Friends of Dumoine

By Wally Schaber, Director, Friends of Dumoine.

Bill Mason loved the Dumoine and all Wild Rivers.

He was one of the great influencers in my life. He was my friend, paddling partner, right winger in hockey games, business supporter and helped form in me a wilderness philosophy I’ve tried to translate into Friends of Dumoine. 

Bill believed it was essential to build in others a value system that translated into serious support for preserving wilderness. He believed there were many venues to accomplish this. The strongest way was taking people into the wilderness and teaching them the skills and behaviour necessary to enjoy wilderness travel but leave a small footprint. 

Bill and I agreed the segment of the population that can/will do a wilderness journey is too small a voting bloc to influence decision makers. At that time, I felt I could best influence people through teaching skills, guiding trips, offering high quality outfitting and doing public speaking (this was pre social media). 

 Chris Harris and I and hundreds of Black Feather and Trailhead staff over the 40-year history of Trailhead/Black Feather, directly guided or outfitted 50,000 paddlers on the Dumoine in canoes and on skis. Both companies continue to do that on a smaller scale today. 

An eclectic paddler, Bill’s skills extended to writing, film making, public speaking and painting. Through these media he influenced hundreds of thousands of people worldwide and continues to do so, five decades after his death. 

Inspired by Bill, when I retired in 2015, I wanted to give something back to the Dumoine. I lobbied beside John McDonnell and CPAWS to establish Aquatic Reserve status for both the Dumoine in 2008, and the Coulonge and Noire in 2024.The Poussiere, Fildegrande and Kipawa Rivers are next. 

But my skills are more grass roots. A group of veteran Dumoine canoeists felt the footprint of canoeists in the 2000s was disrespecting the Dumoine, and if we set a high bar of cleanliness for campsites and portages perhaps others that followed would get the message. 

From 2016-2019 we built 50 thunder boxes. Creatively painted by local artists, and with the help of shuttle drivers, retired guides (doing second generation family trips), camps and guiding companies, we delivered/installed one box on each campsite followed by a thorough cleaning and rebuilding of each. It worked; a high standard of campsite etiquette exists today on the Dumoine.

In 2019 we embarked on a hiking trail building project with Zec Dumoine and CPAWS. The trail was a re-creation of a trail first cleared by Zec Dumoine in 2000 but was first built as a supply road for a lumber camp in 1840. 

Our thinking was threefold:

1.  To have a strong voice when lobbying for our types of water and land trails we need more self-propelled users involved in appreciating/contributing to the Dumoine Valley, as opposed to the development of snowmobile , ATV, truck and hunting trails. Hikers are the largest self-propelled user group in the world. They could be a new type of traveller contributing to the Dumoine’s support and economic impact, thus generating local support for preservation of our type of Dumoine experience. 

2. The rich history of the Dumoine Valley is a fascinating reflection of Canada’s history. Every type of traveller, motorized or self-propelled, loves to learn about this history. We are creating the trail in a manner that tells this history through artifacts, maps and photos. Some artifacts are left in place where we find them, while others are returned to the trail from places where they were stored. The majority are displayed at the north and south entrance of the trail where welcome centres exist to house these treasures. 

3. Our partnership with Wolf Lake First Nation, CPAWS and Zec Dumoine, brings together expertise to tell the first history of the Dumoine and reintroduce the First Nation youth to their traditional territory. 

CPAWS provided the guidance to protect and interpret the natural environment. 

Zec Dumoine helps us balance the recreational use of the Dumoine watershed with a voice for all. 

Friends of Dumoine sees itself as the “boots on the ground volunteer workforce”. Our volunteers clear the trails, maintain the campsites, write, research, translate and erect the historic signs and man the two welcome centres: one at the north is a cabin at Grande Chute; a second we are building this year at the southern entrance on the Ottawa River. 

We need your help either physically clearing and building or as a writer, translator or donor … of dollars or materials.

We are also looking for hosts at the Grande Chute cabin for 4-7 days May-October. This involves living in the cabin and donating 3-4 hours a day to maintenance or hosting projects. The rest of the time is yours to explore, paint, write, stargaze, hike, canoe, or just …relax. 

For more details on how to get involved send us a note at dumoinefriends@gmail.com. 

To participate in any activity, you must be a member of Friends of Dumoine.

$40 Individual 

$80 Family 

$100 Institutional 

Pay by e-transfer to: dumoinefriends@gmail.com.

