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Canoeing Between Mountains: Part 2- The Trip Arrives

Day 1: Wednesday September 4th

The howling winds of the previous night had died down to a dull roar, but they were certainly still going to be a factor on this plunge day into the Boundary Waters. The wind was one of the last things on my mind when I fell asleep the night before and one of the first to hit my focus when I woke. Big east-west oriented lakes and a steady W/SW breeze were not the combination I had hoped for, but an early start would give me every advantage available on this day. So I set forth into the Boundary Waters Canoe Area for the 20th time with big goals in mind. Relax. Indulge. Appreciate. Slow down. Yes, big goals indeed.

Little John Lake passed quickly and I was able to float through the shallow section between it and John Lake, officially passing the invisible line (and the no snowmobiles sign) separating civilization from wilderness. The paddle through John Lake was short and soon I was facing my first challenge of the trip, a 207 rod portage (roughly 2/3 mile) rated an 8/10 for difficulty on my trusty Voyageur Map. I almost always double portage, so by the time I walked the portage 3 times, first with my canoe and small pack, then empty to return to where I started, and one last time with my large CCS portage pack and the paddle and net, I had walked about 2 miles and taken almost an hour to do so. That was enough time for the winds to get going on East Pike and although I had plans to troll through the lake and maybe catch one of the lake's namesake fish, I quickly abandoned that idea. In the last portions of East Pike, the terrain offered great protection from the wind and made paddling much easier. The hills and cliff faces around this area of the BW are truly something to behold, resembling small forested mountains as they rise 300-500+ feet above the surrounding lakes.

I passed through an entirely unoccupied East Pike and arrived at the portage between East Pike and West Pike Lakes. Overall it was very similar to the previous portage but with even less elevation gain. By the end though, my tired calves and quads were happy to be done portaging for the day. Very few of the portage and campsite landings on this route were spots you could fully pull up into, so my wet-foot portage method and quick drain Merrell shoes were a nice bonus for the entire trip.


With the winds continuing to increase, I just focused on crossing the lake, using the various points as windbreaks and arrived at the second from far west end site (#726) after just under 6 hours of travel. It was a great site overall, but plain to see that it gets a lot of use and has seen its unfair share of poor choices by previous occupants. The rest of Wednesday went by quickly as setting up camp, taking a nap, gathering and preparing firewood, eating dinner and relaxing as I read took up most of the daylight hours. I ended the evening with a nice long fire, soaking in the bellowing calls of the loons who too seemed to appreciate the now diminished winds.

Day 2: Thursday September 5th

Raindrops keep falling on my head, but that doesn't mean my eyes... (Oh just sing it, you know you want to). There were raindrops but they definitely were not falling on my head. I did however wake up a few times through the early morning hours to raindrops falling on my hammock tarp and that rain was expected to be on and off throughout much of the day. Thankfully it was more "off" than "on" and even when it did rain it was mostly light sheets of fine mist, the kind that you barely notice enough to even bother to put on the rain jacket.


The plan for the day was simple, find the portage to Gogebic Lake, conquer the portage to Gogebic Lake with my canoe, catch a brook trout on Gogebic and then bring it back to my campsite to cook for lunch. Mission nearly accomplished, minus that whole catching and eating a brook trout part. Oh well. The portage to Gogebic is not for the faint of heart, but I did it anyway and was rewarded with an experience few who visit the BW ever take the chance to have- overcoming a huge obstacle with a smile on my face. And a little dirt and sweat. And some swearing before that smile. But mostly just the smile. And damn did it feel good to get that canoe up (and back down) that hill. Some unsolicited advice- revel in my success and just go up there with your fishing gear. Forget the canoe. There are plenty of lakeshore paths to provide fishing opportunities until the fish go out too deep, so use them and save yourself the effort. Or don't, you've been warned.

Worn out from the Gogebic experience and being taunted by a windy West Pike Lake, I spent the afternoon in camp working on achieving my original goals. I explored the woods behind the site, took some photos, read, listened to the birds, and pretty much just fell into a tranquil stupor for a few hours. After dinner I did go back out to fish and caught my one and only West Pike fish- a 12 inch smallmouth bass. Not exactly stellar results, but hey, this is a take it as it comes type of day already, so why change things now. Another campfire and a beautiful pink and purple clouded sunset punctuated a well earned lazy day. So far, so good.

Day 3: Friday September 6th

Friday began a stretch of three days with the wake up-pack up-travel-arrive-set up-explore/fish-campfire-sleep pattern. It also marked the first day of winter, which I sometimes forget begins in September and ends in June in the Boundary Waters. Ok it wasn't that cold, 35 or so when I woke up and mid 50's during most of the day, but it was a stark change from two days earlier. Luckily my 20 degree sleeping bag and Vulcan underquilt made a great cold stopping combo and I did not suffer unnecessarily from CBS (cold butt syndrome).

