Embedded Files
Distance: 2 km
Distance: 2 km
Number of Portages: None
Number of Portages: None
I woke up in the morning, and immediately, my eye had a burning sensation when I tried to open it. It felt like I had something in it, and exposing it to the light of the day gave me a shot of intense pain. Not good.
Not having a mirror with me, I reached for my phone and took a selfie of it so I could see what it looked like. It was watery, swollen, and bloodshot.
I like the fact that I need to be self-reliant on a solo canoe trip in the wilderness, and I prepare for it. I bring along the necessary gear and tools to address any potential issues that may arise. The one thing that I have always on me at all times is my ZOLEO -- a satellite device that has an SOS button on it in case of a medical emergency that would require a rescue evacuation.
This was, by far, my first time alone in the woods, either. I would say that the majority of the trip reports on this blog of mine are of solo canoe trips. It was also not the first time I ran into some health issues on a solo trip.
I'm 54 years old and started playing soccer at a very young age. I played recreationally until I was 46 years old, when my ankles and knees told me to stop. Prone to ankle and knee woes, I always bring knee and ankle wraps on every trip. This preparation certainly helped me power through some injuries on three different solo trips: rolling an ankle on the Upper Nipissing Loop in Algonquin, lifting a fully-loaded canoe over a beaver dam on Potter Lake in Algonquin, and descending a very steep portage in Quetico Provincial Park. On all three occasions, I hobbled through the remainder of the routes.
What I'm trying to communicate here is that I would not hit the SOS button on my ZOLEO unless I absolutely thought it was necessary. If there is a way for me to get out on my own without having a major health consequence, I would take it.
But on the morning of July 2, 2025, after I got out of my hammock and made my way to the bug tent. While making a coffee, I began thinking about my predicament. There was no way of telling how badly my eye was injured. All I knew was that I got a stick in the eye, I couldn't see anything clearly at all, and I was in pain. It did not get better in the 19-odd hours since the injury occurred, but rather, considerably worse. I was now officially worried about the permanent health of my eye. The thoughts that were going through my head at that moment were ones of permanent vision loss. The prospect of vision loss was simply not a risk I was willing to take at that moment.
Before hitting the panic button, I texted my wife with my ZOLEO and described my situation to her. I hadn't told her about my eye in my nightly check-in with her the day before because I did not want her to worry about me before going to bed. When she saw my texts, she replied that she was extremely concerned (after rightfully chastising me for waiting so long) and immediately advised me to contact Rescue Services with my ZOLEO. I already knew it was what I had to do, but I wanted to hear it from her, as well.
I hit the SOS button on my ZOLEO for the first time ever. That was not a good feeling. I felt like a contestant tapping out on the reality TV show ALONE.
Rescue contacted me through my device immediately. I explained my situation through a series of text exchanges. Based on the information I gave them about the injury and symptoms that I had communicated to them, I was advised that I should seek immediate medical attention. Otherwise, I was looking at the strong likelihood of the eye injury getting infected, which could lead to a variety of conditions leading to permanent vision loss. I subsequently found out that these are conditions, such as keratitis or a corneal ulcer.
Well, there I was on Diablo Lake, four days away from my vehicle -- plenty of time for my eye to become infected on a remote backcountry canoe trip. I knew I had to get out. Rescue also informed me that if they came to get me in a helicopter or float plane, they would most likely not be able to extract my canoe or gear; it would just be me going directly to a hospital. In that case, I would have to get back to Diablo Lake at a later date, somehow, to retrieve what I would have left there.
Likewise, my vehicle was 53 kilometres from Longlac, 80 kilometres north of my present location, down a logging road. I'd have to get back to that somehow, as well.
They also informed me that many emergency helicopters in the area were being used to deal with the forest fires further to the northwest. They didn't tell me explicitly how, but I imagined they were being used to evacuate communities near the fires.
