For the annual “Save the Moose Campaign”, we decided to go strictly by canoe this year. We put in at the headwaters of the Steel River. My buddy Rich and I got their first, around 2 on the Friday. We loaded up the canoes, had a drink and set out down the creek.
A 20 minute paddle brought us to the lake, where winds were blowing from the south at 30 k an hour and gusting to 50 k. This was Rich’s first solo trip, and we were both paddling big prospectors, but he was game for the challenge. We fought the headwinds all the way to the first port, with a few beer stops along the way. We dragged our canoes through the low water rapids around the port, and made camp at about 6:45. We had planned to be in camp by 5:30, and darkness was falling, so a quick use of the powersaw and some tent setting, and we were ready for the night.
We stayed up late, waiting for Dan and Rob, but by 11:00 we were convinced that they weren’t coming, and went to bed.
The next morning we were up early and got the rain tarp up, and prepared to hunt. I was running my 1933 Mosin and Rich had the old Northern Ontario standby, his 30-30.
We had had a pretty good sleep in the Atuk tent, but this trip made me decide that I was going to trade up for a Snowtrekker.
Just as we were getting ready to go after some moose, we heard an outboard motor. I looked out on the lake, and there was my buddy Rob in a 16 foot prospector with a motor mount and a little spinner, pulling my other buddy Dan in his prospector. This was a bit much, after we had paddled in during that big head wind. When they got to camp, turned out that they had made it onto the lake around 5:30, but decided to spend the night in the Graveyard at the south end. Pretty soon, multiple drinks were had and the guns were stashed for the day. We took off to the secret fishing spot and procured a piscine dinner.
Before
After
The next day dawned cold and clear, and we were all out on the water or in the bush early.
My buddy’s snowtrekker, makes me jelly, as the kids say.
Rich and I walked a port about a 1000 meters long, but didn’t see much moose sign. The water was extremely low in the river, making me wonder how we would get a moose out of there anyway.
Then I portaged a canoe into a little pond, and things were looking up. Lots of fresh sign. Lots of exploring, with good possibilities for a return trip, but no moose in the end. We caught a lot more fish and then relaxed for the evening. Just as it was getting dark, a bull started to call from the opposite shore, but with fading light and a 300 yard plus shot, the guns were hung up for the night. The moon came out, huge and bright.
Final night celebrations
It was supposed to rain on Monday, so we got up early and packed up. Well, fairly early, we were on the water before 11 AM. When we got to the rapids, we were quite happy to not have a moose, as it was a very difficult drag upstream. It had taken us 3 hours 45 minutes to get to the campsite from our truck, but on the way out, with no wind, we were back in just over 2 hours.
Dan, playing around in a canoe.
The boys, hauling upstream.
Although we were once again skunked, we all agreed that it was a fine trip, a nice four days in the bush, and we didn’t see another soul, extremely unusual for Northern Ontario during opening weekend. We’ll be back next year, hopefully to Faubert Lake, where we hope to become heretical members of PETA, and break our streak of moose saving.
A 20 minute paddle brought us to the lake, where winds were blowing from the south at 30 k an hour and gusting to 50 k. This was Rich’s first solo trip, and we were both paddling big prospectors, but he was game for the challenge. We fought the headwinds all the way to the first port, with a few beer stops along the way. We dragged our canoes through the low water rapids around the port, and made camp at about 6:45. We had planned to be in camp by 5:30, and darkness was falling, so a quick use of the powersaw and some tent setting, and we were ready for the night.
We stayed up late, waiting for Dan and Rob, but by 11:00 we were convinced that they weren’t coming, and went to bed.
The next morning we were up early and got the rain tarp up, and prepared to hunt. I was running my 1933 Mosin and Rich had the old Northern Ontario standby, his 30-30.
We had had a pretty good sleep in the Atuk tent, but this trip made me decide that I was going to trade up for a Snowtrekker.
Just as we were getting ready to go after some moose, we heard an outboard motor. I looked out on the lake, and there was my buddy Rob in a 16 foot prospector with a motor mount and a little spinner, pulling my other buddy Dan in his prospector. This was a bit much, after we had paddled in during that big head wind. When they got to camp, turned out that they had made it onto the lake around 5:30, but decided to spend the night in the Graveyard at the south end. Pretty soon, multiple drinks were had and the guns were stashed for the day. We took off to the secret fishing spot and procured a piscine dinner.
Before
After
The next day dawned cold and clear, and we were all out on the water or in the bush early.
My buddy’s snowtrekker, makes me jelly, as the kids say.
Rich and I walked a port about a 1000 meters long, but didn’t see much moose sign. The water was extremely low in the river, making me wonder how we would get a moose out of there anyway.
Then I portaged a canoe into a little pond, and things were looking up. Lots of fresh sign. Lots of exploring, with good possibilities for a return trip, but no moose in the end. We caught a lot more fish and then relaxed for the evening. Just as it was getting dark, a bull started to call from the opposite shore, but with fading light and a 300 yard plus shot, the guns were hung up for the night. The moon came out, huge and bright.
Final night celebrations
It was supposed to rain on Monday, so we got up early and packed up. Well, fairly early, we were on the water before 11 AM. When we got to the rapids, we were quite happy to not have a moose, as it was a very difficult drag upstream. It had taken us 3 hours 45 minutes to get to the campsite from our truck, but on the way out, with no wind, we were back in just over 2 hours.
Dan, playing around in a canoe.
The boys, hauling upstream.
Although we were once again skunked, we all agreed that it was a fine trip, a nice four days in the bush, and we didn’t see another soul, extremely unusual for Northern Ontario during opening weekend. We’ll be back next year, hopefully to Faubert Lake, where we hope to become heretical members of PETA, and break our streak of moose saving.
