Return to Peel Journal - Day 4

Temperature about 16c. Clear skies.

Our path north on day 4. The last stretch of the McKenzie moutains before we drop to the Arctic plains.

We’re at almost 65 degrees latitude north. One degree more until we reach the Arctic circle! We’re about ten kilometers north of the Bear River.

The valley widens out here as the mountains begin to give way to the Arctic plains below. There is snow still visible in the stream beds high in the mountain peaks.

This morning, Graham and I hiked across a wide moss-covered flood-plain; up a mountain side, to just above the tree line. It was a fairly easy walk and climb, with plenty of solid footing and clear mountain streams to refresh us en route. The views from above the tree line are just stunning.

Graham taking in the views from our hike up the mountainside. Looking south down the Wind River.

Our paddle today was much faster than the meandering course the day before. The river north of Bear River is straight and fast. We hit plenty of Class 2 rapids with roller coaster waves and enough boulders to keep us focused.

Graham had a blast, flying up and over the waves in his kayak. Terry and I mostly skirted the big rapids. There are few things as irritating as dumping a canoe loaded with 400 pounds of gear!

Wildlife has mostly been ducks, snipes, songbirds and yes, one seagull. Even here.

Bigger animals are more elusive. No grizzlies yet and no moose, but we’ve seen plenty of tracks. There is also the possibility of woodland Caribou sightings ahead.

“The Wind River is so called by the Indians of that region because of the furious gales that are constantly blowing down it’s valley.” That’s from Charles Camsell’s 1905 Survey report.

We’ve had a couple of gales. Thankfully one was last night while we were snug in our tents.

The wind is constant though and a blessing. It keeps the mosquitoes at bay. Step away from river bank into the shelter of the spruce forest and you are swarmed. At night, above the roar of the river, you can hear the hum of mosquitoes. It sounds like the eerie whine of the monolith in the film “2001: A Space Oddyssey. It’s primordial. I try not to focus on it.

Camsell’s 1905 survey notes: “The valley occupied by the Wind River flows in a broad, shallow bed sometimes half a mile wide. It’s water is beautifully clear and blue.”

And that it is.

Wind River at Royal Creek. Royal Mountain in background.

Even at its deepest point, 6 feet or more, you can see right to the bottom. We drink it unfiltered.

While Camsell observed “in several expansions of the river bed large sheets of ice were still remaining at the beginning of July,” the only ice we’ve seen is up high in the peaks.

Terry paddling as we approach Royal Creek. The edge of the mountain range. The next day we drop into the foothills.