We gambled and set up the tent without the rain fly, which paid off considering the warm night and lack of rain. We had a restful sleep, waking up when the sun was well above the horizon.

[Although we didn't have a watch on the trip, and this had its benefits, I realize now in hindsight the photos have the time embedded, so I have occasionally added for the sake of my own interest, as I'm sure no one else cares to know!].

Waking up at Lemsford Ferry Regional Park (6:20 a.m.)

We were on the water by around maybe 8 or 9 am. We managed to haul the gear down the steep embankment without dropping anything in the water (barely). It started off looking like another warm day, but grew cloudy later in the morning and cooled off. For me this was perfect paddling weather. The scenery was similar, but with less cropland (and thus less irrigation pumps) and more pasture land in the river valley. Soon there would be only pasture land near the river.

Native prairie pasture flanking the south shoreline (9:30 a.m.)

A north wind blew some ominous looking clouds which produced some light scattered rain, for which we put our rain jackets on and off a few times. We were concerned about lightning, but the thunder and lightning appeared far off and infrequent. We hugged the north shore for shelter from the wind plus marginal lightning protection with large balsam poplar trees along the north shore.

North wind builds, bringing thunder clouds (9:30 a.m.)

While hugging the shore we passed under a branch of a large dead tree with a bald eagle standing on an upper branch, directly above our path on the water. I watched in fascination, and then unease as he eyed us confidently and did not fly away as I thought he would. Just as we passed under him, hardly 5 metres from him (could nearly see pupils of his eyes), he flew off across the river, an awe inspring and majestic flight.

It was this morning we learned the unusual characteristic of the river in terms of shallow and deep areas. We were following the north shore to avoid wind and potential lightning and inadvertently discovered that the river tended to be more shallow toward the middle of the river and deeper along shore. The bottom of the river is completey invisible, since the water is opaque with sediment. So we were initially guessing blindly where the seemingly random deep areas were, testing the depth occasionally with our paddles. We also watched for the periodic visible sand bars and islands that usually indicated shallow water, or partially submerged weeds/plants.

When about to round a point, we veered out toward the middle of the river and hit bottom in about 15 cm of water (6″). As we continued to attempt to get closer to the middle of the river, thinking it would
get deeper, we found the same shallow water, if not worse, to the point where we had to get out and drag the canoe to continue. The current threatened to tip the unstable canoe as it rocked on its keel on the shallow silt/sand bottom.

Beached! Figuring out the puzzle of river depth patterns

We grew frustrated until we decided to try heading back along shore where we came from. To our surprise, only about 30 feet (9 m) from shore, the bottom suddenly dropped off. We almost slid down the sudden invisible drop-off into the water. We jumped back in the canoe and found at around 15 feet (5 m) from shore, the bottom dropped off beyond the reach of our paddles when pushed into the water full length! This felt bizarre considering the wide width of the river, often more than 100 metres across. We found over time this invisible channel typically ran along both shorelines, though it sometimes petered out and disappeared.  However, overall it was only 2 times we had to get out and drag the canoe over a shallow spot after this. If the river level was much lower, this would have occurred much more frequently.

Between the canoe and shore, the depth suddenly drops beyond 5 ft depth! (11am)

By around 11:30 am we reached the second (and last) active ferry on our trip, the Lancer Ferry crossing, north of Lancer, SK. We got the time from the ferry operator. He was less talkative than the last ferry operator. We talked for 20 minutes or so (no cars) then continued on. We debated stopping for lunch at a small picnic table by the ferry, but with the wind now from the northwest and behind us, we decided to take advantage and drift with the wind and current while eating. We wanted to cover some distance in case the weather turned for the worse and we were grounded for a day or two. The clouds grew less ominous and it became optimum paddling weather with light clouds and winds (my skin tends to sunburn quickly, so prefer some cloud cover).

