Читать книгу Nominigan and Other Smoke Lake Jewels - Gaye Clemson - Страница 4

Hope’s Point on Smoke Lake Hunt Collection

As Mary Northway described in her 1970 narrative Nominigan, The Early Years, Smoke Lake is ’part of the headwaters of the routes that made navigation possible across Ontario. To the west those routes follow the Oxtongue River to Lake of Bays, from which there is a choice between two major passages: either through Muskoka to the Severn River or into Haliburton and the Valley of the Trent River to Lake Ontario. Traveling east through a chain of three small lakes (Kootchie, Island and Cache) or south via Ragged and Porcupine Lakes one eventually reaches the Madawaska which can then be followed to the Ottawa River and from there to the St. Lawrence River.’

Many of these waterways, were originally Ontario’s main thoroughfares. Though the routes of the Voyageurs were far to the north, including the Mattawa and French Rivers to Lake Nipissing, it is likely safe to suppose that native peoples did at one point or another make their way through this area. The Jesuits alledgedly ventured from the Mattawa River through Amable du Fond to the Park and had reached Manitou Lake in 1615. In a few locations in the Park there is evidence of their visits, but most stories attributed to them are not based on any found archeological evidence in the area. Having said that, though it has never been verified as authentic, the first visitors through Smoke Lake area might have passed through in 1667. Brought to the attention of Park officials in 1977 by Dr. C. A. Hubay, a Smoke Lake resident, was an enscription carved into a rock found on the first point of land on the east shore, south of a large island in the middle of the lake. About 80 mm tall and 4-6mm deep with small patches of lichen growing in the vicinity, the inscription read M.W.K. 1667. The carving had come to light when a large white pine which had stood on the site fell over, exposing the rock.

But local folkore via Mary Northway in Nominigan - The Early Years, has it that, after the War of 1812, finding a water route from Lake Huron to the Ottawa River became a vital matter of defence. A woman by the name of Florence Murray compiled a fascinating collection of documents in her book Muskoka and Haliburton 1615 - 1875. Though the first routes were to the south of the Park, in 1825 it was the ‘Iron Duke of Wellington’ of Waterloo fame who commissioned a series of surveys. According to Mary’s research:

“Henry Briscoe, one of surveyors, left Holland Landing on the fourth of September, travelled to the Lake of Bays, up the Oxtongue to South Tea, into Smoke, then either by Hilliard or Ragged Lakes, continued on to the Madawaska River, Lake of Two Rivers and then to the Ottawa River.”

According to his notes, the land they passed over was deemed to be generally bad, particularly on the borders of lakes and rivers. As to why this was so is not clear, but it seems that the Duke had no comprehension of the difficulties in navigating the Ontario bush as upon receiving said survey reports, he seems not to have been pleased with the results. He is said to have confessed to having read them with pain:

”They afford a fresh proof of the inaccuracy with which all of the military business of this country (Canada) is done. Here are certain Officers in time of peace, ordered to make specific reconnoissances. They do not arrange matters so as to procure to a certainity the provisions necessary to enable them to perform their duty, nor do they, where guides are requisite, take measures for providing such guides as are capable of conducting each Officer on the road he is to go. The consequence is that they go wandering all over the country they don’t know where, and report upon anything excepting what they were sent to examine and report upon.”

Later, in 1837, David Thompson, the great Canadian explorer and mapper passed through and was the first to make a detailed map of the tri-lake area (Tea, Smoke and Canoe Lakes). Mid century came Alexander Murray, a provincial geologist, who in 1853 with six men and three canoes, spent the summer determing the ‘nature of the land between lake Huron and the Ottawa River’ and gave Canoe Lake its name.

