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ESCAPE to the NORTH


Page 1

Hello; My name is Jean Pall. I am an Artist, at least I like to think I am. I paint on canvas and try to make a living at it. Before I started my escape to the north, I had lived in Toronto, Ont. Canada. I had lived in cities for most of my life, but my heart always longed for the great outdoors, the true wilderness. I had read from a very young age, many books on the buckskin mountain men, the voyagers, and the lives of early settlers and the like. I imagined being one of those people in these stories. I had also seen many movies that dealt with these subjects in living colour, and I guess that only planted that wilderness seed deeper in my mind. What had prevented me from going into the wilderness, I can't really say. Maby I was just too much of a people person and the thought of being alone in the wilderness may have been part of the reason why I had not followed that dream. Or maby there is some deep seated fear inside me that I don't know about, yet. Whatever the reason I had not pursued that wilderness dream until now, in my later years, I will not dwell upon that right now. But during one February, in the year of 2002 C.E., I had given this wilderness yearning of mine a real going over. I said to myself, Jean, here you are 58 years of age and have during all of those years, pushed that wilderness yearning to the back of your mind. Never giving yourself the chance to really go for it. If you don't do it now, at this late stage of your life, you never will. So, as an old northern expression say.... "Shit, or get off the pot." before you get too old to try it, was what that small voice somewhere deep inside me kept telling me. So I finally made up my mind to leave the city life and turn a new leaf, so to speak, and start that new life, the great northern adventure. At least that is how I felt about it at that time. During the months leading up to May, I had gathered camping supplies and all of my personal "what not's" that I had to have and take with me. By the time I had packed all of the gear that I was going to take with me, including "How to live in the wilderness" books, I had one large airport type luggage with those little wheels and extended handle, the size of a small trunk, two medium size likewise type of luggage, a duffle bag and a large shoulder bag. I was going to be prepared for anything that I would encounter in the wilderness. Then the long wait for May to arrive began. During that waiting period , I wondered if I was doing the right thing, or maby I had better not do this. I had looked at maps of Ontario and looked at outdoor type web sites on my computer to see where I should go. I had once taken a canoe trip by my self from Mattawa to Toronto, a few years back. I went through some real wilderness like county, but all along the route, I had noticed many cottages that had dotted the shoreline. As I went further down the Ottawa River, I had encountered more of the same all through to Ottawa and on down the Rideau River. I remember that I had not encountered any trappers during that voyage. My original plan was to go where I would be sure to meet trappers who may need someone to give them a hand at their trade and hook up with one and learn the ropes, so to speak, as to how one really lives in the wilderness. Now I had a pretty good idea, being that I did do a lot of camping in those times when I had to just get away from it all. After studying the map and its river systems, I had picked South River as a starting point. It looked to me like a very likely place to start, being that it was located around a large wilderness area that seem not to be heavily populated. I had tracked the weather for that area during the early part of May to see what the day and night time temperatures were. In Toronto, it was getting quite warm that I needed not a coat when I went out at night. By May 20th, I had phoned the Goodwill CENTER to take all of my things that I was leaving behind in my apartment. They sell these things and provide help to the needy. By May 24th, I had phoned for a cab at a phone booth to take me and my luggage to the bus station. When the cab arrived to my place, he could not take all of my luggage, especially the big one that was like a trunk. He told me that I needed a van or a pick-up truck or at least a station wagon. That cab outfit had none of those in its fleet. I then had to phone another cab company and explained my problem to them and they sent over a suburban at extra cost, but I did not mind at this point in time as long as I got to the bus station before my bus left the station. After loading the luggage aboard the bus, I got on the bus and found an empty seat. I looked at Toronto slipping by my window as we made our way to the main highway, thinking... well, this is it, for better or for worse. Somehow, I began to feel uneasy about this whole