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The Great Magpie River Adventure | A long, not really quiet river

A beaver glides peacefully along the quay, undisturbed by the surrounding excitement: humans load a phenomenal quantity of material into a seaplane, other humans barely hide their haste to get on board.


Posted at 1:37 a.m.

Updated at 11:30 a.m.

We are going down part of the Magpie River, on the North Shore, for a week-long rafting expedition. This river is a legend in the whitewater world. You need to be an experienced paddler to tackle it in a canoe or kayak. It is much more accessible by rafting. When joining a guided trip, such as that offered by Karavaniers, it is not necessary to know whitewater techniques. On the other hand, you have to be in good shape, like adrenaline rushes and be comfortable on the water. As well as in the water…

PHOTO MARIE TISON, THE PRESS

The Magpie River is one of the great rafting rivers on the planet.

The seaplane drops us off near an old hunting camp south of Lake Magpie and we spend the rest of the afternoon inflating the rafts and setting up the catarafts, two-hulled boats that will be used to transport our equipment. . The big departure on the water is tomorrow. Tonight, the challenge is to enjoy grilled lobster and cranberry fudge without getting too dirty. We won’t have access to a shower for a while.

PHOTO MARIE TISON, THE PRESS

A little lobster to start the expedition.

In the early morning, the expedition sets off, after loading the catarafts, a short paddling lesson, safety instructions and the difficult task of putting on a tight isothermal suit.

PHOTO MARIE TISON, THE PRESS

A little nervous before our first rapids

We soon face the first rapids. In a first raft, Mathieu Bourdon, owner of Noryak, the partner company of Karavaniers, follows a relatively cautious line (the word “relatively” is important here). In the second raft, his brother Jean-François is a bit more daring. But all the passengers remain on board, although wetter than at departure.






The rapids follow one another (are these the Snow White rapids or the Porcupine rapids? We get lost). There’s not a lot of downtime.

Sometimes, we land on a piece of rock to allow the guides to gauge the rapids ahead and plan a more or less tumultuous route, as desired.

We stop to set up camp at the foot of a set of rapids. It is to the sound of the roaring water that we enjoy a shrimp poké, prepared in particular by the cataraft helmsmen, Nicolas Auger and Ariel Desrosiers, true gourmets. The weather is rainy, it’s not today that we will be able to dry our isothermal suits.

We have time ahead of us, we can afford a short day off to explore a pretty waterfall or to fish for trout. This is often small, it gets thrown back into the waves. But some specimens are larger and will end up on the grill.

PHOTO MARIE TISON, THE PRESS

You must participate in portages when the rapids are impassable.

The return to the river is made the next day, with another series of very vigorous rapids. One of them is not passable, even by raft. You have to do a short portage. Which means unloading the catarafts and transporting camping gear, tables, chairs, crates and coolers. Fortunately, we devoured the chocolate tart last night, it lightened things up.

PHOTO MARIE TISON, THE PRESS

Rope is the art of sliding rafts across the water by controlling them with a rope, when rapids are too intense.

We come to another series of rapids, Psycho, a slightly worrying name. This time, we are not doing a portage, but rope: it involves pushing the rafts without passengers into the rapids and steering the boats with ropes. “Trying to lead them” would be more accurate.






We get back on board and sail peacefully to our campsite on Chablis Island.

The place is superb, surrounded by high cliffs. When we arrive, a young black bear, on the shore, quickly disappears. Hmm. It might be an interesting night.

In the end, it is not the bear that proves to be worrying, but a particularly unembarrassed mouse that sneaks into our bags looking for a snack as soon as we turn our backs. She eventually gets tired of this little game and we can finally relax under a very starry sky with a risotto, followed by a blueberry sidewalk from the North Shore.

PHOTO MARIE TISON, THE PRESS

A small homemade sauna. Very appreciated when the weather is a little gloomy.

Another day off allows us to explore the boreal forest and its abundance of moss, lichen and mushrooms, and to admire the valley from above. The weather is a little sad. Some participants choose to stay at the camp and, under the instructions of Jean-François, build a homemade sauna on the water’s edge. Kindly, they allow frozen hikers to experience the installation on their return.

PHOTO MARIE TISON, THE PRESS

One of the coxswains, Ariel Desrosiers, is proud of his kayak descent during the lunch break.

The sun is out the next day, as are the rapids, including those of the Saxophone, which include a good set of waves, a hairpin bend and a sudden descent into an impressive hole. Something to wake you up. We immediately have dinner next door. Which allows Nicolas and Ariel to get out of the inflatable kayaks and have fun descending the last, foamy section, with relative success. And lots of fun.






We camp at the Pétanque, a field of very round pebbles which lend themselves particularly well to this game. There are moose tracks nearby, as well as those of what could be a wolf. These are almost erased, the beast is probably far from here. Even the inviting smell of halibut grilling over the fire shouldn’t bring him back.

The last day of rafting brings us another short portage and two category R5 rapids, tough ones that require great technical skill from our coxswains. The latest series, Borealis, allows us to learn a new term: submarining. We are underwater when downpours of water fill the raft, which continues on its merry way and ends up emerging at the bottom, as if nothing had happened. All the passengers are holding on, there will be no need to fish them out here and there.

PHOTO MARIE TISON, THE PRESS

While the helmsman, Mathieu Bourdon, gives the final instructions, the paddlers prepare for a tough descent.

The adventure ends with a last short portage and the prospect of dry clothes. And the sadness of not being able to bring the cooks back with us.

The expenses of this trip were largely paid by Karavaniers, who exercised no right to review the content of this report.

Visit the Karavaniers website

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