A few weeks ago, I decided to schedule a couple days off from work at the end of April for a solo camping trip. My camping and paddling season had been cut short last fall with a neck injury, so I was anxious to get out into the woods again and to try out some new gear. I had a few places in mind, but l left the destination open until I could see how the weather was shaping up. As the time approached, the forecast wasn’t looking so good (windy and a high chance of rain), so I decided to stay closer to home and go to an area where I could paddle if the weather was OK, but wouldn’t have to paddle too far if conditions were bad.
Peshtigo River State Forest is about an hour and a half northwest of Green Bay, and borders the southeast section of the Chequamegon-Nicolet National Forest. “Twenty five miles of river, 3,200 acres of water and 9,200 acres of forest await you on the Peshtigo River State Forest, the natural gem of Marinette County. Established in 2001, the property is Wisconsin's newest state forest.”
I chose a site at the eastern end of the Caldron Falls flowage, on the tip of a small peninsula that forms the entrance to Crane Bay. With the forecast for moderate levels of wind, I figured it would be better to stay in the narrower end of the flowage, and avoid the bigger open water.
http://dnr.wi.gov/topic/StateForests...s/property.pdf
Thursday morning, I was up early to pack up my gear and take the dog to the kennel. The weather forecast was now calling for rain all day, turning to snow in the afternoon. Not what I wanted to hear. I debated waiting another day and heading out Friday morning, but I also wasn’t sure if I was even going to stay through Saturday night since the forecast for Sunday was not good either. I decided that wet snow wouldn’t be much different than cold rain. It was supposed to wind down by mid-late afternoon, so I took my time packing up and finally headed out around 1:00 pm.
When I was about 20 minutes away from the State Forest office, a few stray snowflakes began to appear in the rain. By the time I arrived to register for camping, it was a steady snowfall that would continue for the next 4 hours or so, and then intermittently throughout the night and next morning. Fortunately, it wasn’t cold enough for any of it to accumulate on the ground.
Given the snowy conditions and moderate wind, I chose to set out to my site from the closest boat landing (about a mile to the site), rather than take a longer, more scenic route. It was a little surreal to be canoeing through snowfall, but the water was relatively calm and it felt good to be alone with only the sound of the paddle dipping in and out of the river. As I rounded the bend to approach Crane Bay, I was greeted by a pair of loons bobbing in the water. They didn’t seem bothered by the snow, or by my presence, as I paddled past them to my site. Other seasonal residents of that bay and peninsula were a bald eagle, osprey, trumpeter swan, beaver, kingfisher, sandhill cranes, Canada geese, and five or six varieties of ducks. Although I didn’t see any, I also heard coyotes in the distance at night – one time sounded like they couldn’t be more than 100 yards away.
I must have been the first one to use the site since fall, as I had to clean up a lot of branches on the ground, not to mention a few spent shotgun shells. First thing I set up was my 12 x 12 tarp, and then I piled all my gear and dry bags on the table under the tarp, as it was still snowing. I hung a rope for my food and garbage, and then I was able to gather enough wood around the site to get a fire going. I didn’t bother “cooking” anything for dinner because I didn’t want to bother with cleanup, so I settled for some jerky, trail mix, and a couple of beers while I relaxed by the fire. Once there was a break in the snow, I put up my tent and unpacked my sleeping bag and mat inside. I stayed plenty warm enough overnight, but I was reminded of how much I hate being zipped up in a mummy bag! I had borrowed a bigger, thicker sleeping mat from my better half to keep me insulated from the ground. I usually make fun of its size, but it came in handy on below-freezing nights.
Friday morning was still overcast, windy, and cold, with an occasional light snow shower. The high temp for the day was supposed to be low 50s, but at 11:30 there were still beads of ice on top of my tarp. It seemed to take forever to heat up the frigid water for some coffee and oatmeal, and fumbling with gloves didn’t speed up the process. After a quick breakfast, I warmed up quickly by gathering, cutting, and splitting some firewood. It’s a task I usually enjoy, anyway, and it certainly gets the circulation going.
About noon on Friday I decided to go out for some paddling. It was still cold and moderately windy, but the water looked relatively calm. I had a new double-bladed paddle with me that I wanted to try out and the conditions seemed good for that. I started off heading into the wind on the bay, and I was surprised at how much speed I was able to maintain with the double blade. I am sure my technique could use some refinement, but it was a very effective tool for heading into the wind. I paddled into the end of the bay, and once it became shallow and full of tree stumps I switched back to my regular paddle and slowly explored the area filled with nesting waterfowl and a large beaver lodge. After a while I headed back to the other end of the bay, paddled out into more open water for a while and then up river so that I could try out the double blade in different environments. I went up on shore in a small inlet and hiked to the top of a rocky ridge, taking in the view through the bare trees.
I returned to the campsite mid-late afternoon, and the sky gradually began to clear into the evening. The was the only clear night of my trip, and once it became dark, the thousands and thousands of stars were a pretty good light show.
