The saga continues from Day 1… (Read Here)
We get up, break camp and get ready for a grueling 3 km paddle. We even skipped breakfast. 3km… I don’t know… without breakfast this could be tricky. It was about 1.5km to the first portage which was great, a nice dock on either end, wide open walking path, even the giant fricken hoard of mosquitoes was nice enough to come and help carry the canoes for us. Wow! Talk about bug central. After a quick re-entry we were paddling down a small creek? River? Stream built from beaver damns? Yup… that last one fits perfectly. We bottomed out and lifted over, for about a click or two. Reaching the next portage, it was even buggier that the last. We put the boats into the water in record time and got out into the lake before having a smoke break. We wanted to let the bastards leave before they could follow us to our site. After all, we had no reached the point of our journey. Lol a whole 5km ish paddle to a beautiful open site on Cox Lake. We came a shore and went straight for the bacon and eggs.
I will leave out every little detail of the next two days, as there was a lot of scotch, beer, whiskey, apple whiskey (definitely not the same as whiskey Bender), and I believe some rum in there as well.
Just after breakfast, we started into the scotch. Surprise plot twist for ManCamping! By 11 am, we were all gastoinked. Gastoinked to the point that brad fell asleep in his little camping chair, fell out of it, and just went back to sleep, waking up more drunk then he was before his nap.
Bender and I tried our hand at fishing from shore, with relatively no success. Bender had asked me if I wanted to try fishing for our food instead of bringing it. Good thing I didn’t listen to him considering he was too lazy to buy some fishing gear for the trip. Even more so a good thing we didn’t try it, as Brad had built us a shoreline live well to keep our fish in that instantly let out every fish we put in it. Well done boys, we’ll all tip our hats to that failure.
The rest of the day, after we sobered up a little, was spent getting hammered again, as well as an extremely cold life jacket diaper float in the lake with sexy beard flips included.
We even had a pair of snakes that wouldn’t leave the campsite. Don’t ask us what they were, our snake identification skills are lacking to say the least. After warning the snake multiple times, he was eventually pee’d on. Yup we pee’d on a snake. Think that got the message across? Ya we know someone is going to hate on us for it, but it was better then stepping on him on the way into the lake. He/She got the message.
The lake was relatively quiet for a May long weekend, but we weren’t complaining. We finally met a group of guys that came past our camp site at about 6pm. They were obviously new to camping, which is ok as everyone needs to start somewhere. But WOW, these guys had taken about 6 or 7 hours to do the same paddle we did in about 3. They even portaged those lovely orange bags of firewood. They politely asked how long the next portage was and groaned when were told them it was about 1200m. They attempted it, left their boats half way, and came back to camp at the portage. We have officially coined the term “Camping at the portage” now.
Camping at the portage: Noun & Verb Definition: To give up. Used in a sentence: Are you going to finish that beer or are you just camping at the portage?
At one point, we actually setup our drinks and blatantly watched these guys attempt camping. But the story only gets better the next day. The rest of the night was spent laughing around the campfire with, of course, a few more drinks.
Stay tuned for Day 3!