There was a bit of wind coming in from the east that became a headwind as we paddled in a southeasterly direction. In my experience, in northern Ontario, winds from the east usually bring inclement weather. 

We paddled across the large expanse of Pebonishewi Lake. The lake is gorgeous and is begging to be explored by canoeists for those who make the effort to get there. We were due for a rest day at that point and we certainly would have had one there if we didn't have to reach our destination by a specific time; alas, we were bound by our train schedule.  I dearly would have loved to spend time fishing there. After all, people fly in to fish in that lake for a reason.

Toward the southern reaches of the lake, we saw another cabin on its eastern shore. A subsequent internet search revealed that both of the cabins on the lake are operated by Air Ivanhoe, a fly-in fishing operation based in Foleyet.  

We found the headwaters of the Somme River in an outlet at the southeastern tip of the lake. The water became progressively shallower until we ran aground on a boulder garden. We could see the river heading for a small drop in some trees ahead of us. 

We could see a small portage sign tacked to a tree to our left just beyond the rock garden. This looked to be the handiwork of Brad from the Explore the Backcountry. We propped our canoe up on some rocks, unloaded, and began humping it over to the sign. It was slippery business, so we had to take our steps slowly and carefully. 

Once past the rocks, the portage was clear and easy. It was less than 100 meters in total. The trail led to a rocky put-in next to a grove of cedar trees on the northwestern shore of  Owatawetnes lake. There was a fire pit at the end of the portage next to a cached fishing boat. Brad had also tacked a campsite sign there, but the site paled in comparison to our island site back on Pebonishewi. 

It was a tricky put-in off of those rocks in deep water.  The shore was thick with cedar trees which had completely englufed any view of the Somme River dropping in from Pebonishewi Lake. 

The sky was becoming increasingly overcast and we hoped the rain would hold off for a while as it was still early in the day. Conversely, it did seem apropos to have a lot of wetness on a lake called Owatawetnes. I suppose we did not invoke the spirit of the lake name enough because the rain held off as we paddled it. 

In reality, I find the name Owatawetnes quite interesting and was curious of its origin. I searched its English translation in the online Ojibwe Dictionary but had no luck.  Unfortunately, like many place names in this great nation of ours, it is probably an anglicized aberration of the original Ojibwe word. This is very common in Canada. Without any intention of disrespect and for humour's sake, I sincerely hope it doesn't translate to 'one who suffers from incontinence'. Seriously though, if anyone reading this knows the origin of that lake's name, kindly write in and let me know. 

It was a pleasant ride through Owatawetnes Lake. What the lake lacked in a dramatic rocky shoreline it made up for in gorgeous forest.  Within 20 minutes, we reached its southern tip where the Somme River continued.  A formidable beaver lodge marked the way.

We noticed a cached boat on the left next to a clearing which marked the start of a trail. In Brad's video of his sourjourn through this area, he mentioned that a 2000-meter trail might exist just east of the river allowing canoeists to reach Rat Lake without the wading, lining, bumping, and grinding through a rocky, shallow river. Personally, I'd take a bit of wading and scraping over a two-kilometre carry any day, so we opted for the river route.   

Just past the take-out for that long portage was our first obstacle -- a shallow rock garden that we ran with some marginal success. It was shallow and we hung up a couple of times, but were able to push off and make our way through. This would be a must-wade rapid at lower water levels. (Don't worry, Dad donned his PFD prior to running it. ) 

Just past that, we paddled in deeper water for a few minutes before the river descended again into another rock garden. This time the water all but disappeared under the rocks. We were forced to portage over a minefield of boulders for about 70 meters and put in from a mushy bog float just past the rocks. What a boulder field it was! 

It was quite a balancing act hopping on those rocks to get our canoe and gear across. It made us realize that we take cleared trails for granite, especially with a heavy lode. Once we started the portage, we couldn't go back; it was ore or nothing at that point. However, once through it, we felt emotional and got quite sedimentary about it. Back on the water after the portage, we felt as if we were starting with a clean slate. Looking back, I wouldn't recommend that portage to anyone who doesn't have the stones to try it. 

Ok...I'll stop. 

In the past, I really thought about becoming a seismologist at one point but felt like there might be too much shift work and not enough stability. Sorry about these puns...really...it's not my fault. 

We paddled for 15 minutes before we came upon three sets of shallow rapids in quick succession. We had to get out of the boat and wade through the first and third. The second set went around a 90-degree bend in the river. There was an old 60-meter portage on river-left, but it was heavily grown over with many downed trees across any semblance of a trail. Unfortunately, the bend in the river caused a lot of strainers to get caught in the river there. It took some time, but with a little elbow grease, we were able to saw off and move some of these obstacles to get our boat through. After lining through the top, we were able to run the lower half of the rapid. 

