Grand Lake
6/24/2003 - 6/26/2003
The first several days of our expedition involved crossing the length of Grand
Lake from east to west. Eager to get underway and lucky to have generally
calm conditions, we made steady progress and enjoyed our time on the
flatwater. Afternoon thunderstorms on day two slowed us some, but by noon
on the third day we had completed Grand Lake and reached Susan Brook.
Such an easy start to the trip provided a perfect shakedown period and left us
ready for the challenge to come.
6/24/2003 - 6/26/2003
The first several days of our expedition involved crossing the length of Grand
Lake from east to west. Eager to get underway and lucky to have generally
calm conditions, we made steady progress and enjoyed our time on the
flatwater. Afternoon thunderstorms on day two slowed us some, but by noon
on the third day we had completed Grand Lake and reached Susan Brook.
Such an easy start to the trip provided a perfect shakedown period and left us
ready for the challenge to come.
6/24
Starting expeditions is always difficult for me. During the month sand often
years of planning required to launch a big trip you have complete control over
everything that happens. Starting a trip requires letting go, and giving up
some of that control. In the moments leading up to departure you still have
time to second guess yourself, time to worry about a forgotten item or a
poorly planned meal, time to worry. Things become much simpler once you
are underway and contacting the outside world is no longer an option. In the
bush there is no sense in worrying about missing items since there is no way
to go back and change things. On a trip your team must deal with problems
as they come and worrying about things that are out of your control makes
little sense.
Our last morning in civilization for the next fifty days saw us mailing clean
clothes to Kangiqsualujjuaq, our final destination, and buying last minute food
supplies. Once these logistics were taken care of, the twenty minute ride to
Northwest River Post was simple. It was exciting to see the renovated Hudson
Bay Company building still standing exactly were it did one hundred years
ago when this was even more of a frontier.
Starting expeditions is always difficult for me. During the month sand often
years of planning required to launch a big trip you have complete control over
everything that happens. Starting a trip requires letting go, and giving up
some of that control. In the moments leading up to departure you still have
time to second guess yourself, time to worry about a forgotten item or a
poorly planned meal, time to worry. Things become much simpler once you
are underway and contacting the outside world is no longer an option. In the
bush there is no sense in worrying about missing items since there is no way
to go back and change things. On a trip your team must deal with problems
as they come and worrying about things that are out of your control makes
little sense.
Our last morning in civilization for the next fifty days saw us mailing clean
clothes to Kangiqsualujjuaq, our final destination, and buying last minute food
supplies. Once these logistics were taken care of, the twenty minute ride to
Northwest River Post was simple. It was exciting to see the renovated Hudson
Bay Company building still standing exactly were it did one hundred years
ago when this was even more of a frontier.
Expedition Journal
Our morning errands had taken longer than anticipated and
while it is true that . At 5:30 the first strokes of the Hubbard
Memorial Expedition were taken. It is such a huge relief to be
underway. The paddle across the four miles of Little Lake’s brown
waters is quick and uneventful. Our first challenge is attaining “The
Rapids”, an area of fast water where Grand Lake flows out into
Little Lake and on to Hamilton Inlet. While Hubbard had to line up
this section, we managed to use eddies along the shore to paddle
up against the flow and break out onto the waters of Grand
Lake. All views of Northwest River Post were gone and our
isolation from society was underway. Grand Lake is nearly forty
five miles long and rather narrow. From our vantage, a long
headland extended into the lake from the south and lower wooded
hills lay to the north. The large lake was calm with a crossing
tailwind and a strong evening sun producing a glare making us glad
to have our sunglasses. As the day wore on the afternoon wind
eased up and the lake turned to a sheet of glass. We wanted to
take advantage of these perfect paddling conditions, but it didn’t
make sense to burn ourselves out on the first day. By 8:45 pm we
had covered just over ten miles, and since campsites seemed
sparse, decided to start our search for a place to spend the
night.
while it is true that . At 5:30 the first strokes of the Hubbard
Memorial Expedition were taken. It is such a huge relief to be
underway. The paddle across the four miles of Little Lake’s brown
waters is quick and uneventful. Our first challenge is attaining “The
Rapids”, an area of fast water where Grand Lake flows out into
Little Lake and on to Hamilton Inlet. While Hubbard had to line up
this section, we managed to use eddies along the shore to paddle
up against the flow and break out onto the waters of Grand
Lake. All views of Northwest River Post were gone and our
isolation from society was underway. Grand Lake is nearly forty
five miles long and rather narrow. From our vantage, a long
headland extended into the lake from the south and lower wooded
hills lay to the north. The large lake was calm with a crossing
tailwind and a strong evening sun producing a glare making us glad
to have our sunglasses. As the day wore on the afternoon wind
eased up and the lake turned to a sheet of glass. We wanted to
take advantage of these perfect paddling conditions, but it didn’t
make sense to burn ourselves out on the first day. By 8:45 pm we
had covered just over ten miles, and since campsites seemed
sparse, decided to start our search for a place to spend the
night.
