What a glorious week of paddling the vast beauty of the Winnipeg River. This river is a paddler's dream --strong enough current to keep you moving without much effort and sloping rock for camping galore. We soaked up the sweet sweet sun and laughed the days away. Seriously spoiled. What a breeze. How generous and kind Mother Nature can be.
But then one day Mama Nature got REAL cranky. We relished in the thought of our last week paddling being this idillic heavenly wrap-up fit for a concluding montage of a teen drama film about finding yourself or falling in love (complete with some soft rock song in the background).
"Well this is boring" we basically hear Mother Nature sigh and change the channel...
Friday night one of the biggest storms we have ever experienced on trail started. And continued all night. And continued all the next morning. And continued for three days straight.
Our trusty Ol' iPhone Weather Channel App blinked furiously, warning of a 'SEVERE RAINFALL' for the Manitoba-Ontario border. A low level risk for most people in that area snuggled away in their cabins, just outside the area. But Mother Nature's recipe for disaster for who? Essentially only us.
Our serendipitous scene changed quickly to sounds and images one could imagine if they've seen an episode of 'Storm Chasers'. We couldn't even get "one Mississippi" in between lightning and thunder as the ground beneath us trembled with a connection which could not have been more than 400m away. That Friday night we considered becoming 'YouTube Famous' by grabbing the camera and filming the non-stop sheet AND fork lightning raging throughout the sky and visible from from where we lay, tense in our tent. Intense. But frankly, the thought of holding something metal and electronic in our hands terrified us.
We did a poor acting job comforting each other for a while, with lines such as "just try and sleep, we will wake up and all will be well". We dropped that gig when we woke the next morning to all being definitely NOT well; the storming continued that day and night and next day and next night. We did have a few hours of 'reprieve' each day, when the lightning let up and we paddled in the comfort of solely wind and rain.
"Mmmmuuhahahahahaha" we heard Mother Nature laugh through the howling winds. "Thought you were home free didn't ya?!"
By the third day of this obscene weekend we were so frozen and soaked that we retired to the tent by 2 pm and stayed as prisoners there until the next morning. During this time we both experienced somewhat of an enlightened moment, an introspective experience through literature...I was reading 'Not a Wanted on the Voyage' ( a comedic parody of the story of Noah's Ark). The characters were in the midst of the horrors of The Great Flood. My severe rainfall weekend paled in comparison. As for Paul, WINTER WAS COMING in Game of Thrones -- we surely could handle an August storm. We slept with a new perspective and positive outlook.
Yet when we rose, all this was erased. Stormy again. We battled some of the most outrageous winds we've ever experienced on Crowduck Lake -- frozen and soaked again. Would we EVER be warm again?
Words cannot explain the joy and relief we felt when, upon completion of our last portage of the trip(!), we entered Big Whiteshell, where the ominous darkness fell and sunshine and happiness was unveiled!!!!!!!
And now we rest our weary heads, with the comforting feeling that we will have only sunshine and warmth for the rest of the trip. Right Mother Nature?