Home

Mountain River Pictures

With mixed emotions, our sullen group approach the take-out at the Mackenzie River. I’ve been in denial for the past four days that our trip is coming to an end! Waiting patiently for the planes arrival tomorrow, the group debriefs our trip, I take the time to relax by the fire. As I gaze across the expanse of the Mackenzie River, I slowly drift back to the beginning of our excellent adventure. River tripping for me is more than the thrill of the paddle or visual stimuli; it’s about emotions of discovery in my surroundings, my companions and myself. I feel as if the Mountain River has become a part of me, and I have to come to terms with this before I could leave.

---

Mountain River Magic

Our trip ended as it started— heavy smoke in the air!!! This was the only downside to our adventure. It had been a bad fire season with all of Alaska, most of the Yukon, and at least some of the NWT blanketed with smoke. We had made our way towards Mayo for the flight into the Mountain River under protest to the amount of smoke in the air. Reaching Mayo, Ernie (our pilot) informed us of the low visibility in the Mackenzie Mountains, exactly what I had not hoped to hear! Once again I found myself dreaming. This dream was of a clear sunny day with no smoke for the next day’s flight so I could practice some aerial photography techniques I had studied for the trip. As we flew into Norseman Lake, words were not needed to describe our disappointment, or at least apprehension about the possibility of paddling for three weeks in smoke! On the bright side, I did manage to get a couple pictures of the wing.

As we approached Norseman Lake, the smoke parted enough to get a vague outline of the surrounding landscape. Mountains were barren gray silhouettes in the distance with the river winding far below. While spiraling down to the lake, we noticed some canoes on shore at the far end. They belonged to Teresa's group whom we had met in Whitehorse, and would bump into again further down river. Norseman is a small lake surrounded by hummocky ground covered by stunted birch, and located at the base of a mountain that offered great hiking with an endless view. Ernie knew this and had made a very good suggestion, which we accepted in good faith. Our original destination was Dusty Lake, but when discussing this with Ernie, he suggested Norseman was the best place to hike right from camp. Perfect!

We had flown on the first of two flights and as always, needed to explore the area, find and establish a suitable camp location for the crew, making damn sure tea is made for the second group's arrival. In the end, Norseman Lake was one of the most difficult locations in which to accommodate six tents and we had to work hard for firewood. No trees... go figure? As well, I should have looked harder for tarp poles!! As the tarp guy, I (with help) had to suitably construct a shelter for life on the river for some fairly— how shall I describe this... demanding people. This is a common attribute with voyageurs. For this chancy twenty-five day stint on the Mountain River, I knew that after having read all the wet, snow and wind trip reports, a dry safe-haven was important. Scouting around, we locate a suitable area to erect the tarp. Unfortunately, there were full and empty barrels of fuel leaking and rusting away beside the lake! If you fly it in... Please take it out!!! On the other hand I’m not one to waste an opportunity, so after a short debate, we used the barrels for tarp erection and kitchen counter space. A few hours later the remainder of our group arrived while we put the final touches to the first of many shelters. Day one eventually dwindles away as we settle into our new surroundings and a much-anticipated trip. With drinks in hand we toasted to the fruitation of all our planning, and to a new exciting river adventure.

Lying in my tent the next morning, at least I thought it was morning —not very dark here — with everything crossed, I hoped the smoke had cleared. Not! Again, on the bright side, Ken was up with coffee and tea brewed for the waking crew, including a good read from Anthony Robins to motivate our day's adventure... or at least start the day with humor and a good debate.

Moose splashed in the lake, caribou could be seen on the mountain slopes and some excellent hiking was had by everyone— All this from our camp! We enjoyed our two-day stay at Norseman Lake but had to leave sometime. I had read a snippet about the portage from Norseman, but not much info was available as most people start at Willowhandle Lake. I had a hunch it would not be a bed of roses and was not disappointed. Paddling up to the head of Norseman, we hiked up the height of land and down to the river without a trail, through stunted birch over hummocky ground. Eventually we reached our destination and got our first glimpse of the Mountain? It looked low, silty, and not much more than a small volume River. Twelve hours and one thundershower later we had completed the overland portion of our trip. We hoped? A twenty-five day trip requires a bit more gear than normal, even without beer.

We rolled out of our sleeping bags on day four in amazement; the smoke has finally cleared enough to see detail in the surrounding mountains. Excitement builds as we start loading our canoes for the first time, preparing for all the magic the Mountain River will bring us. A perfect warm-up to begin our journey! After refreshing our river signals and running quickly through safety objectives for the day, we slide into the river.