I could have parted with the canoe and gear; those can always be replaced, but I didn't want to leave them as litter on such a pristine campsite. I most certainly did not want to leave a barrel filled with food on the site, either. The last thing the Steel River Loop needs is for local bears to identify that wonderful site at the end of the Diablo Portage as a food source and to begin associating canoe barrels with food.
I thought about portaging back through the Diablo Portage to Santoy and paddling to the access point, but my eye wasn't having it. Unlike the previous day, I couldn't even open it because it was much more photosensitive to the light of the day than it had been immediately after my injury. At camp, I had my buff pulled over it like a bandana. With my eye completely closed, I was having a lot of trouble with my depth perception. On one occasion, while trying to sit on my camp chair, I missed it completely and ended up on my butt! My brain hadn't adjusted to viewing the world with one eye just quite yet. There was no way I was descending the Diablo portage safely like that.
With all of these factors bouncing around my head, I knew what I had to do. I would try to arrange, with the help of my wife, my own float plane extraction to fly me from Diablo Lake to Evonymus Lake. From there, I could paddle down the Little Steel River to my vehicle and drive myself to the hospital in Geraldton by the end of the day to get treatment. I had gotten myself into that mess; I would get myself out. It was the best solution, even though it would come at a cost to me that I certainly hadn't budgeted for. If it could be arranged, I wouldn't be leaving anything behind on the site, I'd be getting back to my vehicle safely, and I wouldn't be detracting from any rescue or evacuation efforts in the fire zones in the northwest where they were desperately needed at the time.
In between exchanges with Rescue, I tried lifting my own spirits by posing for a selfie for comic relief. I had to have one moment that day that I could look back on and laugh at.
I thanked Rescue profusely for their advice and told them of my plans. I told them that I would arrange my own extraction. They connected with my wife and gave her the names of float plane operators in the vicinity.
After a number of calls, my wife had a plane available to pick me up that afternoon. In my mind and to whoever was listening, I sent a heartfelt thank you out to my wife, my ZOLEO device, the operator at Rescue for his/her help, the good people at Nakina Air Service, and even Lord Paddlesworth if he/she was, in fact, listening, for assisting me on such short notice.
I texted my wife my GPS coordinates, which she relayed to Nakina Air. It took some time to receive a response, as I'm sure the pilot was looking into the logistics of the pick-up and whether or not the extraction could occur at my location. After about an hour, Nakina Air contacted me directly on my ZOLEO and said that a plane would arrive between 3 and 4 PM. This made me happy. By that time, it had been 24 hours since my injury, and since my eye was getting worse, my mind had already gone to that place of assuming the worst and that my eye was getting infected.
I packed up and had everything ready to go at the shore by 2:30 PM. Then, I just sat down and waited. In spite of what was happening, I just laughed. For some time, I had wanted to make it to Diablo Lake and spend some time fishing for brook trout. I had finally made it there and couldn't fish! Likewise, for some time, I had wanted to go on a canoe trip that involved a float plane pick-up or drop-off. Well, I was about to do it, but not at all under the circumstances I wanted. Oh, the eyerony!
The float plane arrived exactly at 4 PM. The pilot did a couple of passes to check out his landing options. While he was doing that, I loaded the canoe at the shore. On his third pass, he came in from the north and came to a stop in the bay about 50 meters north of my island campsite. I waved and paddled out to the plane.
Two pilots were on board the plane. We greeted each other. The pilots were extremely helpful. They got me and my gear on board in no time and tied my canoe to the pontoons. They were amazing and couldn't have been nicer.
Earlier in the afternoon, the wind had come up in a big way, but thankfully, by 4 PM, it had died off somewhat. That made the whole process much easier.
In short order, the plane began taking off. With the wind still up a bit, the takeoff was a little rocky. I took a video with my phone; apologies for the shaky camera work.
Up in the air, it was very choppy. The pilot mentioned that there was a strong north wind coming in up there, and it would be a bumpy ride. He was not wrong. I took a few photos, but for the most part, we were bouncing around like a 12' pack boat in a CIII rapid.