We aimed to check out Eston Riverside Regional Park as a possible camping location. At a bend in the river before the park the river suddenly became wide and very shallow. The deep channels along the shorelines disappeared. We ended up beaching and dragging the canoe until it was too shallow to budge it (keep in mind the canoe likely weighed a total of maybe 300 pounds without us in it).

We scouted the channel depth ahead on foot. We were only about 10 or 15 feet from a deeper channel, but could not get the canoe over to the channel. We tried to dig a trench in the silt/sand in front of it, but the current kept collapsing our digging efforts. Eventually we dug a trench deep and wide enough,
with our feet, to drag the canoe into deep water. At this point we had reached the beginnings of the river delta area where the current slowed as it entered Lake Diefenbaker. The current was still quite strong for the next 20 or 30 km, as the lake level was somewhat lower than maximum at the time.

This was the last time  we beached the canoe and had to drag it, as from this point forward we managed somewhat by intution and perhaps lucky guesses, to find the deep hidden channels within the river. We enjoyed this added challenge. Clues included watching the water surface for the fastest moving current, plus imagining where the laws of momentum would take the bulk of the water as it twisted and turned around bends.

We reached Eston Riverside Regional Park around 2 pm. I stepped out to take a look around
while Saryn napped in the canoe (we anchored it to a large stick sunk deep into the mud and reinforced with rocks). The park was primarily a collection of cottages ranging from small plywood shacks to extravagant multi-level mansions, nothing like what we saw at Lemburg Ferry Regional Park. This was obviously a getaway for some that lived and worked as far as Saskatoon.  It almost seemed surreal after being away from such sights for even the short time we had been on the river. The park was evidently heavily irrigated, as it was full of lush trees and grass, and obvious oasis in the semi-arid climate.

There was an outdoor swimming pool full of adults and kids, canteen with the typical confectionery wares, and a small RV park on the side, at least half to two thirds full of RV’s, campers and trailers, and maybe the odd tent (about 50 sites total according to website).

After a 20 minute walk around the cottages to stretch my legs and get a feel of the place, I returned to the canoe. We decided to keep on going and find a wilderness campsite. Partly because this park felt too developed, busy and noisy, and partly because it was a long paddle from Eston to Cabri Regional Park which we planned to check out next.

We left around 2:30 pm and passed some cottagers/campers canoeing and kayaking near a boat launch. They did not seem interested to visit and did not care to advise us that our initial routing north of a large “island” would end up being a dead end. The paddlers did not seem to venture much farther than 1 km from the boat launch. We soon had the river to ourselves, which would continue until reaching Lake Diefenbaker near Cabri Regional Park the next day. We never passed any other canoe trippers the entire trip.

At this point we were passing what was shown on the map as a large undeveloped area to the south, a community pasture of native prairie, about 12 by 8 miles in size, with no developed roads shown on the map. This area had the most “wild” and isolated feel of the overall trip.

We saw many cows, but no humans at all, except once someone on a dirt-bike in the far distance, likely checking on the cattle. At one point we heard but could not see construction equipment, which I guessed were digging a gravel pit in the gravelly hills to the south.

We also saw funny triangular signs, (often with bullet holes in the them) along the hills adjacent to the river shorelines. At first we thought these were placed by the ranchers to mark popular watering holes the cows visited, so they could find the animals to check on them. But the signs were not consistently placed at what appeared to be common watering holes. We later learned these were placed by government surveyors to mark the property line of crown land along the river and private land beyond. Although we did not realize this at the time, we never did venture beyond the signs onto private land, as there was plenty of shoreline space for stopping.

The wind was behind us and we made good progress. A highlight of the trip was to discover on this  afternoon a section of river abundant with unique water birch (Betula occidentalis, also known as Red Birch) along the shores and on the little islands, in some places the water birch were more than half the trees along shore. We only saw these trees along this section of the river.

