O f f T H E t O N G u e
how much further Papa smurf?
PHoto scott macgregor
i Hope i never learn
D
AYS BEFORE, local reports on the Marmora After the first couple kilometres of fast-moving “What in Lord’s name are you doing in my yard?”
Area Canoe and Kayak Festival website said class I and II we know we’ve left the Beaver for Too difficult to explain.
Beaver Creek was still frozen. At 3 p.m. when good. We also know that we are well past the Dianne feeds us cookies and hot tea, loads us
we finally arrive, however, the water beneath the point of no return. Joking of a new first descent, in the back of her deceased husband’s Dodge
take-out bridge is running high and fast. we continue threading our way down through Dakota and drives us 22 kilometres back to where
We head to the put-in eight kilometres up- flooded hardwood forest. we had set off to almost run the Beaver.
stream—no shuttle arranged, agreeing that we’ll Finally, at the intersection of an old train bridge Hunkered down out of the wind and sleet we’re
walk back to the truck if we have to. and hydro line corridor, we climb up to take a giddy with our good fortune. It turns out that con-
The Beaver is considered an intermediate to look. Beyond the bridge the swollen creek feeds tinuing past the bridge would have meant two
advanced class III-IV run, one you could run in through dense bush, thick and constrictive as a kilometres of bush-crashing leading into a 100-
four hours but typically stretch to a full day. Now kitchen strainer. acre swampy meadow. Dragging our boats in
3:30 on a cold, sleeting early spring afternoon, we We guess we have an hour of daylight left, the other direction would have taken us down 16
need to hustle to get down before dark. tops. Eating the last of our lunches and weigh- kilometres of snowmobile trails before reaching
At the bottom of Triple Drop, the first significant ing our options, we thank God that our wives and Beaver Creek.
rapid, the Beaver slips away from us beneath a girlfriends aren’t here. Infrequent faint rumbling of Even with a river full of ice, missing the run en-
layer of spongy ice. The half-frozen crust is thick heavy equipment off to the right urges us to begin tirely, hiking out in the dark and hitching a ride
enough to support the surface area of our boats, dragging our boats in this direction, away from with a kindly widow, we agree this is river run-
but not enough that we can walk on top without the river. ning at its best—exploration, camaraderie and
falling through. After a kilometre of poling with By the time we reach a log landing, the skidder adventure. You just don’t find this in a man-made
paddles and swinging our boats beneath our arms crews have long gone home. We continue hiking, whitewater park.
as if on parallel bars, we face an icy crossroads. boats now scraping along a muddy bush road, “I certainly hope you boys have learned your
Straight ahead as far as we can see is another until we reach the end of a country road and the lesson,” Dianne warns, waving and driving away.
500 metres of ice. To the right a flooded but open home of Dianne MacDonald. Dianne is feeding “Oh yes, ma’am,” we shout. Knowing full well
channel dekes into the woods. We figure with the her birds when her flashlight bounces off the re- we haven’t.
50-year record high water and the constriction of flective strips on my drysuit.
SCott MaCGreGor is the publisher of Rapid, Adventure Kayak,
ice below, this temporary channel will link back to “Are you guys kayakers?”
Canoeroots and Kayak Angler magazine. this year on the Beaver he’ll
the Beaver’s main flow. “Yes.” be carrying a compass and wearing shoes.
Rapid
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