Perhaps the most interesting discovery of my trip occurred along the portage between Clearwater Lake and Caribou Lake. This long portage got the heart pounding right from the start, rating harder by a wide margin over the portages from Wednesday. Or maybe I was just tired and weak from the previous lengthy portage only 30 minutes earlier to get into Clearwater? Nah, let's just go with it being harder.

Along the portage near to the Caribou end, I spotted several historical remnants predating the BW existence as a protected wilderness including a box spring, fuel can, wood stove, engine and a size 9 blue Hey Dude. The metal scraps are now considered "cultural artifacts" of the BW and won't be removed (and likely couldn't be as they weigh a lot), but I did scoop up the Hey Dude. I asked the couple camping at the site on Caribou near the portage if it was theirs (it wasn't), marking the only time I spoke to someone during my entire visit to the BW. Unless you count squirrels, birds, cameras, the wind, fires and other similar things, then I did plenty of talking. That's normal though, right?

I ended up staying at site #689 on Caribou and once again felt like I hit the jackpot as far as site quality. I do think the tent pads turn off quite a few prospective occupants, but since I was in my hammock, it got a healthy rating from me. Someone had found a skull and moose jaw and left it near a stump in camp for others to enjoy. The jaw was clearly from a much larger moose than the skull and was a great reminder at just how gigantic those majestic creatures are. This campsite also had a lot of sporadic bird activity as the chickadees, nuthatches and several species of warblers were very chatty for much of the afternoon.

Although my time on Caribou was fairly short, I was able to find a fishing hot spot not far from camp. I quickly recognized a structure pattern I have been successful fishing on numerous BW lakes, and within less than an hour I had caught 8 Smallmouth bass (topping out just short of 19") 2 mid-twenties pike and lost a mid to upper 30's pike at the boat. It was my best stretch of fishing on this trip and made me wish I had spent my extra night on Caribou rather than West Pike.

Day 4: Saturday September 7th

If I said something about Friday being cold, Saturday definitely responded with one of those "hold my beer" moments. I didn't roll out of the hammock until 6:30, by which time it had already warmed up to a balmy 33 degrees. The low was somewhere a couple degree south of that, making Saturday officially the coldest temperature I had slept in outdoors since winter camping as a young teen. Thankfully again my sleep system, combined with a pair of thermal pants and wool socks, did their job and I was snug and warm as could be all night long. Let's just not talk about the next hour after waking up and having to pack camp...


The fog on this Saturday morning was dense and I could barely see the opposite shore of the lake or the point behind which I had fished the evening before. So I followed shore closely, crossing the lake at a less wide area and then followed the opposite shore to the portage.

By the time I returned to Caribou for my second load, most of the fog had dissipated and was quickly being replaced by bright blue sky. The next two lakes, Deer and Moon, were completely still. I did notice numerous masses of dead lake fly-like insects floating on both lakes, a testament to the quick and deep drops in temperature from the past two nights. It was making the smallmouth bass quite happy though, reminding me that nothing truly goes to waste in nature.

The portage between Moon Lake and East Bearskin Lake has a short set of stairs on what ends up being a steep but not overly long or remarkable portage. I'm only in East Bearskin for a short time and after the easiest portage of the trip, I'm paddling through the west arm of Alder Lake, another lake nestled among topographically stunning hills. I settled into campsite #708, continuing my streak of top-notch sites and at the time was the only person on the lake, although 2 other canoes would come through later in the day and both choose to stay at sites to the west of me. This raised site has a built in staircase leading up to a large open area with lots of space for tents and a few choices for hammocks. The only drawback was a strangely elevated fire pit that made sitting in front of the fire challenging, as it would occasionally spit sparks right into your chest and lap.

I fished a little bit on Alder and was broke off by what felt like a sizable fish, relieving me of my last purple Rapala taildancer (I had lost another on a snag back in Caribou), possibly the only sour moment of this entire trip. The winds had picked up, so in defeat I headed back to camp where I instead took to reading quite a few chapters of the book I had brought along- Deep Survival- Who Lives, Who Dies, and Why by Laurence Gonzales. Perhaps the wilderness is not the place to read about wilderness related tragedies and near-tragedies (or maybe it's exactly the right place), but nonetheless it's a highly recommended read about how regions of the brains influence the life or death decisions people make, often without knowing they are making them.

I passed the rest of the day gathering firewood, eating dinner (Cuban Rice Bowl by Good To Go is the best dehydrated meal I have ever eaten!), having a short campfire and then finishing with a little stargazing between the scattered clouds before bed. Overall this was my most relaxing and do-nothing kind of day, exactly what I had set out to experience on this trip.


Day 5: Sunday September 8th

A passing thought before bedtime has become a lingering fixation. No need for details, but I noticed the previous night that my toilet paper supply was much lower than expected. The only reason this was an issue was this trip was planned to be flexible- I had the food and free time to exit on either Monday or Tuesday, only it was starting to look like toilet paper would be the limiting factor. I bet most everyone reading this has never had to muddle through those exact inner thoughts.


