Two Paddles in One Day

We had heard that it didn't take much wind on Lake Superior to stir up big swells.

We feared that paddling our kayaks on the world's largest freshwater lake could be a challenge, that we should expect to find ourselves battling waves that could exceed several metres. And in the outfitter store in Sault Ste. Marie, the owner, who chatted us up and recommended some good paddling spots in and near the Lake Superior Provincial Park, told us of some 17-foot swells in Alona Bay, just north of Pancake Bay.

It's a beautiful spot, he added, telling us we should check it out. Not if there were 17-foot waves, we replied.

Before we packed for this trip, DW and I had decided that we wouldn't do the second half of our trip, where we had planned to spend the second week further north, near Rossport and Nipigon, paddling the islands in the northernmost region of Lake Superior. The islands were Crown land and we'd be able to camp wherever we made landfall.

There was still smoke from forest fires reported in the area and we were also nervous about crossing several kilometres of open water, in some places. Being stuck on an island when a storm kicked up also didn't appeal to us, so we decided to hold off on doing that leg this year.

Our fears of the weather, in our first week, were unfounded. When we arrived at Agawa Bay, the wind was mild and there were hardly any waves hitting the shore. Looking out to Montreal Island (if you've seen yesterday's post, you know), the water was still much of the time.

On our first morning on the lake—day three of our trip—we awoke to sunshine and calm air. One of the places that were recommended to us was Katherine Cove, just 10 minutes or so up the Trans-Canada Highway from our campground.

We were told that there were interesting rock features offshore and that if you paddled south, along the shore, you would encounter Bathtub Island, a small island with a depression in the rock surface that collects water from rain and waves, and makes a tub-like pool.

Because it's exposed to sunlight, the rock warms up and the temperature of the 'bathtub' is warmer than the surrounding water of Lake Superior.

If you paddle further south, you come to the mouth of Sand River, along which there is a popular hiking trail and several waterfalls. We decided that we'd head up the river to see how far we could get.

Apparently, at this time of year, you can't get very far.

Almost as soon as you enter the river, you come close to a bridge for the Trans-Canada that spans Sand River. But there were boulders that turned the river into a maze, and just at the bridge itself, there were boulders that made it impossible to approach, and even if you could get through, a set of waterfalls met you on the other side of the bridge.

We turned around and decided that we'd head back, making a stop at Bathtub Island. DW and one of our Paddlefolk friends, who joined us for our first week, decided to put their kayaks on the beach and walk to the island—the water is only knee to waist deep between the beach and the island.

I stayed in my kayak and filmed the ladies as they waded in the pool and then jumped off the rock into the deeper end of Superior, before returning to their kayaks and continuing on our journey.

By the time we returned to Katherine Cove, we had only covered a little more than six kilometres, and it was only lunchtime, so we decided that we wanted to do more paddling. We ate lunch on the beach at Katherine Cove (because there were bears active in our campground and because we are camp-savvy, all of our food for the trip was in the car) before moving on.

The provincial park is famous for a hiking trail that takes you to First-Nations pictographs on rock cliffs, and we decided that we wanted to see them from our kayaks. We drove back toward Agawa Bay but before reaching it, we turned off onto a road that took us to a boat launch, not far from the hiking trailhead.

Sinclair Cove is beautifully isolated from the lake, with islands that act as barriers from the wind and waves. Entering the still water, there were a couple of sailboats that were anchored here.

As soon as we exited the cove, though, a light breeze brought choppier water than we had experienced at Katherine Cove, but it was still easily manageable in our kayaks. We had experienced far worse conditions a few weeks earlier, on the Ottawa River.

The Agawa Rock Pictographs are a sacred Indigenous rock-art site and consist of red-ochre paintings on a granite cliff. They were created primarily by Ojibwe (Anishinaabe) spiritual leaders and travellers as records of visions, journeys, and spiritual power. They date anywhere from 150 to as much as 500 years old.

What astonished me was that these images are exposed to sun, wind, waves, and rain. They've been ravaged by storms, snow, and ice, and yet they remain visible.

Because it is considered a sacred site, we kept our distance in the kayaks. Even though the park allows visitors to climb on the narrow rock ledge by these paintings, it bothered me that tourists would touch the images and take selfies.

Though my video camera on my kayak was rolling, I did say a word of gratitude to the custodians of the land before us.

We paddled past the pictographs and continued around some of the neighbouring islands, some of which we could see from our campsite, though we didn't stray too far out into open water. All the while, though, I did eye Montreal Island and wonder if we would paddle to it before our week was up.

It's only about a kilometre and a half between the pictographs and the Sinclair Cove put-in, and when we returned, we had only completed 5.37 kms, making our daily total 11.5 kms: a respectable distance. We decided to call it a day and return to our campground.

Sunset over the islands we visited.

That evening, I cooked up some blackened salmon and mixed veggies, and watched the sun set from our site. When it got dark, we attended a night-sky watch, where one of the park staff showed us various constellations and star systems through a telescope, while pointing them out with a laser.

We could also see a light show from the Perseid meteor shower. Though it was the night before the shower was supposed to peak, we were treated with lots of streaks across the sky.

And I had plans for the next night.

We had a great first-full day on Lake Superior, with two lovely paddles in conditions that were easy to handle. Could this luck hold out for the rest of the week? Stay tuned, folks.