After a fun paddle on our first day, we find a small but spacious campsite at river level. It was our turn to cook dinner.. Actually, Carol cooks and I offer support or at least do as I’m told. Sitting by the fire stirring the salmon chowder chuckling to myself, I think back to our food preparation for the trip. Deciding on a system to feed ten people for twenty-five days was an interesting but in the end—not so challenging feat. We spent the first six months of 2004 testing potential meals, quality and nourishment being the top priority. Presentation soon became a prerequisite! It was an interesting day when some of the menu items arrived via email from other participants... kind of upped the anti a bit. With items such as— Green Currie of fish, Rice, marinated beets followed by peanut butter squares... This was all it took to put Carol into a panic! Out came the books again and after a while, her response was—Spicy coconut rotini with mixed vegetables followed by cocoa oat delight squares! And so it began. We do eat well on river trips!

There was a noticeable quietness in the group while we loaded the canoes for our second day of paddling. Today we encounter our first of seven canyons and it would be fair to say we were a bit anxious, or at least tentative, knowing the first canyon contained two ninety-degree corners. One of which slammed into a headwall containing an undercut that could definitely provide consequence. Until this trip, when someone mentioned the “C” word, I for some reason tense up! It goes back to my first (bad) canyon experience on the Blaeberry River. Although I couldn’t spit, it turned out to be a thrill and quite simple. As we snuck the first corner inside river right, we were greeted by a frantic furry of arms and paddles waving us out of the river. (Not recommended at higher flows) After scouting, we immediately set up to cross the flow towards river left, once past the rock face we punched the eddy fence.. That night we camped at one of the most amazing vista’s of the entire river.. We called it Sphinx Mountain and played in its shadow for two days. We also had an enjoyable visit with Teresa and friend.

As we paddle, camp and hike in amazement for the next few days, we finally make our way through the second canyon to Grizzly Meadow below Blackfeather Creek. The second canyon was strictly a float avoiding the turbulent water but a canyon none the less.. We also encountered our second group of the trip at the confluence of Blackfeather Creek. The consensus was; We had made a good decision to start the trip on the upper Mountain as opposed to Willowhandle Lake. Although I am sure Blackfeather offered an adventure, I can hardly believe it would allow for the amount of paddling, hiking and exploration we enjoyed above it. With the completion of another quality shelter by the tarp guy and company, we cross the river to check out the Meadow. WOW!! The fan that creates this meadow is huge, offering a 180-degree panoramic view that extends kilometers in all directions. Tomorrow we check it out!

Morning arrives with a gorgeous sunrise in tow. Excited about today’s adventure, I enjoy a cup of strong coffee sitting comfortably by the fire. I could not help noticing a slight grin as Ken read his morning passages from Anthony Robins. Correction... Women are from Venus Men are from Mars. This ought to be good! As if the separation of bow and stern were not enough? We have ten independently stubborn people on this trip, and believe me when I say “opinionated,” myself included. Ken is usually a quiet, thoughtful person and will do anything for you (Well almost.. Jean was the only one to get coffee in bed!) and for the most part, bucks the trend keeping his opinions to himself. He was up to something? I stayed glued to my seat for today’s debate and was not disappointed. There’s nothing quite like starting a day’s paddle at opposite ends... before you’re in the canoe!

After an excellent breakfast, we gear up and head across to Grizzly Meadow for the hiking. Making our way towards the trees, we notice caribou meandering across the meadow, and the ground seemed to be moving. It is spiders! Butterwort plants also cover the expanse of the meadow. I wonder if there is some kind of coexistence between the spider and the insects’ butterwort plants trap? Beyond the meadow we make our way up the creek bed and finally up to a height of land that produced a good view of the alpine behind the meadow. Finishing lunch the group splits into what I deemed the “Extreme Team”, or “Summit Squad” and the “Halfway Hikers”— Carol, myself and sometimes Darryl being the latter. Parting company we make our way through sparse trees towards “Carol’s Knob” which we eventually conquer. We spotted the knob from our campsite and that’s where Carol wanted to go. It turned out to be boulders atop a huge landslide, which at some point must have filled the valley we had just hiked up. That would explain the magnitude of the fan called Grizzly meadow. The erosive nature of the Mackenzie Mountains is quite evident here. Inhaling the phenomenal views, we eventually made our way back to camp. Along the way we saw more caribou and the “Guardian of the Meadow”— A rock formation with striking resemblance to a dog overlooking the meadow below.