But the first official reference to Smoke Lake took place in 1880. According to the official Algonquin Park Names of Algonquin – Stories Behind the Lake and Place Names of Algonquin Provincial Park, the name Smoke Lake was first found on a survey of the area (Peck Township) that had been conducted by James Dickson. It was so named supposedly as a result of an adventure on the lake where smoke played a major role. Dickson’s book Camping in the Muskoka Region, published in 1886, tells the story of his surveying group, who were traveling through the area. They had been wind-bound (a common weather occurance as many a visitor will vouch for) all of one day on the big island in the middle of the lake (Molly’s Island). The rest of their party who were waiting on the mainland (likely near where the Smoke Lake Landing is today), knew they were safe because ‘the smoke of the fire on the island betrayed their presence. Supper (of venison steak, lake trout, new-made bread, washed down by deep draughts of tea) was ready for the wind-bound crew when they were finally able to cross from the island’. The name Smoke Lake later appeared on their official map.

Today the main entry point is the Smoke Lake Landing and on any given day, all summer long it is a very busy place. Local residents, who number about 80 families can be found ferrying supplies and visitors back and forth or checking the nearby notice board to investigate community comings and goings. In addition, usually coming from the north along the short portage from Canoe Lake, visiting canoeists of all shapes and sizes venture forth or pass through. Canoe Lake is full of Algonquin Park history with many books written about it including the author’s own Algonquin Voices – Selected Stories of Canoe Lake Women, The Ghosts of Canoe Lake - A Paddler’s Guide to Its Long Lost Landmarks and Algonquin Park’s Portage Store – The History of a Canoe Lake Institution. It is famous in the area because it is the home of the Tom Thomson Totem Pole and Cairn and allegedly his remains are resting in the local cemetery (near what was once a bustling logging community called Mowat in the late 1890s). For more details on Tom Thomson and the mystery associated with his death, check out Roy MacGregor’s recently published book called Northern Light.

From the south, entry to the lake is overland from Ragged Lake, one of the finest fishing spots for bass. It’s a steep climb up a hillside of fallen rocks. For many years, the Park boundary ran about 50 yards from the southern end of the lake, which meant that technically Ragged Lake was located outside of the park and therefore open for hunting. It was not uncommon for some locals at the turn of the century to maintain a hunting cabin in the area for spring and fall deer hunting expeditions (though by the 1940s the Ontario Government introduced a policy restricting all hunting cabins to be at least two miles from the Park boundary). In fact, Adele Statten, known as Couchie, who directed Camp Wapomeo for many years, recalled going on such an adventure when she was a young girl with her father Taylor Statten. In an interview with Don Standfield for his book Algonquin: The Park and its People she shared:

“Often, in the fall our family would paddle to Crown Lake or to Ragged Lake to catch strings of trout and would stay overnight in an old lumber cabin that was along the way. It was often so cold that our hands would freeze in our mittens and we would return with them completely covered in ice. One year, when I was about 19 years old, I was invited along with neighbours Bill Hayhurst and Mary Northway on a deer hunting trip with my father and a guide named Ed Ryan. The plan was to run the deer through a portage, where Mary and I were to shoot them as they passed by. It was cold that day and after awhile we got tired of waiting and were playing leapfrog to keep warm. Suddenly we heard the howls of the hounds and realized that our guns were way down the portage. We never got to them in time, but did see the deer come bounding down the portage. We of course lost our reputations as hunters and were never invited back again with the men. However I wasn’t all that interested in shooting deer so was never bothered much that I didn’t get asked back.”

There is no easy waterway access from the east, with arrival only possible through a series of lakes and portages that eventually connects one to the Madawaska River. But from the west, the hardy canoeist must make their way through Smoke Creek. For most of its existence, Smoke Creek was little more than a small stream, that connected Smoke Lake to South Tea Lake lying to the west. However in 1893, the Gilmour Lumber Company, who had logging rights in the area, built dams at Joe and South Tea Lakes, which raised the water level by a good two feet. Most of the trees along the shore line died, leaving a ghostly wasteland through which the brave canoeist or boater had to venture. In the spring, when the water was high, logs that had been stockpiled on Smoke Lake shores would be released into the lake and run down Smoke Creek. From there, alligators (flat bottomed scows with side-mounted paddle wheels and a powerful winch to haul logs on water or on land) would corral them across the end of South Tea Lake, then north up through Bonita Narrows to the saw mill that sat on the northwest shore of Canoe Lake. For more details of this adventure check out Gary Long’s chronicle of the period When Giants Fall. Where the Tea Lake Campground is now, massive log jams would occur causing the logs to pile up on the shore. Even today, travel along Smoke Creek is best navigated by canoe as by boat requires keeping an eagle eye out for sunken logs and large rocks that line the creekbed.

