Graduation day on the lower Petawawa River

Graduation day on the lower Petawawa River All aboard nature’s rollercoaster

By Kevin Callan Photos by Paul Chivers

CANOEING

DON’T TRIFLE with the Petawawa River.

The ferocity of the lower Petawawa is the stuff of legend on Algonquin Parkʼs only major whitewater canoe route. Dave, Peter, Scott and I cut our whitewater teeth on lesser rivers before we felt our skills were sufficient for the river the Algonkian tribe called “a noise heard from far away.”

The Petawawa originates in the western reaches of the 7,725 squarekilometres that is majestic Algonquin Park. The renowned lower stretch separating Cedar and McManus Lakes by about a weekʼs paddle boasts the most intimidating whitewater on the river.

As intermediate paddlers, our group elects to limit ourselves to the shorter route between Lake Traverse and McManus Lake. The car shuttle is less time-consuming, the rapids are less technical, and most portages can be avoided with moderate whitewater experience. Beware the river in the spring, however, when itʼs gorged with Algonquinʼs abundant snowmelt – the water may bring to bear too much volume and speed to be safe. And itʼs cold until mid-May.

At the Lake Traverse put-in, we take advantage of the frothy water at the base of the rapids to practise our paddle strokes. Most whitewater enthusiasts find the 90-minute flatwater trip across the expanse of Lake Traverse a bit monotonous. It has every bit of the splendour of an Algonquin postcard, but all we can think about are the hammering rapids ahead of us. We finally see where Traverse narrows and the flat water is pinched between the steep-sided, V-shaped valley.

The water slides faster under our craft as we approach the first run at Big Thompson Rapids, but itʼs rather anti-climactic. Some years the water level is low during the summer and autumn from lack of rain. We lift the canoe around the first drop and walk ahead with the gear to scout the lower portion of the rapid. Convinced we can take the canoe through, we return to our craft to find a pair of paddlers dressed to the hilt in purple PFDs, blaze-orange dry suits and metallic helmets. They stand high atop a rock, pointing and planning their route through the churning water below.

INTO THE FAST WATER

Uneasy with an audience on our first run, Scott and I push off and back ferry across to the opposite bank.

We eddy in behind a boulder, twist around, shoot down a narrow channel and sideslip to the right, just missing the bottom ledge by half a paddle length. We shout urgent, terse commands as Scott pries with his paddle at the bow and I brace mine in to shift the canoe sideways. The teamwork pays off as weʼre spit out the far end right side up.

The two canoeists in the other party arenʼt as successful. They bounce down the centre of the run like a steel ball launched in a pinball machine. By the time they reach calmer water beyond the rapid, theyʼre in the drink and gripping the gunwales of their overturned canoe. Their weekend has officially begun.

About five minutes downstream, our foursome disembarks once again to survey Little Thompson Rapids and carry our packs over the steep, 165-metre portage to the left. Since we walk alongside the larger rapids to scope out our route anyway, we take the packs with us and leave the canoes behind. It makes it easier if we do capsize because our equipment doesnʼt need to be rescued. And an empty canoe has more buoyancy, which can help when the river is squeezed into a raging torrent.

The low water level works against us at Little Thompson, too, so we attach lining ropes to the bow and stern and walk the canoe down the left bank like a dog on a leash. Below the Thompson Rapid series, the current slows down for

about six kilometres, interrupted only by a small swift and the level one Grillade Rapids. Both areas are easily run, but they do have portages of 130 metres and 425 metres marked to the right.

Soon, the Crooked Chute appears to tear down the confidence weʼve slowly been building. Itʼs a dangerous piece of work regardless of the water level. Thereʼs a boneyard of battered canoes scattered at its base that attests to its cranky character. Paddlers without a great deal of whitewater acumen should watch for the take-out marking the 1,580-metre portage on the right bank. Skilled canoeists have the option to paddle through the upper stretch and use a second take-out 400 metres downstream, or even a third take-out at a campsite just prior to the chute itself. Donʼt shoot the chute. Once youʼre on the trail, the remaining 600 metres splits soon after the campsite. The main trail is to the right, and leads away from the river up a steep knoll.

Our foursome is planning to stay near the base of Crooked Chute at the old rangerʼs cabin, built in the early 1920s and probably the oldest cabin left standing in the park. Somehow, the metallic helmet fanatics beat us to it. All the other campsites at Crooked Chute are occupied as well, so we head downstream and run a short swift with a 120-metre portage marked to the right. Tired and sore, we pitch our tents at an inferior campsite near the take-out for Rollway Rapids. This is one of the most technical rapids on the river, and the low water levels make the run a shallow, sloppy mess littered with unseen rocks. We decide to carry the canoes through the 840-metre portage before dinner.

There is still enough evening light to search for the side-trail that leads to the Blair Fraser memorial. The bronze cross set into cement commemorates the journalist and member of “the Voyageurs” who drowned here during a springtime trip in 1968 when he missed the landing and capsized. The Ottawa press corps coined the groupʼs name after wellknown paddler, Eric Morse, founded it in 1951. Fraserʼs comrades on his ill-fated journey, which included former Prime Minister Pierre Elliot Trudeau, erected the cross in his memory.