thing, like it was one big mistake. I really had to shake that uneasy feeling off by getting something to read. I found a magizine someone had left behind. It was a travel guide of Ontario. I found the artical about the area of Lake Timiskaming very interesting. It spoke mostly of its early history. I decided to keep this mag for further reading. It had a map showing the lake and the Ottawa river system down to Mattawa. I arrived at South River by four in the afternoon. South River is a small town, spread out somewhat that one has to do a lot of walking to get around town if a person do not have a vehicle. I phoned for a cab to take me to a Hotel or an Inn. I was brought to Algonquian Motel that was on the Trans-Canada Highway. I had rented a small cabin at $50.00 per day being that it was very early in the tourist season. Tim, the owner, is a real swell guy. A hippie from the sixties. The food that his wife prepared was excellent, the real home cooked type meal one would get from a mother. I had asked Tim if I would be able to buy a good second-hand canoe here in town. There were no privet sales to be had, but there was a company on the outskirts of town that made canoe's and they may have second-hand ones there. After a real good night sleep and a hardy breakfast of bacon and eggs, potatoes and toast with some coffee, with a smoke to go along with it, I was ready to start a new day. I got a cab to take me to the Swift Canoe Manufacturing Co. I asked the owner if he had any good second-hand canoes on hand. He did and brought me to a rack that held six canoes. All of the canoes were large, 18 ft. cargo type heavy canoes, ( they were made of fibreglass) and had been patched up. Right at once, the weight of the canoes discouraged me at the outset, but when the owner had said he wanted a thousand dollars for any one of these patched-up canoes, I said forget it. I knew that I could get a brand new, lightweight canoe for $400.00 at Canadian Tire when I had bought one in North Bay for that Mattawa to Toronto canoe trip I had made. I went back to the Algonquian Motel to consult my map and do some heavy thinking of what to do next. I brought out that magazine that I had found on the bus and had a good look at that Timiskaming Lake area. New Liskeard was the major city of the area, located at the Northwestern end of Lake Timiskaming. I was trying to decide to go to North Bay, get a canoe there and then paddle up towards New Liskeard where it was for me, the end of the line. I thought about going to New Liskeard by bus, get a canoe there and paddle down. But where would I be if I did not find a trapper along the way? I would be heading towards heavily populated area's far to the south, somewhere on the St. Lawrence River. If something went wrong with my plans, not finding a trapper to tag along with, I would rather get stuck around the Northern, New Liskeard area, than somewhere down south where all the heavy pollution is. By the time I got on the bus in South River, and was heading towards North Bay, I had finally made up my mind to take the North Bay to New Liskeard route. I had got on the bus in South River around four in the afternoon and had arrived in North Bay around 5 pm. or so. After unloading my luggage from the bus, I was left standing on the platform waiting for a taxi to come along that could take all of my luggage. A mini van taxi pulled up and I asked the driver if he could take me to the Canadian Tire store. He gave me a quizzing look at me and my luggage, that I felt I needed to explain myself and what I was planing to do. That seemed to help a little. By the time we arrived to the Canadian Tire store, we had agreed that he would take me to Trout lake where we can launch the canoe. Going inside the store, I had asked a floor- person if he could ask the manager if I could buy that canoe on display that had already been fully assembled. I explained that I would be buying it in cash and that I had a taxi waiting for me outside to transport the canoe, my gear and me to Trout Lake. The manager of the store let me take the already assembled canoe. I bought a life jacket and paddles to go with it. total cost; canoe $560.00, Life jacket $40.00 and paddles $48.00. Total cost; $648.00 not bad, compaired to the cost of a patched-up fiberglass canoe at $1,000.00 in South River. We had no problem to load the canoe aboard the mini-van and was soon heading towards Trout Lake. Keith had told me that I could camp on a little island that belonged to the city. I had washrooms, fire pits, picnic tables and it was free. So I had planned to go there and use the time to sort-out the gear and make things ship-shape, so to speak. Keith and I unloaded the canoe and gear and after saying our good-by's, I was left standing on the wharf, looking for that island in a thick fog. I loaded all the luggage and gear into the canoe and headed out to where that island was supposed to be.

