Day 3 - Loontail Creek Junction to Tim River Access (23 km)

Map provided courtesy of Toporama which contains information licensed under the Open Government Licence – Canada. I have marked my route in blue and portages in red.  

Day 3 - Loontail Creek Junction to Tim River Access (23 km)

I woke up early and was on the water just before 7 AM. A quick meal of oatmeal, dried fruit, and coffee got me going. Unfortunately, the air was very hazy and it appeared that some winds from the east had blown in the smoke from the Quebec forest fires. Yuck.

Loontail Creek was very shallow in spots and if I didn't keep to the deepest parts of the main channel, I would grind to a halt on mudflats. 

Within fifteen minutes,  I had another moose encounter. This one ran away, but oddly came back to the river a few minutes later, saw me again, and ran away for the second time. It was weird. The bugs were crazy bad that morning, so perhaps he was trying to get back into the water for protection

As I progressed up Loontail Creek, the banks became steep with walls of grass. It was an interesting sensation paddling through that because it was difficult to see over it to the wilderness beyond at times.  

Unfortunately for me, I was kind of caught up in the paddle and missed the portage that I needed to take to get into Latour Creek. The sign was on my right, tacked to a tree, and only appeared as I rounded a bend. I guess I just wasn't looking in that direction at that moment.  I just kept on trucking up the creek not thinking I had already reached the take-out. I even lifted over a beaver dam and began paddling hard up against a swift. When it finally dawned on me that I had gone too far and backtracked to where I needed to go, I had wasted an entire half-hour. 

The portage was fairly steep as it went over a ridge and back down to Latour Creek. It crossed the very same logging road that I had crossed two days earlier on the portage from Chibiabos Lake into Indian Pipe Lake. It was also very buggy and humid, so not pleasant in the bug jacket. 

I was somewhat dismayed upon arriving at the put-in on Latour Creek; the creek looked like it was on the low side and darn muddy. Little did I know what Latour Creek would put me through. 

Indeed, I got caught on mudflats a number of times and cursed a bit as I was figuring out what a slog Latour Creek was becoming. It was also a little confusing in a couple of spots; the creek seemed to meander in a few directions and it was a little challenging figuring out the best way to go. I had to check my GPS a couple of times to make sure I was heading in the right direction. 

Eventually, I got to where I needed to go -- or at least I thought I did. The creek got smaller, narrower, and decreased to a trickle where I could barely get my canoe through. 

It didn't seem right. Had I missed the portage? Again, I consulted my GPS (Garmin) and the map showed that the portage was behind me. Darn! It took a little effort to get my boat turned around and I went back to look for the portage. I couldn't see a thing. I paddled past the spot where my GPS showed where the portage was a number of times -- nothing. I got out on shore at three different places and started tramping about the bush and looking into the forest in an attempt to spot a trail -- nothing. Did the portage sign fall off? Was I in a wrong tributary of the creek? Was my GPS map wrong? I looked for an hour and was beginning to get a little worried. 

I had to do something or I would be spending the better part of the day trying to get out of that damned creek. I decided to temporarily abandon my canoe where my GPS showed where the port was and bushwhack through the forest and long grass further up the creek.

After about 600 meters or so, I saw a little upside-down portage marker stuck to an upright log through the trees. I was very relieved! 

The sign was at least half a kilometer past where my GPS map showed where the portage was! Perhaps, the map was from old data and the trail location had changed?

I made my way back to the canoe and paddled back upstream and into that narrow channel that I earlier thought was wrong. The creek did, indeed, become too narrow and I had to get out of the canoe, tie a rope to the front, and drag it in the very little water that remained in Latour Creek. 

Eventually, I saw the portage sign a few hundred meters in the distance and pulled my way there. I then discovered the reason why the creek had no water; there was a formidable beaver dam just before the portage. Those pesky rodents and an incorrect GPS map had made my day very difficult. All told, I spent two hours and fifteen minutes on Latour Creek, a stretch of only a few kilometers. Sigh. 

I was so relieved to have finally arrived at the portage that I didn't even mind the very steep beginning to the 1300-meter portage into Floating Heart Lake. I didn't even curse at the three or four downed trees that blocked my way on that very difficult incline for the first 400 meters. 

By the end of the portage, though, I was officially exhausted. It was undulating, long and had a particularly wet swampy bit on one of the low points. The smoky haze that was hovering over Floating Heart Lake was a very welcome sight upon arriving at the put-in. 

I slowly paddled across the lake to the take-out to the 400-meter portage into Rosebary Lake. Floating Heart Lake wasn't that large, and I think I was procrastinating having to do the next portage. The previous two had been steep and buggy, and the time on Latour Creek between the pair had not been a barrel of laughs. However, upon undertaking the portage, I was ecstatic to find it flat and easy. It was a gentle stroll in the park compared to its predecessors. 

It felt weird arriving at the Rosebary put-in. It is a fairly large lake that seemed much larger with the smoky haze obscuring views of the opposite shores. I had been on tiny lakes, ponds, and grassy creeks for two days. Seeing Rosebary after that and in these conditions was enough to stimulate a case of agoraphobia. 

I had planned to explore a bit of the lake, but the views weren't great and the disaster on Latour Creek set me considerably behind schedule. Also, I needed to eat and filter water, so I made my way to the site next to where the Tim River dumped into Rosebary to make some lunch. On the way there I chatted with a pair of canoeists who were also heading upriver back to the access point. They were the first people I had seen on the trip. 

Normally, I whip up a quick lunch of peanut butter and honey wraps, but after the portages and difficult creek travel of the morning, I got out the stove, boiled some water, and made a carbonara pasta dish --fuel for the three and a half more hours of paddling and portaging that I needed to do. 

I began heading up the Tim River at 1:30 PM.

I passed two other canoe parties en route. One that was ahead of me and having a break on Little Butt Lake, and another family with young children heading into the park in the opposite direction. This was obviously a more commonly used part of the park; I hadn't seen a soul until reaching Rosebary and the Tim.

Just west of Rosebary, the Tim winded and twisted, not quite as much as the Nipissing had, but enough. After Little Butt Lake, it became more direct. 

For one stretch, I seemed to be chasing a Great Blue Heron up the river. It would wait for me to get close,  spread its massive wings, fly upriver, and then we'd re-enact the scene again shortly. It was fantastic because it was probably the largest heron I had ever seen. 

Eventually, I reached a massive beaver dam just east of the portage into Tim Lake. It was a formidable dam that I was able to drag my canoe over at a breach on the north end of it. 

The portage was a short, but very steep incline to the left of a falls that couldn't be seen but could be heard from the trail. 

At the top of the portage, there were orange buoys placed in front of the Tim River. I guessed they were there in an effort to prevent hapless paddlers from paddling into a dangerous situation. 

The eastern part of Tim Lake was swampy but beautiful in its own right with its extensive lily pad fields and pine-clad shorelines. 

I made short work of the rest of my journey back to my vehicle. Other than the smoky haze filling the air, conditions were good for paddling; there was very little wind and the temperature was not so hot. Perhaps, the haze was blocking the heat of the sun from reaching the surface. 

I made note of some campsites on the western side of Tim Lake, paddled to the south of the large island, and re-entered the Tim River where I had begun my trip two days earlier. 

I didn't see anyone else (including any moose) on the lake or in the river until the access point came into view around 4:30 PM. A car was pulling up as I was, and as I was taking out, I chatted with a family from Bangladesh who was visiting their son who was studying in Ontario. They had wanted to see the famous Algonquin Park and had pulled into this more remote access point to take a look.