BILL MASON’S FAVOURITE SPOTS

With Rollway at our backs next morning, we come to a double set of rapids called the Natch. Both sections have portages of 275 metres and 250 metres marked on the left bank; the first one is more rugged. The campsite close to the take-out of the first portage was a favorite filming location of the late Bill Mason. The artist, canoeist, and filmmaker banked lots of footage at the Natch for his contributions to the National Film Board. And it was here, under the overhanging cedars opposite the impressive cliff, that Masonʼs cover photograph for Song of the Paddle was taken by his son, Paul.

Masonʼs first book of the series, Path of the Paddle, provides a horrific account of an accidental drowning on the Petawawa:

“As I was scooping a pail of water from the river I looked up and saw a bright orange object at the base of the rapids. I groaned aloud and said to Ken (his cameraman), ʻThereʼs a packsack out there that some poor guyʼs lost. I better go out and get it before it sinks.ʼ As I neared the object, my heart nearly stopped. The orange packsack took on the shape of a life jacket and the purple

shape within it became a manʼs face. For a split second, all the energy drained out of me.”

Mason and some new arrivals at the scene spent hours trying to revive him. He recounts the ghastly story to emphasize proper landing procedures at a portage at the top of a rapid. Drowning can occur when paddlers try to avoid running the rapids by pulling up bow-first at the portage. When the stern swings out hard into the current, the rear paddler can lose his balance and dump into the cold tage to the right and the second with a 160-metre portage to the left. Next is Schooner Rapids and Five Mile Rapids. Schooner has two portages of 2,305 metres and 1,400 metres on the left bank separated by a calm section just past a bridge and under a hydro line. The Five Mile Rapids portage of 3,400 metres is on the right, with the put-in on the southwest end of Coveo Lake. Not to worry—the lengthy portage trails are used most by hardy canoeists who shirk convention by making their way up-river.

The Petawawa is for experienced canoeists only.

water. The river quickly sweeps the victim into the centre and the avalanche of whitewater below sucks them under.

Our fate, however, is much more fortuitous—downstream from the Natch is pure bliss! Even where the water appears flat, it is slowly and surely propelling us toward the finish. A four-kilometre section of flat water features two small swifts, the first with a 135-metre por

The beauty of this eight-kilometre stretch of whitewater and occasional swifts is the level one and two rating over the entire section; they are easily negotiated during both high and low water conditions. During low-water years, however, some sections may come to resemble rock gardens and force paddlers to become waders.

It is generally known that large portions of the Petawawa can be unforgiving, so we are amazed to meet people on the river who are canoeing novices. It quickly becomes apparent they are taking on too much too fast. Our most memorable encounter with neophyte paddlers occurred during our second evening on the river. Settled in at the first site marked along the Five Mile portage just before dusk, four bedraggled canoeists strolled into our camp. They had misjudged the ominous haystack waves during the first 300 metres of the rapid.

All four were catapulted from their 17-foot aluminum Gruman canoe. While they were still airborne, a pile of jagged, widow-maker rocks punched holes through the aluminum like cannonballs.

When they found us, they had left their canoe for dead and were sharing a bottle of dark rum on their walk back to the nearest road about 10 kilometres downstream. Dave, who is a veritable duct tape artist, helped repair their smashed canoe and we offered them room to pitch their tents. Come morning, our neighbors were still in high spirits as they set out in the wallowing Gruman.

Much of our last day on the river is spent wading in the cold river. Overnight, the water level dropped to almost drought conditions and weʼre forced to haul our craft along grassy banks and over gravel riffl es where rapids should be. Eventually, the river empties into Whitson Lake, where the Petawawaʼs northern rugged charm is softened by stands of silver maple and basswood, which are usually more at home further south. We paddle south through Smith Lake and McManus Lake and easily run the two swifts on the way. We ignore the fi rst 500-metre portage marked to the left and the second 90- metre portage to the right.

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By mid-afternoon, we reach the takeout at the southwestern end of McManus Lake. By the time we returned from Lake Traverse with the second vehicle, we are treated to a fi nal spectacle. Itʼs the “the fab four” heading down McManus Lake in their leaky aluminum canoe, fi lled with humility now, rather than the juice of the sugar cane. — Kevin Callan has paddled many of the wild rivers in Ontario and Quebec. Look for his books everywhere you shop.

The Lake Traverse to McManus Lake route works nicely into a three-day weekend.

Before putting in at Lake Traverse, you must fi rst drive a second vehicle to the route’s end. From Highway 17, turn left on County Road 26, about nine kilometres west of Pembroke. Proceed 300 metres and take the fi rst right at the Achray Road. Proceed 26 kilometres to Sand Lake Gate at the park boundary.

After you pick up your interior camping permit, continue along the north road for 6.4 kilometres and turn right onto the McManus Access Road. Drive a good eight kilometres down the bumpy, dirt road and leave your pick-up vehicle in the designated parking lot.

Now head back to Achray Road and to Look for Kevin’s books on shelves everywhere around the city. the access point by turning right and driving 47 kilometres to the Algonquin Radio Observatory area. Soon after passing the observatory gate, turn right onto the side-road that leads to Lake Traverse. The put-in is downstream from an iron bridge, directly below Poplar Rapids. TIME: 3 to 4 days DIFFICULTY: Most rapids can be run, but whitewater paddling and river tripping experience is mandatory—check water levels before heading out. PORTAGES: 15 LONGEST PORTAGE: 3,400 metres (but unnecessary because the rapid is easily negotiated)

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