Maps 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.   

The grey skies continued to dominate the scenery in the morning. At least it wasn't raining when we emerged from the tent. 

The mosquitoes weren't too bad, so we got a fire going and ate our breakfast of bacon and egg wraps next to the fire rather than recoiling in the sanctuary of the bug shelter.

Out of the rain, we had more opportunity to explore the campsite a bit. On the far side of one of the hemlocks, I found a wonderful specimen of Ganoderma Tsugae, otherwise known as Hemlock Varnish Shelf. Tempting though it was, I didn't set my coffee on it. 

On the creepier side, Dahee found this little guy wedged into a crack of the boulder next to the fire pit.

Despite looking like a prop from Indian Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystall Skull, we didn't receive any mind-penetrating headaches or alien telepathic messages. At least, I didn't. I can't speak for Dahee. 

We departed the site shortly after 9 AM. Rain was imminent and we wanted to get packed up and on the water before it started. I took my obligatory photos of the site from the water as we left. 

Flatrock Lake was gorgeous. I love lakes with a lot of rocky outcrops thick with coniferous trees. The lake was exactly that. 

We curled to the north and then east around a headland and could see the top of Flatrock Rapids and the expanse of Go Home Lake with its cottage-laden shores beyond. 

We saddled up on the rocks to the right of the drop and walked over to investigate it, making sure to avoid the copious amounts of poison ivy we noticed on the shore. 

These rapids were actually a chute with a formidable drop at the end. 

We made quick work of the short portage and paddled out into the bay which was thankfully calm. I turned to grab one last shot of the falls from below. 

Go Home Lake has many islands and is actually divided into two sections separated by two large islands in the middle. It's a stunningly beautiful lake and I tried to imagine what it would have looked like before all the cottages were built on it. 

We travelled down the western shore of the northern section, using the shore as protection from any wind that might come up. After 15 minutes, the rain started coming down hard and we borrowed a cottager's dock for a moment to dig into our packs and retrieve our rain gear. 

The way between the northern and southern sections of the lake was through a passage between the two islands called Haunted Narrows. What was going on with this trip? Sandy Gray's ghost, skulls at the campsite, and now a haunted passage?! Was this a canoe trip or an episode of Scooby Doo? Ruh-roh–RAGGY, Jinkies, Zoinks! 

Here is a shot of the narrows. Thankfully, we made it through without encountering neither ghosts nor poltergeists of any sort. 

We entered the southern section of the lake called The Bay of Many Winds. Mercifully, the bay did not live up to its moniker on that wet Sunday morning. For us, it was The Bay of Many Raindrops. For me, I don't mind two raindrops -- two's company, but three's a cloud. 

Sorry. 

Nearing our destination at the south of the lake we paddled through another short narrows with the most oxymoronic name imaginable, Flat Rapids. Appropriately, there was no detectable moving water in the narrows. To commemorate the theme, I let out a silent scream as I paddled through. 

We must have reached Go Home Lake Marina at rush hour. As we attempted to round the point to access the narrow channel that would lead us to our vehicle, a succession of motorboats went by in both directions, many of them close to us and not slowing down to minimize their wake. I would have shown these jerks a middle digit if I weren't hanging on for dear life. 

Eventually, we made it into the channel and paddled up to the landing to retrieve our vehicle.