September 3, 2004

I awoke first that morning, lit the fire and watched the sun come up over the trees as it filtered into the campsite.  We all had coffee & Bailey's (or Bailey's & coffee rather) and sat around the fire eating our breakfast of bagels or cereal.

    The people that were traveling the night before never came back, so we assumed they must have met up with their friends.

    We got moving a little earlier that morning and passed some other travelers on the first portage trail to Little Trout Lake.  The winds and waves proved to be a tough paddle and with a little guess work, we figured out which islands we needed to navigate between to get the next trail.

    The end of the portage onto Ralph Bice introduced us to fierce winds and a lake peppered with white caps.  Very reminiscent of our Cedar Lake crossing a year prior.   It took all the energy we had to battle our way to a horseshoe shaped island that would become camp for our first night on the lake.

    At first glance, the island comprised of about four relatively spaced out sites was somewhat unsheltered but an excellent place to get some rays.  While exploring the terrain, we did however notice large amounts of bear droppings thus prompting Cam to offer his and Andrews scouting services.  They would cross through the waves and wind to the next island while Greg and I made lunch.  This seemed like a great idea as both Greg and I were feeling somewhat lazy and approximately five minutes after their departure, we came to the realization that they had with them, all the cookware, and that there would be no making lunch.  So we did the only thing that two self respecting adventurers could do...we fixed a few drinks and waited.

    Now, the other part of the plan also called for Greg and I to be on the lookout for the other half of the company if they signaled.  Upon finding a more inviting site, they were to wave their paddles and we would meet them over there.  After some short observations, it did not take long for the second moment of realization to hit us.  Almost all the canoes on the lake were the same colour...a pale beige, and that there was no hope in hell of ever seeing somebody waving a paddle without binoculars of which we had none.  So we had another drink.

    Cam and Andrew returned shortly admitting defeat and we were resigned to the fact that we would just have to deal with bear dung island.  It really wasn't that bad...quite a nice site actually.

    During camp setup, we were paid a visit for the first time in tripping history, by two of the park wardens.  So while engaging in friendly chit-chatter and inspecting our permits, Greg quietly camouflaged his cans under the nearest brush.  The warden also said to us "They sold you a site on Iagoo Lake?...I thought that site burnt down."  Although the other warden quickly brushed this thought aside, as it turned out, this statement would influence our travel in the days to come.

We spent the most that remaining day, doing laundry, bathing and laying on the rocks in the warm sun.  It was a welcomed lazy day after the first two long days of travel.  We also had some more visitors that interrupted our afternoon slumbers.  A foursome traveling in two canoes, noisily floated by our island camp, only reappear on the other side stumbling clumsily through the undergrowth .  It appeared that they were to meet some friends on Little Trout Lake and couldn't seem to get their bearings.  We explained that they should continue to the end of the lake and take the next portage trail to Little Trout, but the whole concept of an island seemed beyond them ask the continued to ask where the waterways on each side of the island lead. 

    Now maybe their appearance should've tipped us off immediately that they were out of their element as they were dressed in denim jeans, lifejackets way too tight and white gardening gloves, not to mention that all their gear was stored in large plastic shopping bags.

    After showing the map to each one of them individually, we watched in aw as they canoed in circles out into the current only to be carried away like a fallen leaf down a spring stream.

    Later that day we explored the windswept point of the island.  We watched the sunset before returning to camp to enjoy and fantastic spaghetti dinner topped off with homemade sauce (made by Cam's mom) and red wine.  Cam unfortunately ended up wearing most of his while dodging an exploding empty scotch bottle tossed into the fire.

     We drank around the fire well into the night playing a game of  "Name a song by an artist for each letter of the alphabet" ...great fun.