Aug.21: Virginia Falls

We were lucky enough to see several osprey today; one was sitting on a nest atop a tree, watching us. To get a better look, we pulled our canoes onto the opposite shore. The mud sucked at our sandalled feet as we took turns peering through Dave's telescope. It began raining in the afternoon just after our lunch break, and we pulled out our rain gear before continuing.

We could hear Virginia Falls long before we actually reached the Falls. Explorer Fenlay Hunter named the falls after his daughter Virginia in 1928 in spite of the fact that the Falls already had a Dene (pronounced "Deh-nay") name: Nahaa Dehe Nailicho, or "big water falling". We set up camp in the rain, a slightly more complicated process that regular setting up since you had to make a an extra effort to keep all your gear dry and mud-free (and the mud was everywhere!). We had decided to spend two nights at the Falls.

I've found that the best way to cope with long rainy days is to tweak your mental attitude. Back in "civilization", it's rarely necessary to be cold and wet for very long. Inevitably there is a building nearby to duck into, a change of clothes available within an hour or two. On this trip, however, there were days where I was cold and wet from morning through until when we set up camp in the evening. Never completely soaking wet, of course...if any of us had dumped (unbelieveably, none of our canoes dumped during the entire trip), we would have pulled ashore immediately to get wet people changed into dry clothes to prevent the onset of hypothermia. But inevitably my feet and legs would get wet from having to step out of the canoe and pull it ashore, my gloves/hands from being splashed during paddling. Unless it was a sunny day, wet cloth tended to stay wet for hours.

If I had stepped into a deep puddle in Toronto, I would have probably been immensely ticked off and sought dry footwear right away. Out on the trip, however, it wasn't that easy. Getting to your dry socks and shoes would mean taking your canoe (and thus everyone's canoes) to shore, opening up your tightly-packed drybag, rummaging about for dry things, putting them on, repacking your drybag, etc. A time-consuming process, and also pointless if it's raining since everything would get wet again anyway. We all learned to temporarily ignore minor inconveniences and focus on higher priorities, like finding shelter, building a fire, and setting up camp. I found it a good mental exercise, and one that could be useful long after the trip was over.

By this time in the trip, we were all becoming more familiar with each other's personalities and quirks. We were fortunate to have a good group that got along well. No major conflicts along the way, and everyone went out of their way to help each other. Good-natured teasing arose as we got more comfortable with each other...water fights, canoe jostling, that sort of thing. One of the major themes began when Dave threw a dead bird he had found during a hike into Karen's and Signy's canoe without warning. The resulting shrieks reverberated along the river. Signy retaliated with a frog in his tent that evening. Dave quietly got rid of the bird before it could be used for further revenge, but we each got a feather hidden somewhere in our tent that evening.

We also had adopted a mascot on the trip. Lin had brought a small rooster toy which emitted a loud "Cock a doodle doo!" three times if squeezed. Before she showed him to us, Al had Lin squeeze the rooster some distance away, and then tried to convince us that we were hearing a rare Arctic bird. I have to confess we half-believed him until Lynn 'fessed up. She kept him tied to the bow of her canoe as she paddled, a heroic little figure which buoyed our spirits in the coming days. After a formal nomination and voting process, we christened him Eddy (as in "eddy in", "eddy out"). We also discovered that we could make Eddy crow by hitting him over the head with a paddle, a fact which brought us much entertainment during the rest of the trip.

But back to Virginia Falls...

After setting up camp, we trudged off on the Virginia Falls hike to view the falls. In spite of the misty rain, the scenery was spectacular. Virginia Falls is North America's largest remaining wilderness waterfall, and plunges twice the height of Niagara Falls, or 318 feet. A rainbow stretching across the base of the Falls completed the postcard setting. Dividing the falls is a large rock known as "Mason's Rock", named after Bill Mason, a well-known canoeist, author, artist, and filmmaker.

The hike also gave us a chance to glimpse the beginning of the faster-moving water we would be starting in a few days. Some of us (picture my hand waving feebly here) were nervous about the upcoming whitewater, and just glimpsing the start of the rapids tied my stomach into a knot. I wished desperately that I had made more of an attempt to get some (ANY!) whitewater experience before attempting this trip.

I tried to put the fear out of my mind; enough time to worry about that in a couple of days. For now, I was going to concentrate on enjoying our two-night stay at Virginia Falls, and looked forward to the hike up Sunblood Mountain the next day.