Winnipeg River

“The hardest thing I have done in my life!”

The speaker was my father, Herbert Hartley, who made this statement so many times in my presence that it became almost a mantra of the terms exigent on a river trip.

The source of his comments was the Winnipeg River. In 1934, as nineteen year olds, my father and my Godfather to be Rowan Coleman paddled up the Winnipeg River in a canoe. My father talked about fording / lining the canoe up the River when rapids were encountered and at times they were submerged up to their shoulders. I have a black and white framed photograph on my bedroom dresser, of them up to their armpits, which acts as a constant reminder of this stretch of water.

The River he talked about was once wild and spectacular as it dropped 270 feet in a series of rapids and falls in the 435 km journey westward from Kenora, Ontario on Lake of the Woods to Lake Winnipeg. The voyageurs loved snaking down its gorges and passable rapids as they made good time, despite portaging the falls. The return journey, what with paddling, poling, lining and portaging, took a lot longer and substantially more exertion. This stretch and that of the French River, between Georgian Bay and Lake Nippissing, more than any forged the voyageurs image into the lore of Canadian History as “romantic” icons daringly shooting the boiling rapids in an aperture of water between granite cliffs.

Since that bygone era, seven hydroelectric projects have been built to feed the energy needs of Winnipeg and southern Manitoba. I won’t use this as a pulpit for the pros or cons of such modernization but some have referred to it now as “The River of Sorrows”.

I will say that on my trip the dams, except for the effort taken to portage around them which is a direct tradeoff over the falls and rapids of old, will make life easier in that the stretches of water above the dams will have lost their current and paddling upstream should be less taxing (note that this is being written in April or income tax time by an accountant), at least for a while. The exception can occur in periods of high rains when the dams are forced to discharge so much water to prevent flooding and make the current impassable.

I look forward to paddling through the always gorgeous Precambrian (aka Canadian) Shield. Although I have not been on the Winnipeg River specifically, I spent time in the period 1962 -1964 at other locations in Manitoba’s Whiteshell Provincial Park such as Falcon Lake. Although across the provincial border, I also spent some idyllic days in the same period at adjacent Clear Water Bay on Lake of the Woods, Ontario. In 1973 I also had the pleasure of sailing from Clear Water Bay to just before Kenora and back with Jock McDonald and his father; beautiful, stunning, pristine are words which can’t adequately describe this utopia.

I look forward to camping on the shore of the River or one of the lakes included in the water system after a hard day’s paddling. As it will be early July, I should enjoy long days and hopefully good weather. I have this vision of relaxing and enjoying the gloaming as the earth gives way to night. As I used to sing at Boy Scout and YMCA Camp:

“Day is done, gone the sun
From the lakes, from the hills, from the sky
All is well, safely rest
God is nigh.
Fading light dims the sight
And a star gems the sky, gleaming bright
From afar, drawing near
Falls the night.
Thanks and praise for our days
Neath the sun, neath the stars, neath the sky
As we go, this we know
God is nigh.”

Perhaps a little hokey in today’s cynical world, but it works for me.

I expect to be in Kenora by Sunday July 8 to meet with Bob Salmond of Victoria. We will rent a canoe and paddle the length of Lake of the Woods and up the Rainy River to its source at Rainy Lake. I will leave my kayak behind for Bobs Rieder and Rebagliati to pick up the next Sunday as they motor from Winnipeg to join us in Fort Frances.