On the menu tonight... Spicy coconut rooting with peanut butter rice crispy squares. Darryl and I set up the shower for the group while Carol heads to the creek for a bath. We heard her calling and as I make my way to the creek, I am greeted by the biggest caribou I have ever seen! Towering above her, the bull caribou seems a bit confused. My thought is— maybe it’s a good thing she wasn’t bare butt to the wind!! No, I didn’t get a picture!!! When the crew arrives we draw straws for the shower. Over the years of using solar showers, filling them was a pain in the butt and was never happy with water temperature! I brought a Sea-kayak pump! Simply half fill the shower (in seconds) with cold water from a pot using the pump and ditto the remainder with water heated from the fire!!! Fast and simple, and I can guarantee I won’t be the only one using this system on the rest of my trips. After dinner, all clean and with nightcap in hand, we compare notes from the day's excursions, and decide to move on in the morning.

Greeted by another beautiful sunrise, we enter my best day on the river for scenery. The Mountain River braided back and forth across the valley bottom providing a relaxing paddle with many pipe breaks. Our necks were sore from the 360-degree view of spectacular mountain vistas sporting incredible colours, I was awe-struck! WOW... was the phrase of the day and none of my pictures could do it justice. We took the opportunity to have our pictures taken in front of what I called - Pose Mountain. (top of this page) We come across a large herd of sheep and eventually made our way to the Shale Creek campsite. As the day slowly faded away, we relaxed comfortably by the fire watching the setting sun dance across the mountains in the distance. Rainbows magically appeared as if to tie a ribbon on the great gift we received today. For me at least, this is what it’s all about, evoking emotions within that will remain forever. Most people will never experience what we saw today, so for this I feel blessed. Today one of my dreams came to pass; the rest of my trip will be a bonus...

I love layover days – breakfasts are supplied! Unless of course, It’s my turn to cook. Exploration for today - we climb the mountains towering behind our campsite. Following Shale Creek for a while we come across the only ice found on this trip and a garden variety of flowers not seen until now. Admiring the extraordinary colours and patterns in the rocks, we follow a creek up to the right hoping to reach our alpine destination. As expected, the group eventually parts. Radios were a welcomed and well used item to boot. Each couple had a radio and were always in contact with each other... (when radio's are turned on) This time the group split three ways. Carol and I reached a vantage point with a view that spanned the Mountain River for miles, and over-looked the extreme team as they made their ascent. Still looking for my grizzly, we settled for a moose and more caribou. Off in the distance we see a dark squall heading our way and not long after we started down, were soaked from stem to stern. Note to self; get better hiking boots with good ankle support! Back at camp, Jeff and Marcy had tea and hot soup ready for the waterlogged group as they straggled back to base. Turning our shelter into a Chinese laundry, we prance around in our Helly - Hansen undies... Another picture-op! Could have been a good commercial! Once again the afternoon storm makes way for a gorgeous evening and a wonderful sunset. Content and exhausted after today’s adventure, everyone hits the hay with a plan to move on in the morning.

I did not feel tired and opted to continue drying our hiking boots??? Mesmerized by the fire I fade back to our initial decision to paddle the Mountain River, and how glad I was we did. The toughest call was deciding on the number of participants. We had the perfect number of six already, but knew there were more who would want to accompany us. Regardless of logistics, we did not have the heart to say no to anyone. In the end we agreed on ten and hoped the river could accommodate us without issue. Knowing we travel with the largest tent (Taj Mahal) was cause for concern on a personal level. It’s safe to say I’m not a minimalist with comfort first and foremost! After all, we are in canoes.. bring what you want! Carol and I are the least experienced in planning a river trip so it was a great time to learn. Darryl and Lori, who usually do the planning and happen to be our paddling mentors, graciously stepped aside while assisting and guiding us through the planning stage. The rest of the group fell in line as the need arose. It was a group plan from the beginning and to this point has worked out quite well. Not that we agreed on everything, far from it, however it’s the acceptance one receives regardless of opinion or belief that makes true friendship. We all know the importance of group dynamics and it seems to be running smoothly. OOPS!! I just melted Carol’s hiking boots. It would seem I get to test this theory tomorrow...