Getting under way..

I started paddling to where Keith had pointed out where I was to find that island. It sure do not take long for a person like me to start feeling like I had no idea where I was paddling to in this thick soup of vapour. But I pressed on looking back at my wake to make sure I was paddling in a straight line. After what seemed like hours, I had still not come upon that Island. Then I felt a breeze coming on and I decided to wait for the fog to clear up. After a little while it did and I saw land up ahead. From what I could see, the shore was one tangle mess that it would be very hard to find a camping place. So I decided to follow westward, along the shoreline and see if I could find that camping area that Keith had talked about. I must have paddled for over an hour and the shoreline was no better that when I had first sighted the land. Then I rounded a bend and a little up the hill stood someone's house or large cottage. Right away I knew that this place was not that Island. By now the fog had totally cleared up and I could see the opposite shore, where I had paddled from. I dug into my luggage and got my binoculars and scanned that shoreline. I could see the wharf where I had launched the canoe, but as to that Island? I could not find it. Not the one that Keith had told me about. I saw a little sort of an island and decided to head that way. When I had arrived there, the Island was so low that water ran through it. There was no place to set up a tent there. Then I heard a loud thunderclap and a bolt of lighting flashed by. I looked up to the clouds, and they were very dark. It looked like it was going to downpour any minute. I had not wanted to go back to that landing place because there were houses close by, so I headed back to where I first sighted land and hope to find a camping place before it started to rain. I had not found a good camping spot so I finally decided to head for a spot between two huge boulders and made for it, given the situation I found myself in. As soon as I had landed, of course it started to rain. I quickly fished for my tent and somehow managed to set it up, wedged between the two huge boulders. Then I got the luggage and gear into the tent before it all got soaked. I had barley any room in the tent being squatted up between my luggage and gear. I managed to change and get some dry clothes on me. Boy it sure got cold all of the sudden. I found my little, single burner camp stove and made some coffee while the tent heated up to where I was no longer shivering. I was thinking... What a great way to start this trip. Unfortunately, this rain lasted for three days, being cramped up in the tent all the while. Boy, was the night air cold. Finally, one day, the sun broke through the clouds and there was sunshine that it seemed I had not seen for the longest of time and feel its warmth. I bailed out the canoe by tipping it over and then loaded the luggage and gear into the canoe. What a real soggy mess I had here. I paddled eastward to where the Mattawa River ought to be. I noticed a good spot of bare ground with no houses around, so I landed there and set up my wet tent. Then I spread out all the luggage and other gear to dry in the sun. Now I was finally able to do some cooking and stop the growling in my stomach. I had spread out my sleeping bag because it felt very damp. By noon, everything was good and dry. I set up my luggage and gear in my 9X7 dome tent and had plenty of place for my sleeping and cooking area. Now this is what life was meant to be.

Today is May 30th. 2002. Overcast with little sun, and cold, +4 Celsius. I had a real good night sleep and woke up late, 8: A.M. After making breakfast of bacon and eggs, I stowed the luggage and the rest of the gear into the canoe and took the tent down and put it away where it was very handy. I now have my compass and a map to help guide my way. By noon, I had found the head of the Mattawa River, after taking a wrong detour that took me to a dead end and I had to double back a little ways and entered a narrow channel that opened up to the river proper. What a beautiful vista opened up in front of me. I would have enjoyed it more, if it were not so cold! I paddled through a deep valley that blocked what little sun and warmth was at hand. I arrived to a lake that had many islands scattered about. I picked one that had a good open spot, not heavily wooded so that what sun shone through, I would get the full benefit of its warmth. I decided to make camp because it sure was cold today. I set up the tent in no time at all, and had everything stowed away. I made some coffee, more to warm up the tent, but the coffee felt good as my cup warmed up my hands. I have no gloves with me. I had somehow left them behind back at the apartment in Toronto. I had no idea that it was going to be this cold. The temperature is still only +4 Celsius. I stayed in my sleeping bag for most of the rest of the day.