Dense Water Birch groves flanking both shores (incl'd large island on left)(3pm)

The groves of birch looked inviting so we decided to stop and explore inside a grove. From a distance
they looked like an inviting place to set up camp, but turned out to be full of cow manure and some cow bones (we think). Obviously the cows thought the groves looked inviting as well for protection from both hot and cold, as well as for wallowing in the mud for relief from flies and mosquitoes.

Inside a grove of Water Birch (Betula occidentalis) (4pm)

As we drifted further, we decided to take a break while drifting with the now quite strong tail wind. We ate a quick pre-supper and Saryn read from a book while we drifted without paddling. After an hour break, the sun started to turn organgish and hang lower. We started hunting for a campsite in earnest, first along the south shores. They were either very open (little trees), or thick with waist high rosebushes. We saw a sandy escarpment along the north shore and headed there. It
turned out to be a perfect site.

The embankment provided a nice sandy dock, which allowed us to pull the canoe in parallel to shore without beaching it. We anchored the canoe and unloaded. We threw the gear up a ~6′ high bank and found a perfect place for the tent nestled between a small hill (2 metres high) on the east and a willow bluff (8 ft high willows) on the west.

Unloading at an idyllic sand dock (7:20 p.m.)

We saw some cows further upstream and were at first concerned they might trample through the campsite as their trails passed somewhat close, but we never saw them again after setting up. We encountered bulls later in the trip, but fortunately not here.

But we did jump when we heard a coyote howl loudly at very close range, likely 50 feet or so, just behind the hill on the east side of camp. Soon after a pack of coyotes howled in the distance from a group of trees several hundred metres north. Instantly, the instincts of our ancient hunter-gatherer ancestors came alive. Adrenaline was pumping. I grabbed a large stick and Saryn’s hand as we crept around the hill to see where the coyote may be hiding. I’d rather surprise the coyote, then have it surprise us. Expecting to meet at the top of the hill, we were relieved to see the lone coyote running across the prairie toward his hidden pack in the distant trees. I’m not sure if he knew we were there or not.

While a somber reminder we shared the land with other mammals, we felt a new sense of awe, wonder and connection with the land and place. It was at this time we started to feel some of the connection with the natural world, and disconnection with the civilized, that I find so refreshing and what makes the extra work of such a trip seem worthwhile.

We also saw a beaver nonchalantly chewing on willow branches along shore, about 50 feet downstream of camp along shore. He did not seem to mind us watching him. We made it to bed just as the sun was setting.

Day 1 and 2 Map

See next post for the next portion of map for Day 2.

I woke up earlier than the rest of the family and browsed pamphlets about local sites at the adjacent convenience store while waiting for them to wake up. Ate breakfast, packed up and hung out waiting for the parents to arrive with the canoe.

THE CANOE  is an old 1970′s fiberglass family canoe (manufactured in St. Maurice, Quebec). It has no rocker (flat bottom front to back), a flat-bottomed cross-section and keel front to back. This makes the canoe stable and slow to turn. Good for wind and large water bodies, not so good for maneuverability and speed. Considering we were traveling downstream in a potentially windy prairie environment with a beginner paddler, it served its purpose well. Low (no) cost was a bonus as well.

The parents stayed at a hotel in Swift Current the night before. Parents arrived around 10am, drove down to the river down the old garbage dump road. The road was flanked on each side by scenic native prairie pastures, becoming a rarity as the native prairie is modified to cropland or alternative grass pasture. Loaded and launched canoe, leaving daughter with grandpa & grandma.

Approaching Highway 21 Bridge (11:30 am)

Ate lunch while paddling on the river (bannock, trail mix, etc).  It was a very hot afternoon, about 32 Celsius (90 F). Heat is not so much of a challenge if there is some wind. Cycling produces its own wind, but paddling produces little. Considering there was very little wind, we had to drink lots to minimize dehydration and heat exhaustion.

We jokingly measured time/distance in units of irrigation pumps, usually passing one every half hour or so initially. We saw a lot of wildlife, including pelicans and a female moose with a young one. In the semi-arid climate, the river attracted most animals in the area. As a result, we saw more wildlife than I have typically seen canoeing in the boreal forest up north.

