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As I write this, it is Sunday October 19th, 2003 at 7:30 a.m., and I am sitting at our breakfast room table alone. It is quiet with Roy still tucked away in bed with our black Lab Marley snuggled in beside him. Peter is at university in Quebec and Graeme is spending the weekend in Montreal with his Quetico/Bisco counselors and a few camp friends. The power and intensity of the friendships we forge from our times at camp always awe me. We are continually drawn together by our experiences at camp and on canoe trips, and for that reason we keep seeking each other out for reunions. I am proud that my children are experiencing these friendships as I have and my parents before me. Before I launch into a condensed version of my trip journal and our communal journal, I would like to emphasize that there just aren't the appropriate words to describe what we all experienced on the Nahanni. We will all look back upon this trip as a highlight in our lives. I know this. Twenty-five years ago my father, Dan Gibson, produced a film for his series on CBC's Wild Canada about the Nahanni River region of the NWT. I was absolutely in awe of what I saw on film, and vowed one day I would see and experience this spectacular river and it's surrounding watershed.
As Roy and I were approaching 50, it became apparent we should do it while we were still physically able. I borrowed the Nahanni film and we began showing it to TSC friends, and actively talking it up. It seemed to be a dream for many people, and one by one alumni friends "jumped on board". There was no rhyme or reason to who we talked to; we just wanted it to be camp people. Some of us were already close friends. Others were unknown to each other or merely acquaintances. But the common denominator was a strong desire to paddle this legendary river. Our trip really began in Fort Simpson at the Nahanni River Adventures Base Camp.
There Mel and Ron, our guides, supervised the packing and loading of equipment and supplies on to the Twin Otter that would fly us to Rabbit Kettle Lake—one portage away from the Nahanni River. The plane could only take 3 canoes, half the equipment, and 6 people at a time, so we had to go in two shifts. While we were waiting, Justin Trudeau and a group from the Canadian Parks and Wilderness Society came in from their trip. Justin seemed delighted to run into our group of camp alumni, and I gave him a copy of the Reunion 2000 CD, Our Algonquin Home.
Our turn came to load and board the plane, and we took off and spent the next hour and a half flying over the spectacular scenery of the MacKenzie Mountain Range.
Arriving at Rabbit Kettle Lake, we all had this wondrous sense of anticipation for the next two weeks. The lake was about 70 degrees F, the last relatively warm swim we would have for the duration of the trip. Swimming with Arctic Loons, surrounded by mountains and the Ragged Range was heaven on earth! That night we fell asleep to the sound of wolves howling in the mountains behind us. The next day we hiked five hours to and from the Tufa Mounds, past Emerald Lake (a semi-Karst Lake) with lots of signs of Grizzly along the way. Our Warden guide told us if we met up with a Grizzly, the policy was to turn around and go back to the campsite. For me that goes without saying! I wanted to see a Grizzly while in the canoe not on the path!
After a late lunch, we portaged everything over the 900 meters to the river. We were all so excited to get our first glimpse of the great Nahanni.
Over then next few days, we "reveled in the beauty of this valley, its carved and craggy walls, swiftly swirling stream and gorgeous shades of green and grey". This is a prairie river that has withstood all the upheavals of glacier activity to wind its way through the mountain range.
We sang camp songs, show songs, told jokes and laughed ourselves silly. We all had an incredible sense of utter freedom and joy. We camped at sites with names like Hell Roaring Creek and Last Chance Island. The river current moves swiftly and continuously, but there was no challenging whitewater yet. We continued to bond as a group. Up to this point, we had seen a black bear, beaver, a pack of wolves (including two pups) that howled to us when I howled at them, and a bald eagle. No Grizzlies!
On day 5 we arrived at Virginia Falls, twice the height of Niagara Falls. We spent two nights there with the intent of hiking up Sunblood Mountain.