May 31st: 2004 turned out to be such a nice day with a high of +9 degree Celsius. I decided to stay in camp to soak up some heat. I spread myself on the rocks and let the sun do its job. By 4 P.M. I decided to go and explore the other Islands that were about the lake. I took with me my map case, paddles and the life jacket as a cushion for my knees. I explored a few Islands that were more wooded than the one I was on. As I started to make my way back to my Island, the wind started and it began to feel cold once again. I only had a shirt, pants and my boots on. When I got halfway back, a sudden strong gust of wind blew that had come from the deep valley and lifted the bow of my canoe high up into the air as if a giant invisible hand had grabbed the bow and promptly flipped the canoe end over end. In the next second, I found myself in the water. I began to swim after my life jacket, but it skidded down the lake as if it had sails on it. Then I was going after the paddles, but something deep inside me told me to go after the canoe. I got to the canoe and made my way into it and tried to bail some water out. But that did not work because the canoe just sank from under me. I then tried to slosh out some water by rocking the hull side to side and then tried to slip in, but the canoe kept sinking from under me. These built-in buoyancy tanks that were built as part of the seats were totally useless. So after wasting all that precious time, I finally grabbed the bow rope and clenched it between my teeth and back stroked to the nearest land mass. When I finally had reached it, and climbed a steep rock face, I tied the canoe to a stunted tree and made my way up to the top of the hill. I was by now so tired and cold that I could hardly walk because I was shaking so hard. I stripped down everything I had on and laid on the moss covered rock to get whatever warmth it had to offer. It felt so good but it was not stopping my shaking one bit. I then got up and wrung out my wet clothes as best I could and put these back on, along with my wet socks and boots. I saw that I was still quite a ways from my Island, and by now the sun had sunk behind the high hills that surrounded me and it felt like it could snow in this freezing weather. I knew that I had better get back to the Island and into my sleeping bag and get some hot coffee down inside me before I die from hyperthermia. I clambered down the steep rock face and managed to haul up the canoe and tip it over to drain the water out. Then I climbed back up that rock face to find some thick stick that I could use as a paddle. Found one and made my way back to the canoe. I paddled low in the canoe, least it flip up over again, and made my way back to the Island. I completely beached the canoe up on high ground and then stripped my wet clothes off and got into the sleeping bag, all the while shaking like I never have done before. I managed to pump up the little single burner camp stove, for the main camp stove had no fule in it, and somehow got it lighted and set a pot of water on it. I tried to spoon some instant coffee into my cup, but I was shaking so much that it would not stay on the spoon. I finally gave up and just shook some coffee from the jar. I was not able to get much sugar into the cup, most of it went on the floor. After two cups of coffee, and some cold meat I had left over from lunch, I was still shaking like mad. I had kept the stove going all the while. It was quite some time later when the severe shaking had quieted down somewhat. I decided to just sleep it off. When I awoke sometime during the night, I would just get the shudder in little sperts but they were not as severe as before. I lighted a candle and made some more coffee to heat the tent and myself. I listen to the radio and it said it was -2 degree Celsius. I reflected how warm the days, and even the nights were back in Toronto that it was very hard to fantom how it could be so cold now. After a couple of hours, I went back to sleep.

June 1st: I awoke about 10: A.M. feeling quite warm now. I get into some dry clothes and put on another pair of boots. Made some breakfast of pancakes and sausage along with some coffee and a cigarette to top it off. Thinking back, I was glad that I was a good swimmer and that I had kept my cool. By two o'clock, I heard some voices that seemed to be coming from a long way off. I looked around but I could not see where the sound was coming from. So I got out my binoculars and scanned about in the direction I had heard where the voices had come from. My 50 power binoculars picked out a houseboat on one of the far Islands ahead of me. I decided to go over there and have a look. I dug into one of my luggage and found a mirror with a stout plastic frame on it that was shaped like a paddle and I taped the handle onto my stick with duck tape and that made a proper paddle. Then I got the canoe into the water and paddled over to that houseboat I had seen by a distant Island. When I got there, I asked the man if he had a spare map of this area on hand. I explained how I had come to loose my map case. When the man realized that I had paddled to his houseboat from my Island with that makeshift paddle, he promptly gave me a spare map and a canoe paddle. I wanted to pay for these, but he would have none of that. I thanked the people, whom I just can't remember their names, but I will always remember their kindness. After a while, I departed to return to my Island. The man's wife had given me some homemade chocolate fudge. I paddled back to my Island with the new red paddle. I made a hearty supper as I watched that houseboat making its way back to Trout Lake. I waved back to them with the red paddle.

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