Below is part of a story that first appeared in ‘The Last of The Wild Rivers’, 2016, about my travels with Bill Mason and our flights with Ronnie Bowes, the legendary pilot that flew everyone into the Dumoine,1969-2002, in the Beaver CF ODA. 

BILL MASON AND RON BOWES

The spring tradition for ODA began as soon as the ice went out. Ronnie would call me to announce he was taking ODA to Swisha. I would immediately call Bill Mason and a few other friends, and we’d drop everything to be Ron’s first flight of the season into the Dumoine. Just like the timber drivers, spring for us was the time to explore some tributary that was only runnable at the highest water level. The Fildegrande River, Poussiere Creek, or Sucker Creek were our favourites. Bill Mason, a celebrity to many, was my friend, my neighbour, my hockey teammate, and my bowman. He was the touchstone that kept our business, Trailhead, authentic. 

When I first met Bill in 1974, he was beginning a decade of work to produce a series of movies and books on canoeing: “Path of the Paddle”, “Song of the Paddle”, and finally “Waterwalker”. They ignited a bonfire of interest in canoeing and wilderness conservation. At the same time, through Trailhead, Chris Harris and I were developing a series of whitewater canoeing courses and, through Black Feather, a collection of wilderness whitewater adventure trips. Both the courses and the trips dovetailed perfectly with Bill’s work and influenced his book. We shared information from each other’s discoveries and collaborated on whitewater teaching techniques. Chris and I were teaching every weekend with a different rookie in the bow, while Bill always paddled with his son Paul or daughter Becky, both experts. The novice paddlers we were working with were the same people who would be watching or reading Bill’s work. Our communication and teaching techniques evolved rapidly. We helped each other along, benefitting from each other’s experiences. 

In the spring of 1979, Bill and I decided to use the first spring flight of ODA to explore Sucker Creek, a tributary that flows into the Dumoine six kilometres above Grande Chute. Ron greeted us warmly as usual, which was nice because it was cold and grey. “It will be sunny up at Sucker Lake,” guaranteed Ron. I winced. On the previous year’s spring trip, he similarly guaranteed the rain that day would stop. Good to his word, the rain, as predicted, stopped – unfortunately, he didn’t predict it turning into snow! I could see he was silently querying our decision to explore a new route without a second canoe to help if trouble emerged. Ronnie offered to detour our flight route up the creek to show us what we were in for. Lots of whitewater and sweepers (trees that had fallen from shore and half blocked the creek) were visible but no serious waterfalls, so we continued with our planned route. I had allowed a day and half for Sucker Creek and a day for the trip down the Dumoine to the Ottawa River.

Bill was 5’2″ and 140 pounds of muscle, enthusiasm, and energy. I was 21 years younger and 60 pounds heavier than Bill. At 28, I felt invincible in a canoe with Bill in my bow. More than once on that trip down Sucker Creek, we had to backpaddle hard enough to stop the canoe dead and then reverse into a back ferry to avoid a sweeper. With leans and perfectly timed matching strokes, we snaked our way down miles of rock gardens, and even past a startled moose. All day, we paddled in sunshine, and we reached Robinson Lake on the Dumoine below Grande Chute by the first evening. 

Even though he had thoroughly enjoyed paddling all day in a modern canoe made of Royalex, a new flexible plastic, vinyl, and foam sandwich material just on the market, Bill was all about tradition. He set up his canvas Baker tent for us to enjoy, lit a fire in front of it that reflected heat gloriously into the tent, and slipped on his deer-hide moccasins and woollen shirt. 

In all his movies, Bill paddled his favourite Chestnut cedar canvas canoe. That spring, the Chestnut Canoe Company had just declared bankruptcy, and Bill was in mourning. Over the next few years, he encouraged Trailhead and others to make a sixteen-foot and seventeen-foot Chestnut Prospector replica out of modern materials. The resulting Trailhead Royalex Prospector seventeen foot went on to become one of the most reliable expedition whitewater canoes in the North; and our sixteen-foot kevlar and fibreglass models became one of the most popular flatwater canoe tripping crafts in the south. 

Bill’s gear was packed in a traditional canvas Woods canoe pack. I was experimenting with a sixty-litre plastic barrel with a wide mouth lid and waterproof clamp. I’d found it at a trade show in Britain; it was being used as a garbage can. I knew instinctively it was the perfect size to fit inside our canoes. This blue barrel became the standard for waterproofing food and gear for canoe trips across Canada and is Trailhead’s greatest contribution to canoe tripping comfort and safety. 

