Hazen decided to put together and lead a Level Two club camping trip. So after some planning, six of us headed down the highway to meet at the Irving Station in Clarenville. From there we drove about another half-hour to the put-in at Burgoynes Cove in Smith Sound.
We unloaded the kayaks and packed in the gear...
Julie, Hazen, Ron, and I drove up to Trinity in the four cars and left three of them in a parking lot beside the take-out location, and then drove back in one of the cars to the beach where Tony and Barb had stayed to keep an eye on the kayaks. It was such a nice day to lounge around the beach and I had tried to get Tony or Barb to drive my car to the take-out for me, but there were no takers on that one...
After a round trip of about two and a half hours, and another half hour or so we were finally on the water and on our way to our first camping spot.
|Julie and Hazen|
|Looking out Hickman Harbour|
We paddled as far as we could and then had to get out of our kayaks and pull them a short distance where it was too shallow to paddle.
|Barb walking her kayak|
Once on the pond we paddled just a few hundred feet to the campsite where we went about putting up the tents and having a late supper.
|Old Wobbly (Hazen)|
|My new Tarptent|
|Supper time at First Pond|
We collected up some beaver wood and had a very nice little campfire and a few drinks...
Hazen had pulled his back at the put-in. He paddled the seventeen kilometres to the campsite without too much trouble but was pretty sore and stiff by the time we got to the campsite. We pitched in to set up his camp so he could take it as easy as possible. Julie and Barb kept him in pain relief medication, heat packs, and ice packs.
|Barb tying Old Sore Back Wobbly's shoe for him....|
After a few drinks around the fire poor ol' Hazen crawled into his tent with his ice pack...
I crawled into my tent and lay down. My mind was active with thoughts of how we would contend with Hazen and his sore back in the morning. He was in pretty hard shape by the time he crawled into his tent and I just couldn't see how how was going to paddle the next day. I was envisioning the five of us taking turns towing poor Old Wobbly back to Burgoynes Cove the next day, or possibly raising the Coast Guard on the VHF radio to send in a boat to take him out for us....