Day 14. Tue., July 26 (57°10’46” N, 75°07’28” W)

In which a sea kayak proves to be the right boat.

8PM  57°16’16” N, 74°46’49” W

Good paddle today. Wind from the ENE right in my face all day long but not nearly the battle I was expecting.

I made it from the cabins through all the tiny islands southwest of the Iles Simiualuit. I probably traveled only about 25km as the duck flies, as I had to hug the shore along two long, prominent east-west hills (collines on the map) to get some wind shadow. Going to say a word of thanks that it looks to be a clear and slightly breezy night.

The day began well. Though the wind was up, the sun came back out after yesterday’s downpour, and I was reinvigorated after relaxing completely last night. The temptation to stay longer was strong, but tempering it was the knowledge that I am behind schedule and I have a limited amount of food. I have a fishing rod for emergencies, but I don’t want it to come to that. The vast majority of this route carries me above the northern tree limit and there is little up here that looks like fuel for a campfire. Cooking a big fish over my tiny camp stove would be a stretch. I’d rather not do that unless I need to.

I also suffered a delay this morning because my sprayskirt suffered a catastrophic failure. About an hour after launch (following another silent thanks to both Jack and the weather gods), I put into shore to relieve myself. As I pulled the skirt back up and around me, its tube ripped away from the stretch surface, leaving a gaping hole about a third of its circumference. I just about had a meltdown on the beach. How am I going to run a 200+ km whitewater river without it? I gathered my wits as best I could and sewed it up with an awl and a length of shock cord I unthreaded from the top of my deck bag. We’ll see how well it does. I have no choice.

I thought, I wonder if I can plug the holes between stitches with something … would Aquaseal work? It’s something I never got around to trying.

What a trip this is turning into. But even a string of difficulties and constant exertion cannot distract me from the awesome beauty of this place.

Minto is big water, inspiring water. On some abstract level, I knew it would be. But I used small-scale, 1:50,000 maps to navigate the ponds and switched to a large-scale, 1:250,000 map for the lake, and somehow my perspective is just now catching up to the change. Moving an inch on the chart is the work of hours. I hug the shoreline and gaze across miles of blue, with the far horizon hazy in the distance.

Closer by, the surrounding hills are very green, tall and rocky, and there are countless erratics dotting the landscape everywhere. Tija Luste memorably compared them to chocolate jimmies, which they do resemble, except they are as gray as chocolate that has moldered for ages. The ice sheets that dropped these massive stones must have been incomprehensibly large. I’ve never set foot on Greenland, but I did fly over its southern ice field a few years back. Envisioning something like that ice blanketing this landscape stretches my imagination.

The breeze made crossings between islands and points difficult at times, but a big lake is the sort of water a sea kayak was made for. One time, rounding a point and seeing four kilometers of whitecaps ahead of me with the wind straight in my face, I stroked my kayak’s deck and told her, with a few affectionate obscenities, that it was time for some fun. We charged into the wind and pierced it like the awl punching my sprayskirt. Reaching the far shore, I felt more invigorated than tired. I clearly needed that emotional boost.

Now I have a decent campsite and a sunny, calm evening. All of my many wet clothes are spread out atop the brush and I’m crossing fingers that they will, at long last, be dry by morning. My hiking boots are still damp from days of soggy portaging and my heel blisters still hurt. Moleskin has helped but has not been a perfect solution. I am grateful that the thick lichen cover is soft and springy. I am walking around barefoot when the weather allows, and on warm dry evenings like this one, it feels wonderful.

The plan is to be on the water by 7:30 tomorrow morning if not earlier to take advantage of this great weather. Want to really make wake.