Although I described the canoe as beautiful, the sleek lines and speed came at the cost of forgiveness. This canoe was one for hijinks. After the first portage, I waded out with the canoe, lifted one sandaled foot out of the water, shook the water out and stepped into the canoe. Mostly in the canoe, I shook the other foot, still hanging over the side… and rolled! I hopped out so the canoe was only a third full of water but I was in belly deep water and my camera was in my shorts pocket. I raced ashore and opened the camera up, took out the battery and all that, then set it on a rock while I tended to the rest of my gear. By Wednesday evening, it had dried enough to take acceptable shots again. Basically, there are no pics until the last day of the trip.
I had planned to paddle (and portage) to Misty Lake and the clerk at the Park Office in Kearney remarked that it was a beautiful place but after the drive and the paddling and portaging, I had only made it to Little Misty by 5:15 and chose not to do the final portage and just camp there. The site was great and involved 935 metres less canoe-and-gear carrying.
During some downtime, I carved two clothespins for the drying line, a spoon and a spatula.
Each of the three days had their best weather in the afternoon with the mornings being warm enough but ranging to dark and threatening to full downpour.
For the Big Hominid, some unidentified scat with remarkable fungal growth I had to step over during a portage.
I’m glad I traveled solo and I felt comfortable doing so but this is the sort of trip that I won’t really enjoy until more time has passed. It will feel better in hindsight.