I did manage to get a decent shot of the second logjam that I portaged around toward the end of Day 3.
25 minutes later, we were flying over Eaglecrest Lake. I soon spotted my vehicle on the Little Steel, north of Eaglecrest.
The pilot did a couple of passes to assess the landing area and choose his best approach. He circled around and again came in from the north.
They dropped me off in the southernmost bay of the lake near a point. I thanked them profusely many times for coming to my rescue on such short notice.
I paddled south a few hundred meters near where the Little Steel flowed into Eaglecrest, turned my canoe around, and waved them off. I watched them turn around and take off toward the north, back to their base in Nakina. Thank you so very much, Nakina Air Service! You were there when I needed you!
I entered the Little Steel River and floated down to my vehicle unimpeded. It was less than one kilometre on the river, and thankfully, there weren't any sweepers blocking my way. I was a bit concerned that there might be, but I had already noticed that the route was clear from the air.
My vehicle was exactly how I had left it. I loaded it up and drove out to the Catlonite Road, going slowly. My sunglasses certainly helped dull the pain of the light when I opened my right eye,
I pulled up to the hospital in Geraldton at around 7:30 PM after a very tentative drive to get there. As I mentioned earlier, my depth perception was a little off, and I took it very slowly. It would take some time to adjust.
There were no other patients at the hospital! What a change from southern Ontario. My last trip to a hospital in Peterborough was a 7-hour wait in the emergency waiting room.
I was treated by a nurse practitioner. Apparently, because Geraldton is a relatively smaller community, a doctor comes up from Thunder Bay on a part-time basis and is flown in for cases of more severe emergencies. When I arrived, the doctor was in Thunder Bay that day.
Thankfully, the nurse practitioner said that she had a bit of experience with eye injuries. She gave me drops to clear the redness and froze my eye. After taking a look at my eye, she informed me that I had done the right thing by getting help when I did. She said that I had a pretty serious corneal abrasion that most likely would have gotten infected in the back woods without being treated with antibiotics. She put some green dye in my eye that would allow her to see the injury more clearly. After doing so, she said there was quite a wide abrasion on my cornea across my pupil, but it seemed to her that the pupil itself had not been damaged. It was the best diagnosis I could have received. The fact that it was across my pupil was what was causing the extreme blurred vision.
She took a photo of it with my phone, so that I could see it. The green slash across my pupil is the abrasion.
She then said that with antibiotics, she believed it would heal as long as no infection set in. She recommended a more thorough examination by an eye doctor, who would have better expertise and equipment to look for more underlying damage, as soon as I got home. She gave me some antibiotic drops and told me to drive home safely. I almost hugged her.
When I left the hospital, it was almost 9 PM. I hadn't had a thing to eat since the morning. I immediately went to the Subway in Geraldton and picked up a foot-long steak and cheese. I found a motel in Geraldton, ate my sub, and went to bed.
The next day, I did the 13-hour drive from Geraldton to Peterborough, stopping along the way every few hours to rest my good eye. I visited the park next to the Missinaibi River in Mattice, where I read some information boards about the legacy of the Missinaibi. At the riverside, there was a large group of young people from a camp getting a debriefing from their camp leaders. Their canoes were lined up and ready to go at the shore. They were about to head north on their canoe journey to Moosonee. I chatted with one of the leaders for a minute after her talk. They were excited, yet trepidatious about the high water conditions on the river. She said the water levels were three times higher than they had been the previous year at the same time of year. Thunderhouse Falls would indeed be thundering. I hope they had a fantastic trip.
After arriving home late that evening, I saw my optometrist the following day. He gave me a different kind of antibiotic drops and told me that my eye should heal in about a week. He thought it should heal without any permanent damage, but was concerned about the possibility of scar tissue forming across the abrasion in front of the pupil. He made an appointment to see me again eight days later to check in on the healing and have another look. He also told me that I had absolutely done the right thing by leaving the backcountry and getting antibiotics into my eye.
