Flambeau River 2012-Day 1

As usual I awoke early and got up to feed my every-hungry dog. I don't know, the way she behaves she appears to be in constant starvation mode. Yet she is and looks fairly well fed. After dog it was coffee for my human companions and me. A French coffee maker was "pressed" into service, extra coffee was poured into a preheated thermos, which because of the cold forecast I made triple-sure to pack. Craig joined me quickly and after we had a couple cups'o'joe we went for a quick survey of the vicinity. We took the interpretive trail down to and along the lake and on one of the signs we read that the area had been devastated by a wind storm in 1977. Many of the old-growth pines had been toppled but we were amazed how much the new trees had grown in just 35 years. Some of them must have easily topped 10-15 m.

When we returned we were met by Ben. After some more coffee, a light breakfast and doing the dishes we broke camp and got on our way. Craig would have liked to stop for a cup of coffee to study the map out of the wind, but all establishments were closed. I stopped at the Flambeau State Forest Headquarters on Cty Rd W, just across the street from Red's Big Bear Lodge. The friendly DNR program assistant Judy and a local guy informed me that the water levels were low and that the last dam opening had been before Labor Day. They both suggested to paddle downstream from here. Since I seemed undeterred, Judy asked if I would mind phoning in a report after we were done.

Today's paddle and weather data. More info here.

Oxbo Resort.

After a quick consultation with Craig and Ben, who had remained in the cars, we headed for Dix-Dox Landing just next to Oxbo Resort. We made quick work of unloading and the water level actually did not look all that bad. We helped Craig to get his canoe ready and set Ben's and my gear near the water. Ben and Craig left to drop off a shuttle vehicle at Camp 41, our finish point which gave me time to load my canoe and set up my cockpit, with compass, map and Garmin FR305 watch.

Looking downstream from Dix-Dox Landing to recreational trail and Hwy 70
bridges 

After I was done, Mellie and I were headed for the recreational (speak ATV and snowmobile) trail just downstream from the landing. As I crossed the parking lot, I was greeted by an oldster in camo. Ed, an 84-year old retired butcher from Chicago was hunting grouse. we chatted, he came up here regularly to spend time in his late brother's house and enjoy the outdoors. He showed off a neatly gutted and plucked grouse he had shot earlier with his Belgian-made (as he pointed out when he heard that I was originally from there) Browning over-under. We parted, he headed for the only car in the lot and I headed for my bridge for some pictures.

Trunk Hwy 70 bridge across the North Fork of the Flambeau. When we went
under this bridge two years ago, most of the boulders were under water. The
car driving across is grouse hunter Ed's.

Ready to take off. Mellie (her tail), Christian, Ben and Craig at Dix-Dox

Craig and Ben did not make us wait too much longer and we shoved off. As we paddled down the river we became quickly aware of two facts: the strong westerly winds and the shallow water. It did not take long for Ben and me to get hung up. A couple of guys of around 80 kg each and 35 kg of solid black lab plus gear (even though we left a bunch for Craig to take) took their toll on our draft. But we managed.

Craig, closing in on the camp site near Log Creek. In 2010, Ben and David got
hung up on one of the now fully exposed boulders, possibly the one top right.

Our first stop was the campsite near Log Creek. Craig likes to visit it because it reminds him of a past trip he guided with a group of kids from the Red Cliff Chippewas. They had a close call, this camp, at which they had planned to pitch their tents had been devastated by a tornado. I remembered this location for a different reason, this is where David and Ben hit a sleeper rock in 2010. Fortunately, unlike today, on that October 9, the temperatures were downright balmy. Today, many of the rocks that had been covered by water were fully exposed.

About 45 minutes later, after a failed attempt to stop for lunch (too muddy), we landed at the chosen campsite for today, Mason Creek. Total paddling time for the 10 km today was little more than 90 minutes but I am sure that Craig would beg to differ that this was an easy paddle. Where Ben and I were sharing paddling duties, he had to face the wind alone. Our only concern had been getting stuck in the shallows. Near the end of today's leg I had to wade and drag the canoe free several times.

Craig, arriving at Mason Creek campsite. 

Ben, lugging up our stuff.

Once at Mason Creek camp, we carried our gear up the hill to the spacious and level area, picked our tent sites and set up camp. Craig and Ben took some time to erect a wind shelter since it was still blowing pretty hard from the west. There was plenty of dead fall in the woods around the camp site and soon we had a respectable wood pile that should last us through the evening hours and tomorrow's breakfast.

Today's weather made a wind break de rigueur.

Craig tells a story

We shared a beer and some stories around a mid-afternoon fire and then the short hike to Mason Creek along the grassy ATV trail in the woods. Several times we stirred up game birds. They took off too fast and all I could see was a longish beak on a smallish bird but based on habitat in the woods rather than wetland and the length of the beak I assume they were American woodcock (Scolopax minor) and not Wilson's Snipe (Gallinago delicata). It amazed me that Mellie, who was allways exploring ahead would not see or stirr up the birds and it was us, literally stepping on them who would get them to take evasive action. I guess Mellie is not a flusher.

Stroll to Mason Creek

After we returned, we spend some time reading, tending the fire and chatting. Around 1800, I set up the grill to cook the steaks. As usual, I got some nice marbled New York strip from Widmer's, the best meat market in St. Paul. Since I had re-sliced the steaks to make them thinner and easier to eat on a sandwich, they were cooked very quickly and soon, three happy campers were munching. The marinated tomatoes were an excellent topping. Note: it was so cold that the olive oil in the marinade had congealed.

Time to turn in.

As darkness fell, the snowflakes that had been dancing down sporadically throughout the afternoon began falling more regularly and around 2000 they drove us into our tents. In previous years, Mellie, who is after all a spoiled city and indoors dog had shivered and shattered her teeth throughout the night to a point that she kept Joel awake. This year I had come prepared and covered her up with a fleece blanket and my rain coat. No shattering and shivering this year. I read for a little while, but was soon lulled to sleep by the whispering of snowflakes on the tent walls.