For 35 years, Bowes flew canoeists into
the Dumoine River valley acting as both transportation and wilderness turnstile, limiting and controlling access with each drop. “Back then crowding wasn’t a problem.
Ronnie kept a keen eye on the groups. He was pretty good at dropping you at an open site and then nudging you along so that you’d be evenly spaced apart,” Wally tells me as we tie down our canoes to his van. “Some- how in those days there seemed to be more class to it.” I have to admit stepping off the left float
of a Beaver is more romantic than the three- hour teeth chattering rattle north into Que- bec. Trailhead goes through three sets of shocks a season and sells off their shuttle vans every three years. I made a note to nev- er buy a used white passenger van in Ottawa. With the increase in fuel prices and a
change of ownership from Bradley Air to Air Swisha, the flight almost doubled in price overnight. At about the same time, forest- ry operations opened a logging road north from Grand Chute linking to Bush Road #819 providing real public access to the most popular section of the Dumoine. With my wife, Tanya, and Brian asleep in
the back seats of the van, the kids plugged into the DVD player, I rode shotgun next to Wally for a three-hour history lesson about the river.
Near the end of the First World War, the
boys camp, Keewaydin, pioneered recre- ational canoe tripping on the Dumoine. From their Lake Temagami base, the boys jumped in green cedar canvas canoes, head- ing out for four weeks. At Lac Benoît, the campers met up with their river guides. Keewaydin hired J.R. Booth lumbermen to lead the groups down the 60 kilometers of challenging whitewater. We had Brian. At the peak of the log drive 3,000 men
worked the river. Te true Dumoine wilder- ness was being floated down the rapids to- ward the Ottawa River. Massive old-growth pine would then find its way to England and the United States to be used for things like ocean liner decks. Even the Keewaydin teenagers wouldn’t
have known the Dumoine as a wilderness river. Trees closer to the river were easy pick- ing, the first to be cut and splashed into the water. Supply depots and large farms, like the Rowanton Depot with 75 acres of wheat, 200 head of cattle and a post office, provided for the loggers. By 1918, the camp boys may have been paddling through a shoreline of scrubby second growth. However, by the early ‘70s, farming mostly abandoned, the banks of the Dumoine were rejuvenated, ready for adventure. In 1972, Wally and his partner Chris Har-
ris pioneered wilderness canoe tripping on the Dumoine. Teir 1978 Black Feather Wil-
www.canoerootsmag.com 39
Left page: Looking across the Ottawa River to the Dumoine River valley.
Top left: Bridge Rapids put-in with pioneer Wally Schaber, second from right.
Top right: Classic Dumoine class II.
Bottom: Settling in at Margaret Spry shelter and campsite.
By 1918, the camp boys may have been paddling through
a shoreline of scrubby second growth. However, by the early ‘70s, farming mostly
abandoned, the banks of the Dumoine were rejuvenated, ready for adventure.
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