Cow Moose and Calf (just before disappearing into the trees, honest!)

The river was typically flanked with balsam poplars and occasional willow trees on each side. Behind the trees was pasture and farmland on the valley bottom behind, but this was not very visible. We occasionally saw the outline of a farm yard through the trees. Because of the trees and river banks, the river had a more isolated and wild feel than it really was. This was in some ways the best of both worlds, the appearance of being immersed in the natural world with help not far away if needed.

Pelican (1:30 pm)

We saw many cattle napping in shade of the trees or coming to the river for water. We passed an abandoned ferry crossing, with a concrete ramp on each side, used by local farmers for irrigation pump access.

I had read on the internet to beware of hidden rip rap (large rocks) placed under water along former ferry crossings. The rip rap was used to help buoy up the ferries when the water level was low.  We did not see any rip rap and the river was plenty deep for canoes along this section.

We paddled without much of a rest until reaching the operational six-car ferry adjacent to Lemsford Ferry Regional Park around 4 pm. We had travelled about 30 km east-west as the crow flies, possibly about 35 or 40 km(?) considering bends in the river. There was signs along the river for the ferry, but no sign for the regional park, so we weren’t sure where it was or if it was open (some regional parks shown on maps are now abandoned).

Lemsford Ferry, Photo by Dr. Dennis Lehmkuhl in August 2009 (1)

The ferry operator was friendly and I visited with him while Saryn went to check if the regional park was open and where was the best place to beach the canoe, as the banks of the river were fairly steep along this section. The ferry operator was a local rancher/farmer who worked the ferry on the side. He knew all the car drivers pulling up as the ferry carries local traffic only, for the most part. He told stories while waiting for cars about how the water level has at times come up as high as six feet overnight, leaving the ferry out in the middle of the river, or vice-versa, leaving the ferry beached. When beached they have to get a tractor with cable to pull it back into the water.

There are two ferry crossings at this location which they use alternatingly depending on the water level. There are sand/silt-bars that come and go in the middle of the river, sometimes causing the ferry to beach in mid-river. If the sandbars are an obstruction, the ferry is moved to the other location.

  Lemsford Ferry Crossing, Photo by Dr. Dennis Lehmkuhl in August 2009 (1)

The shores of the river here were silty and mucky, and soon the canoe floor was too. We had to canoe back upstream so we could cross the submerged ferry cable further out in the river. The cable position used to be elevated above the water a few feet, but it is now submerged to allow boaters to get through with greater ease and safety.

The only hint of the regional park was two women sitting in lawn chairs submerged waist-deep in the river, next to a crude boat launch. The boat launch was essentially a narrow (one vehicle width) path through the bush into the river. We later heard from the campground employee that one of the women felt a submersed snake slide over her leg while it floated/swam downstream, which quickly got them out of the water!

There was no beach at the regional park, just some rocks in the water at the base of a steep bank about 10 to 15 feet high. The regional park sole employee helped pull our canoe and gear up at the suggested docking location. We had to make two or three attempts to get the canoe to shore with the relatively strong current and our lack of experience maneuvering in a current. Like a lot of prairie infrastructure far from urban centers,  the regional park appeared to have had better days. I guessed it was built in the 1960′s to 1970′s with no updates since.

UPDATE: The website for the park indicates it officially opened in 1967 and provincial government assistance withdrawn in 1996:

http://lemsford.tripod.com/history.htm

The park consisted of a picnic area near the river with old picnic tables and fire pits, an old swimming pool empty and out-of-service (with grass and I think some trees growing in it), a baseball diamond overgrown with weeds, unpainted concrete block washrooms/changrooms, and a rustic plywood snack shack that was open periodically when the store employees/owners were not fishing. There was a collection of about 20 fishing shacks (very basic) adjacent to the park. While the park was a bit more rustic and sparse than we expected, it was all that we needed. And the price was right at $10 for one night.