Instead of vital supplies and everything anyone in the tiny village could want. the building now houses a small collection of artifacts from the original
Hubbard Expedition. A glass case contained Hubbard’s compass, camera, fishing pole, ammunition and myriad other pieces of gear carried.
Wallace’s hat, and even the moccasins they boiled in a desperate attempt to nourish themselves near the end were present. Two photo albums
held pictures from the 1903 expedition and gave a vague idea of what to expect farther upstream.
After the tour Keith’s van was emptied, and our entire outfit loaded into the two canoes. This work was done in a quite remarkable setting. A
southeasterly breeze blew waves in from Hamilton Inlet and the snow covered Mealy Mountains stood majestically in the high afternoon sun. During
these final preparations I couldn’t help but think back to how Hubbard must have felt as he stood in this exact spot one hundred years ago and
prepared to push off into a virtually unknown wilderness with only a hand sketched map. Perhaps the task seems more daunting to us knowing
what lies ahead. Maybe ignorance of the hardships to come was bliss to Hubbard and his crew. This was not the last time I would sit and wonder
what thoughts were going through Hubbard’s mind as he toiled through the woods of Labrador. The farther into the trip we went, the closer the
connection I felt between myself and our 1903 predecessors.
Hubbard Expedition. A glass case contained Hubbard’s compass, camera, fishing pole, ammunition and myriad other pieces of gear carried.
Wallace’s hat, and even the moccasins they boiled in a desperate attempt to nourish themselves near the end were present. Two photo albums
held pictures from the 1903 expedition and gave a vague idea of what to expect farther upstream.
After the tour Keith’s van was emptied, and our entire outfit loaded into the two canoes. This work was done in a quite remarkable setting. A
southeasterly breeze blew waves in from Hamilton Inlet and the snow covered Mealy Mountains stood majestically in the high afternoon sun. During
these final preparations I couldn’t help but think back to how Hubbard must have felt as he stood in this exact spot one hundred years ago and
prepared to push off into a virtually unknown wilderness with only a hand sketched map. Perhaps the task seems more daunting to us knowing
what lies ahead. Maybe ignorance of the hardships to come was bliss to Hubbard and his crew. This was not the last time I would sit and wonder
what thoughts were going through Hubbard’s mind as he toiled through the woods of Labrador. The farther into the trip we went, the closer the
connection I felt between myself and our 1903 predecessors.
The best site we could come up with was a beach hidden behind a point on the south side of the lake. A long abandoned cabin lay in ruins a ways
in the woods and there were enough clearings in the dense vegetation to set up tents. Although I was wearing my bug shirt, the mosquitoes were
not out of control when we set up camp.
A large pile of driftwood swept up by the prevailing northwest wind provided fuel for a hot campfire on the beach. The fire let us boil water and cook
on our grill allowing fuel to be saved. Bean and cheese tortillas were the food for the day. In all, camp chores took us around two hours from start
to finish. I was happy with the days work and excited to see I was able to keep up with the tandem canoe. By ten thirty dusk was falling quickly and
we headed to the tents around 11:15pm with the sky starting to cloud from the west. Hopefully calm conditions will prevail and we can make the end
of the lake by tomorrow. Mosquitoes are buzzing around the tent now. Some chirping frogs give the night a familiar sound even though we are very
far away from home. Glad to be moving. My only concern is that we wasted half of a calm day. Taking care of the errands and chores this morning
took way longer than it had to. This was frustrating, but everything is alright now. Great first day.
6/25
The day’s weather began a little ominously. I woke up at 4:30 am to a steady drizzle pattering on the walls of the tent. I was up and out of the tent
by 6:15 and had my camp broken by seven. A quick fishing trip produced no results so I returned and managed to start a fire with some dry bark
and driftwood. Water was boiled up and tortellini made. Lots of food for this breakfast. The weather was very humid and hot, with the day heating
even more once some fog and morning clouds burnt off. A strong sun and scorching temperatures with calm skies gave us good paddling
conditions for most of the day. Thirty miles were made on glass like conditions! The southern shore of the lake became steep headlands
interspersed with brownish rust colored cliff faces plummeting up to 200 feet into the water. Lunch was floated to stay on the water away from the
insects.
in the woods and there were enough clearings in the dense vegetation to set up tents. Although I was wearing my bug shirt, the mosquitoes were
not out of control when we set up camp.
