for the second load. Walking close to the river wasn't practical due to thick willow brush. Jenny suggested we take a higher route to stay out of the brush and this route proved to be a much less difficult.

The McCreadie guide describes a "60-foot falls" at the outlet of this lake. There were no falls, at least this late in the season, only a long series of rapids concluding with a set of tumultuous cascades.

At one point we came across a pile of white fur, and a nearby head of a white fox, probably killed or died this past winter. Also we watched a lone seagull scouring the tundra for birds eggs probably. The gull flies low to the ground trying to startle small birds out of their nests.

By the time we had returned to the canoe with our second load, a south wind was blowing half a gale. A south wind is much warmer than a north wind. Still, it made carrying the canoe that much more difficult. I staggered along with Jenny hanging on to the stern to prevent the boat from weather-vanning. We took about five rests and finally made it down to our gear at water's edge. We loaded the boat and set off down river, reveling in the current which made for easier going.

Finishing the 1.5 mile portage around the rapids

Whenever floating a river like this, we make good use of our ears. Generally, the larger and more dangerous the rapids, the louder they are. Relying on the sound levels seems to be a better method of assessing the dangers. Invariably they appear smaller than they actually are, from upstream, and many times they have fooled us. Our policy is to scout before running, and this has saved us a number of times. What looks like a simple and straightforward run, from upriver, often proves to be formidable. But the noise always gives it away.

Caribou swimming across the river.

Along this stretch of the river we saw many caribou swimming across - a few here, a few there, a small herd, etc. At one point we saw a white wolf scouting the caribou. We also saw a number of siksiks on the bluffs. So we enjoyed quite the day of sighting wildlife.

The river widened into almost a lake, and headed east. While paddling along we were suddenly hit with a blast of wind, and within seconds the lake was covered in whitecaps. For the the next fifteen minutes we paddled hard for the windward shore. Sometimes these blows can just happen all of a sudden.

Despite the exertions of paddling headwinds, the morning had been cloudless and we reveled in the beauty of the land.

By late afternoon the thunderclouds were marching past, and we got some rain and lots of wind. We were tired from the day's exertions, and probably from the previous day's toil as well. So not wanting to battle strong winds any longer, we hauled up on a gravel bar at 5:30 pm and called it a day. We quickly pitched the tent in the shadow of the next ominous cloud headed our way.

We usually collect large, flat rocks to tie the tent to. One of the rocks from this gravel bar was grayish-green and almost twice as heavy as it should have been for its size. It would be interesting to learn its mineral content. 18 miles today.

Camp 10

Camp 10: Map

Day 11

July 26

The rain was heavy during the night, and the storm was just moving away as we were getting up. Set off into light headwinds at 8:30 am. The sun shown down sporadically, but the morning was cold and so was the wind.

We negotiated the first two sets of rapids by wading - meaning wet feet for the rest of the day. This was more of a problem today because of the cold temperatures. We shot a number of small rapids, nothing more than class-2 with a few stretches of standing waves that bounced the canoe and brought hull slapping back down on the water. It was quite interesting and fun, but there was not much room for error. The current swept us along at a good pace for about half the day. Then the river widened and slowed, and we paddled hard to keep the boat moving.

Sometimes you have to get your feet wet.

A cute caribou calf eyes us curiously.

Tall cliffs

Are we having fun yet?

Swimming across the river right in front of us.

It was quite the day of seeing wildlife. We came across numerous small groups of caribou, some swimming across the river in front of us, as well as numerous lone caribou. A white wolf ran along the bank a fair ways ahead of us, and much to our surprise, it decided to swim across the river in front of us. It got about half way across the river, but we were bearing down on it so it faced us defensively, and we started backpaddling. A large arctic wolf was not something we wished to tangle with. It swam back to the shore it had started from. We were calling to it, singing in our usual way, letting it know we were not a threat. It shook the water off itself and started trotting along the shore parallel to us. It wanted to cross the river because of the caribou on the other side. Some of them were watching the wolf carefully.

Vicious wolf or someone's lost doggie?

Caribou

About an hour later we saw a pair of wolves high on the bank. They watched us curiously for awhile. And then about an hour after that we saw one more wolf. This one was very large and a light gray in color. In addition to all the caribou and wolves, we also saw a lone muskox.

Carrying on, we saw a group of at least 1,000 caribou, running in a line across the skyline.

Caribou running across the skyline.