My second portage of the day was the often scoffed at (at least in BW canoe circles) Canoe to Pine portage. Thankfully I was going the "easy" direction, which meant a steep uphill climb for the first few minutes, then a less steep but still uphill section, followed mostly by flat or downhill sections including several switchbacks, something rarely present on BW portages. Coming from the other direction, you walk 75% of a long portage uphill on several steep grades. No thanks, I only had to go that direction empty-handed and it was tough enough like that. I came across a random snapping turtle along this portage, far enough away from water on a cool morning to make me wonder what it thought it was doing. So be it turtle, do your thing. I also took some time to rest and show off my balance beam skills on this portage, because, why not. Simone who?

With my portages finished, I took a side-trek to go see Johnson Falls. This 15-minute each way hike has a beautiful ending, one that would be that much more amazing to see during high water flow times, but was still worth the effort.

I returned to Pine Lake, paddled along the shore until I reached the only site on the south side of the lake (#731) and finding it open, claimed it as mine for the night. This is yet another site with some great qualities including an unobstructed view of miles of the lake right from the fire grate seating area. Tent pads were large and fairly flat, but hammock trees were not plentiful. Thankfully as a solo canoeist, it only takes one spot and coming up with that was easy enough.

The glassy smooth Pine Lake of the morning had turned into angry Pine Lake by lunchtime. On a day where winds were forecast for 6-8mph, I would guess that Pine Lake was seeing sustained winds of 12-15mph and bigger gusts, creating some whitecaps in the middle and decent rollers along the shore. I decided to try my luck in yet another brook trout lake, this time choosing Vale Lake due to its proximity and easy access from my site, even in the wind. Yet again, no luck on the trout front, but I did get an amazing view from high up above Pine Lake where the portage ends at Vale, right after the most brutal last 20 rods of a portage I have ever experienced. Straight up and down is not much of an overstatement. Do not recommend!

On my way back to camp, I gathered firewood and then relaxed around camp, finishing my book and most of the remaining toilet paper. Ugh. Guess that makes the decision for me; tomorrow would be my exit day. The best sunset of the trip followed by a short campfire and a long night sky exploration concluded my day. I did get to see the infamous Starlink satellite parade on this night as well, watching as 15 satellites, each about 2-3 minutes apart, crossed above the lake and passed right over my site. I accepted that as my going away present- better than socks from grandma I suppose. Unless they were new wool socks to replace the ones I had worn holes through on this trip...

Day 6: Monday September 9th

After a glorious weather day on Sunday and a warmer night, I didn't expect to wake up to another foggy morning, but that's exactly what happened. As I packed camp, I noticed that a wide break in the fog was forming- I could see about 1/2 mile east and a 1/2 mile west from my camp, but anything farther down the lake either direction was obscured by a dense, dark fog. Luckily I finished packing camp just as this break in the fog was about to overtake my location, paddling away from camp feeling like I was escaping from some advancing evil black hole. Unluckily my phone battery died around the campfire the night before so I have no photos of this monstrosity of fog, but believe me, it was something out of scary childhood bedtime stories. Thankfully I pretend to be an adult most of the time, so to me it was another natural sight to contemplate and enjoy.


Apparently I move at the speed of advancing fog, because it remained behind me at a constant distance of a couple hundred feet for almost 4 miles while I paddled the lake west to east and then seemed to mysteriously disappear as I neared the last portions of Pine Lake. The views as you approach the east end of Pine Lake are absolutely stunning- high ridges with strange angles and pitches that drop off to sheer cliffs still high above the treed hillsides. The many shades of green beginning to mix with lighter yellows was a true sight to behold and was made that much more enjoyable by the lack of wind and waves on what just the afternoon before would have been a truly unsettling experience in a canoe.


I reluctantly paddled through the shallow and rocky area connecting Pine with McFarland Lake, once again crossing the invisible wilderness line and immediately coming into view of various docks and houses. McFarland was serene, pretty and at least at the time, empty, sharing the same backdrop of beautiful green hills as Pine. I hope the people lucky enough to have cottages or homes on this lake realize what a gem they have in their backyards.


The entire trip through Pine and McFarland took only 2 hours, but that was plenty of time to reflect on the amazing trip I was finishing. The mental relaxation and appreciation for the beauty of this wilderness were both achieved daily, even when the physical portions of this trip were fighting their way to the forefront. The weather, despite being highly variable from day-to-day, was near perfect. The lack of people in general (I think I saw 12 people in 6 days) was a change from my mid-summer trips and although the fishing wasn't quite up to expectations, that didn't leave me disappointed in any way. Like most of my past trips, it was over too quickly, leading to yearning to get back to experience more- next time with just a little more toilet paper!







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