Morning made way to our first rainy day. Our fantasy had to end sooner or later. Having a tent you can tear down under the fly was a blessing in disguise. The mountains have changed in appearance but still majestically line our path to the next point of interest. "The Moonscape" Green, red and purple were the colours with the odd mountain goat seen along the way. The bowl shape and steepness of the mountains observed are definite signs of past glaciations. A cow and calf caribou swam across the river, which was higher than yesterday. Reading trip reports of the river rising a meter or more in a short time was cause for concern. We pulled out for lunch under miserable conditions. I would bet those in the group who didn’t bring drysuites were thinking about it! You can’t miss the Moonscape! It spans from one side of the valley to the other with the exception of where the river eventually carved a new route. It truly seemed moon-like when you got on top. (Not that I have been to the moon) It was an old landslide of massive proportion that over time, has become weather worn and cloaked with ground cover.

Leaving the Moonscape behind, we negotiate some fun class two - two plus water down to the Tufa Mounds - our next point of interest. Admittedly, I had never experienced a Tufa mound before this trip. When I approached the base I was stunned, it was huge! I had a tough time comprehending the fact a very small stream of mineral water could create such a profound geological presence. Once again, I expected warm or hot water and was quite surprised to find it ice cold. Was I the only dense person here? It was getting late so we negotiate more technical water in search of a campsite. This stretch of water was fun but the timing could have been better. After a long cold day, we finally make camp somewhere above Cache Creek. It was certainly noticeable how grumpy the group was. No more long days on the river and I hope like hell the sun comes back. I suddenly imagined the next two weeks with rain and snow. Tonight I pray!

It was a good morning to be alive! Everyone seemed to shake off yesterday’s blues, my prayer had been answered and I was excited about our next stop, Cache Creek, which apparently has great fishing and we will be staying there for a while. Some of our best white-water was paddled this morning and we were only on the river for a couple of hours. How can you beat that... Perfect! The only concerns were the bends that had head walls creating very boily water and whirlpools. Sneaking a corner would put you into a whole new world of challenges. Carol and I had been practicing strokes and boat manoeuvres all along for just this situation based on trip reports, and had decided to stay with the main flow and go through the maw. What a blast! Approaching Cache Creek I could see everyone was having as much fun as us, well at least until we saw the fourth group camped at my dream site... I was devastated! Lining our boats back up to get into Cache Creek, (went too far) we introduce ourselves to the occupants of our desired campsite and compare notes as to the trip so far. OK OK, I was actually excited to meet people with the same passion as us in such a distant place, and it turns out we could have camped a whole bunch of groups at this site. Not only that... they had beer cooling in the river. Now that made my mouth water!

Lining our canoes up Cache Creek we eventually set up camp. Our system is quite simple. One person from each boat assess' the site for potential camping and possible tent locations. If they return without a life jacket or any other piece of gear, it means they have marked their tent turf. Those who have remained at the canoes start unloading. Taking turns at first dibs for tent locations usually works out fair for everyone. Having the biggest tent is always a concern but one I am willing to live with. We settled in for a lengthy stay, kicking back and relaxing was the theme for this spot. Life is good when you can slip into a pair of shorts and tee shirt without concern for bugs in the NWT. Yes, I meant it! To this point I have not mentioned bugs because there has not been many, or at least not what you would expect up here. WOW!!!

Some people hiked, some fished and some just lazed around camp under the heat of the day but we all had one thing in common... We would spend two excellent days of R&R before challenging the first big canyon. Now this is the holiday I had dreamt about. We caught some grayling for appy’s, (not enough for dinner) went for long hikes, explored the second amazing Tufa Mounds which included a hanging bridge, and skinny dipped in the clear cool waters of Cache Creek. AHHH! Only one thing could possibly top this.... Seeing my grizzly bear!

I suppose the only down side to our little Eden is the Cache Creek canyon looming ominously below the camp. At some point we will have to enter this portal, accepting what ever it deals us. After all, we have watched two groups enter the canyon! How many made it out?? I find it quite amusing how the mind darts in and out of reality. I guess I’m not quite over the “C” syndrome.

The weather changed to wind and rain and once again it was time to part from our little piece of paradise through a gateway to the unknown. Bundling up, I exit the tent seeking shelter from the cold and almost snow-like conditions. When I reach the shelter I am welcomed by the site of people standing around shivering. Most crawled back into their bags for warmth and waited for the weather to break. I on the other hand, had been dealing with the opposite problem... It was warmer out here than in my over rated sleeping bag made by a well-known company I will not mention! To date I have been dealing with a lack of sleep due to this issue and admit it is starting to influence my daily routine, mannerism and almost ruined my trip. To a degree, my saving grace was Kenny’s bivvy sack. It’s smart to invite someone who has everything along on these trips. To stay warm I opted to start packing our gear. When the weather changed, everyone followed suit and we finally slipped into the depths of Cache Creek canyon.

