(Photo © John Geary)
".. a fierce, wild fascination in it that amounts ... to beauty - that is the Nova Scotia woods."
- Albert Bigelow Paine, author of The Tent Dwellers
It all started the night before, with the visit of two barred owls to the forest surrounding our campsite.
I was so thrilled to hear their haunting calls echo back and forth through the night woods, I told my paddling partner to wake me up if she heard them again our second night camped on Channel Lake.
That's why I was curled up in my sleeping bag, wondering what creature caused that loud splashing sound in the lake just 40 yards from our campsite.
Splash! There it was again.
We both heard it, and we were not entirely certain we wanted to find out exactly what it was that caused the noise.
"It's probably a bear hunting for frogs," I said, hunkering down deeper in my sleeping bag.
"Bears don't eat frogs!" she replied from deep in her own sleeping bag.
"Do too!"
"Do not! Might be a moose, though. Or a beaver."
"This isn't moose habitat! And beavers don't hang out on lakes this far away from their lodges. It's probably a bear … "
As it turned out, we were both right - sort of.
Later research revealed that black bears do indeed eat frogs. However, it was not a hungry bear on the prowl for the delicacy of frogs' legs; at least we found no signs the next morning that a bear had visited our lake the night before. In the light of day, we reasoned it out that it had probably an osprey, diving for fish in the lake's waters.
Channel Lake is part of a chain of waterways in the northwest corner of Kejimkujik National Park. Located in southwest Nova Scotia, Canada, "Keji" is the only national park in the Maritimes completely surrounded by land, although there is a seaside adjunct apart from the park's main body. This 155-square mile island of wilderness is home to more than 100 species of birds; mammals such as deer, porcupine, moose - and yes, bear; and a variety of tree species, including oak, maple, hemlock, spruce and pine.
One of the best ways to experience the park is by canoe, on routes north or south of Kejimkujik, the large lake that gives the park its name. The name of the lake comes from the language of the Micmac (or if you prefer, Miq'maq) Indians, thought to be the first natives to encounter the Vikings when they landed in North America. The Micmacs were also the first natives to serve as middlemen in the European fur trade with interior tribes of North America. The meaning of "Kejimkujik" is unclear, however; it has been translated as both "sore parts" and "attempting to escape."
We were attempting an escape of sorts: a five-day escape into the serenity and beauty of nature. Our escape involved paddling north of Kejimkujik, through Big Dam Lake, Frozen Ocean Lake, Channel Lake and the streams that join them, before paddling back onto the main lake.
Part of our route took us along the same waterways paddled by Albert Bigelow Paine, his friend Eddie and their guides in 1908. Paine, the biographer of Mark Twain, described their fishing/canoeing expedition to the area in the book, The Tent Dwellers.
We started and finished in the same place: Jake's Landing, at one of two spots where the Mersey River connects with Kejimkujik Lake - or "Kedgeemakoogee," as Paine spelled it. However, while our journey took us north toward Big Dam Lake, Paine and company headed south from that point, down to the Shelburne River which falls just outside of the park's southwest boundary. Our routes would overlap in spots, Paine's group traveling clockwise, our canoe counterclockwise through Frozen Ocean Lake, Little River and Channel Lake.
We ferried our canoe to the put-in at the south end of Big Dam Lake. An easy two-hour paddle brought us to our first campsite, at the head of a portage from Big Dam to a part of Still Brook that is deep enough to float a canoe. Halfway through our two-mile paddle, we saw the first loon of our trip, a sort of a feathered welcoming committee. No canoe trip in the north is complete without loons!
Our first night's campsite was located about 100 yards from the lake, next to the portage trail. One group portaged past our site late that afternoon. They were the last people we would see for the next two days.
We were not lonely, though. That afternoon while visiting the brook, a porcupine ambled over to pay his respects. He came crashing through the bushes, stopped for a drink and almost stumbled right into us before he realized we were there - then he clambered quickly up a tree, stopping long enough to poke his head out from behind the tree, before resuming his climb to safety.
Later that evening, he must have been examining our tent, because as we headed towards it to retire for the night, we heard a surprised-sounding squeak followed by a rustling through the bushes.
More wildlife, particularly waterfowl, highlighted our next day's paddle. Our put-in was a small pond created by Still Brook. Once into the brook's channel, we spied a painted turtle sitting on a log. Keji is one of the richest areas for turtles in Atlantic Canada. We drifted in a little closer for a better look, but he quickly dove out of sight.
Further on along the brook, we managed to pull within 60 yards of a great blue heron before he flew away. That was the first of many bird encounters we would enjoy that day. A blue-winged teal landed right behind our canoe, then another heron flew past us on the right, circled around and came back down behind us. As we approached the take-out for the portage from Still Brook to Frozen Ocean Lake, a pair of kingfishers raised a ruckus.
A short portage brought us onto the second lake of our journey, Frozen Ocean Lake. Light rain and strong winds lent evidence to the lake's name.
In The Tent Dwellers, Paine described it thus:
"…
across Frozen Ocean - a place which justified its name, for it was bitterly cold
there and we did nothing but keep the fire going …"
It was not that bad during our trip, but we there was a stiff wind, so as we paddled southeast along its shore, we picked up our pace to get out of the wind as quickly as possible. While on the lake, we saw another loon, this one bobbing past our canoe about 30 yards away.
Another short portage from the lake's southeast corner brought us to Little River, a deeper, wider river than Still Brook. It was here nature treated us to our final loon of the day: a mother with her chick. We did our best to paddle as far away from them as possible so as not to create any undue stress. We also spotted a beaver just before we entered Channel Lake.
