Wind. energy robbing, in your face wind that makes every paddle stroke an effort and every mile an eternity. We slogged our way down the river and managed 24 miles after another long hard day. I watched a few caribou today and thought how the wind doesn't bother them a bit. It keeps away the blackflies and mosquitoes that plague them. But then caribou really have no where to go in particular. We have a goal in mind and unfortunately we are in "finish the trip" mode. Me less so than Lynda, but both of us can see that end and the warm shower and the clean sheets. And the thought of waking up and suddenly realizing you don't have to load the canoe and paddle your daily 24,000 strokes - yes, that's about right - would be so nice about now.

I woke up to pee at 5:00 and when I looked out I groaned so loud that Lynda woke up. The Bay had blown in a heavy blanket of fog that you could cut with a knife. The humidity was 100 % and everything was soaked. I rolled over and feigned sleep. When I looked again at 6:00, it was as bad, so we decided to give it an hour. By 7:00 you could see the sun trying to burn off the fog so we got up. By 8:30 the sun had given up the fight and the wind - in our face of course - was really getting up there.

By lunch, after four hours of battle with the wind, we stopped on a rock beach and made a hurried very uncomfortable kitchen with the tarp. But by 2:00 the sun was starting to appear even if the wind was relentless. Our tempers are short and we are both exhausted. We both know that this is the price of admission to Nunavut but it doesn't make it any more fun day after day.

Cold you say? Well, we got up at 6:00 and when we left I had on my heavy fleece underwear, a pair of wind pants and gortex pants on my bottom half and all of that was hidden under the spray cover. The top half was a tee shirt, undershirt, windshell, gortex and a toque with earflaps. On top of this I wore my lifejacket all day. I was still cold long past noon when it started to warm up a bit.

Anyway, as to the here and now. It cleared off all afternoon until now at 7:00 it is just about nice. Not quite but just about. Of course, who knows in this country? Is it any wonder that a sociologist I read about described the Inuit in the 1930s as the world's only true existentialists? What would be the point in making any plans in this country?

We saw several more tundra swans and the caribou are back. We stopped at one spot and saw 16 all within close range.

The morning was hideous with a big wind in our face across Ranger Seal Lake. Huge waves - 2 1/2 to 3 foot and more- and it seemed to take forever. But then we hit the river and the wind started to back off a bit and we flew. We are now within 15 miles of salt water.

Two big rapids today. Both were ledges that involved a lot of ferrying from side to side. A ferry here from side to side is a long way. Easily 1/2 kilometer and more. When we slipped past the ledges I got that "Oh, my God, if you ever fell into that, you'd be toast!" feeling. The river is huge and in places it feels like you are on lake. Then you look at the GPS and see that you are going 6 to 7 mph.

I'm already thinking about where to paddle next year. This trip will close at about 950 miles and 55 odd days for me. It wasn't too many.