Wolv

4 - The howling

    May 16th. I stared at my map, finding my position. I was at the southern tip of Atik Bay, roughly eighty kilometers from my starting point back at Breresford Lake. Atik Bay was a long, narrow lake, with a set of rapids at its northern edge. After the rapids was a stretch of river that gave way to Brad Lake, which was my target for the day.

    I zipped open the canvas flap and stepped out into the morning air, and nearly recoiled. It was freezing. Man, it can't be more than six degrees out here. I slipped on my shoes and pulled the tent pegs out of the ground , collapsing the tent and rolling it up into a tiny bundle. I sure hope it isn't this cold all day! It was bound to be more windy when I was out on the water, and the wind would only make the cold all the more bitter.

    I threw on a sweater and stuffed my tent into my kayak, then hefted the boat up and dropped it into the water, sliding into the cockpit after it. The sun was just barely above the eastern horizon, shining out across the lake and trees. The air was just as crisp on the water as it was on the shore, and I tightened the straps on my life jacket.

    I swung the bow towards the northern end of the bay and began paddling quickly, working up my body heat and nulling the cold around me. I looked back at the shoreline where I'd spent the night. Is that...frost? Sure enough, several rocks were glistening with a light dusting of frost from the night. It had been much colder than I had thought!

    I pulled an energy bar out of my pocket and devoured it. I'd forgotten to cook breakfast before I'd left, and I was regretting it. Hunger gnawed inside my stomach.

   Despite my hunger, and the ever present cold, I was content with my situation. With my only company being the steady lapping of my paddle against the water, and the scenery around me looking green and pure, any thoughts of Winnipeg and my life back home were quickly forgotten. I fought off a momentary wave of loneliness--I was the only human being for miles--but this was what I had wanted. Quiet solitude, with no distractions.

    Atik bay stretched six kilometers, north to south. I paddled for an hour, driving my kayak northward, deeper and deeper into the park.

    Something bumped the bottom of my boat, and I looked down, searching the water. I felt another bump, than another. I paddled myself to a stop, and took in my surroundings. Beneath me, the water was becoming shallower, and rocks hid just beneath the surface. Where there's a lot of rocks, there's rapids. Sure enough, up ahead lay Atik Rapids. I could hear the faint roar of the waters barreling angrily down the rocks.

    I headed over to the foot of the rapids and landed my boat on a steep, granite shoreline. A rough pathway had been cut into the trees, running along the rapids. A yellow sign was nailed to a tree at the edge of the trail, denoting a portage route. So much for avoiding portages!

   To be fair, I'd known from the get-go that avoiding portages completely was a pipe-dream. The park was isolated, and situated in the middle of granite-country--rapids were literally everywhere.

    I lifted the kayak over my head and began walking down the path, snapping twigs beneath me noisily. A few brambles scraped along my legs, and I winced slightly at the pain. The trail, while clearly man-made, hadn't seen much use; the overgrowth crowding the narrow path was a testament to that fact.

   To my left, the rapids roared down numerous rocks, churning the water to white foam. That's something I would not want to end up in! I'd heard stories of people trying to run rapids before, and ending up broken and bloodied at the bottom. Some people had even died; the undertows created by the rocks below could easily suck the bow of a light kayak under, along with its rider. I shuddered lightly, imagining being thrown roughly against hidden rocks. Ouch.