Day 32, Tuesday, Sept 20, Lake Bukemiga, at last! Oops.
8:00 p.m., Tuesday
I had hoped to get an earlier start today than 11:00 because The world famous Lake Bukemiga was about 220 miles away, 24 miles from the camp, another 26 down route 11, another 157 directly route up route 527 to check out that output first, and then I figured another 16 miles back down 527 to Bukemiga. But I decided to watch the complete show of the sunrise just to the right of my camp, and the delay was more than worth it. How many times do we get the chance to watch a glorious sunset, and then 12 hours later, watch the sun's return in full splendor. Today was one of those days.
The trip up 527 was as magnificent as any on this trip, but for different reasons. The forest surrounding me on all sides on this empty two-lane highway was already in full fall fashion show of color. Tomorrow I hope to take some photos on my return as I wanted to bu sure to settle in at Bukemiga before nightfall, which is just. Happening now as I write this at 8:18 in my small tent, with my two loyal companions settled in for the night, a roaring fire burning outside the tent, and you can guess what plaing n my iPad (RPC2).
Before I go any further with this posting, I have a confession to make. Lake Bukemiga exists, for sure, but it is not world famous. Heck, the long-time locals working at the next gas stop down the road, 183 miles distant, never even heard of it. There is no casino here; the only bets people make here on on their lives against the bears, wolves and weather. Streisand never sang People here in any coliseum, not because there is no coliseum, though there is not, but because there are no people here. The only Newton the played here were the fig kind. The only evidence of lady gaga is the moose nuggets. Anna Bolena is most certainly not the opera here this week because there is no opera house. Besides, why does anyone have to worry about losing his or her head when you'd have to be out of your mind anyway to come here. No, Lake Bukemiga is nothing more than a place I saw and the map at the end of the road, looked it up on Google Earth and saw that there was some kind of an access road to it and no sign of civilization or cabins and chose that as my final destination on this trip before heading home. And so, that's where I am now, sitting in my tent, the dogs sound asleep next to me, the rain just starting to come down, typing away with two fingers, hoping the 46 percent battery remaining holds out for me to finish this.
Lake Bukemiga was, in a large sense, a metaphor for the way we all make decisions, about important items as well as the trivial ones. But more important, it was about setting a goal and meeting it, or what we can of it, come hail or high water. And beyond that, it was about the journey, in this case, of a man with his dogs. More on this in the epilogue.
Having introduced you now to Bukemiga and its meaning, just hours after I met it for the first time myself, let me tell you about how I spent my first few hours here so you can share in the adventure, or whatever this is.
As I drove up 527, I saw signs for all the other lakes in the region on the side of the road, but I got to Armstrong, the end of the road, without seeing any for Bukemiga. In June, when I called some small outfitter in Armstrong, the woman I spoke with told me just to turn left at some road that I thought started with a P. Simple enough, I thought. But I saw no streets starting with a P. In fact, there were no streets, just a bunch of narrow, unmarked dirt roads for the most part. I lost an hour on the way up driving down some of them and then having to spend time turning around on those narrow paths when I realized they could not be the road to Bekemiga
As soon as I pulled into Armstrong, a town of about 100 people, I decided that if I could not find Bekemiga soon, I would head back to SGPP while it was still daylight. You do not want to be driving on 527 at night with 7 foot tall moose around, and the signs all over remind you of that. As luck would have it, a local pulled up beside me and explained how to get to Bekemiga. Go down 52) 21 km, turn left at Bunga road, and before you get to the bridge at the foot of the hill, take the right turn and you'll be there in 10 minutes. But it's a rough road, he warned.
Well, I drove the 21 km and came across not Bunga road, but Obanga Road. This has to be it, I said. I turned right drove perhaps a mile down the dirt road and came to the bridge down the hill, but I saw no road that would lead to Bukemiga. I getting the hell out of here, I said, as I turned the Defender around and started heading back to SGPP, satisfied that I met my goal substantially. But then on the way back up the hill, I saw what would not pass for a road by anyone's definition, but a trail that some vehicles had gone down, so I decided to chance that. As I drove this path, it was so narrow that the trees and brushes were swiping the Defender on both sides and the top. At one point, I had to navigate over a fallen tree. After 10 minutes of this, I came to a dirt road so full and potholes and huge puddles that it made the worst if the Trans-Labrador Highway look like the Autobahn. Then, much to my delight and relief, there it was, Lake Bukemiga. I had made it, at last.
I will let the photos and videos I took tell the story about this setting when I have the chance to post them (maybe I'll add one to this posting if I can). I will say this, though. Although there is plenty of evidence here that others use this as their private getaway, it really is quite a splendid setting, a beach, the calm, peaceful lake, the hills surrounding it. And if I wanted to be alone here, I found the place. There is no one around for 26 miles to the north and 131 miles to the south. Thinking that I may have bitten off more than I can chew with this place and its isolation, instead of getting the hell out of here right away, I decided to get on my rented satellite phone and call my friend, Mike Lotus, who worries about things like this for a living, and ask him if he does not hear from me by noon tomorrow, to have the RCMP come in looking for me. Inam more concerned about he ogs han i am myself. And that's when the fun began. Any confidence of safety with that phone that I had prior to this was lost in the next ten minutes.
