August 12, 2009: Day Three
It was a cool but comfortable night. Whenever I stirred, I could hear the soothing sound of the stream and nearby waterfall. I was up at 5:25 and feeling fine. Today, I wanted breakfast right away. I set about making my oatmeal, adding raisins, walnuts and brown sugar to make it an almost gourmet breakfast treat. Gaetan had made my coffee on the previous mornings using a cone coffee maker with a paper drip filter. This morning he gave me a lesson in how to make a proper cup this way. It made a great cup of coffee. I liked it so well that I bought one for myself as soon as I got home.
We took our time in packing up, as Gros Rousseau was a lovely spot with beautiful views. High tide was at 7:30 and we had a short paddle estimated by Google Earth to be 7.5 miles (actual distance paddled was 7.68 miles – a pretty good estimate). We were all loaded and on the water at 8:20.
The distance was short, but the scenery along this stretch of the fjord was even more dramatic than what we had seen so far. The weather was good so we took our time and paddled close to shore, exploring all the waterfalls and rock features along the way. If you check out the slide show on the Delta photo album, you’ll see some of what we saw. Click here to go to the Delta Photo Album.
As we rounded a high rock face into the bay that contained Delta camp and an adjacent national park, we noticed a kayak pulled up at its base. High on the rock wall we could make out a solo climber, about half way up. This was a very high-risk endeavor – we thought the guy was crazy!
Before heading to our campsite, we pulled into a landing at the national park to see what facilities might be available. We had heard that there would be a source for potable water and, possibly, hot showers. We found neither, but still believed that we would find one or both of these things if we hiked back later.
The landing at Delta was very different from the landings so far. Far from a boulder-strewn obstacle course to cross, we landed on a shallow and muddy beach. When we got out of our boats, we sank ankle deep into slippery clay like mud that grabbed at our feet and held us in place. Each step was an exercise in patience, as we slowly pulled one foot at a time
from the grip of the mud in trying to make progress toward the beach. We again unloaded our boats where they were, carrying our gear the usual hundred yards, this time struggling with
the grip of the slick clay mud. Frankly, I found this mud easier to navigate than the boulders, but my friends did not. Gaetan in particular hated it. The rest of us were wearing knee high Chota mukluks. Gaetan was wearing neoprene booties, that threatened to pull off with each step and soon were full of the slick and smelly stuff. Eventually, we got our gear to camp and were able to carry the boats to a grassy place above the high tide line. Then all of us looked for clear water with a firm bottom as a place to wash the offending muck from our boots and clothing.
Camp, as usual, was up a hill and this time, deep in woods with no view of the water. The area was flat with the platforms strung out in a line that paralleled the beach. Almost immediately, we
spotted a group of hikers walking on a trail from the near-by national park. The trail passed close by the sides of all our sleeping platforms. We didn’t like this much, and our concern was heightened when the next group turned left and passed through the center of our camp on their way to the beach below. We had gotten used to the solitude of the last two days. We didn’t really like the random appearance of anonymous hikers in camp.
Soon camp was set up. Gaetan was enjoying the beach which afforded a beautiful view and lots of sunshine. He sat at the picnic table soaking up the sun and warmth while Bruce explored the area. Alan was fussing about getting water and a shower at the national park that was reputed to be about 1.9 kilometers away. I volunteered to go with Alan, while the others stayed behind to watch the camp. I had changed into a fresh t-shirt and long pants for the hike. I should have left the old stuff on. The hike was considerably longer than advertised and the terrain was rugged, with constant ups and downs, and even switchbacks. And all of this in deep woods on the hottest day yet, with not a breath of air. Soon I was soaked with sweat. I was watching Alan carefully, not knowing how the heat would affect him, but he seemed fine. The trail seemed like it would never end. When we emerged into a parking lot, there was no clear sign as to which way we should go. We wandered around for awhile, then found a road that eventually took us to a gift shop and cafeteria. Halleluiah!
Our euphoria was short lived, however, as this location had no potable water and no showers. We would have to walk another four kilometers to find those luxuries. We consoled ourselves with coffee, Gatoraid and Klondike Bars. Alan bought a dozen bottles of water and we headed back to camp, knowing that a shower would be futile in the heat and humidity. I offered to carry the water a half-dozen times, but Alan was stubborn and wanted to prove to himself that he could do it.
We got back to camp hours later than we expected. The tide was most of the way in, so Bruce and Gaetan launched their boats to paddle across to the park. It took them ten minutes to reach the park as compared to our sixty minutes. They didn’t have any better luck than we did however, and were soon back empty handed. It was my turn to cook. The meal was Pad Thai, easily made using ramen noodles and a prepared Pad Thai sauce, garnished with packaged shrimp and crushed peanuts. Well actually, we used crushed cashews because that’s what we had, but it was still good and authentic enough for the trail. Bruce and Alan did clean-up, then we all sat around, watching the sun set behind the western walls of the
fjord. It was a peaceful and beautiful time. A great Blue Heron alighted in the grass to our left and began hunting for his dinner. We watched him for quite some time, until his hunt took him out of sight. We lit a campfire and sat talking quietly until well after dark. One by one we drifted off to our tents. It would be an unusually warm night.
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