September '06 Newsletter - Trip #2

Boundary Waters Canoe (8/19/06-8/26/06):

Killing a few hours in Ely before we met with the rest of the group was no problem for Susan. She visited many different shops while Bob parked in the shade and read the paper. There were a few items she needed to round up for the canoe trip but for the most part she was goofing off. We ran into Bill downtown, where to kill time he was searching for a pawnshop. He informed us that Harold was also in town and that both of them had checked in with the outfitter, who had opened up the pink house for them to throw their gear in. By the time we arrived at the pink house, Kay was also occupying a room and it wasn't long before the other four arrived.

We were launching the following morning but all arrived early to sort gear and figure out how it was all going to come together. This was our first Boundary Waters Canoe trip and we had elected to have the outfitter provide everything we would need other than our personal clothing and toiletries. First the group was required to watch a video explaining the do's and don't's of traveling in the BWCA. Next we met with John, the owner, who marked good camps, bad camps, and points of interest as he outlined our route on a map. He turned us over to Dave, who showed us our six big Duluth packs full of food, kitchen gear, and camp gear. We were all quite taken aback when he announced that they had provided us with two 6-person tents and were suggesting separating the boys for the girls. Ultimately this worked out just fine; it also turned out that most of the campsites usually only have room for two tents. Dave then issued us five not-quite-so-big Duluth packs and plastic bags in which to stow and carry our clothing and personal items. Every two people shared a bag and Kay stowed the first aid kit, some extra tarps and the group booze in hers. Next John took us out to the canoe rack and introduced us to our 21' long, 52-pound Kevlar canoes. He showed us how to single handedly take one off the rack and flip it up resting the yoke on his shoulders, then how to take it back off again. We all paid rapt attention and he made it look so easy but it just never seemed to go quite that smoothly for us in the field. We retreated to our accommodations to pack for a bit and met for a downtown dinner later.

Up early the next morning, we brewed a couple of pots of coffee, munched a quick breakfast, and went over to the shop to be fitted for pfd's and paddles. We parked our vehicles in the extra lot, hopped into the outfitter's 15-passenger van that was towing a trailer of canoes and were off to the put-in. It took about a half hour to get there and we saw a speckled grouse along the way. The water access was indeed the one controlled by the Chainsaw Sister's Saloon but we figured we could check that out a week later upon takeout. Thankfully our young, strong driver Kevin humped two canoes and a number of Duluth packs about at city block to the water for us. Not that we couldn't carry them but it took us a while to get the technique down. By the 2nd or 3rd portage it was going pretty smoothly. Since it was a Sunday, only a few canoes were going our direction while most were heading home. We heard rumors of Northern Lights sightings the previous night and were hoping to see some ourselves. The only wildlife we noticed while paddling was quite a number of mud turtles sunning themselves on rocks and lily pads. We soon found that it was easy to identify the portages by the canoe scrapings on the rocks near the landings.

Our first camp was #2 on Horse Lake - camps are identified by a number on the latrine. Gary and Harold organized the wood we had gathered en route and quickly had a roaring blaze going. Bob and Trudy teamed up to grill our steaks and bake potatoes over coals. Bob tended the fire while Trudy stirred up cheesecake. Not only was dinner delicious after such a tough day, Susan could hardly wait to get rid of that weight from our heaviest Duluth pack. The outfitter had given us the option of having a few fresh meals at the start of the trip and we thought it was a great idea, thinking we would soon enough tire of freeze-dried. Big mistake! We're backpackers! Freeze-dried is great - 70 to 80 pound packs are not! We knew when none of us could hoist that pack to put it on that our fresh food pack wasn't the 45 pounds we expected. As the last rays of light vanished we noticed loons gliding by and several beaver near our canoe harbor. Ernie assumed the daily task of hanging our food to protect it from marauding bears. At many of the campsites, this was quite a challenge. We found the 6 person tents fairly easy to erect and named one "the Hen's" and other "the Men's". We don't know if Northern Lights danced across the sky that night or not. It's possible but all were in dreamland well before that time of night.

After a fine breakfast of Canadian bacon and Toads in Holes (also known as Cowboys' Assholes), we were energized and ready to break camp. Leaving camp half the group spotted a soaring bald eagle, the first of many we would see during the week. Others spotted 3 river otters playing as we entered the Horse River. John had cautioned us that the drought had made the river somewhat more challenging to negotiate due to low water and beaver dams. Little did he realize, any similarity between a river and the series of small marshy lakes connected by foot wide, couple inch deep streams was purely coincidental. What he described as lift-overs were more like uneven wet foot portages. While lunching at one of the actual portages, the Chainsaw Sisters themselves passed through with their dog Andy. While engaged in conversation, Andy craftily snuck in and grabbed the last bit of cheese. By the last lift-over we were looking forward to a day of paddling rather than carrying. The reed-filled channel that led us to Basswood Lake was lovely, a perfect place for moose or so we thought. The moose must have had other plans. We did see many more turtles and a very large blue heron. Another treat that day was the proclivity of lavender wild hyacinths and water lilies. Our camp overlooking Lower Basswood Falls was quite large but seemed a bit overused in comparison to our first camp and subsequent camps. Flat space was at a premium here, as we would find at other camps in the days to come. The bear bag hanging options were not the best at this site but we made do and thankfully were not visited. We again had beaver near the canoe landing and white noise of the rapids lulled us to sleep.