Saturday morning did not seem as cold, but the wind had shifted and was now blowing straight down the length of the bay and into my campsite. According to my NOAA radio the wind speeds were only 10-15 mph, same as the day before, but it sure seemed much higher than that. I made some adjustments to my tarp, and set up a wind screen along the edge of the site. The surface of the water looked a little rougher on the bay this morning, but I decided to head out test the conditions. I wanted a little more firewood, and I recalled seeing a debarked and perfectly gray maple tree down near the shore of the inlet I had pulled into the day before, so I decided to head back there if the paddling wasn’t too bad. I launched the canoe into the bay, and the wind was blowing strong at my back. As soon as I made it to the entrance of the bay, however, the waves disappeared and that wind seemed to have almost no effect on the open water. I paddled to the inlet, harvested a few sections of the maple tree, and carted it back to my site. As I approached the bay, once again the wind and waves increased.
The weather forecast was calling for stronger winds on Sunday and 60% chance of rain, but only 30% chance in the morning hours, so I decided to stick it out for the last night and head home on Sunday. I was up early to start packing up, and the wind didn’t seem too bad. The water on the bay looked calmer, too. What I didn’t realize yet was that the wind speeds were actually stronger and had shifted direction, so I wasn’t feeling the effect of it as much from my position.
I packed up all my gear and then loaded my canoe, putting my heaviest bags in back since the wind would be blowing behind me. As I paddled out of the bay, and into the open section of water, I was planning to paddle at about a 45 degree angle to the direction of the wind and waves. The wind and waves, however, had a different plan. When I tried to turn the canoe to the right to make that angle, the wind kept blowing me parallel to the waves, which is not at all where I wanted to be! No matter how hard I paddled on the left, the canoe would not turn to my right. I even tried a few forward sweep strokes, to no effect. So instead of heading at my planned 45 degree angle, I could only paddle straight across with the waves and wind hitting me broadside. It was very uncomfortable to feel like I had no control of the canoe. As I got closer to the opposite shore, I was able to plant my paddle in the water on my right, as a brake and rudder, turning the bow enough to get headed in the right direction. From there I stayed close to shore, with the wind and waves pushing at me from behind the rest of the way to the boat launch.
I was glad to be on land again. I loaded all my gear into the car and strapped the canoe on top for the trip home. At just about the spot it had started to snow on my way in, the rain started and continued for the rest of the drive home.
Sorry for the lack of pictures. I didn’t take a camera with me, so I have just a couple shots from my not-so-smart phone.
Peshtigo River State Forest is about an hour and a half northwest of Green Bay, and borders the southeast section of the Chequamegon-Nicolet National Forest. “Twenty five miles of river, 3,200 acres of water and 9,200 acres of forest await you on the Peshtigo River State Forest, the natural gem of Marinette County. Established in 2001, the property is Wisconsin's newest state forest.”
I chose a site at the eastern end of the Caldron Falls flowage, on the tip of a small peninsula that forms the entrance to Crane Bay. With the forecast for moderate levels of wind, I figured it would be better to stay in the narrower end of the flowage, and avoid the bigger open water.
http://dnr.wi.gov/topic/StateForests...s/property.pdf
Thursday morning, I was up early to pack up my gear and take the dog to the kennel. The weather forecast was now calling for rain all day, turning to snow in the afternoon. Not what I wanted to hear. I debated waiting another day and heading out Friday morning, but I also wasn’t sure if I was even going to stay through Saturday night since the forecast for Sunday was not good either. I decided that wet snow wouldn’t be much different than cold rain. It was supposed to wind down by mid-late afternoon, so I took my time packing up and finally headed out around 1:00 pm.
When I was about 20 minutes away from the State Forest office, a few stray snowflakes began to appear in the rain. By the time I arrived to register for camping, it was a steady snowfall that would continue for the next 4 hours or so, and then intermittently throughout the night and next morning. Fortunately, it wasn’t cold enough for any of it to accumulate on the ground.
Given the snowy conditions and moderate wind, I chose to set out to my site from the closest boat landing (about a mile to the site), rather than take a longer, more scenic route. It was a little surreal to be canoeing through snowfall, but the water was relatively calm and it felt good to be alone with only the sound of the paddle dipping in and out of the river. As I rounded the bend to approach Crane Bay, I was greeted by a pair of loons bobbing in the water. They didn’t seem bothered by the snow, or by my presence, as I paddled past them to my site. Other seasonal residents of that bay and peninsula were a bald eagle, osprey, trumpeter swan, beaver, kingfisher, sandhill cranes, Canada geese, and five or six varieties of ducks. Although I didn’t see any, I also heard coyotes in the distance at night – one time sounded like they couldn’t be more than 100 yards away.
