Moisie river

The Moisie river drops about 1700 feet in about 370 kilometers ? a respectable average of just under 5 feet per kilometer. There are some falls, a lot of deep canyons, and hopefully virtually no contact with civilization for three weeks or more.

In their book, The Complete Wilderness Paddler, James West Davidson and John Rugge describe their trip down the Moisie some thirty years ago. They made the trip in 21 days portaging 32 rapids and lining another eight.

Youngsters each have their own way of growing up. For some, the transition through adolescence into adulthood is placid, uneventful, imperceptible. Others tear into this middle period more uproariously before slowing down to settle the primary direction of their lives. Of the remainder, there are a few delinquents who turn savage as if overnight. Their development contains no subtlety; and the mayhem they wreak warns all bystanders of the violent turbulence within. The Moisie, we love her, but she has a delinquent heart.

And she has grown in her first forty miles: through some little lakes and one large one, enlarged by feeder streams and invisible seeping springs, swollen now by the ice melting on the upper lakes. We know we’ve missed the rivers crest (water’s down six feet on some bushes) but judging by the roots it has another six to drop. The rapids we’re on begin innocently enough. The slope is gentle and dotted with roundheads, only here and there pockmarked by a few jagged boulders. But around the first bend, the river’s murmur takes on an edge of excitement. Rug (John Rugge) stands for a longer view and then sits abruptly in deference to an approaching rock. Without need of spoken command, his boat starts to prefer the left boundary of upcoming boulders;; soon it is out of the mid river channel and cruising within hailing distance of the east bank. Joe’s boat follows as if on a string. The middle now is chopped up into standing waves of respectable stature but the roundheads are stout and keep the tall waves busy with conversation. This would make a sporting run in unloaded boats and somewhere close to a farmhouse stove, but here our wilderness trucks are glad to take safe convoy in the moderate swells along the river’s edge.

The inside of the next turn hugs a large, sharp bluff comprised of crumbling red rock. Rug’s eyes are on the river as the lead canoe points around the bend, but a blind man could do as well. Once past that baffle of soft rock, the river speaks in thunderclaps. Again without a word, Rug back-paddles, and two strokes behind, Peach pries the stern into the bank. The second canoe catches the vine of an alder ten feet upriver. From our vantage, we can see that the brush-cut surface of the bluff wraps around to form a small plateau through which the river cuts deeply.

And now, for the first time, we begin to understand the import of the Mayor’s (Mayor of Sept Illes) unsolicited and unwanted advice. It appears that at low water, a passable rock shelf exists between cliff wall and river current. For us, in late June during the winter’s runoff, rushing water and solid ground meet at perpendicular angles. We had expected rapids here from the step-up in gradient on the topos, but how in Lordís name had we overlooked the three contour lines that squeeze together at the river? Rug turns to Peach and says, "Looks like we get a chance to scout these chutes from a hundred and fifty feet up."

The Complete Wilderness Paddler

pp.145-46

From Toronto to Sept Illes is a fifteen to twenty hour drive. Leave

early one morning and camp somewhere in quebec on the St. Lawrence and

you could make it to Sept Illes on the second day. You can even do it

at one go, but I think you wonít have gear ready to put on the

morning run of the Quebec and Labrador North Shore Railway on the

second day out. I suggest two road days before catching the train from

Sept Illes to Oreway on Ashuanipi Lake (partly in Labrador partly in Quebec). (Oreway is a rail stop that had two permanent residents when Rug and Peach made their trip.)

Rough Estimate of Cost for a five man trip. Not sure why, but here I am proposing hypothetically a trip for two tandem boats and one solo. Basing groceries on 25 days at $15.00 per person per day.

Topo maps and copies: $220.00

Groceries: $1575.00

Gas for two vehicles: $360.00

Camp two nights. $80.00

Motel two nights: $550.00

Train and freight: $640.00

Food on the road More or less: $70.00

And

the Time 25 to 29 days

Plus three boats, two or three tents, first aid supplies, repair kits and basic and personal gear. Need to be outfitted for fairly cold conditions. For instance, a late June start could require dragging canoes on the ice of Lake Ashuanipi to get to the top of the Moisie. This trip can be made in September ? I gather the flow is still good then, but there seem to be a number of fly in trips that do the bottom half later in the season. ( $1750.00 American for a 10 day fly in, guided, and supplied trip)

These are the basics. It is heartening to find that, even though thirty years has past since Rug and Peach did the Moisie, when you ask someone in Sept Illes on the phone about canoeing the Moisie they think you mean to fish with a motorized canoe on the last mile.