Day 2  - Lady Evelyn Lake to Hobart Lake 

(14 km)

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. 

Day 2  - Lady Evelyn Lake to Hobart Lake (14 km, not including side trip to Tupper Lake)

With our navigational setback and late arrival to the site, we weren't able to try our hand at fishing the previous day. Lady Evelyn Lake is famous for its walleye fishing. The local lodges claim it is world-class. Paddling out on our last day at the east end of the lake, we witnessed anglers pulling out a few large walleyes just in the 10 minutes or so it took us to pass them in our canoe. 

On the morning of our second day, we tried our luck in front of our site with some deep-diving crankbait but had no luck. It is a massive lake and it would have helped to have local knowledge of where the wally spots were. Also, we didn't have any live bait with us and that certainly helps with the warm water in the summer. We never managed to land a walleye for the entire trip, but then again we didn't spend a lot of time and effort on it. We were pretty much on the go from morning to early evening every day. 

On this trip, Dad and I were operating on a late-to-start, late-to-make-camp schedule. The vastness of the area allowed for a lot of choices of campsites, though this approach did affect us negatively on a couple of occasions. Relaxing with a coffee over breakfast is a nice thing generally. After a campfire breakfast of bacon and eggs, we broke camp and were on the water by mid-morning. I snapped a quick pic of our site as we paddled away. 

Heading west once again, we made our way past the campsite at Preacher's Point, where a family with two young children had made the site their temporary home. The kids were investigating the shoreline, accompanied by their mother. They looked like they were thoroughly enjoying themselves. We chatted with mom a bit as we paddled past, who warned us that the area was expecting a bit of a storm that night. I guess she had satellite service and was able to get a weather report. They had just returned from the Maple Mountain hike the previous day. The gloomy weather forecast gave us a renewed determination to get to Hobart Lake to set up camp, and then on to Tupper Lake to do the hike and return to our site before the weather turned south. 

We made our way around the bend where Lady Evelyn leads into Sucker Gut. We couldn't find the ranger station that was supposed to be on an island on this bend, though it was marked on the map. Perhaps, we were on the wrong side of the island. Heading south now, the waters narrowed and there were nice rock formations on the shoreline on either side. 

As we entered the expanse of Sucker Gut Lake, the wind began to pick up somewhat and we paddled close to the western shore. We kept an eye out for a campsite on a point on an island marking the entrance to the channel leading into Betty's Hole. I did a double-take after seeing this unfortunately-named body of water.

 Spying the site, we turned west again and paddled around to the north of a small island. There were several logs protruding from the surface, leftover from the flooding that occurred after the Montreal River was dammed. 

The north shore of Betty's Hole has several inlets and it was a little difficult to see which one was the entrance to Willow Island Creek, the way into Hobart Lake. We just kept heading west. We eventually paddled past the point of land that juts out from the north shore and got into the shallow western bay.

 There, the wind was quite strong, which easily whipped up whitecaps on this shallow expanse of water. We hugged the northern shore, and as we entered Willow Island Creek, a couple of canoeists paddled past us in the opposite direction. They informed us that Hobart Lake was empty of other campers and that we would have our choice of sites. This pleased us since there was a prime site on the eastern shore with spectacular views of Maple Mountain. 

We cast a few lines in the creek, which looked like an excellent bass and pike spot. Dad hooked into a small bass, but we dared not dawdle, wanting to have first dibs on the site on Hobart; so we moved on after a couple of casts. Willow Island Creek was shallow and rocky in spots and we were grateful for the high water levels, unusual for mid-August. Perhaps, the dam flow had been decreased to maintain these levels. 

Within 30 minutes we were paddling up to our site on the eastern shore, which was perched high on a rock facing west with fantastic views of Maple Mountain. Someone even left a plastic chair next to the firepit to welcome us. The take-out on the site was challenging as the wind was strong by this time and rocks were steep at the only spot we could land our canoe. The picture of the site below was taken the following day after the wind had disappeared and I could manage a better shot from the water.

We set up camp, made a quick lunch, got back in the canoe and started paddling to the north end of Hobart Lake and back into Willow Island Creek. Maple Mountain was our destination. We made quick work of it because, by this time, the wind at our backs was a steady force. We didn't celebrate too much though, because we knew we'd be against it on Tupper, and again on the return trip on Hobart. The paddle through the creek was clear and we had no obstacles, even when we branched left into the smaller tributary that leads into Tupper -- that is until we got to Tupper and had to lift over a rather formidable beaver dam.   