I was half asleep in the Baker tent sipping a coffee with a lot of Bailey’s in it. Bill was studying the maps and enjoying his coffee (with my special “coffee-mate”). “Ron seemed busy today,” Bill commented. I agreed, but suspected some of those flights were detours just to check on us. This was Ron’s River, and he wasn’t going to let anything happen on his watch. Bill noted that we had some extra time now that we’d reached Robinson Lake early. “It’s just a mile portage over to Otter Lake then another to Cullen and another to the Fildegrande above Devil’s Chute. If we repack more efficiently and both take two pieces, we can do the portages in one trip.” This was typical Bill: Nothing was too hard when the reward was another day of exploring a new river. I don’t want to give you the impression he was not capable of relaxing. Comfort camping, as defined by his beloved Baker tent, was a high priority for Bill. His painting and film trips were legendary for taking as much time as necessary to capture the perfect light or scene. His painting Light on Dumoine Rocks suggests that very theme. 

The next day, we did the portages to Cullen Lake and paddled across to the trail leading to the Fildegrande. In 1979, all these trails were still in good shape due to regular use by fishermen, hunters, and canoeists. The fire rangers’ trails had yet to be reclaimed by nature. New roads and ATVs would change all that. As we paddled across Cullen Lake, I looked toward the southeast and admired a classic log cabin nestled under the pines. It had been built in 1934 by one of the earliest members of the Dumoine Rod and Gun Club, Mr. Raymond Prime, and I am sure that many a good story or fishing fable was told around its wood stove. In 2002, I became the third owner of that cabin and now add my own exaggerations to the tradition. 

But on that morning in 1979, I had no other plan than to enjoy the day. It was to be our first trip down the Fildegrande River, and with two sets of falls marked on the map, we approached each rapid with more caution than on Sucker Creek. It was a glorious spring day, early enough in the season that the leaves and blackflies had not yet emerged. The weather, the new experience, the high sense of discovery and anticipation made every aspect of the descent– including portaging, tracking, or running a rapid–as exciting as a first date with someone you’ve wanted to meet for a long time. Finally, Sandbank Rapids spit us out onto the Dumoine, directly opposite Bald Eagle Cliff. The sun reflected off the wetted spots on this smooth, five-hundred-foot black granite face. Bill and I floated by it in silence, knowing no words could improve on the day we had just experienced. 

Back at Swisha, Ron greeted us and inquired if I noticed anything interesting on the Fildegrande. Obviously, he’d observed our detour. I told him about the many remnants of log chutes and rock walls built to keep the logs moving downriver, and the signs of a major logging camp at Devil’s Chute. “Does ‘M. Bell Velone, 1917’ mean anything to you?” I asked. “We found it carved into the rock at Devil’s Chute.” Ron shook his head, but I knew he’d be in there some time with his metal detector to research the site on his own. There are two other spots on the Dumoine where someone chiselled a name into the granite with a spike and axe. Below the second drop coming out of Lac Laforge, called Manitou Chute, is a tribute to “B. Paquette, Jun 26, 1887, Papineau.” Perhaps it is a memorial to a drowned comrade. 

In the summer of 2014, I discovered a third name beautifully carved into a rock on the east shore below the triple portage: “P.A.M & co 1912.” This carving is more professional and not located at a spot where a logger would have been stationed. In 1912, Paul Malouin and Paul Joncas, two young Quebec land surveyors and recent graduates of a new forestry program at Laval University, were part of an effort by the Quebec Department of Lands and Forests to survey the natural resources of Quebec forests. They conducted a survey by going up the Dumoine, Little Dumoine, Fildegrande, Poussiere, Sucker Creek, and the L’Orignal River from April to June 1912. To try and experience what they and others faced travelling upriver, I did the Dumoine upriver trip in September 2013. For the most part, it was pleasant; but the two days from the Dumoine Club to where I found this carved name above Lac Benoit is exhausting. I feel Paul Malouin must have taken a day off here to enjoy some excellent fishing and rest. “P.A.M. & co 1912” I believe is his work. I’m sure there are more pictographs to be discovered on the Dumoine. 

There were many more memorable trips with Bill. In July 1988, Bill and I shared a Nahanni River trip together with other close friends and family. It was his last request to enjoy one more great river while he had the strength. Bill died in October 1988. Every time I paddle by Bald Eagle Cliff, I think of him and that perfect day on the Fildegrande.