Fifteen minutes later we were paddling along and I was looking at a large patch of rock on the shoreline ahead. It drew my attention like a magnet. It was the strangest rock, with the most curious texture. Jenny was looking at the same rock and had the same impressions. And then we saw that the rock was moving, and as we paddled ever closer we realized we were looking at a huge herd of caribou, numbering in their thousands. They were on the hillside above the river and we paddled right up to them. They were more or less just standing around, resting and browsing. As we drew up to them, the ones closest to us moved away. I think the wolves had them on the alert, because they were a little skittish.

Blurry hillside

A large caribou was laying down - the only one doing so. I thought it was dead. And there were five or six others standing around it, tending to it somehow. When we moved in close, this "dead" caribou got up and moved away. It was interesting to think that whatever it's problem, the others were caring for it.

Tending to the sick one.

As we paddled away we saw another large section of the herd crossing the river far ahead of us. For much of the day the water we paddled was covered in caribou hair. The animals are probably shedding this time of year. There was also a ruddy-headed duck that appears to be molting right now, and flightless. Whenever we get near, these ducks take off across the river like motorboats. Some of the geese might be molting also. They are very skittish and we cannot get anywhere near them. We saw numerous siksiks along the banks, jaegers, terns, one eagle, a raven. We saw fish tails breaking the water's surface.

Sometimes you have to climb the hill and take it all in.

At 4 pm we stopped and climbed a high bank for a good look around and a bit of leg exercise.

6:30 pm we stopped to make camp on the right bank, on a tundra covered sand bank with lupine blooming nearby. We pitched the tent next to some "trees." These willows were six feet tall and growing in the sand. The bark and leaves have a grayish tinge. We've seen a lot of it on the sand banks, but very few this tall.

During the day the sky had become streaked with cirrus. After pitching the tent, Jenny heated water and we washed our hair and had sponge baths. Day's mileage: 45.

Camp 11 in the forest.

Camp 11: Map

Day 12

July 27

The rain held off during the night, but there was still dew on the tent fly in the morning. We set off at 8 am into chilly north headwinds. We had to negotiate a meandering channel among the sand banks, most of which was submerged, all the while the wind making paddling difficult. At one point we followed the channel directly into the wind for several hundred yards - very tough going, with a large chop - only to have the channel make a sharp U-turn and go back the other way. Reaching the windward shore we decided that it was too risky to go out into the "lake" again, and that if we couldn't follow the windward shore we would have to stop and make camp. Fortunately the channel followed the windward shore, or close enough, to the outlet of the lake.

More caribou

We worked downriver, upwind, and decided that the wind was too strong for us to safely negotiate any rapids. In wind this strong we had very little control over the boat. So in a couple of miles, just before the first of three marked rapids, we landed on the left shore and made camp somewhat protected from the wind by a hillside. We climbed the hillside behind camp and saw a group of muskoxen, thirty of them. There were half a dozen young ones full of energy, chasing each other around and running and romping just for the fun of it, it seemed to us, while the adults grazed placidly on the grasses and plants. They knew we were here, so they slowly ambled away downriver.

We decided to try our hand at fishing; this was after we had eaten much of our heavier food, lightening our portaging loads to more manageable proportions. I assembled the rod and reel and made a number of casts from the rocky shoreline into the swift current, not really expecting to catch anything at such an unlikely place. I showed Jenny how to cast, she made a nice cast and promptly snagged the lure on the bottom. A bit of rain was starting to fall so I cut the line and tied the end to a rock and we retreated into the tent for a long nap.

During the next break in the weather we hiked with the fishing pole downriver a couple hundred yards to a nice set of rapids and a rocky outcrop. On my second cast I felt a fish on the line. It took maybe five minutes to bring it to shore, and we landed a beautiful lake trout. I had hoped not to catch something too large, no more than what we could eat, and this fish was borderline. Surely a couple day's of good eating. I felt sorry for taking the fish's life, but we said a prayer of thanksgiving and to honor the life of the fish. The flesh was a beautiful orange color, like salmonberries, or cheddar cheese, or cantaloupe.

Nice fish for dinner.

We had to hurry back because the sky was spitting rain again. Jenny found a nice piece of driftwood she could us as as galley board, and she cut up the fish in from inside the tent in the protection the vestibule. The meat filled our pot. So even though we feel disappointed to be stormbound, this area has blessed us in many ways: with the fish, the muskox, and the three siksiks in the rocks above camp. The far bank is covered with a blue-violet swath of lupine.