The only bad thing that happened to me in this canyon was a kink in my neck from looking at the walls towering well above us. As the first section of canyon gave way we entered an amazing arena of colours and lines different from anything we had experienced so far. Our attention was soon focused on the first of two drops; a sharp bend to the right off a head wall, which we scouted and decided to sneak right punching the boil line guarding river right. One thing I have not mentioned yet is the water level of this trip. According to most trip reports, the only things that match is the location of each point of interest, but the river characteristics are very different. Considering there is a lot less water giving way to fewer options for navigating each drop, it was a more technically challenging paddle. This drop being no exception, it was crucial to stick your bow high through the eddy fence guarding river right or chance drifting into the big water against the head wall. Set-up was critical! My timing was off a bit and put us closer to the main flow than I had anticipated. If it wasn’t for the exceptional cross bow draw from Carol that held the loaded boat and her stern guy, we may very well have tasted the wrath of the Mountain River. I feel as if I just broke a rule or something by acknowledging my paddling partners prowess in the bow, but I damn proud of that stroke and to be her partner! That’s life on the river! We all successfully dealt with the demons on this drop in our own fashion and eventually slipped out of the canyon without incident.

We continue on to Etagochile Creek as Ernie does a fly-by to check our progress. With a tilt of the wing to acknowledge spotting us, he heads off into the mountains from where we had just paddled... I may be going out on a limb here but I thought these last few kilometres of continuous white-water above Etagochile Creek was the best on the entire river. A bit stressful perhaps, considering the tension between bow and stern, but nothing a good debrief couldn’t solve. As we approach our final destination of the day, yet another group, from North Carolina, greets us. One of which mentioned they had been told they would not see anyone else on the river. I suppose this would be true if every group was starting at the same put-in and on the same timetable. We had doubled the suggested time, and as a result, crossed paths with five groups. Not anticipated, but in time we accepted that there were more people like ourselves in the world who were willing to weather the cost and see this paddling sanctuary.

The sun came back out and remained for the rest of our time on the river. Another layover day and a chance to observe our neighbours set out, avoiding the ugly in the cliff’s shadow across the river, they take a smart sneak route and gradually disappear into the distant landscape. Team "Magic" once again sets out to explore the surroundings, I take this opportunity to bask in the sun and hopefully catch up on some much needed sleep. Well rested, I complete some camp chores and put the tea on for the group. Tomorrow we paddle through canyon four according to my trip journal, which is canyon two from the trip reports we read.

Parting company with Etagochile Creek on day eighteen, we make our way to Battleship Rock which guards the entrance to our next conquest. According to trip reports there may be possible sneak routes. Not! One way in and one way out pretty much covers it. Big boily water and eddy lines were the only obstacles to be avoided in this passage. Once again we exit unscathed but admittedly with higher levels of adrenalin flowing. The wind picked up which made paddling difficult for the remainder of the day. Not even the addition of the Stone Feather River eased our plight! We stopped for lunch at the confluence, ducking behind bushes and driftwood for a well deserved rest from the strong wind. The long day ended at a less than desirable campsite but none the less, the day was over. Tonight we recover!

No emotion was shown towards leaving this spot as we gear up for a tricky corner and the next canyon. The tricky corner was no more than keep to right of centre or the inside. We did scout it but in the end wasn’t necessary. Happy with one more drop behind us, we make our way into canyon three. (Fifth for our group) The landscape has noticeably changed yet again, with the mountains shrinking in stature and the timberline crawling much higher than when we started our journey. Canyon three was a run and gun type scene. As we dropped in through some fairly technical rapids, I got hit by the most water so far this trip and decide it was a bit late to scout... We eddy out at the bottom of the initial drop with the group to a spectacular view and a well needed pumping of water. Remember the shower! Kayak pumps work well for emptying your canoe with your spray-deck in place. Moving on we repeated this action with the next drop and pulled out below it. A bit backwards but it worked for us. Leaving this canyon I was focused on finding the set of class three rapids read in one report. I looked back just in time to witness Ken and Jean doing a stern-squirt from the big hole/wave river left! If I had not seen it, I would not have believed it possible to get a loaded boat vertical. Back to the class three rapid... not there! We find the next available campsite and debrief the aerial acrobatics witnessed by most.