Walking the portage around Basswood Falls, we could understand why paddling it was not recommended, though one of our large rafts might have popped through okay. Our "Hilton" campsite (latrine #21) on Crooked Lake was indeed a beauty. Entertaining as always, Harold introduced us to the one "luxury item" he had allowed himself for the trip - a battery operated handheld bug zapper that looked like a cross between a paddle ball racket and a fish net. Actually he and Gary considered using it for a landing net since we didn't have many bugs to zap and they hadn't brought a net along. Harold was our only fisherman and wasn't doing to well without live bait and being unfamiliar with MN fish habits. Gary tried to assist him by paddling him around the lake while we were in camp but at this particular camp, Harold's only fish was a log shaped like a Northern Pike. The bear bag hanging at this camp should have been filmed for America's Funniest Home Video. We had cameras but we couldn't spare a person to film it! We saw bald eagles again this day and had them soaring over our camp. Again we had muskrats off the landing.

By the fourth day of the trip, we were getting into the routine and enjoying not having quite so many portages. We had to carry over a beaver dam surrounded by interesting tamarack bog. Carnivorous pitcher plants lined the banks, or what seemed like banks. In a rush to find a camp in an area where camps were scarce, we passed them by. Niki Lake Camp #1 was not as large as our previous accommodations. Susan swore there weren't two flat spots with sufficient space for the two domes. However, they went up pretty quickly with the threat of rain looming. Susan, Sandy, and Bob paddled back to the bog to take pictures of the pitchers. Bob likened standing on the floating bog to standing on a waterbed. Gary took Harold trolling for Northern and Harold regaled us with stories of the large bass that got away! A pair of adult loons with a chick in tow floated by, calling eerily. Wolves howled during the night but we didn't emerge from the tents to look for them. Actually, Ernie, Harold, and Bill slept out most if not all of the nights. While the Hen's tent was rather full, the men's seemed less popular, probably due to Bob and Gary's snoring and farting.

A short portage warmed us up and the anticipation of our upcoming mile long butt grinding portage was much more grueling than the actual event. Since our loop was only 38 (or was it 42) miles and we had 7 days to make it around, we found ourselves with a day in hand towards the end of the trip. We had planned it that way to make allowances for windy days but we truly hadn't had any. To assure ourselves a good campsite on our last night, we paddled hard on our fifth day and found a great site on Boot Lake for our last two nights camp. Rain threatened and the wind howled during the night and we awoke to overcast skies on Friday morning. We split up a lunch after breakfast. Most of us lightweights decided to spend a leisurely day reading in our tents while the real men, Ernie, Bill, and Harold were off in a canoe to explore a loop we had considered doing if we had a lot of extra time. It never did really rain and some of us camp magnets were feeling a bit sheepish about staying behind until our three returned with tales of man-swallowing swamps.

Susan had been rearranging the kitchen bags daily to even out the carry weight but by the last day, that wasn't much of a challenge. We had eaten almost everything they had provided except for the fish breading and frying supplies. Next year Harold! We were up early and on the water quickly. It was overcast but clearing into a beautiful day. We met quite a number of folks on their way in as we moved out. We narrowly missed being involved in an altercation between bees and canoeists who had inadvertently piled their packs on top of a hive. One lone canoeist came by with a beautiful red cedar canoe that he made himself. We were envious but realized we lacked the skill to maneuver such a beauty. We shared our last lunch at a camp on Mudro Lake and blasted off for the take-out. The narrow shallow channel we had entered on was even shallower a week later and we found that we had to float the canoes beside us as we sloshed the last Ľ to ˝ mile. Fortunately there was enough water to do so easily. Back to the Chainsaw Sisters with plenty of time to spare before our shuttle driver was scheduled to appear, we piled the gear and dropped in for ice-cold libations. We were thankful we had stopped for lunch rather than holding out for the juicy burgers we imagined the sisters grilled up. No such thing kids: beer, sodas, t-shirts, and a place to sit outside and enjoy the isolation. We had seen a few red maple leaves on our last couple of portages and noticed many more turning as our shuttle returned us to Ely.

Our week in the BWCA went by too quickly and we hated to see it end. Back at the outfitters, we efficiently pulled out our personal gear, picked up our vehicles, checked in our rental gear, and said our goodbyes.

If you should find yourself in downtown Ely, MN, be sure to check out both the Brandenburg (outdoor and wildlife photography) and Bare Bones (interiors and artwork) galleries, Will Steiger's apparel shop for custom made Mukluks, and the timber wolf preserve. En route to Ely, stop in at the Bois Forte Cultural Center (on the grounds of Fortune Bay Casino) to learn more about the Ojibwe or the Vince Shute Bear Preserve.

Participants: Bill Bambina, Susan Groth, Ernie Hildner, Sandy Hildner, Bob Marley, Gary Patterson, Trudy Patterson, Harold Schuck, & Kay Threlkeld.

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