Three siksiks above camp

Later in the evening, even though it was still raining hard, we got the stove going just outside the vestibule and boiled the fish, adding salt and some instant potatos. It was excellent. This was the first night that we can recall that the wind blew all night. Fortunately the rain stopped early morning, so our rain fly was nearly dry.

At 4 am Jenny awoke with a start to the sound of nearby grunts. She peered out the vestibule and saw a muskox not more than six feet from the tent. The muskox seemed curious about the tent, and perhaps about the fish odors too, because it was nosing at the cutting board and fish scraps. It galloped off when it heard Jenny's voice trying to wake me.

Muskoxen graze near our camp.

Camp 12: Map

Day 13

July 28

Still windy and the sky completely overcast. We decided to give it a try anyway. We set off at 9:30 am, and first retrieved the stuck fishing lure by paddling the canoe right over it. It pulled right out. Very soon we passed by our local herd of Muskoxen, and rounding the first bend we came to the first of four rapids. Each one was a major obstacle. We lined and waded on the right in all cases, following a well-blazed trail of green canoe scrapes on the rocks left by previous canoeists. Three or four times we had to sluice the canoe down a drop, otherwise the river was clear of obstacles - which was good because we had very little control in the wind which blew strongly from the north.

After negotiating the last of the rapids we went around a large island on its left side and scraped the bottom on a sand bar once, getting through. Judging by the water lines on shore, the river level has dropped about six feet and seems to be dropping a few inches every day. Our feet were cold because our shoes and socks were wet. So adjacent the Baillie River tributary we stopped ashore to change out of our wet socks. This meant that we had to put our dry socks back into our wet shoes.

From there we battled strong headwinds, staying close to the left banks to avoid the large waves and chop out in the current. Once I decided to steer out, in order to take advantage of the current, but that proved a mistake because the waves were much bigger than they appeared. So we crept along the shore at great effort for a couple miles.

Throughout the morning we had low clouds with some mist and rain. At 12:30 pm we pulled ashore, and landed in a cove with a sand beach in the back, just downwind of a large rock butte. We hauled all our things up the slope and made camp, then crawled into the tent with the next onslaught of rain. Made hot cuppas and heated our fish bouillabaisse for lunch.

Decreasing water levels are exposing vast sand bars.

Camp 13a: Map

After napping we noticed fresh wolf tracks in the cove, tracks that weren't there when we landed. Between rain bursts we wandered to the far side of the cove, and in the willow we found a hornet's (wasp) nest. It seemed unlikely up here, but we watched a wasp crawl out of it.

The wind started to calm, so we broke camp and set off. The wind piped up again, but at least we were moving. Gradually the wind reduced, so we made better progress. At times the rain and mist obscured the way ahead, but after a few hours the clouds began to lift and we were treated to a beautiful evening panorama. We stopped at 9:30 pm on the left bank, pitched a hasty camp in the rain and crawled in, wet. Hung all our clothes in the tent's overhead lines. 24 miles.

Camp 13b

Camp 13b: Map

Day 14

July 29

Woke up to our unwanted companion of late: headwinds. Set off at 8 am. Quite difficult paddling all day in strong headwinds. We could not take advantage of the current, much, because that's where the worst current-against-wind chop was. We stopped a few times to rest and eat, and appreciate the surrounds. Lunched sitting on a beautiful black rock polished by glaciers. There we huge sand bars blocking the way, requiring us to paddle around them. The Back River feels more like the Back Lake. Very wide and little current. We pulled ashore at 2:30 pm and made a temporary camp. Very tired, but still having a wonderful time.

Camp 14a: Map

Set off again at 8 pm. The wind had increased during the afternoon, but now was starting to slacken - just enough. We paddled in fading daylight, watching another storm system moving in from the east. This system was dropping rain in the distance with a rainbow in the brilliant sunset. The rainbow lasted a good half-an-hour. We paddled a long channel where the shore was inaccessible on both sides, glad to be doing this in less boisterous conditions.

At 10:30 pm we landed on the left bank, the wind now down to about 5 knots - just low enough for the thousands of frenetic mosquitoes and black flies. Before getting into the tent, we saw the full moon rise dramatically under the storm clouds. Once inside the tent, we worked for fifteen minutes obliterating the hundreds of flying insects that had followed us in. They are very adept at hiding in every nook and cranny. Day's total mileage: 31.

Camp 14b: Map