We left Murray Lake on our final day in fog.

We made a small flowery and muddy portage of 210 meters. We paddled 7 map grid winding kilometres on Howry Creek which in the reality of it was probably about 10 or 14 thousand meters.

We entered the lily choked resistance dragging east bay of Charlton Lake. The place where we started only 9 kilometres of paddling away.

or as in the tale of the bewitched canoe; damned voyageurs would have traveled 14 kilometres that day. Shall we call it about 20 kilometres as the paddle meets water?

The round trip of eight days counting map squares was 45 kilometres in the flying canoe.

We stopped for a pint of beer and Lake Huron pickerel with French fries at The Red Dog Inn,
Whitefish Falls... and, I haven't seen them since a month passed.

When the voyageurs are in the canoe they must pit their wills against the devil, and battle to control the boat. No one must pray or call out to God while in the canoe, despite the craziness of the ride, and if they do not return home before sundown, their souls will be forfeit. The story is about a man named Baptiste who takes a new year's eve ride on the flying canoe to visit his sweetheart, but he gets spectacularly drunk and they have trouble returning home. In some stories, the friends that join him on the canoe manage to escape, while Baptiste does not. In other stories, all the men violate the rules of the game and are doomed to roam the skies forever.