We made supper at a picnic table near the trees that line the river. Supper included bannock mixed from a flour/baking powder mix we took along and smokies fried in a frying pan with the camp stove. We regretted not bringing more fresh fruit, especially apples which generally travel well. At least three pieces of fresh fruit each per day would have been ideal, instead of the one I packed (thinking dried fruit generally adequate).

We took turns showering and cooking. The shower was much needed, washing silt covered feet especially. The shower consisted of three shower heads attached to bare copper pipes along a bare cinder-crete block wall. I was worried at first there would be no hot water, but the hot water supply was sufficient.

Supper felt like a lot of work after a long, hot day, cooking over a hot stove. In hindsight we should have cooked more of the bannock at home and packed it along (note for next time). The campground employee came and talked while we cooked, he seemed lonely as the park does not seem to get many visitors and he is not likely paid much.

He used to live in Alberta on the Little Red Deer River and told us about meeting canoeists while fishing and inviting them to camp on his property. He had a wicker cowboy hat and advised us to get wicker hats rather than our cotton tilly hats as the wicker is much cooler and more comfortable in the heat (note for next time).  He used to work in a trade (I think?) but is no longer able to because of his health. He confirmed reports of bull snakes being common, but rattle snakes less so.

The bull snakes apparently are not poisonous, they just have sharp teeth and will bite to defend a perceived threat (i.e. innocent human about to step on them unknowingly).

He told us we were the fifth or sixth canoeists to come down the river this year. One group was a father & daughter who came from Calgary (about one week?) and planned to canoe to Ontario. They had a screen tent they set up, ate and slept in. Another group was some Europeans canoeing from the Rockies to (?). The campground employee generously gave us some drinking water from his store-bought supply.

We bought a large bag of ice at the fishing shack/store for our cooler as the freezer packs we had were already warm. It was one of the last bags they had! In hindsight we should not have relied so much on the cooler for food preservation, as ice may not have been available.

We set up the tent as it was getting dark and the mosquitoes were now coming out in full force. I regretted not bringing a watch with me as we never quite knew what time it was. I checked the cell phone periodically but was paranoid about the batteries going dead so avoided this. I did not bring the cell phone charger, which again I should have done. Note this is the first canoe trip I have ever organized as an adult. My parents took care of the trip supplies planning on previous trips.

We set up the tent at a nice cozy spot in the trees near the edge of the river bank where we pulled the canoe up . There was evidence of past flooding with silty ground and bushes, water-logged picnic table (now dried out) and organic debris (branches, roots, etc) wrapped around the trees and bushes from the current during flooding.

Looking south from tent site, away from the river

Looking toward river from tent site as darkness falls and mosquitoes rise (9:15pm)

Overall on the trip we slept very well and tended to sleep in, which is unusual for me when camping. I think this is mainly due to the fact that we brought the deluxe 2 inch thick full body length therma-rests. These are pretty much as comfortable as a spring mattress. It is debatable if they were worth bringing though, because they took up significant room in the canoe and we ened up placing them upright in the canoe, which caught a lot of wind and contributed to difficult steering during windy times. A smaller (i.e. one or 1.5 inch) partial body length therma-rest may be the happy medium between the deluxe model and the not-so-great thin blue foamies we used to use on canoe trips.

On one hand I missed the more complete escape from civilization of previous wilderness trips, but on the other hand it was nice to have showers and potable water close by, especially considering the river was so silty and relatively polluted compared to the north.

According to Dr. Dennis Lehmkuhl’s website, there is an interesting high level of mayfly biodiversity observed at this site in August 2009. A more detailed report can be found at his website below:

(1) http://www.dennislehmkuhl.com/18601/184123.html

Quoted from website above:

The South Saskatchewan River at Lemsford Ferry, near the Alberta border is little impacted by dams, pulp mills, sewage, or effleuents, and I find that it is unique in the Saskatchewan River system.  It seems to be unique in the world. It has  has a very diverse mayfly community that is not only a large number of species present, but also found are very unusual, rare,or otherwise unique species.  Many are shared with the Colorado River  system, some are eastern or mountain species, and the combination unusual. 