We eventually arrived at the last obstacle before entering Rat Lake. It was a small waterfall that dropped at a bend in the river. The take-out was on a sloping rock face behind some strainers. It took a bit of work to get our boat to it. Brad had placed a portage sign there, as well. We enjoyed our first batch of edible blueberries of the year on that short 60-meter carry. This must have whet our appetites because we stopped to make some cheese and pepperette wraps at the put-in and rested for a bit 

Here is a shot of that landing from the water. The 2000-meter portage from Owatawetnes also ends there. 

Rat Lake is divided into two bays by a narrows. In the southern bay, we began to hear the rumblings of trucks in the distance from further to the south. This continued on and off for the rest of the day and evening. At first, we thought it might be nearby logging operations, but when we got to Wolf Lake later in the day and it seemed even louder,  we clued into the fact that it was probably the mining activity of the IAMGOLD mine at Cote Lake, 11 kilometres to the south. I knew it was a major operation, but I did not expect to hear it that far away. I later looked up a satellite image of the mine site to see what it looked like. It is massive! 

Image provided courtesy of https://browser.dataspace.copernicus.eu/ which contains modified Copernicus Sentinel data [2024]' for Sentinel data. I have marked two lakes and the Cote Gold Mine site in red. 

If it was noise from the mine at that distance, it unfortunately means that a large portion of the 4M Circle Canoe Route is affected by its presence. If we were hearing it that clearly on Rat Lake, 11 kilometres away, imagine the cacophony on Schist, Bagsverd, and Three Duck Lakes! Unless a person truly enjoys canoeing and camping in the ambience of trucks and heavy machinery, a person might feel that the 4M Circle Loop is ruined as a quiet, backcountry wilderness destination, sadly. At least the noise level wasn't unbearably bothersome from our campsite on Wolf Lake that evening, 11 kilometres to the north. It was audible but not loud enough to be intrusive or keep one up at night. Wind strength and direction would play a large role in that, however.

Rat Lake and Mouse Lake were merely widenings of the Somme River and were unremarkable in a bushy cedar kind of way. There was a set of shallow rapids between the lakes that we were able to run in the high water conditions. Supposedly, there is an 80-meter portage on river-left to bypass them if they are unrunnable at lower water levels.

The Somme River exited Mouse Lake to the northeast through a rocky, narrow channel that we were able to sneak through. 

From there, there were three more similar drops which we negotiated by either wading or lining. A 500-meter-old trail on the right supposedly bypasses all of these, but we didn't see it. To be fair, we weren't intently looking for it; we had high water and had been successfully running and wading the river up to that point -- a far easier process than portaging through an overgrown trail. 

We arrived at our last obstacle before reaching Wolf Lake. It was a small waterfall that we could bypass by taking a 30-meter portage on river-right. The river leading to the portage was a rock garden. 

It took a bit of trickery to work our way into deep channels around the rocks and strainers in a current to reach the take-out. Luckily, there was a small island in the centre of the river at the top of the falls that provided us with some eddies and allowed us to reach the rocky landing on the right. The portage was clear and an easy carry past the pretty drop in the river. What made these chutes interesting was the thick canopy of cedar engulfing the river. 

The gloomy skies and weather forecast finally held true to their word and it began raining. It started slow and worked its way up to a steady drizzle that would not subside until the following morning. 

It was about 4:40 PM at that point and we were looking to make camp on Wolf Lake. We thought a pickerel dinner might be nice, so we spent a bit of time trying our luck at the base of the falls, both from shore and from the boat. We discovered the pool below the falls was very shallow, however, and we didn't have much luck other than a couple of tiny pike. 

We turned to take a final shot of the falls before making our way into Wolf Lake in search of a campsite. 

Wolf Lake was the largest lake we had seen since paddling on Pebonishewi Lake that morning. It was nice to get into more open scenery after a full day of negotiating rocky narrowings in a shallow river with a shoreline of thick bush. We immediately noticed the hills and topography changes to the east. 

My map of the area displayed four campsites in the southern section of Wolf Lake where we were. We investigated them all, looking for the best that would give us shelter from rain and wind in the inclement weather. We chose the northernmost of these sites on the western shore. It was flat and had a lot of open space under a couple of large trees with a fantastic view to the northeast across the lake. There was a fantastic deep rocky dropoff right at the shore. 

We pulled ashore on the sloping rock and hauled our wet gear out of the boat. It was raining hard by that point. I immediately erected my hammock tarp between a couple of trees at the back of the site and let Dad put up his tent under it while I put up the bug shelter. When Dad moved his fly-covered tent to a flat, sheltered spot nearby, I put up my hammock under my tarp. Then, we moved our remaining gear into the bug shelter and changed into dry clothes. What a game-changer dry clothes can be! 

It would be dehydrated meals over the camp stove in the bug shelter that evening. A couple of sniffs of whiskey helped us enjoy that even more. Despite viewing the scenic area through a wet bug screen as the rain continued through the evening, we had a nice night nonetheless.