Today I headed out to explore a new part of Tthenaago. I had heard of "Pete's Trail", a route leading from the old abandoned airfield up to a knoll about halfway between the peak and the cliffs.
After a quick lunch I headed down to the water and loaded up my raft. I paddled out to the main channel and let the current take me. I wasn't entirely sure where the path to the airfield was, but had been told to keep an eye out for a clearing along the riverbank.
After a quick lunch I headed down to the water and loaded up my raft. I paddled out to the main channel and let the current take me. I wasn't entirely sure where the path to the airfield was, but had been told to keep an eye out for a clearing along the riverbank.
I stayed fairly close to shore as I searched for the clearing, but not too close - a wise choice, as it turned out, because as I floated I heard a crash behind me. Over my shoulder I saw a half-dozen trees tumble into the water as the bank crumbled away beneath them. Erosion is a constant factor alongside a river that rises and falls as much as the South Nahanni, and is definetly something to keep in mind when you paddle close to shore.
Before long I picked out the clearing and pulled in to a snug little cove. The airfield was about 50 meters back from the water, and really isn't much to look at. Years ago Parks Canada had a field office there, but after a major rockslide they decided that living in the shadow of an unstable mountain wasn't really a great idea. They packed up and moved to Fort Simpson instead.
Today the airfield is mostly overgrown, and the only thing of note out there was the network of trails made by the Wood Buffalo as they went about their business.
The next order of business was finding the path up to the knoll, but after about 20 minutes of scouring the forest's edge I found what seemed to be the trail. "Trail" is something of a generous term as it is intensely overgrown, but I was able to find my way well enough.
The day was hot, pushing 30C, and the humidity hinted at the storms forecast later in the week. The mosquitos were intense, but I also made my acquaintence with what the locals call 'Bulldogs" - large horseflies that seem to exist for no other reason than to torment anyone who wants to be outside. About the size of a nickel, they sound like a helicopter when they buzz past your ear and take noticable chunks from your arm every time they bite you. I finally caved and put on my bug net -- drowning in sweat was a small price to pay for some measure of protection from their attacks.
Things improved as I got moving. The forest was alive with birdsong, and every so often a breeze would briefly clear my insect entourage. The sunlight filtered down through the trees, and everywhere I looked was lush and green.
The trail took a rambling route up hillocks and down through gullies, but it was in bad shape and it often vanished in the undergrowth. I was usually able to figure out where it had gone, but after about two hours I crossed a little creek and couldn't find any trace of it. I searched and searched, but in every direction all I got was a face full of tree. I decided to call it a day -- I was packed light, and didn't want to spend the rest of the evening blundering around an unfamiliar piece of mountainside. Of course, now the challenge was finding my way back down...
The day was hot, pushing 30C, and the humidity hinted at the storms forecast later in the week. The mosquitos were intense, but I also made my acquaintence with what the locals call 'Bulldogs" - large horseflies that seem to exist for no other reason than to torment anyone who wants to be outside. About the size of a nickel, they sound like a helicopter when they buzz past your ear and take noticable chunks from your arm every time they bite you. I finally caved and put on my bug net -- drowning in sweat was a small price to pay for some measure of protection from their attacks.
Things improved as I got moving. The forest was alive with birdsong, and every so often a breeze would briefly clear my insect entourage. The sunlight filtered down through the trees, and everywhere I looked was lush and green.
The trail took a rambling route up hillocks and down through gullies, but it was in bad shape and it often vanished in the undergrowth. I was usually able to figure out where it had gone, but after about two hours I crossed a little creek and couldn't find any trace of it. I searched and searched, but in every direction all I got was a face full of tree. I decided to call it a day -- I was packed light, and didn't want to spend the rest of the evening blundering around an unfamiliar piece of mountainside. Of course, now the challenge was finding my way back down...
Eventually I made it back to the river, and after a quick drink and a snack I pushed off and paddled for home. I wanted to avoid the main channel if possible, so I stuck to the small snyes and tried to zig-zag my way back to town. At one point I hit a patch of deadwater, so I just relaxed for a whilte and looked back at the mountain.
Nice as it was to float there, the clouds were getting darker by the minute. I made it to the final stretch, but rather than paddle the last 2km against the current I took advantage of the packraft's mobility and island hopped. I paddled up to a bank, hopped out, slung my raft over my shoulder and walked across to the far side before paddling over to the next island and doing it again.
Before long I was upstream of town, so I put in for the final time and floated down to the town dock. It's a shame I couldn't find the knoll, but oh well. A good day hike.
Addendum: there are apparently a couple of routes heading out from the airfield, and it seems I wasn't actually on Pete's trail. Maybe my path just lead to the creek after all?
Before long I was upstream of town, so I put in for the final time and floated down to the town dock. It's a shame I couldn't find the knoll, but oh well. A good day hike.
Addendum: there are apparently a couple of routes heading out from the airfield, and it seems I wasn't actually on Pete's trail. Maybe my path just lead to the creek after all?
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