A large pile of driftwood swept up by the prevailing northwest wind provided fuel for a hot campfire on the beach. The fire let us boil water and cook
on our grill allowing fuel to be saved. Bean and cheese tortillas were the food for the day. In all, camp chores took us around two hours from start
to finish. I was happy with the days work and excited to see I was able to keep up with the tandem canoe. By ten thirty dusk was falling quickly and
we headed to the tents around 11:15pm with the sky starting to cloud from the west. Hopefully calm conditions will prevail and we can make the end
of the lake by tomorrow. Mosquitoes are buzzing around the tent now. Some chirping frogs give the night a familiar sound even though we are very
far away from home. Glad to be moving. My only concern is that we wasted half of a calm day. Taking care of the errands and chores this morning
took way longer than it had to. This was frustrating, but everything is alright now. Great first day.
6/25
The day’s weather began a little ominously. I woke up at 4:30 am to a steady drizzle pattering on the walls of the tent. I was up and out of the tent
by 6:15 and had my camp broken by seven. A quick fishing trip produced no results so I returned and managed to start a fire with some dry bark
and driftwood. Water was boiled up and tortellini made. Lots of food for this breakfast. The weather was very humid and hot, with the day heating
even more once some fog and morning clouds burnt off. A strong sun and scorching temperatures with calm skies gave us good paddling
conditions for most of the day. Thirty miles were made on glass like conditions! The southern shore of the lake became steep headlands
interspersed with brownish rust colored cliff faces plummeting up to 200 feet into the water. Lunch was floated to stay on the water away from the
insects.
As the day progressed thunderclouds could be seen
gathering and building around us. Strange hot and cold
breezes blew through the lake, probably caused by the
convection of the storms producing occasional downdrafts of
cool air. In the afternoon a line could be seen in the
distance on the lake. About a half hour after seeing the line
we met with it, and a steady headwind hit, making for tough
paddling. The wind increased steadily until we were near
Cape Law. Here, a mere five miles from Susan Brook, the
wind began to blow hard enough to shut us down and
thunderstorms began to look imminent.
We waited and watched a few distant storms approach from
the west. They seemed to be heading north of us over the
mouth of the Naskaupee River, but the breeze was picking
up and the rumbles of thunder starting to seem pretty close.
Eventually a storm seemed almost guaranteed, so we
headed through a barrier of thick alders and into the dense
forest to seek out campsites. The woods were incredibly
humid and the air thick and hot. A frightening swarm of
insects attacked us here and the mesh bug shirt I was
wearing under my dickies button down was a true life saver.
I set my tent on a relatively flat piece of ground covered in
dense moss amid tangled and fallen spruce trees.
After setting the tents we headed back to the rocky beach
and ate a quick MRE dinner as the lightning and thunder
grew closer. Gusty wind and sheets of rain at the far end of
the lake sent us scrambling to tie off boats and stash gear
safely. I am in the tent now listening to rain pelting.
Thunder is more frequent and the humidity and sticky heat
is unbearable. Hopefully the storm will cool things off a
little. Twenty minutes later and the worse of the storm
seems to have moved past. Sun is setting through distant
storm clouds. It is windy now and more storms seem very
likely. Hopefully the weather will be cooler tomorrow as we
start our ascent of Susan Brook. Tired now, going to sleep
for the night.
6/26 Woke up to clear blue skies with a headwind still on
us. Paddled hard up the south side of the lake for an hour
or so after having a breakfast of rice in tortillas. Rounding
Cape Law reveals the end of Grand Lake, with an opening
leading to Susan Brook apparent in the northwest corner.
We headed for the opening and made a mile and a half
open water crossing to the north side of the lake. The wind
built while making the crossing, forcing me to paddle all out
in the solo boat to avoid being turned sideways and blown
back down the lake. Any open water crossing is sketchy if a
wind builds and we must seek to avoid it whenever possible
in the future.
At the far end of Grand Lake we made our way against a
weak current into another pond expansion called Nardinni
Lake. A good lunch was had on a breezy beach where the
flies were kept at bay enough to enjoy the food without
having to cram bites under a partly unzipped headnet.
The small lake is crossed and the mouth of Susan Brook is
reached at last. The current is slow and the stream is only
thirty yards wide with sandy banks and muddy shorelines.
Some wolf tracks are spotted in the mud. We got out at the
mouth of the brook and took a few pictures. Again, I
wondered what Hubbard had been thinking when he arrived
here in 1903. He had been told the Naskaupi River entered
Grand Lake at its end. Based on that knowledge it seems
reasonable that Hubbard mistook this for the Naskaupi. We
didn’t see the Beaver River from here at all, and the only
reason the Naskaupi Valley was apparent was because we
knew where to look. However, Hubbard had been told a
trapper had sailed up the Naskaupi for fifteen miles. The
Susan was to shallow to sail up for even one mile. In my
opinion Hubbard should have taken this into consideration
and perhaps been more careful and thorough in his search
for the Naskaupi River.
gathering and building around us. Strange hot and cold
breezes blew through the lake, probably caused by the
convection of the storms producing occasional downdrafts of
cool air. In the afternoon a line could be seen in the
distance on the lake. About a half hour after seeing the line
we met with it, and a steady headwind hit, making for tough
paddling. The wind increased steadily until we were near
Cape Law. Here, a mere five miles from Susan Brook, the
wind began to blow hard enough to shut us down and
thunderstorms began to look imminent.