Other than loggers and park rangers, the first group of Smoke Lake ‘residents’ was a construction camp No. 2 that clustered originally around, what is today called Hangar Bay, because it is the home of the Ontario Park’s float plane. Camp 2 was so named because it was the second major supply depot established to house men and supplies during the construction of Highway 60 from 1933 to 1935. Later in the decade, a second cluster of private leaseholders formed at the south end of the lake founded by the Sessions clan and a few others who’d had good experiences visiting local lodges. They all took advantage of Ontario Government marketing campaigns that had been launched at that time to encourage greater use of the Park. By the end of the 1940s Smoke Lake had nearly 40 residents and during the post-war decade an additional 58 leases were granted. Many came as a result of connections to nearby childrens’ camps (mostly from Taylor Statten’s Camp Ahmek and Camp Wapomeo on Canoe Lake and Camp Tamakwa on South Tea Lake).

Parcel selection for new residents was an interesting affair and at times a source of confusion for ministry staff. In 1923, the Department had gone to great lengths to lay out parcels in areas that they felt were the most suitable for summer resorts around the lake. Alas those weren’t always the locations where leaseholders chose, which meant describing exactly where they were for the lease records became somewhat difficult. As the Ministry staff wrote at the time to the Park Superintendent concerning the request from one leaseholder Howard Whidden:

“The Surveyor General very reasonably calls attention to the fact that if the Department now disregards this survey and attempts to describe parcels in another manner, it will not only be very unsatisfactory for the applicant but also will be more or less inconsistent with the policy of the Department, which is to the effect that if parcels have been regularly surveyed on the ground the land is usually disposed of according to those descriptions.”

As the Park Superintendent went on to say in his return correspondence:

“The parcels surveyed in 1923 simply represented the opinion of the surveyor of what constitutes a summer resort parcel and while in the main include all the likely spots, there were left unsurveyed tracts that seem to appeal to the tourists. The parcel desired by Mr. Whidden is an area that was not considered by the Surveyors as suitable for a summer resort parcel and therefore had to be described from the stakes on parcels then surveyed. You will recollect that Miss Miller and Miss Jolliffe also selected a parcel that had note been considered fit by the surveyor. Tourists in many cases wish to have their places on a cliff or other height land, which often look to the surveyor to be unsuitable. The tract selected by Whiddon comes in this category and the fact that they so select such areas means that there are still left for sales what we might consider the more desirable sites and the Department will have more area available for disposal. In Whiddon’s case I would recommend he be given the area he selected as it is on a point that was not surveyed and we had to tie it into one of the surveyed parcels.”

Recollections of getting to the Park in those early years are many and varied. George Garland, who took out a lease at the south end near the Ragged Lake portage, shared with Mary Northway his first visit to Algonquin Park in 1931. The smoke was still rising from the remains of the second Mowat Lodge on Canoe Lake that had burned down that spring. He and his parents were going up to visit his brother, who was attending Camp Ahmek, and took the night sleeper train from Toronto to North Bay. The sleeping car they were in was detached from the train at Scotia Junction at 6 a.m. in the morning. The family stepped out to have breakfast at the station platform hotel, which allegedly served the worst food in Canada. The sleeping car was then attached to a mixed train and rolled into Canoe Lake station at about 10 a.m. The express train came in on Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, stayed overnight at Cache Lake and went out Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. In addition, there was a freight train Monday and Friday, so there was actually a train coming in five days a week.

Kay Graham, remembers her summers in the Park as a teenager:

“In the 1940s, we drove from Toronto to Kearney where our car was left for the summer. After a night in Kearney we caught the train to Cache Lake. The Highland Inn eventually closed but the store remained open and we could get fresh milk and bread. The rest of our supplies for two or three months (mostly canned goods and dried milk) were shipped in. My father was an avid fisherman and provided our only source of fresh protein. Occasionally visitors would bring us fresh meat and vegetables and fruit with them.”