By now some of our numbers are pouting as we near the end. Knowing we will soon be out of the mountains we paddle for about one hour on day twenty, pulling out four kilometres above canyon four (six) to our next campsite. Lots of fun class two waves found mostly on the corners made for an enjoyable time. More leisure time under the blazing hot sun. While some decide to hike behind camp on river left... I slept! We are trying to delay the inevitable, once through Canyon four, we will be leaving the mountains for good.

Our highest speed recorded while on the water this trip was 23.5 km per hour with an average of 11.5 km-- it didn’t take long to get to Canyon four. We get out river left to scout and find perhaps the easiest canyon access yet. The plan was fairly straightforward... Avoid the boily stuff. However, getting in was a bit simpler than getting out. Because of the low water, the main flow on river left narrowed considerably against the rock face with boulders thwarting any inside attempt. We opted to take a sneak route below the high cliff river right, keeping a direct angle down stream to avoid broaching. The first drop was a bit bumpy, the second went from zero to mach three as we entered the main flow again. Keeping a steep ferry angle we crossed above the squirrelly water and headwall. Another successful canyon descent, we pay homage to the Canyon Troll high on river right as we make our exit from the canyon, including the last of the mountains.

In all, we traveled thirty-five kilometers, camping about eight kilometres above canyon five (seven). Getting there through the braided channels was the fun part. Everyone took their turn at the lead. We only lost one canoe on this section. That’s what probes are for! As I paddle along, it is inexplicably obvious that something is up with all the erosion. Permafrost has been thawing on a large scale and as a result, landslides and side-slope failures were everywhere creating very muddy water. With my background, I was quite aware of the potential hazards to us on this stretch and to be honest, was quite uncomfortable as we paddled along any side hills. We discovered a sandy campsite with a sunset that never quit. What a way to end the day. There are unbelievable colours, styles and types of rocks along this river. Anything Carol couldn’t lift had to stay behind... just kidding.

Could you guess we had more braided sections to paddle? Lost another canoe today.. Yep! But we knew they would end up at canyon five eventually. We use our pipe break as an opportunity to take photographs before entering the canyon. By all accounts, this was the only canyon that matched the trip reports. Bashfulness aside, communal bathing at the warm spring was enjoyed by all, which was only a few hundred meters from our second last campsite on the Mountain River. Fossils were littered everywhere at this location. My senses were stimulated by the thought of past life and how it was still actively changing and evolving. Bug nets were noticed on some people as the noseeum’s made their debut... Getting closer to the Mackenzie River basin!

August 9th - day 23 is a special day. Today Carol and I celebrate our 18th Anniversary! How could one ask for a better way to celebrate a life long companionship than the past 23 days! As we paddled thirty-five kilometres, the smoke gradually engulfs us and are once again blanketed by the orange glow in the sky. Settled in to our last camp on the Mountain River, our companions present us with some wonderful hand made gifts to acknowledge our special day. Once again my emotions are stroked by the thoughtfulness. To me, the gifts are more than a token of friendship, they will be cherished as a way to relive this trip time and again. And for that, I am grateful.

Under the blazing hot sun we head into the returning smoke en-route to our final destination. The river still braided, but the speed slowed the closer we got to the Mackenzie. It was a quiet day as the thought of trips end started to sink in. I could sense everyone dealing with the same issue in their own special way. The surrounding landscape had gradually disappeared from view below the timber on rivers edge since leaving the last canyon. The mountains had left us far behind, and now my emotions were running wild with the thought of our adventure coming to an end.

Approaching the Mackenzie River we hear a thunderous roar in the distance. The Sans Sault Rapids is our guess, which is thankfully located below the confluence of the Mountain River, and our final resting spot. This is my first glance at the Mackenzie and find myself once again in awe at the size! We make our way slowly up along the shore to the last campsite. Tonight we have something special planned for one of our Voyageurs... It’s Jeff’s Fiftieth birthday and the group has been working frantically for days preparing tonight's celebration. All gave memorable gifts, birch bark party hats were made and the last of the rum shared. A fitting end to a wonderful trip, and a needed diversion from my anguish!

The Mountain River was alive, and as we traversed its length discovering all its unique characteristics, you could see it was full of life. Giving is what a river does. They are the veins on which the world thrives. What the Mountain River gave to me will remain embodied in my spirit for the rest of my existence. In the end it was quite simple... It gave me Life... by providing the emotions to experience it fully!

In the end.... I received far more than a dream come true.

~River Life~

Thank you to everyone who shared this journey with us, and to those who helped make it possible! In particular, Richard Watt for sharing their trip which planted the seed of desire. Most of all - Carol for putting up with my emotional roller coaster and bad lines!

Top

---