La Cloche - Day 2

June 10, 2022 - Threenarrows Lake

We awoke to a beautiful morning, packed up camp and hit the trail. After a short walk we crossed a stream, followed a portage and ended up looking out onto a fjord of Georgian Bay, surrounded by private property. There was a broken dock here which was not posted so we took a break on that before continuing upwards over the portage known as "The Pig". This climbed through a low pass and got the heart pumping. Simon seemed to be struggling to get up this with his heavy pack, but made it in good spirits.

A pretty pond

Splish-splashing across the creek

Paul and Mike, always studing the map. Mel thinking "all we have to do is follow the blue blazes you bozos!".

Portage past a well adorned cabin

Climbing the pig

Next we arrived at a dam on Kirk Creek which is narrow and easily hopped over. The trail however detours for a couple kilometers west to a bridge and then returns along the other side. Some debate was had of hopping the creek for a short cut, or walking the trail around. Paul D crossed the creek to check out a monument on the other side and then came back, reporting that it was a clear route. In the end we decided that we might as well take the trail, since we came here to hike the whole La Cloche, and shortcuts would be cheating. An hour or so walk around finally had us on the other side where we took a lunch break looking at the dam from a different viewpoint.

Dam with no bridge

The bridge two kilometers further

Lunch back at the dam on the other side

All that remained now was a long flat walk through the woods to our intended campsite at an unnamed lake at the north-western corner of the hiking trail. Disaster struck here. Qudoos, Melanie, and I were hiking a little faster and a fair bit ahead of the other three. At one point Qudoos suggested that we wait up for the others, but I suggested that the trail was easy to follow, and we should just push on to the lake a few hundred meters ahead and wait there with a view. A few seconds later we heard what we thought was a scream. We all paused, wondering if we had just imagined it. Then we heard a faint yell. I blew a double wistle blast (come to me). More faint yelling. I responded with a single wistle blast (stop, wait there), and we started backtracking on the trail. More yelling getting louder as we came closer. I started getting worried so started jogging along for what seemed to be a very long time. Paul D appeared and informed me that Simon had fallen and broken his leg. There still seemed to be a long way to go to the scene and a lot of scenarios played through my head during this time. Finally I arrived on scene finding Simon laying on the ground and screaming in pain. Qudoos and Melanie were right behind me. Wilderness first-aid training took over.

Paul had already cut away the pant leg around the injury site. There was nothing visible other than some minor swelling, but the victim indicated excruciting pain with any movement or even faint touch of the skin in this area. We first attempted to gently remove the boot (too painful) then talked about cutting it off. Finally after ascertaining that Simon could move his toes and we could monitor them with the boot in place we decided to leave it and incorporate the boot in a splint. Using a section of hiking pole, some closed cell foam, and a full roll of horse tape we had an improvised splint providing some stabilizing of the lower leg.

Meanwhile, Melanie, Qudoos, and perhaps one or two Pauls were dealing with communication. Fortunately we seemed to have faint cell signal in this location as Simon conveniently picked the top of a small hill to fall off of. They got through to 911 as Qudoos triggered a sattelite messanger device. By text and limited voice we had some communication with the outside world and at some point we got a message that help would be arriving by air. I assumed this would be a float plane with a park ranger to a the lake about 600m north of our position. Boy was I wrong in this assumption.

As we waited, a dark cloud rolled overhead. Rain could seriously complicate things. I rigged a tarp over the accident scene to shield the victim. Fortunately the cloud passed and the warm sun came out again. The tarp was not rigged in vain though, as it now provided valuable shade for both Simon and his rescuers. Eventually we heard a noise, not a float plane but a helicopter! Not a small helicopter either, but the Ornge ambulance. It flew past many times and we tried to signal using a bright tarp and sleeping pad. Then it went away down towards the lake and we thought it had landed. A long time passed with the engine roar being heard down by the lake. Why is the pilot not shutting the engines down? The chopper then took off and flew overhead and went away. Huh? A little while later it returned and began passing in what seemed to be a search pattern again. This time we shot off a couple of flares. The chopper kept circling but at no point did the pilot acknowledge that we had been seen. Eventually we got a text message stating that "We know where you are", which we took to mean "Stop shooting flares at us!". More noise as the helicopter went off somewhere to the south.

Scene management

More noise, another helicopter! This time it was the OPP. I went out into a small clearing with the tarp and this time the bird hovered directly overhead as I stretched both hands to the sky. The pilot dipped a wing and then flew off. Ok, that was a little more re-assuring. Things quieted down. We waited.

We had run out of water and still no sign of any rescuers. Qudoos and I decided that a quick hike down to the lake to fetch water for the group was in order. We returned about fifteen minutes later with five liters in tow but still no sign of help. We all quenched our thirst, and then the first two rescuers showed up on scene.

Two paramedics got to work, assesing the victim, and pumping him with pain killers so that we could move him onto a folding litter they had brought. I got a bit of smug satisfaction when they declared the improvised splinting good to stay in place, however they added another SAM splint to the other side of the leg prior to moving him onto the litter. During this, two police officers came up the trail from the other direction. They had been dropped off in the a shallow section of the lake and waded to shore prior to hiking up to our location.

Rock on!

The Ornge helicopter had managed to land in a swamp about 500m south of our location. We just now had to get Simon there, which was not a problem as we now had five fit hikers, two burly police officers, and two paramedics on scene. Paul W, Qudoos, one of the paramedics, the cops, and myself took to the carry. The other paramedic directed traffic and cleared the trail, while Paul D carried Simon's pack, and Melanie photographed the evidence. In a short while we had arrived at the swamp, now needing to bushwhack for 150m to reach the bird. Fortunately the co-pilot had been busy scouting a route and clearing some of the fallen brush while waiting, so we followed his direction for the best route through this mess. There were still a few obstacles to climb over, which seemed to snag the bottom of the litter at inopportune moments, but in a short time we finally got to the chopper and set about loading Simon inside. The cops got a call that there was a canoe party in distress on another lake, so their helicopter swooped in and whisked one of them off to assist on that scene. Fortunately the Ornge pilot agreed to fly Simon's pack out (minus explosives and flammables) and we squeezed it in the back hatch. This saved our trip, as without this service we would have been spending the next two days portaging gear out of the woods.

The carry

Manouvering through the swamp

Big bird in a swamp

Simon loaded, the pilot warmed up the engines. The helicopter had sunk in the muck down to its belly, and the moment of truth was upon us... can this huge thing actually lift out? Watching the massive helicopter emerge from the swamp was a bit like the Dagobah swamp scene from the original Star Wars. I assisted with a bit of the Force, and after a long time spinning the rotor, the bird finally lifted free, muck and weeds dangling from the tires. It slowly turned and then with a final roar, it flew off over the horizon. Silence again.

Liftoff out of Dagobah

The whole ordeal took 5 hours. We hiked back to our packs at the accident site, sat down for a bit of food and talked about what to do. The consensus was to continue and try to make our planned camp about 10 km further by nightfall. We got half way there. An empty campsite and the lure of supper and a swim in daylight won out over setting up camp later in the dark. Tomorrow will be a long day to make up the time.

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