Quetico is located west of Lake Superior and encompasses 4700 square kilometres of wilderness. There are no roads inside the park and no motorized boats. Only canoes.
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The access points into the park are few and far between - a total of six. The main access point is called Dawson Trail, 40 km east of Atikokan. This is where we started our 6-day adventure!
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Quetico is so far away that it is in a different watershed! All of the rivers and lakes flow north, into Hudsons Bay.
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My loyal Toyota Echo with our canoe strapped to the roof. We're at the trail head which leads to French Lake - the starting point of our adventure!
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Paddling through the small French Lake, we made our way to Pickerel Lake via a reed river. Here is a breath-taking view of Pickerel Lake. By far the largest lake of our trip.
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Our first campsite was on an island in the middle of Pickerel Lake. We had a beautiful sunset that evening. Later we listened to wolves howling in the distance.
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Our first portage started at the Pickerel Lake Dam. The portage avoided a series of rapids downstream from the dam.
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Our second portage was into Beg Lake. Here's my boyfriend, Graham, on the trail to Beg Lake.
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Here I am, standing at the mouth of Beg Lake. Notice the stylish blue drybag!
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On our way to the next portage, we paddled through some areas that had recently been ravaged by a forest fire.
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At bud lake we camped at the top of a spectacular 10-ft waterfall. Undoubtably the favourite campsite of the trip!
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The waterfall, just below our campsite on the cliff.
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The rapids downstream of our campsite, at the base of the falls.
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Graham sitting on the edge of the small ravine which separated our campsite from the portage. You could cross over the water by walking over two logs suspended over the ravine.
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Further down from the ravine, the water flow turned into a babbling stream. Pictueresque, isn't it?
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Sunrise on Bud Lake.
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Just Fishing - on Sturgeon Lake.
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A beaver lodge on the Twin Lakes.
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Entering Dore Lake.
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The portage from Dore Lake. Isn't that a stream?
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Me trying to tie the canoe up to a fallen log. Further downstream are rapids.
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The entrance to our final portage back onto Pickerel Lake.
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Our return to Pickerel Lake.
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Our home away from home. The inside of our tent at the Pickerel Lake campsite.
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Our last campfire.
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Entering the reed river which would bring us back to French Lake. We saw a painted turtle.
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On the way home we drove back into our own time zone.
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