We leave in the morning at 7 without
breakfast. There are waves but nothing big. We need to cross the
lake, about 8 km in this direction, aiming for the mouth of a channel that exits the lake midway
along the eastern shore. We had crossed the lake from the south shore to the
northwest last night. Now we have to head east and a little south, staying
close together. I navigate the old way: following a compass bearing. Tristan,
on the other hand, is using a GPS app on his cell phone. (There is cell service
here for Telus, but not Bell, which is my carrier.) When we have gone a little
way, we find a row of flagged poles spaced about 50 m apart going our way so we
follow them. Soon though, they veer off
to the south, going back no doubt to the channel we paddled down
yesterday to the lake. We continue and finally intersect the north-south
flagged poles going from yesterday’s channel to the one leading to Ft Chip. Soon
enough we enter the channel.
After a few kilometers we arrive at
a rocky point: the campsite we would have camped at if we had continued toward
Ft Chip last night. The clouds have dissipated, and it is sunny and hot. We
stop for a swim, lunch, and a rest. I take the opportunity to interview most
members of the group about their reflections on the trip. A flat, 7 m-long,
metal Parks Canada barge pulls up beside us. It is David Campbell, the Parks
Canada official we spoke to last night on the cell phone, coming to check on
us. He tells a bit about the park and the area. We learn that much of Mamawi
Lake is only 2 m deep. No wonder there is so much emergent vegetation. No
wonder the local population has seen fit to install a series of flagpoles to
indicate the route across the lake. David tells us that in one recent summer,
the lake almost dried up. That summer, a kayaker took 3 days to pole his kayak across it.
The rocky point: first dry land we encounter in 24 hours
Mamawi Lake, as well as the
Athabasca River once it starts to split into channels, the lower Peace River to
the north, the west end of Lake Athabasca, and Lake Claire to the west, all
form the Peace Athabasca delta, one of the world’s largest inland deltas. It makes
up the southern half of Wood Buffalo National Park and is also recognized as a
Ramsar site. This designation of the International Union for the Conservation
of Nature (IUCN) focuses world-wide on identification and protection of
critical habitat for migratory birds. For us, the delta means that
there are few places to stop or camp in this area. We are in the middle of an
ocean of wetlands.
We continue down the channel. Our
next stop should be the community of Fort Chipewyan or Ft Chip. For a while now
we have been hearing thunder in the distance to the southwest. Howie and
Heather, in the front of our group, have Willow in their canoe with them. She
is barking and lunging at the thunder which is not making their canoe any more
stable. Meanwhile, I am now paddling with Brittany in the slowest canoe and we are
pulling up the rear. As an enormous mass of dark clouds and frequent lightning
strikes approach, we begin hugging the shoreline to reduce the risk of a
strike. There is nowhere to stop here: just willows in standing water. Brittany
starts to talk to herself, imploring people
we have met, like David Campbell, and Ron and Sara, to come and rescue us. I am
paddling as hard as I can. Then the rain starts. Initially light, it soon
becomes heavy. In a way it is a blessing as the lightning moves past us. Unfortunately,
our rain gear is in Howie and Heather’s canoe since we switched canoes a while
back.
Lake Athabasca comes into view
Finally the open lake, Lake
Athabasca, comes into sight. We arrive in a large bay. As we come around the edge
of grasses into the open water, a cold wind blows down on us. We pull up into a
small inlet among the tall emergent grasses where three canoes have gathered to
shelter from the wind. It helps but I can feel the wind sucking away my body
heat rapidly. Those of us without rain gear pull tarps over our bodies and I
instantly feel a relief from the cold. We wonder where Howie and Heather, in
the one missing canoe, have gone. We hear whistle blasts and whistle back,
noting that they are 500 m ahead on a rocky shore. We have entered the domain
of Canadian Shield, granitic rock more than a billion years old. The shore to
the north with high solid rock continues eastward into the community of Ft
Chip, population 1000, which we can also see. It is one of the oldest
communities in Alberta, established by Peter Pond
of the North West Company in 1788. The Fort was named
after the Chipewyan people
living in the area, many of whose descendants are now members of the Athabasca
Chipewyan First Nation. Their language is Dené and their Band Office is in town
but not their reserve. Their reserve lands are scattered in the area including
Poplar Point where we spent the night with Mark, Amanda and Joe. The other
First Nation here, the Mikisew Cree, do have reserve land in part of the town.
Others here are Métis.
On a rocky shore to put on rain gear
When the wind dies, three canoes paddle
the 500 m across the bay to a large rock
at the entrance to Ft Chip’s harbour,
protected from the main body of the lake by a series of islands. They continue on into the town. We
go to the shore where Howie and Heather are, to get our raingear. Even soaking
wet, we will be a lot warmer with it. We change and then paddle after the
others with Heather and Howie. The others said they would wait at the rock.
When we get there, we understand why they did not. At that spot, two currents
merge: the channel current coming into the lake and and another leaving it at a
90 degree angle, and there is a crazy mix of choppy waves making this spot a
bad place to stop. We continue across the bay and it is calm. We are home now.
We paddle in past the town to a beach where the others are loading their gear
already into Sara’s pickup truck. When it is full they leave with half of our
group. We rapidly grab everything and bring it up to the road. By the time it
is mostly done, Sara is back and we pile gear in again and in minutes are at
their house. We toss the gear in an enormous pile beside their large house and
cover it with a tarp. By this time, the rain has stopped and the weather has
started to clear.
Catholic church and "priest's house in Ft Chip
Arrival in Ft Chip
Ron is out of town until the next
day. Sara, whose teenage daughter is also there, is very hospitable
and welcoming to 10 wet travelers and their wet gear. For the remainder of the
day, the group breaks up and people are
variously showering, doing laundry, sightseeing by truck with Sara, drinking hot
tea and talking. Sara serves us supper and also picks up some moose stew and cake
from David, who has also made us supper. Both Howie and I pitch our tents
outside while the rest sleep in the house.
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