Now struggling against the wind, it took a bit longer than expected to get across weedy Tupper Lake. We were glad that we didn't decide to camp there. It's quite a marshy lake and the one site on the east side of the lake didn't look that appealing. We had a little trouble finding the take-out to the trail to Maple Mountain as it wasn't signposted. We eventually spotted it behind some reeds as we got closer to the southern shore. We knew we weren't the only ones on the trail as we pulled our canoe ashore next to a small Sportspal canoe -- an odd choice of boat to find at this remote location. They are known for their lightweight stability but are horrible beasts to paddle long distances. 

The trail up to the summit took about 90 minutes. According to Hap Wilson's guidebook, there are cabin remains at the take-out, but we couldn't see them. We passed two young men descending after about 30 minutes into the ascent. They warned us of the onslaught to come. 

The trail was well-worn and footing was not really an issue, however. There were a couple of fairly steep bits leading up to Halfway Lake. We were wearing our swimsuits, hoping to have a refreshing dip in this lake, but it looked weedy and muddy upon arrival. We couldn't see a trail leading to a spot where we could swim comfortably, so we pressed on. From the lake to the summit, the trail got quite steep. It is not for the faint-hearted, especially when one arrives at the "Hillary Step", an old steel ladder from the fire tower that is precariously placed against a rock face. It moved slightly as we climbed it! Looking down over the cliff while doing so is not recommended. 

Arriving at the summit was exhilarating. After 90 minutes of walking through dense forest and suddenly emerging at the open and bare summit (ironically so due to a forest fire started by the children of a forest ranger) at the highest point of land as far as the eye can see was spectacular. 

We hung around at the top for a half-hour or so, munching on wild blueberries, taking photos and investigating the fire tower. 

Maple Mountain, or "Chee-bay-jing" to the Anishnabe people, was a sacred burial ground. From the top, the views are astounding. I don't know if it is because of this view, the work it takes to get there, or its sacred history, but there is a special feeling upon arriving at the summit.

The mountain has had a history of incidents and issues though. During the 70s, through protests and activism, it narrowly escaped the horrible commercial fate of becoming a ski resort. In 1981, there were two fatal aircraft crashes on the mountain -- one involving an MNR helicopter that went down in bad weather. According to Hap Wilson, the corpses of the deceased were dragged out of the wreckage by bears -- a gruesome reminder that one is, indeed, in the wilderness. 

Descending was much quicker than the ascent. By the time we reached our canoe and put in, we had a pretty amazing thirst going. Our water bottles had long been emptied and we had sweated a lot on the three-hour excursion. Heading northeast and back toward Willow Island Creek, the wind was strong at our backs. We didn't need to paddle at all on Tupper Lake. Once out in the centre, I dipped my gravity water filter into the lake and held the dirty bag up with my paddle. By the time I had filled up both of our bottles, we were at the beaver dam lift-over. The wind had blown us straight across the lake without paddling! 

Upon arriving at our campsite on Hobart, it was just shy of 7 pm. We had to hug the eastern shoreline along Hobart as we were heading straight into the strong headwind. We passed some newly-arrived neighbours at the campsite adjacent to ours. We had watched them paddle across Hobart from the summit of Maple Mountain. 

We got a nice fire going, cooked up the remainder of our fresh steak, and sat back to watch the sunset over the mountain as clouds rolled in behind it.

By 8:30 these clouds had turned dark and we could see flashes of white, and then eventually orange and purply light illuminating the sky. It was quite a show. A flash would occur every few seconds coming in from the southwest and eventually move over the mountain. We couldn't hear any thunder at first, so we just sat back and watched this wonderful display of natural fireworks. 

I was so enthralled with the view that I completely forgot to pull out my camera and get some footage of it. I think it was because it was getting dark and I was more concerned with trying to determine if the storm was heading our way or not. Then, we started hearing the thunder and we knew it was getting closer. 

We quickly got our dinner gear cleaned and packed up in the barrel. I made sure the tarp over my hammock was secure. It was quite an amazing sight to see the storm hit the northwestern part of the lake first. We could see the sheets of rain and wind gusts coming near us across the lake, but we were relatively untouched at our site. We debated whether it would hit us or not. Unfortunately, I won the debate because it eventually caught up to us in a hurry. Dad and I grabbed our chairs and we ducked under my hammock tarp just as the gale-force winds and sheets of rain pushed it strongly against us. The tarp held out though and we continued to watch this wonderful display of nature until it became too dark to do so. At that point, Dad crawled into his tent and me into my hammock. It took a while to fall asleep as the wind slammed the tarp up against me, but we both rode out the storm, staying dry and sleeping like babies for the rest of the night.


Day 3