Manigotagan River Trip 5: Poplar Falls to Hwy 304 at Wood Falls

Tent at Poplar Falls campsite, sunrise before the storm

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I awoke bright and early on what appeared to be a beautiful morning. Sure enough, light clouds and sunshine at 5:30. I got my cup of coffee going and planned to give James another hour of sleep while I kept diary. I decided to bring one of the crude benches to the top of the hill to have a better view. But by the time I got situated, the weather had turned. A bank of dark clouds had appeared pactically out of nowhere and I decided to give the tent a rattle to get James going. He must have heard the urgency in my voice because he got up without further delay. Forgotten were our plans for a leisurly breakfast and slow paddle back to Manigotagan village. I am afraid that we made a disorderly retreat in front of the approaching storm. By the time we were taking down the tent, the first heavy raindrops had turned into a steady rain and James needed to weigh down the tarp to prevent it from flying away. We threw our kitchen, clothing, camping and other gear into the packs and got going, by now in a downpour with non-stop inter-cloud lightning overhead.

We hopped into the canoe and got going. Thunder and lightening never quite stopped, fortunately the electricity stayed in the clouds. The rain eventually abated and we were eagerly listening for Wood Falls. Not surprisingly, we heard it from quite a distance. We soon were at the landing and while James took care of bringing the gear road side, I walked the 1 km or so to the Simards. Their yard had filled with cars from other paddlers. Marylin told me later there were 15, more than they had ever had at one time. But first, I needed to get someone to get out. The house was eerily quiet and my timid knocking did not sollicit a response. Only when my knocking turned into banging did I hear somebody stir. At 8:15 on a Saturday morning, everyone was still asleep. But Marilyn finally came gave me our keys and moved a truck that was blocking the yard entrance out of the way. After a quick thank you and good byes, I headed back to the landing and James. He had done a fine job setting up everthing by the road and in no time, the car was packed, the canoe strapped on and I had taken my final bath in the river. Refreshed, cleansed and with clean clothes I was ready for the trip. But here came Marylin to drop of a provincial park survey about the trip, which was now over, exept for the drive back to St. Paul.

The drive was uneventful. We left at around 9:00. Wind was still blowing from the south, this time to our disadvantage. I noticed when I stopped to refuel, amazing what a headwind does when your with canoe, on the water or on the cartop. The border crossing was almost like back home between Belgium and Germany, in the olden days. "Hi, where from, where to, what's your business (with an upward glance at the canoe), have a safe trip." 30 seconds, that was it. We had a safe trip and arrived back home in S. Paul at 19:00.