Sadly, it rained nearly continuously and the mountain was shrouded in a pea soup fog. We did, however hike all around the "Sluice Box" and falls, and were able to get lots of fantastic pictures. We were camped with 3 other groups, and it felt a bit crowded but we had great food, friends, sponge baths and friends. Our second of two portages on the river was around Virginia Falls. Several of our group took three of the canoes and some packs over to ease the load for the next day. The portage is partly along boardwalk, mucky, narrow trails and steep switchbacks to below the falls. Our guides, Mel and Ron, were blown away by our work ethic and abilities, and we did the portage in record time. Good old TSC know how! With the falls behind us and Fourth Canyon ahead, we donned our wetsuits and sprayskirts, had a pow wow about rapid strategies, then with nervous anticipation launched our canoe into the swirling, rushing water. We quickly found ourselves in 4-foot standing waves and haystacks. For several of us this was a first and what a thrill!
With our thorough knowledge of paddling strokes, we looked and felt like pros. We continued through much faster water than we had previously experienced, practicing our strokes and eddying out occasionally to regroup and bail. We made camp in False Canyon with a "gorgeous view upstream at the throat of Painted (4th) Canyon. Sunlight highlighted the orange and yellow against the dark green and grey of the complimentary peaks". Day 8 was showtime! Figure 8 Rapids or Hell's Gate, as it is affectionately known, was upon us. We were all excited and scared from all the reports of previous trippers. No one wants to dump in these frigid 50 degree F waters. "The river turns to the right and flows up against a cliff face which creates irregular standing waves and haystacks of about 5-6 feet high.
The current then must make a sharp left turn as it flows up against a rock wall on the opposite shore of the river, creating another set of standing waves. Strong eddies and boils add to the difficulty of these rapids". We scouted the rapids with our guides looking very concerned. The water level was at mid-range, making it the most dangerous and challenging to run. After much deliberation half of us opted to walk the portage while the other half brought the canoes through the Figure 8. One by one the canoes went through, following our guides who had set up as a rescue boat in an eddy downstream. All canoes went through successfully, disappearing completely then flying up and out of a trough. The adrenaline was pumping madly! Over the next few days we paddled a lot more whitewater (George's Riffle), through the "Gate" with a hike up to view Pulpit Rock, camped in places with names such as Headless Creek and the Funeral Range. We celebrated Mark's birthday on Day 10 (August 6th) with a chocolate cake with Bailey's cream cheese icing, presents and sparklers, and a night hike through a dry canyon just above Lafferty's Riffle. We had paddled through First Canyon that day. "Everyone ran out of superlatives to describe the incredible cliffs and vistas". First Canyon was by far the most spectacular!
We ran Lafferty's Riffle (a rolling wave train) to paddle into Kraus' Hot Springs where we lounged and stretched in our first real "bath", and left our signed Reunion 2000 paddle in the old trapper's cabin there. We found another paddle left by two Wap Alumni, Heather Cameron and Mary Birdsall in 2001.
With Nahanni Butte in sight, we paddled through the "Splits". The river here has slowed down significantly and along the way we spotted a Wood Bison on river right looking remarkably like "the old test pattern on Buffalo's WBEN-TV". We camped in the "Splits" on a hot afternoon/evening and a black bear decided to swim across and check us out. He kept his distance and moved on soon after. A beautiful sunset closed the day and we slept on soft sand. The next morning we awoke to a howling wind and subsequent sandstorm. We all now know why the guides always sleep on the rocks. Nevertheless, breakfast was quickly prepared and consumed behind a canoe, and we were packed and ready to shove off in record time. We battled a ferocious headwind most of the way to the town of Nahanni Butte which is at the confluence of the Nahanni and Liard Rivers.
It was cold, drizzly and miserable as well. The Dene townspeople were wonderful, offering us the use of a gazebo, hot showers, a tour of the town and a guitar. We were cold but good spirited in the warmth of each other's company, playing cards, singing and feasting on Ron's piping hot Lasagna. The next morning we awoke to snow all over the Butte, and about 40 degrees F.
This was to be our final day on the river. We left Nahanni Butte and paddled about 45 km to Blackstone Territorial Park where we had to "sign out". There is a small visitor center and museum located just off the river. From Blackstone we paddled to Lindburgh's Landing where we were to have showers, a real bed to sleep in, and hot meals provided by Sue Lindburgh. Beer and guitars appeared, and we celebrated our two weeks together. "We are a remarkable group. We have seen the beauty of one of Canada's treasures. We have grown individually with new skills and experiences. We have made new friendships or strengthened old ones. To Ron and Melanie, our guides - thanks. To the Nahanni - à la prochaine!" Suggested Reading
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