Even the juvenile delinquents are polite in Canada. Dave (in photo) and Tim picked up the campers at Winnipeg airport. While inside someone "tagged" canoe 79 with graffiti. Chad courteously did his dirty deed with washable rubber cement.

 

Photo: Tim Nicholson

Tim's Log 

On June 23, Dave and I headed down the lake and packed up the trailer for the long trip west. After turning down several offers of Petro Points and gravy from those who service the Trans-Canada Highway, we made it to Winnipeg on the twenty-fifth, and promptly picked up the men the next day at the airport.  That evening we slept under a huge statue of a sharp-tailed grouse in Ashern, Manitoba on the Canadian prairies.

Arriving in Thompson, “the hub of the north,” we dropped our re-outfit with the float-plane service and met up with Jack Crolly of North River Outfitters.

By the evening of June 28, we stood on the north shore of the Nelson River just below Sea River Falls at the cable-ferry crossing.  The cable ferry runs all the time, servicing the people of Norway House, 30 kilometers to the south.  Jack left us as menacing, gray clouds came in from the east.

Put-in at the car ferry across the Nelson River.

 

 

Photo: Tim Nicholson

The weather in this part of the world is generally good with almost-constant polar high pressure, keeping rain and cold out.  The exception to this is the occasional east wind, blowing oceanic weather from the Bay.  We would understand what the Bay could deliver during the first couple of days.

Despite the weather, we set off onto the big “Sea River” in the morning.   Although we were on just one channel of the river, this part of the Nelson is a tribute to its enormous power and size.  Although not terribly long, it is one of the biggest rivers in the world.  The section we traveled on that morning is considered flat, although we felt the pull of the heavy current.   One hour into the cold gray morning, a huge bull moose charged across a shallow section between an island that the shore.  I considered it a good sign.

Although we were in awe of the Nelson, I was happy to pull into camp at its confluence with the Echimamish River.  The Nelson is incredible, but the multiple slash marks and “danger” written on the map for the section just downstream, showed it is no place for a Keewaydin section.  Camp was also welcome due to the pelting rain that I was concerned would hound us all summer.  How wrong I would be about that.  

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