Here's how Blackbass was described by my paddling mate.
It was only when we got to the 1.9km portage from the North River to Black Bass that the reality of this port sunk in. It went up 97m in the first 1km. It is a beast! Only slightly less steep than Heart Attack hill between Little Nadine and Little Osler. While not quite the grade of Heart Attack Hill, Black Bass is twice as long. And it was 34 degrees Celsius. This portage kicked our butts. It took hours and I’m pretty sure I had heat exhaustion by the time we were done. I felt awful. Even an awesome dinner of steak and fresh veg couldn’t help me shake the pukey weak feeling I had all afternoon and evening. I’m getting too old for this stuff.
Black Bass Lake. Unless you are on a mission to do something weird like we were, there is no reason to visit Black Bass Lake. The lake is small, nondescript, tannin stained. The first campsite on the west shore is garbage. One of the worst I have come across in Algonquin. It is also not where it is marked on Jeff’s Map. It is on the point south of the portage. Not that it matters. It’s garbage. Don’t go there. The other campsite on the opposite side of the lake is OK. It was flat had enough tent spots and a new thunderbox. If the stupid bushcraft furniture was dismantled and the site was cleaned up a bit, it might even be pretty good. But, again I can’t see any reason to come to this dead end lake unless you plan on bushwhacking further east.
He's a poet. I'll see if I can find anything he's written about Madawaska.