It was along one of the smaller tributaries of this river that Paine spotted his first beaver dam. He wrote at length about how the beaver was disappearing in Nova Scotia, being trapped out of existence. As he finished off in the book's 28th chapter,
"Long
ago he taught men how to build their houses and dams, and to save up food and
water for a dry time. Even if we no longer need him, he deserves our protection
and our tender regard."
As we drew closer to our campsite on Channel Lake, the sun crept out from behind the clouds and nature finally seemed ready to treat us to a sunset that night.
The disappearance of the sun signaled the beginning of a nocturnal concert. A chorus of bullfrogs performed the opening overture; a pair of loons joined in; then, at about midnight, that pair of barred owls serenaded us from the woods around our tent.
The next day we followed the example set by Walt Whitman in Leaves of Grass: "I loaf, and invite my soul." We napped, read, explored the woods around our campsite, did some skinny dipping in the lake, but did very little that could be called strenuous.
Our two owl friends visited again that night, prompting my partner to follow my instructions and wake me up. Then came that mysterious splashing …
The next morning we actually met some humans, for the first time since our first day out: a pair of rangers was making the rounds to make sure the campsites were clean, re-stock the outhouses, and check the firewood supplies.
We took our time on the portage leading from our site to that day's put-in on another section of the Little River to let them get ahead us so we could enjoy the solitude. We had started our trip paddling in a northwest direction, but now we were headed southeast, our route taking us back to Kejimkujik Lake and that night's campsite on Moose Island in the lake's northwest corner.
As we landed, another couple was just leaving. They told us about a nice half-day paddle to the West River before paddling northwest toward Little River.
Being back on the big lake reminded us we were close to civilization. Powerboats are allowed on the big lake, and a group of picnickers landed on "our" island. Fortunately, they were just day-trippers and spent little more than an hour there.
After setting up camp, we paddled out to West River, about a four-hour paddle, round trip, from Moose Island. Again, a journey up a quiet stream rewarded us with sightings of several mergansers and some mallards.
The further upstream we paddled, the more the river changed. The forest become denser and more lush, the banks drew closer, creating quite a contrast from the river's open, marshy mouth.
We paddled upstream as far as the first of two campsites on the river and in one of those weird it's-a-small-world-after-all coincidences, we met Allison, the park visitor services employee who had helped me pick my route and book my trip over the telephone almost two months before. She and another park employee were camped there, using their days off to get into the backcountry and away from the day-to-day operations of the park.
Back on Moose Island, we enjoyed having a campsite to ourselves for the fourth night in a row. However, we also realized the trip was reaching its end. We had seen more people that one day than we had the previous four days of our trip, meaning we were closer to civilization than we had been at any other campsite during our trip.
The next day, we backtracked toward the mouth of the Little River, to portage across Indian Point to Jeremy Bay. That helped to reduce the time we would have to spend paddling southeast into a headwind, back to Jake's Landing.
Those five miles we paddled along the north shore of Jeremy Bay proved to be the toughest we faced in the entire trip, giving us reason to think perhaps "sore parts" was a more appropriate meaning for Kejimkujik than "attempting to escape." A strong wind blew in our faces or against the side of our canoe all the way, pushing us back or against the shore, constantly.
Our experience on the bay was nothing like that of Paine's. In The Tent Dwellers, he painted a very fond picture of Jeremy Bay:
"Perhaps
the brightest spot of that sad period when we were making ready to leave the
woods, with all their comfort, their peace and their religion, and go back to
the harrying haunts of men, to mingle with the fever and fret of daily strife,
is the memory of the trip to Jeremy's (sp) Bay. … it is … within an hour's
paddle of Jim Charles's (sp) point, and it is that hour and the return that
sticks with me now."
While our two-hour paddle to Jake's Landing certainly sticks with us, that is not the image that I treasure about our trip through Keji.
We paddled at the height of the summer season, during the first week of August, yet we saw very few people during four of our five days in the backcountry. I did not expect traffic jams at the portages; however, I was pleasantly surprised by the scarcity of human contact.
That unexpected solitude was a true gift, a real escape.
On our last night on the big lake, a lone loon swam past our Moose Island campsite, wailing her trademark cry, as if to say, "Farewell!" from the wilderness, eliciting a prayer of thanks from my own mouth.
- John Geary
(*a shorter, slightly different version of this story appeared in the Ski Canada 2001 Outdoor Guide)
Travel Tips
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The park is located off Route 8, The Kejimkujik Drive, which cuts across southwestern Nova Scotia between Liverpool and Annapolis Royal. It takes between two to three hours to drive to the park from Halifax, the province's largest city. |
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Call ahead to book your route and your campsites. To plan your route, purchase a map ($5.50 Cdn) and make backcountry reservations by phoning (902) 682-2772. |
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For front country campsites, call 1-800-414-6765. Fees vary, depending on length of stay, type of activity, time of year, etc. |
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For more park details, log on to the park's website: |
Rentals: Several outfitters in and around the park offer equipment rentals; some of them offer guided trips. In the park, there is Wildcat River Outfitters at Jake's Landing: (902) 682-2196 or 682-2822.
Outfitters outside the park offer canoes and guided trips into and around the park, including:
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Other useful websites to visit:
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Books to read:
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Canoe Routes of Nova Scotia, by C. Dill |
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Explore Canada by Marion Harrison and Peter Thompson |
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The Tent Dwellers by Albert Bigelow Paine (available through the Canadian Recreational Canoeing Association |
Conservation Corner
Want to help conservation efforts or learn about conservation in Nova Scotia? Visit these sites:
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Other Journeys ...
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Paddling in Paine's Nova Scotia |
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