For years, Valerie Young Argue and her first husband would take a train to the Empire Hotel in Huntsville. From there, they would either take a cab to the Smoke Lake landing or hitch a ride with the lumber company trucks that frequently went by. For the first few years the Renwick, Gray, and Harshman families all shared the site, each using it for three weeks. According to Mrs. Gray:

“We didn’t have a car, so we always had to find someone with whom to hitch a ride to Algonquin Park. We couldn’t afford two of everything (one for our house in the city and another for the cottage), so would have to bring blankets and teapot, etc. back and forth from Toronto. Initially there was no real parking lot at the landing so we would follow a path in from the highway. For years we had a canoe that we would cache in the woods. In 1940, Charlie Musclow built us a cabin but we couldn’t afford glass windows and for years we were open to the elements.” [Author’s Note: Charlie Musclow was owner of Musclow Lodge, located near the Smoke Creek Bridge and brother of Gertrude Baskerville whose life in Algonquin is told in Gertrude Baskerville - The Lady of Algonquin Park.]

Gordon Willson describes his first Smoke Lake experience in the 1940s:

“Early the next June, my mother, accompanied by my sisters, drove me to Union Station in Toronto where I was set aboard a train to join my Dad in the Park who had journeyed there some days earlier. At Scotia Junction, the plan was that I would board another train bound for Algonquin Park. I had just turned ten years of age a few weeks before. The train was composed of a steam engine, tender, baggage car and one passenger car in which I was the only passenger. The train creaked toward the Park leisurely, stopping now and then, sometimes it seemed for extended periods of time. During one particularly long stop, near sunset, at a shack beside the track, in the middle of nowhere, I walked to the head of the train to find the engineer and fireman and two others enjoying a smile and a game of cribbage. It seemed to be an enthralling game as my presence did not seem to have any effect. The train finally squeaked to a stop at Joe Lake Station sometime after midnight where Dad was waiting. Eventually we got to our canoe and paddled off into a starry black night.

Across Canoe Lake, we then threaded our way through the fallen forest of Lake Bonita and Smoke Creek and sighted down the length of Smoke Lake by the early cool light of breaking day. I do not recall the last leg of the long journey, reaching for Molly’s Island where we camped for more than a week. I built a pirate ship with driftwood, fishing line and other found things, which fitted the imagination. We launched the model with fanfare and good wishes for a fine voyage. North it sailed until it disappeared from view around Ranger’s Point – its birch bark sails seemed to billow strangely as it was carried away in the breeze stern first. On overcast or cool days, we fished on Dad’s favourite trolling ground along the shoal running north from Nominigan toward Hangar Bay. A pan-fried freshly caught trout meal seemed to be a part of food fare most days. At Park Headquarters, Dad looked into available cottage lots. We visited the Portage Store, not yet officially open for the season. On another day we visited the Smoke Lake hanger and were shown around by the Park Superintendent. Over the days, we visited many potential cottage sites, sometimes picnicking on them when the bugs were tolerable. Toward the end of our two weeks, we canoed to the northwest arm of Smoke Lake to look at lots previously not visited. Opposite the old highway, the shoreline was heavily mined with fallen trees. Captured in this log jungle was the model pirate ship we’d launched over a week before.”

At the peak in the early 1950s there were nearly 100 leaseholds, but today Smoke Lake is the summer home to about 80 families, some of whom have been coming for four generations. Arriving soon after the ice goes out in late April, many do not return to their winter haunts till well into fall. But one special lease belonged to Gar and Jessie Northway who resided on Canoe Lake from 1931 to 1960.

Pencil Sketch of James Dickson by Lorrie Szekat - Gary Long Collection

Logs Floating in Front of Tea Lake Campground 1940s - Baskerville Collection

Rock Inscription Dated 1667 APMA#3704

Area Map Glimpses of Algonquin Park Pg. 9

View of Camp 2 From the Water APMA#3591

Entry way to Smoke Creek

Original Tea Lake Dam APMA#221