Enjoyed the view immensely. Like the rest of the trip, the falls and the river were all ours. We took the portage river left. Some honcho should scout it on the right and see if the drop is runable in an empty boat. This was the longest portage for us so far, a quarter of a mile and the first evidence of ATV activity on the river. Big tires gorged part of the portage and turned it into a quagmire (yuck!).
At Sharp Rock, aptly named, the rocks are really sharp and the portage narrow. We carried some of the gear to the end of the portage. D
oug, feeling frisky paddled solo to the right with two duffels. He liked what he saw and joined the ranks of Hap Wilson’s “incorporeal beings” and ran the drop. After the run Trish took a video of the drop on her Nikon.
falls, sun setting beyond them, was fractured by the vast quantities of detritus, the residue of many drinking parties. Obviously locals on ATVs have a lack of respect for the environment and mother nature’s beauty. What a shame.
Things were getting more exciting. The flat water was behind us and the rapids ahead—with some unexpected twists.
A
quarter mile down was Devil Cap Falls, which we scouted from the first rock island on the left. Even though Hap Wilson says it is a mandatory carry, Doug saw a route to line. We pulled out the lining ropes, ran them through the tugeyes and glided the boat down the second chute from the left standing on the dry rock island. Check it out! Look closely at the picture and you will see the lines on the canoe.
We ran the long Devil Shoepack Rapids, multiple Class IIs with waves. This is the kind of paddling you are rewarded with for slogging it through the flats.
But there was much more excitement to the day.
At Z-Drag Rapids we scouted from the rocks in the middle of the river. It is a Class II ledge and must be scouted to find the line. We decided to run the chute on river right. We were a little lazy on the approach and got into a sideways drift just above the drop. The best maneuver at that point was to run it backwards—with aplomb. What a hoot, Doug says. Trish was totally surprised. However, the outcome was the best— a dry boat. No time for long explanations until campfire time later.Some more swifts kept it interesting but it seemed like miles to the end of Wilson’s Bend and camp. We planned on camping at the “rogue” campsite where the map indicated a road came down to river’s edge. It wasn’t really a discernable road but an overgrown trail.
Thanks to whoever tied blue plastic tape to a branch, Doug’s suspicion was confirmed that we had arrived at the site (which is uphill at bit from the river). Decent enough, better than some official sites but clear water was a hike. Evidence of bears, this time one who ate too many berries.
After a long day, the setup for camp was hampered by annoying and unrelenting black flies; surprising for late September but the day had been warm. We had not brought any bug repellant since we didn’t think we would have a bug population to deal with. So we improvised with mesh net stuff sacks, which were not adequate to keep the persistent, hungry buggers at bay.
Exciting day of just 11 miles paddled.
Passed under the lumber road bridge to Brunswick Lake.
e campsite, flat yet elevated, with a nice seat. Long day of paddling 22 miles.The campsite at the top of Thunder Falls in the woods was one of the better ones. We slept with earplugs in because it’s not called Thunder Falls for nothing. There was a great source of firewood in the form of driftwood at the bottom of the portage. We had checked it out to see how the campsite across from the bottom of the portage looked and decided to stick with what we had. Glad we did because when we got a closer look in the morning it confirmed that it would not have been worth the extra effort.
Starting with the portage meant we weren’t paddling until 10:15. We get up with the sun but there is so much to do every morning. We have a hot breakfast and coffee and always make hot soup and a thermos of tea for the day on the river. We knew this was going to be a long day—16 miles—without any rapids to break it up. A few swifts but mostly flat water. To make it more difficult, a steady rain and slight headwind made this midpoint day of the trip our least favorite. But we also knew that once we got past this “wall,” there would be plenty of thrills.
Lunch at Brunswick portage was in the rain under a spruce tree. There was just no way of staying dry, it seemed. Our mid-day thermos of soup tasted like a warm epicurean delight.
The campsite for the night had an unusual approach. It was on an unnamed island that Trish quickly dubbed Douglas Island (K 415 on Hap Wilson’s map). To get to the site we didn’t realize we took the harder right channel. Doug lined the boat while Trish scrambled up the rock prominence. In the morning, after a good sleep, it was clear that the better way to go in all circumstances would have been around the island river left. You could get to the campsite easier. The site was elevated, big, 
sheltered and yet open. Who do we petition in Ottawa to have this unnamed island named? Doug, being a Canadian native, says there are plenty of unnamed islands in Canada, something Trish wants to remedy.
This was Trish’s favorite campsite—high quality water access, the pleasant isolation of a small island.
Actually, all our campsites were isolated as we never saw a soul in the nine days on the river. We were the last one in to the provincial park put in before they literally locked the gate behind us. Supposedly the river’s popularity in the summer can cause competition for good campsites, but that was not a problem for us.
Paddled 16 miles, though it seemed like 60.
We were determined to scout Greenhill and so much wanted to avoid the portage of one mile times three trips. However, we vowed that we would not compromise common sense in the interest of avoiding a tough slough.
The top of the rapids were a quarter mile from our camp site and the rock shelf was easily accessible on river right. Were able to walk down a good 100 yards and scout the top of the rapid. Scouting is facile at least until .6 or .7 on the Mattice gauge. At the level we ran it, the top of Greenhill was definitely a class II not a class III. Furthermore, there is at least one eddy on the right that is accessible 100 yards down for any intermediate. The rest of the rapid (surprise) was probably more difficult than the top, being comprised of about a thousand aggravatingly spaced rocks, with a pushy current. We give this section an honest 2 plus, 3 minus technical rating. The top part was the easy stuff,at so low levels, but the rest of the rapid was more difficult, technical and became close to the limit of the point-and-paddle and back ferry method of canoeing. If it got more difficult and you are an expert, the way to go through the bottom section of Greenhill is using micro eddies and current differentials.
For two expert paddlers, lower Greenhill at this level would an absolute blast. Intermediates find it an adrenaline-surging workout. Others prepare for a backbreaking portage.
At higher level (above .7), rock ledges as on Greenhill on the right cause water to spill over the ledges and could give nasty hydraulics and diagonal curlers to negotiate. That gives Greenhill its fabled rating. At the same time, at about .7 meters flow, the lower part of Greenhill after the class II gets easier because a lot of the rocks get washed out and they are no longer obstacles.
If you don’t have a lot of canoeing skills, your odds of negotiating Greenhill are probably greatest at .5 or .6.
St. Peters was the first class II rapids we scouted. It involved a ledge difficult to visualize from the boat. The difficult part of St. Peters is two ledges 50 feet apart that involve two ledges and a narrow line to run. We opted for a center right course as opposed to Hap Wilson’s river left line. Our path required a tricky technical move after the second ledge, proof you have to be open to alternative possibilities (the river sending you different than you thought you were going).
Split Rock Falls portage routine. There was a neat campsite in the middle of the portage. The river compressed to about 10 feet wide but much of the falls were not visible and what you saw from bottom not as dramatic as narrowest part.
The seven miles from Split Rock to Thunder Falls was just a matter of pumping wood.
We stayed at a good camp site at the top of the falls. Don’t think you have to finish the portage for either of the two camp sites below the falls.
Total miles paddled 13.