I must have been the first one to use the site since fall, as I had to clean up a lot of branches on the ground, not to mention a few spent shotgun shells. First thing I set up was my 12 x 12 tarp, and then I piled all my gear and dry bags on the table under the tarp, as it was still snowing. I hung a rope for my food and garbage, and then I was able to gather enough wood around the site to get a fire going. I didn’t bother “cooking” anything for dinner because I didn’t want to bother with cleanup, so I settled for some jerky, trail mix, and a couple of beers while I relaxed by the fire. Once there was a break in the snow, I put up my tent and unpacked my sleeping bag and mat inside. I stayed plenty warm enough overnight, but I was reminded of how much I hate being zipped up in a mummy bag! I had borrowed a bigger, thicker sleeping mat from my better half to keep me insulated from the ground. I usually make fun of its size, but it came in handy on below-freezing nights.
Friday morning was still overcast, windy, and cold, with an occasional light snow shower. The high temp for the day was supposed to be low 50s, but at 11:30 there were still beads of ice on top of my tarp. It seemed to take forever to heat up the frigid water for some coffee and oatmeal, and fumbling with gloves didn’t speed up the process. After a quick breakfast, I warmed up quickly by gathering, cutting, and splitting some firewood. It’s a task I usually enjoy, anyway, and it certainly gets the circulation going.
About noon on Friday I decided to go out for some paddling. It was still cold and moderately windy, but the water looked relatively calm. I had a new double-bladed paddle with me that I wanted to try out and the conditions seemed good for that. I started off heading into the wind on the bay, and I was surprised at how much speed I was able to maintain with the double blade. I am sure my technique could use some refinement, but it was a very effective tool for heading into the wind. I paddled into the end of the bay, and once it became shallow and full of tree stumps I switched back to my regular paddle and slowly explored the area filled with nesting waterfowl and a large beaver lodge. After a while I headed back to the other end of the bay, paddled out into more open water for a while and then up river so that I could try out the double blade in different environments. I went up on shore in a small inlet and hiked to the top of a rocky ridge, taking in the view through the bare trees.
I returned to the campsite mid-late afternoon, and the sky gradually began to clear into the evening. The was the only clear night of my trip, and once it became dark, the thousands and thousands of stars were a pretty good light show.
Saturday morning did not seem as cold, but the wind had shifted and was now blowing straight down the length of the bay and into my campsite. According to my NOAA radio the wind speeds were only 10-15 mph, same as the day before, but it sure seemed much higher than that. I made some adjustments to my tarp, and set up a wind screen along the edge of the site. The surface of the water looked a little rougher on the bay this morning, but I decided to head out test the conditions. I wanted a little more firewood, and I recalled seeing a debarked and perfectly gray maple tree down near the shore of the inlet I had pulled into the day before, so I decided to head back there if the paddling wasn’t too bad. I launched the canoe into the bay, and the wind was blowing strong at my back. As soon as I made it to the entrance of the bay, however, the waves disappeared and that wind seemed to have almost no effect on the open water. I paddled to the inlet, harvested a few sections of the maple tree, and carted it back to my site. As I approached the bay, once again the wind and waves increased.
The weather forecast was calling for stronger winds on Sunday and 60% chance of rain, but only 30% chance in the morning hours, so I decided to stick it out for the last night and head home on Sunday. I was up early to start packing up, and the wind didn’t seem too bad. The water on the bay looked calmer, too. What I didn’t realize yet was that the wind speeds were actually stronger and had shifted direction, so I wasn’t feeling the effect of it as much from my position.
I packed up all my gear and then loaded my canoe, putting my heaviest bags in back since the wind would be blowing behind me. As I paddled out of the bay, and into the open section of water, I was planning to paddle at about a 45 degree angle to the direction of the wind and waves. The wind and waves, however, had a different plan. When I tried to turn the canoe to the right to make that angle, the wind kept blowing me parallel to the waves, which is not at all where I wanted to be! No matter how hard I paddled on the left, the canoe would not turn to my right. I even tried a few forward sweep strokes, to no effect. So instead of heading at my planned 45 degree angle, I could only paddle straight across with the waves and wind hitting me broadside. It was very uncomfortable to feel like I had no control of the canoe. As I got closer to the opposite shore, I was able to plant my paddle in the water on my right, as a brake and rudder, turning the bow enough to get headed in the right direction. From there I stayed close to shore, with the wind and waves pushing at me from behind the rest of the way to the boat launch.
I was glad to be on land again. I loaded all my gear into the car and strapped the canoe on top for the trip home. At just about the spot it had started to snow on my way in, the rain started and continued for the rest of the drive home.
Sorry for the lack of pictures. I didn’t take a camera with me, so I have just a couple shots from my not-so-smart phone.
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Do you use a true solo canoe or sit backwards in a tandem? I've run into that hopeless turning into the wind on my tandem paddling solo and find that getting on my knees into the middle works for better leverage in sticky situations. Never tried a double blade like you did - might have to give that a go.