We waited and watched a few distant storms approach from
the west. They seemed to be heading north of us over the
mouth of the Naskaupee River, but the breeze was picking
up and the rumbles of thunder starting to seem pretty close.
Eventually a storm seemed almost guaranteed, so we
headed through a barrier of thick alders and into the dense
forest to seek out campsites. The woods were incredibly
humid and the air thick and hot. A frightening swarm of
insects attacked us here and the mesh bug shirt I was
wearing under my dickies button down was a true life saver.
I set my tent on a relatively flat piece of ground covered in
dense moss amid tangled and fallen spruce trees.
After setting the tents we headed back to the rocky beach
and ate a quick MRE dinner as the lightning and thunder
grew closer. Gusty wind and sheets of rain at the far end of
the lake sent us scrambling to tie off boats and stash gear
safely. I am in the tent now listening to rain pelting.
Thunder is more frequent and the humidity and sticky heat
is unbearable. Hopefully the storm will cool things off a
little. Twenty minutes later and the worse of the storm
seems to have moved past. Sun is setting through distant
storm clouds. It is windy now and more storms seem very
likely. Hopefully the weather will be cooler tomorrow as we
start our ascent of Susan Brook. Tired now, going to sleep
for the night.
6/26 Woke up to clear blue skies with a headwind still on
us. Paddled hard up the south side of the lake for an hour
or so after having a breakfast of rice in tortillas. Rounding
Cape Law reveals the end of Grand Lake, with an opening
leading to Susan Brook apparent in the northwest corner.
We headed for the opening and made a mile and a half
open water crossing to the north side of the lake. The wind
built while making the crossing, forcing me to paddle all out
in the solo boat to avoid being turned sideways and blown
back down the lake. Any open water crossing is sketchy if a
wind builds and we must seek to avoid it whenever possible
in the future.
At the far end of Grand Lake we made our way against a
weak current into another pond expansion called Nardinni
Lake. A good lunch was had on a breezy beach where the
flies were kept at bay enough to enjoy the food without
having to cram bites under a partly unzipped headnet.
The small lake is crossed and the mouth of Susan Brook is
reached at last. The current is slow and the stream is only
thirty yards wide with sandy banks and muddy shorelines.
Some wolf tracks are spotted in the mud. We got out at the
mouth of the brook and took a few pictures. Again, I
wondered what Hubbard had been thinking when he arrived
here in 1903. He had been told the Naskaupi River entered
Grand Lake at its end. Based on that knowledge it seems
reasonable that Hubbard mistook this for the Naskaupi. We
didn’t see the Beaver River from here at all, and the only
reason the Naskaupi Valley was apparent was because we
knew where to look. However, Hubbard had been told a
trapper had sailed up the Naskaupi for fifteen miles. The
Susan was to shallow to sail up for even one mile. In my
opinion Hubbard should have taken this into consideration
and perhaps been more careful and thorough in his search
for the Naskaupi River.
| Either way, we were about to intentionally repeat Hubbard’s mistake and make our way up the Susan Brook, which Wallace described as the Valley of the Shadow of Death with only the most tragic of memories associated with it. |
Troy and Jim stand where we landed for our first evening's camp of the
Hubbard Memorial Centennial Expedition.
Hubbard Memorial Centennial Expedition.
We were treated to smooth conditions for most of our first day of paddling across Grand
Lake. Getting started was a huge relief and we were all eager to make some miles.
Lake. Getting started was a huge relief and we were all eager to make some miles.
Here I am in my new canoe looking clean shaven and full of energy about half way through the
long paddle across Grand Lake.
long paddle across Grand Lake.
Heavy wind and some rapidly approaching thunderstorms forced us to set up camp quickly in
some thick woods at the end our second day on the expedition. At least the thick moss made for
comfortable sleeping.
some thick woods at the end our second day on the expedition. At least the thick moss made for
comfortable sleeping.
Troy and Jim cruising along on an almost glassy Grand Lake a little less than an hour before a
front moved in, blew up rough whitecaps, and ushered in a cluster of thunderstorms. In Labrador
the weather can change in an instant.
front moved in, blew up rough whitecaps, and ushered in a cluster of thunderstorms. In Labrador
the weather can change in an instant.