Five days later, I still had blurred vision. The redness and swelling had all but disappeared, but I still couldn't really see much other than a total blur out of my right eye. I was beginning to worry that a scar was forming on the eye. Did I leave it too long to get help? Was the abrasion deep into the pupil, causing permanent damage?
I woke up on July 10th, the day before my follow-up appointment, nine days after I got injured, opened my right eye, and I could see! Just like that, overnight, I had vision. I was ecstatic. There was still some mild bluriness in my periphery, but I could see!
The following day, my optometrist told me that my eye was healing nicely after taking another look with his machine. He gave me the go-ahead to continue canoe tripping, but advised me to wear swimming goggles for the next while if I were to go in the water at all. He also suggested wearing protective eyewear in the future on bushy portages. Well, Home Depot is literally next door to my optometrist's office. After my appointment, I went in and purchased a pair of clear, anti-fog, safety glasses that are now permanently stored in the zipped pocket of my canoe pack. I wear them now on portages. After what I went through, I advise others to do the same. Don't learn the hard way like I did!
I went on a 5-day canoe trip in Temagami the following day.
Writing this in October, three months after the injury, I would say my eyesight did not recover 100%, but very close to it. I would say that the vision in my right eye is still a little more blurry than it was before the injury at far distances, but not enough so to warrant corrective lenses. It did do something with my close-range vision, though. Since the injury, my vision isn't as clear with my cheaters out of that eye as it was before the injury. As for the cost of the floatplane pick-up? Well, my thinking is that you can't put a price on your vision.
Readers of this blog know that eye like to throw in some really cornea puns in my narration. Up to this point in the story, since the injury, I felt that it shouldn't be done. I wanted readers to understand what happened with a clear lens. Some readers may have missed the puns up to this point, and now that they are reading some, they feel that the puns are a sight for sore eyes. However, I suspect most readers feel that they are just too predictable and can see them coming from a mile away, easily seeing right through them. As for me, I feel puns bring clarity to any situation.
Seriously, though. An eye injury is no joke. I learned that the hard way. As mentioned earlier, immediately after it happened, I should have been looking to extract myself from the trip rather than waiting a whole day to do so. In the end, my eye didn't get infected. I got lucky; it could have ended much worse for me. For those who may have a similar eye injury out on a trip, use this report as a fair warning to get medical attention as soon as humanly possible.
As for the Steel River Loop, I want to try it again! Seriously. And the next time, I would like to take the Diablo Portage to compare the two links.
And no...I don't really believe that a canoe trip can be cursed. Lord Paddlesworth will not get the better of me!
Until the next trip...
Pros: The Steel River Loop certainly was an eye-opening experience. (Sorry...couldn't resist!) Although I can't comment on the lake section of the loop (I will someday, though!), I will discuss the parts that I completed. Up until my injury, I was having a blast. In high water, it was a pleasure to run the river. There were non-stop swifts and rapids from Camp Chugabrewski to Rainbow Falls. Canoeists don't need to be whitewater experts to run the rapids, but should have some basic whitewater experience. The beauty and fishing are about as good as it gets in northern Ontario. The established campsites were great. I would advise any experienced canoe tripper who enjoys a challenge to place this route atop their bucket list of trips to accomplish.
Cons: Portaging. As mentioned at length in the trip report, there were some tough portages on the parts of the loop that I did. The first logjam after Deadhorse Bridge was a challenge due to the constantly changing nature of the river. The 3 portages from Santoy to Diablo are a full day of canoe-tripping alone in terms of the time needed to complete them. Given the choice again, I would probably take the Diablo portage. Between Rainbow Falls and Santoy Lake, there were no established campsites. It would be an extremely long day to that section in one go. Canoeists must be prepared to make camp on a sand spit or riverbank along that section. The route is a long drive from southern Ontario or the United States, but well worth the drive to get there.
Page updated
Google Sites
Report abuse