Found here are species of the genera  Ametropus, Lachlania, Isonychia, Raptoheptagenia, Macdunnoa,Traverella, Choroterpes, Acanthamola, and probably Pseudiron and Analetris.  Also present are the more common genera Ephoron, Heptagenia, Stenonema, Stenacron, many genera of Baetidae, plus Tricorythidae, and others.

The website includes many interesting details related to the general health of the South Saskatchewan River and threats to sustained biodiversity along the river.

Day 1

See end of the next post for rest of map from Day 1.

On “Day Zero” aka “Getting There”, Saryn and I drove to Leader, Saskatchewan via Alsask. From Alsask to Leader we travelled highways I have never travelled before. South of Alsask we encountered an abandoned GULF gas station in the middle of the prairies, with no other farms or buildings in sight. There was an old, crooked sign hanging near the highway indicating “GULF”. I considered and now regret not stopping to take what would have been an interesting photo. I vow to go back, but not likely to travel the highway again for a long time. The highways  were very windy as they attempted to follow the road allowance grid pattern (as most highways in SK did at one time).

As we crossed the South Sask River just north of Leader, I surveyed the chocolate coloured river with exposed sandbars and somewhat open prairie landscape along the shores, and wondered if the route selection was a good choice, especially for Saryn’s first canoe trip. I was mainly concerned with possible extensive shallow water/sandbars that we would have to drag the canoe through and high winds with little trees for shelter. Oh yeah, and the poisonous snakes…

We arrived at Saryn’s friend’s home (the S’s) in Leader by late afternoon. We enjoyed some cool drinks, as the weather was very hot. On the way to check out the town campground, Mr. S and I ran into his friend who has done some canoeing on the South Sask River. I was eager to hear any information he could provide as the stretch of river we were planning to paddle is not a common or popular route, so I was not able to find any information on the internet about it beforehand.

He had canoed on the South Sask River mostly upstream of Leader (CFB base to Leader), but also to Lemburg Ferry Regional Park (but not beyond). He mentioned there was some interesting cliffs along the river upstream of Leader by The Forks (Red Deer and South Sask Rivers), which we would miss as we were starting downstream from the forks. He also mentioned to watch out for rattle snakes and bull snakes. We packed leather boots with high ankles for hiking, in preparation for this. Mr. S seemed to wonder why on earth we would choose such a vacation!

We set up our tent two blocks away at the town campground near the railway tracks. Cooked
and ate supper. Mr. S drove us down to the river to scope out a launching site, about 3 km west of the Highway 21 bridge.

As we observed a spectacular sunset, my concerns about the trip washed away and were replaced with anticipation of a new adventure. This feeling seems to come strongest with self-propelled trips and makes the extra work of preparation and planning worthwhile.

South Saskatchewan River, north of Leader, Looking West

South Sask River, Looking East (8:30 pm)

An irrigation pump droned across the River for the small strips of cropland in the river valley bottom. After this Mr. S gave us a tour of the animal sculptures around town, a popular “tourist” attraction of many small Sask towns and villages. The local primary economies that fuel the town are mainly natural gas extraction and agriculture.

Campground in Leader, SK

There were no other campers in the town campground at the time, however it was a little noisy from traffic on the adjacent street. Considering this plus streetlights shining through the tent walls made it quite late before falling asleep (5-6 hours sleep that night). There also seems to be an adjustment period when transitioning to sleeping in tents from buildings (that I often forget about).

There were no washrooms at the campground (water and sewer hookup for RV’s only, not intended for tenting).  Saryn had to rush to the adjacent store in the morning to use the washroom.