Three times before, I had rented a phone from the outfit, so I had confidence in them. When. Received this phone the day before I left, I noticed that the wire on the recharging unit was mended with electrical tape and splitting in other places. Instead of sending it back, I plugged it in to recharge the phone and the green recharging light came in, so I assumed it was recharging. When the green light went off later, I assumed it was fully recharged, so I put everything away and went on with my business of leaving. Then, in Labrador, when I needed the phone the most, I went to recharge it again, but discovered that one of the hooks that connects the recharging unit to the phone had broken off. No problem, I said, I'll just tape the two together, and sure enough, I did and the green light came on. When I noticed the light was off later, I put everything away confident I had a charged phone. I never tested the phone because I trusted that I was sent functioning equipment and I knew how to use the phone.
Which brings us to tonight. When I went to turn the phone on, the screen said the battery was low. That's odd, I thought, I just recharged it again a few days ago, or so I thought. As it turns out, the green light going off all along did not mean that phone was recharged, but that it was not recharging. When I squeezed the frayed wires in the center of the recharger, the green light would go on, but only for a few seconds at a time, not long to make a call or to recharge the battery. After 15 minutes of trying this about as many times, th green light never came on again. As I did not want to short circuit my electrical system in my car, I gave up and decided to take the risk of not having the phone, hoping that if I do not emerge from Bekemiga, someone would have read my blog and know where to send the RCMP to look for me. (if you are reading this posting, don't worry, made it out of here ok. The bottom line is that I paid almost $500 for a false sense of security, except that tonight I have no sense of security.
Not wanting this to spoil the last night of this trip before heading home, I set out on the evening's chores. The first chore was to create a huge bonfire to alert mischievous animals that people were here. Then I set up the small , recently mended tent, hoping the mend would hold, and it did. Then dinner for the dogs, and then for myself. All chores completed by 7:30, I had plenty of time to enjoy the peace, quiet and beauty of this place, along with my dogs, a small frog that curiously came to visit us, a loon giving us that same plaintive cry the one in Labrador gave us, a few geese who got left behind, and a flock of ptarmigan, who seemed not a bit fearful of the three of us. My hope is that in this land of bears and wolves, that's all we see.
In the event of something not to my liking happening tonight, the Defender is parked right next to us and ready to go on a moment's notice. I will be confident and assume for the best. But I am making as much noise as I cam, and sleeping with my dogs, as well as my pepper spray, hunting knife, whistle (the one I used in Kamchatka to ward off a bear attack in 1997), and flares from my car.
it's now 4:30. a.m., wednesday.
I have gotten very little sleep all night. The reason is that it has been raining hard since 8:00 and I am concerned about getting out of her tomorrow. I have no idea what condition I will find that road in when leave. It was already in terrible condition when I came in. And that path of trees I have to drive through? Who knows what I will find there. I am confident he Defender can get through a lot, it it starts that is. I just ot up to make sure water wasn't getting into the gas tank, as happened before. Of course, I can walk to the main road, a mile away, but Leben cannot, and I cannot leav him here.. And who knows when someone will come along. And what tow truck company will wan to come bto this hidden labyrinth?
I also got up because the tent is leaking and everything is getting wet, even my winter sleeping bag.
But these things are not what's worrying me. What concerns me is how I am going to drive 259 miles tomorrow on virtually no sleep. I do not do well behind the wheel with little sleep. Even though I have to be back at the camp at noon, I decided to take an Ambien now (they give me four hours of restful sleep) and risk being late. I did not take one earlier tonight because I wanted to be alert if something happened in this desolate, wet place.
Little of this is what I was hoping on my last night onthisvtip before heading home, which I have to do soon because skin problem is flaring up again and he is scratching himself al day, exacerbating the problem.
I will now try to get some sleep with help from St Ambien and Dvorak, his string serenade E major opus 22, which, withb the rain, I hope will help lull me to sleep. The music might also help keep the bears away. In the, meantime, I morning inwill deal these other problems one by one until they are all solved and I am back at SGPP with m dogs.
8:00 a.m. Wednesday
The rain kept up ball night but stopped sometime in the last or so, but there is a very slight drizzle now. My clothes from the tent are somewhat wet, but I can live with that. The Defender woke up this morning as soon as I turned it on, perhaps because I played reveille from my iPad first. Good Defender. The temperature dropped precipitously during the night and it is now about 35 outside. By the way, the temperature in the tent with one person is about 10 degrees warmer, a little more with one dog, and a little more than that with two. I should have rented a third dog, but there's no room left in my small tent. Time to make breakfast for the dogs and myself, and then get the hell out of here, or try. The dogs, in the meantime, are, as usual, enjoying themselves in this paradise.
9:45...all packed and loaded and ready to go. Now let's see if we can find our way out of this maze of dirt roads, pools of water, and narrow forest paths and head back to our palace at SGPP. If you are reading this posting, it means we did.
4:00 p.m, Wednesday
Well, we said our goodbyes to Bukemiga and made it out of that maze to get in and out of there. Despite the adverse conditions, it really was the best night of the trip, and now we're ready to head home. I am now back in Thunder Bay, restocked for the trip home, and ready to head back to one more night at the magnificent SGPP, where I will plot my course home. I may head back by way of Michigan, and then to NY where I may try to spend my final night of the trip at the Farm Sanctuary.
Ed, from Thunder Bay, Ontario, the end of the road for Part 1 of this trip.
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