Neil
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This was one amazing 4 day trip into the Quebec wilderness. Not designated wilderness but a huge space where you can hang out and cruise around for days at a time without seeing a soul or even a track of someone else.
We found ourselves on a narrow dirt road about 3 hours out of Montreal at 7:30 am on a bright sunny morning. The temp was around neg. 6C and that gave us about 45 mins of hard work, chopping and digging a parking spot off the road for Dave’s van. By the time we were done my forearms were like jelly and I was soaked.
No matter, we had a 3-mile hike across some frozen lakes which would give our arms a rest before we had to saw, carry and chop our wood supply. The going across the frozen and snowless lakes was about as easy as it gets. We walked along at sidewalk speed towing sleds with 70 pounds of “supplies” aboard. We were able to drag them effortlessly, holding on with only one finger.
Pics 2-23
Getting to the cabin in record time, we dumped our packs, cut ourselves a wood supply and took off up the nearest “mountain”, a 250-foot hill at the north end of the lake, 1 km from the cabin. We dragged our snowshoes on the sleds until we got to the end of the lake. We jettisoned the sleds and headed off. The snow was unsupportive in the afternoon sun as we ascended the south-facing slope. There was lots of blowdown but nothing too horrendous and before too long we were soon standing atop the hill surveying the surrounding lakes and mountains.
Pics 34-69
This area has been our winter playground for the past 10 years. We go out once a year and “squat” in a log cabin that we found during one of our previous winter camping trips. It was raining one of those years so we decided to use the cabin and liked it so much that we use it every year now. There are many bumps and knobs and some of the hilltops have 500 feet of prominence. Lakes and streams abound and we never tire of roaming, exploring and climbing the hills. What used to be hard-core winter camping has given way to a softer option with music, good food, and plenty of fine wines and refreshing beer. Now we get a lot of ribbing from our friends about getting old and soft but only have a fraction of the wood to cut ‘n’ carry.
pics 48 plus 76-86
Back at the cabin, we grabbed our thermarests and a bottle of wine and settled in alongside the creek for some serious sunbathing and imbibing. Conversation was light and had something to do with how many litres of water per second were flowing down the creek. Once the shade hit us it was time to head indoors, light a fire, put some music on and…crack open a beer. We spent the next 4 or 5 hours listening to great music (classical, jazz, rock and folk) watching the darkness steal over the lake as our supper slowly cooked and a second bottle of wine sat breathing. By 9 we were nodding off which was a good thing because we had a busy day coming.
Pics 93-102
Cabin life pics: 105, 116, 121, 179, 181, 128
One of the many things I like about the cabin is waking up in the middle of the night and going outside to relieve myself. On this particular occasion the stars were out in full force. The sleeping bag was nice and warm and fuzzy to climb back into. At 6 am I was up, lighting the fire, drawing water from the creek, getting the bacon, oatmeal and coffee going while Dave luxuriated in his bunk. Before long the smells got him up and we knocked back our breakfast listening to Handle’s Water Music and discussed the potential hiking itineraries: Mt J? L?, Temple. Decisions decisions…
Given that in the early morning sub-freezing temperature the snow would we nicely crusted we opted to bushwhack up the ridge beside the cabin. Once on top we followed a series of rolling crests each separated by a drainage. Any southerly slopes required snowshoes but the crust supported barebooting which is what we decided to start off with.
Pics 124-145
Sure enough, the overnight low had put a firm, supportive crust on the snow and for the first hour we were able to bareboot. The snowshoes had to come on eventually however and were pretty well essential for the rest of the day. We had no specific goal in mind and made our plans as we went along. We had loads of fun exploiting Nessmuk’s map and compass stuff and spent more time than ever before with our compasses jammed against our sternums taking readings off of any big hill we could see. Dave thought it would be good if we could simply impale a compass directly into our breastbones.
Pics 146-149
The easy part was that there was almost always a prominent hill visible so we had a great time taking bearings and keeping track of our position. We determined our hike’s objectives as we tooled along and came out at a little lake with pinpoint accuracy. From there we decided to head north to Lake Lacordaire 2 kms away through the bush. Our route would take us 300 more vertical feet to the top of “Mt. Temple” and 400 feet down the other side. We reasoned that by the time we would get to the Lake the snow would be much too soft for bush travel. It was already too soft going due north up the mountain. Dave’s 36 inch shoes weren’t too bad but I had left mine at home and was wearing MSR’s with 4 inch tails added on. I broke through a lot. As soon as we hit the summit and proceeded down the north side we hit frozen crust again. But not before whipping out our compasses and setting a new bearing. The lake has a long narrow bay that projects south and we aimed ourselves about 50 meters north of the end in order to avoid missing it altogether. Once we dropped down we couldn’t see the lake and our route went through rolling country, beaver ponds and streams. Once again we came out at our predetermined objective with deadly accuracy. Off came the snowshoes and out onto the frozen expanse we strolled. The sun was baking hot. This lake has many arms interconnected by narrow channels and we planned on walking north, east and then south to within a km of the north end of “our” lake (Lac A). The central section is open and we could see many of the prominent hills in various directions. Out came the compasses…
Pics 158-176
Back at the cabin we repeated the previous day’s sunbathing but with a different wine. The evening resembled the previous one but with a completely different selection of music. Rubinstein playing Chopin sent shivers down my spine. I was able to abandon myself to the music and experience it totally, note by note, feeling the subtle shading, the tonal shifts, and rubato. Rubinstein was in Chopin’s mind and I was in both of their minds. To experience this I have to be at the cabin in candlelight lying on my bunk after a day of tramping through the bush.
