Turner Lake Loop

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. 

In the spring, I decided to do a solo loop in Temagami. I wanted a route that I could do in a few days due to time constraints. The Turner Lake Loop in the South Muskego area (Hap Wilson's Route #9 in Temagami - A Wilderness Paradise) seemed to fit the bill in terms of distance, time, and crown land status. (Solo canoe trippers, I encourage you to continue applying pressure on your local MPPs to amend the price gouging inherent in the current permit fee structure for the Temagmi Cluster of Provincial Parks. To see what I mean, click on https://www.ontarioparks.com/fees/backcountry/2023 ...but, I digress.) The only thing that was deterring me was that it would be a real workout of a trip. There were 16 portages en route with an average length of approximately 600 meters --  and those who have tripped in the area know that portages in Temagami can be undulating, rocky, and just generally difficult.  I was willing to give it a go, though. I had some BIG trips planned later in the summer, and this little gem would get me in shape for them. 

Day 1 - Red Squirrel Lake to Aston Lake (16 km)

I got up at dawn and hit the road immediately from Peterborough in my vehicle which was pre-loaded with my canoe and gear the night before. By 11:30 AM, I was swerving around the potholes and washed-out bits on Red Squirrel Road. By noon, I was ready to shove off onto Red Squirrel Lake from the very busy parking area that was inundated with tents. 

The weather forecast was looking pretty grim for the entire day, and it pretty much started raining as soon as I started paddling. In fact, it would rain the entire day right up until about 8 PM that evening. The temperature was also only about 10 degrees, making it downright chilly. I was wearing a few layers under my rain gear. 

The 45-minute paddle to the northwest part of Red Squirrel Lake was uneventful. The wind was holding off for the moment and it seemed that I was the only one out on the lake. I passed a few campsites, one almost immediately to my right after I left the parking area that wasn't on my map. It was marked with an orange campsite sign and looked like it would be a nice site for those arriving late in the day to the put-in.

The deciduous trees were just starting to bud with their lime-green hue, and the horizons were an attractive mix of dark evergreens and these budding leaves. 

Just before arriving at the portage, I passed a cabin on my right that appeared to be either newly built or under renovation. A man was outside chopping wood and his dogs came running and barking to the shore upon seeing me. The man came down, as well, and we chatted a bit. He was a very friendly fellow and I gathered that he, too, was an avid paddler based on what he was saying. He wished me luck and waved me on my way. 

The portage from Red Squirrel to Sandy Inlet of Lake Temagami wasn't that easy. First off, it was obvious that I was the first one to use it after winter. There was a bunch of deadfall on it that I cut and removed on the return trip for the canoe. The first carry had been a little tougher than expected as I had to either climb over or bushwhack around the deadfall. The trail was clear and easy to follow, however; it only had one steep bit at the outset. My second load with the canoe was much easier after clearing the trail. The sound of the rapids and chutes of the Anima Nipissing River was audible to my right. 

I still had to paddle a bit of the Anima Nipissing River before it emptied into Lake Temagami. It was a pretty area, but by this time the rain was really coming down. 

Within 15 minutes, I reached the mouth of the river where I spotted the buildings of Camp Wanapitei ahead. 

I paddled under their footbridge that crosses the river and out into the open water of Sandy Inlet. Though the rain was teeming down, there was little wind, thankfully; so I beelined across the expanse of the bay for Napoleon Mountain. Other than a fishing boat trolling in the distance, there was no one else out on the water. 

The 'infamous' Napoleon portage was just to the south of the cliffs at the north end of the inlet. There wasn't a portage sign, but there was flagging tape marking the take-out. There, I snapped a quick photo of the view looking back into Ferguson Bay.

I had never done this portage before. The last time I was in the area, to get into Whitefish Bay, I had paddled south to the Pickerel Bay portage which was shorter and flatter; though more direct, the Napoleon portage was reportedly very steep and difficult. Ironically, I didn't find it bad at all. Sure, the first 50-meter length was a vertical assault, but it was very short; the remainder of the portage was relatively flat, well-used, and easy to walk. In fact, I found it to be one of the easier portages on this entire trip! 