Cont'd in part 2...
We found ourselves on a narrow dirt road about 3 hours out of Montreal at 7:30 am on a bright sunny morning. The temp was around neg. 6C and that gave us about 45 mins of hard work, chopping and digging a parking spot off the road for Dave’s van. By the time we were done my forearms were like jelly and I was soaked.
No matter, we had a 3-mile hike across some frozen lakes which would give our arms a rest before we had to saw, carry and chop our wood supply. The going across the frozen and snowless lakes was about as easy as it gets. We walked along at sidewalk speed towing sleds with 70 pounds of “supplies” aboard. We were able to drag them effortlessly, holding on with only one finger.
Pics 2-23
Getting to the cabin in record time, we dumped our packs, cut ourselves a wood supply and took off up the nearest “mountain”, a 250-foot hill at the north end of the lake, 1 km from the cabin. We dragged our snowshoes on the sleds until we got to the end of the lake. We jettisoned the sleds and headed off. The snow was unsupportive in the afternoon sun as we ascended the south-facing slope. There was lots of blowdown but nothing too horrendous and before too long we were soon standing atop the hill surveying the surrounding lakes and mountains.
Pics 34-69
This area has been our winter playground for the past 10 years. We go out once a year and “squat” in a log cabin that we found during one of our previous winter camping trips. It was raining one of those years so we decided to use the cabin and liked it so much that we use it every year now. There are many bumps and knobs and some of the hilltops have 500 feet of prominence. Lakes and streams abound and we never tire of roaming, exploring and climbing the hills. What used to be hard-core winter camping has given way to a softer option with music, good food, and plenty of fine wines and refreshing beer. Now we get a lot of ribbing from our friends about getting old and soft but only have a fraction of the wood to cut ‘n’ carry.
pics 48 plus 76-86
Back at the cabin, we grabbed our thermarests and a bottle of wine and settled in alongside the creek for some serious sunbathing and imbibing. Conversation was light and had something to do with how many litres of water per second were flowing down the creek. Once the shade hit us it was time to head indoors, light a fire, put some music on and…crack open a beer. We spent the next 4 or 5 hours listening to great music (classical, jazz, rock and folk) watching the darkness steal over the lake as our supper slowly cooked and a second bottle of wine sat breathing. By 9 we were nodding off which was a good thing because we had a busy day coming.
Pics 93-102
Cabin life pics: 105, 116, 121, 179, 181, 128
One of the many things I like about the cabin is waking up in the middle of the night and going outside to relieve myself. On this particular occasion the stars were out in full force. The sleeping bag was nice and warm and fuzzy to climb back into. At 6 am I was up, lighting the fire, drawing water from the creek, getting the bacon, oatmeal and coffee going while Dave luxuriated in his bunk. Before long the smells got him up and we knocked back our breakfast listening to Handle’s Water Music and discussed the potential hiking itineraries: Mt J? L?, Temple. Decisions decisions…
Given that in the early morning sub-freezing temperature the snow would we nicely crusted we opted to bushwhack up the ridge beside the cabin. Once on top we followed a series of rolling crests each separated by a drainage. Any southerly slopes required snowshoes but the crust supported barebooting which is what we decided to start off with.
Pics 124-145
Sure enough, the overnight low had put a firm, supportive crust on the snow and for the first hour we were able to bareboot. The snowshoes had to come on eventually however and were pretty well essential for the rest of the day. We had no specific goal in mind and made our plans as we went along. We had loads of fun exploiting Nessmuk’s map and compass stuff and spent more time than ever before with our compasses jammed against our sternums taking readings off of any big hill we could see. Dave thought it would be good if we could simply impale a compass directly into our breastbones.
Pics 146-149
The easy part was that there was almost always a prominent hill visible so we had a great time taking bearings and keeping track of our position. We determined our hike’s objectives as we tooled along and came out at a little lake with pinpoint accuracy. From there we decided to head north to Lake Lacordaire 2 kms away through the bush. Our route would take us 300 more vertical feet to the top of “Mt. Temple” and 400 feet down the other side. We reasoned that by the time we would get to the Lake the snow would be much too soft for bush travel. It was already too soft going due north up the mountain. Dave’s 36 inch shoes weren’t too bad but I had left mine at home and was wearing MSR’s with 4 inch tails added on. I broke through a lot. As soon as we hit the summit and proceeded down the north side we hit frozen crust again. But not before whipping out our compasses and setting a new bearing. The lake has a long narrow bay that projects south and we aimed ourselves about 50 meters north of the end in order to avoid missing it altogether. Once we dropped down we couldn’t see the lake and our route went through rolling country, beaver ponds and streams. Once again we came out at our predetermined objective with deadly accuracy. Off came the snowshoes and out onto the frozen expanse we strolled. The sun was baking hot. This lake has many arms interconnected by narrow channels and we planned on walking north, east and then south to within a km of the north end of “our” lake (Lac A). The central section is open and we could see many of the prominent hills in various directions. Out came the compasses…
Pics 158-176
Back at the cabin we repeated the previous day’s sunbathing but with a different wine. The evening resembled the previous one but with a completely different selection of music. Rubinstein playing Chopin sent shivers down my spine. I was able to abandon myself to the music and experience it totally, note by note, feeling the subtle shading, the tonal shifts, and rubato. Rubinstein was in Chopin’s mind and I was in both of their minds. To experience this I have to be at the cabin in candlelight lying on my bunk after a day of tramping through the bush.
Cont'd in part 2...
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