The following photo is a picture from the top of the steep bit right at the start, looking back at my canoe. From there, it's fairly flat along a ridge and a bit of descending steepness at the other end to get back down to the put-in. At that moment, I was wondering what all the fuss about this portage had been about. But looking back on some myccr.com posts from 10 or so years earlier, it seemed that it wasn't used regularly; I'm guessing that more canoe traffic on the trail in recent years has made this portage clear and much easier to negotiate. Perhaps, the Friends of Temagami have graciously done some work on it? If so, thank you! (I donate to the Friends of Temagami, and I encourage other canoe trippers to the area to do so, as well, if it is manageable for them. Their work in the area is invaluable! )

On a clear day, I would have taken the time to do the short hike up to Napoleon Mountain for the views. A separate trail veered off to the north from the main portage to allow canoeists to get there. However, in heavy rain and grey overcast skies, I decided to save that view for another time. This would not be my last trip to this part of Temagami, for sure. 

I put in on Whitefish Bay where there was a smattering of cottages. 

I wish I could say the paddle to the north end of Whitefish Bay was pleasant, but it wasn't. The rain continued, and on top of that, a north wind began blowing in against me. (...The searchers all say they'd have made Whitefish Bay, If they'd put fifteen more miles behind her...)

In retrospect, it was probably just as well. This required me to paddle harder, keeping me warm. The temperature was only about 10 degrees, and though my rain gear was keeping me mostly dry, the damp, chilly air was penetrating. I hugged the shore and ducked behind islands as much as I could. 

It was around 4:30 PM when I reached the portage into Aston Lake. It was on the north side of a creek to the northeast of a large island that had a couple of cottages on it. Some kids were running around at one of the cottages, playing in the rain. The portage wasn't really marked that I could see, but the landing area was obvious on a grassy opening. I could make out the trail heading into the bush parallel to the creek. I hadn't had anything to eat since breakfast, and I was famished. I made a couple of peanut butter and honey wraps and ate them there while there was a temporary lull in the rain. 

The condition of the portage was fine. It was a little over 1000 meters in length. There was flagging tape along it, but for the most part, the flagging was unnecessary since the trail was easily discernible. The forest was almost all birch and small deciduous trees, and at that time of year was fairly open. It looked as if the area was either a previous burn, or had been heavily forested not too long ago. Three-quarters of the way along, it crossed Red Squirrel Road. Just on the north side of the road was a large wet patch that I had to splash through; thankfully, it wasn't that deep. From there to the lake, it was a typical rocky Temagami trail through a thicker evergreen forest. 

By the time I had finished the two carries on the portage and put in again, I was done with tripping in the rain. I wanted to get settled on a site with a tarp up and hopefully get a fire going; that is exactly what I did at the south end of Aston Lake. There was a nice-looking site on a point at the south end of the southern back bay of the lake just a 30-second paddle from the portage. 

I got my canoe and gear up the steep landing area, and began the process of getting dry in a steady rain. I got out my ropes, saw, and knife, cut a couple of poles, and erected a tarp over the firepit. 

After that, I was able to unload my bag, and put up my Christmas present -- my Amok Draumr hammock. This was my first time trying this fancy-schmancy hammock and I was looking forward to it.  I first heard of it on the Lost Lakes Youtube channel, ( Jon and Erin looked pretty cozy in theirs!) and, coincidentally, the zipper on my Hennessy Hammock, after three long and faithful canoe trip seasons, broke on my last trip of 2022; I was in need of a new one. My beautiful wife came to my rescue with this fantastic Christmas present. 

By 8:30 in the evening, the rain looked like it was finally stopping. The forest was incredibly quiet and static; the air still had a dampness and a chill to it but I had a fire going and I was in a few layers of dry clothes. I had just consumed a fantastic steak and potato meal,  accompanied by a Czech Pilsner. The sun, low in the sky, began casting a pinkish glow on the forest across the bay; the silence was then broken by a loon's eerie wail in the distance. It was magical being in that moment with not a soul in sight or earshot-- the reason why I endure difficult portages in terrible weather conditions.