These first two posts are serving a purpose. You may notice some errors and the fact that the WCPP trip report is incomplete. Sorry 'bout that. My mission in posting these reports is to serve as a platform for learning Google Analytics and some other skills in my efforts to find gainful employment. I felt the content is "good enough" to not be deemed a waste of time for those who choose to view it, but my time is limited and my priorities do not lie with creating trip reports worthy of a Pulitzer right now.
I hope you find the trip reports useful.
You can find me on linkedin here https://www.linkedin.com/in/erickchristianson
Monday, July 6, 2015
The Grand Portage Trail
June - 2015
In my previous report about canoeing in Woodland Caribou, I had mentioned making some life changing decisions. I went ahead with those changes, and after working on my degree 50+ hours and 7 days a week, I decided to reward myself with a short backpacking trip on the historic Grand Portage in northern Minnesota.
I drove up to Judge CR Magney State Park on June 8. A beautiful drive and refreshingly cool as I watched the thermometer in my car fall from near 80° outside Duluth to 60° just past Gooseberry Falls and into the 40°'s at Grand Marais. On the approach to Grand Marais, I spotted 2 eagles scanning the road from their perch and snapped a quick photo.
My main concern being safe driving over photography, the results were a bit disappointing as my blind camera shot completely missed the majestic birds, but did capture the treetops.
I had so far been unable to locate a decent map of the trail, so I made a quick stop at Lake Superior Outfitters in Grand Marais where I scored a couple topo maps of the trail. It was apparent the maps had been in their stock for some time. I hit Magney SP early evening and set up my hammock for the night before a quick hike up to the Devils Kettle falls.
The Devils Kettle falls are a unique waterfall on the Brule River just a bit over a mile hike from the state park campground. Most of the time the falls split in two halves. The east half of the falls lands below and flows another 1.5 miles to Lake Superior. The western half of the falls spills into a hole in the rock about half way down the falls and goes... well, no one knows where. I say most of the time however, as I have hiked to the falls a good half dozen times and every time has been either during spring melt or too soon after a good rain shower. Every single time I have visited the falls they have been flowing so fast that the mysterious hole has been covered by a torrent of water.
Still, it is a beautiful waterfall.
The hike may only be a mile, but be prepared to climb some stairs!
I pulled up to the Grand Portage Monument headquarters promptly at 8a.m. and exchanged greetings with a Park Service Ranger. He told me to keep an eye open on the trail because "Every time I run the trail" he said "I either see a bear of bear sign." Great.
And so it was with my senses on high alert, I hit the trail
The beginning of the trail is well worn and easy going. From the trail-head by the Fur Trade Headquarters to Hwy61 is obviously well used and well maintained. I crossed Hwy 61, signed in on the trail register, and started slogging up a rocky hill with spirits high.
It quickly became apparent that I had chosen a less than ideal time to hike the trail. Recent rains had made the trail a muddy mess in many places. This was a particular hazard on the sometimes steep hills where the mud was extremely slippery. My thoughts at that point were on the poor canoeist portaging the trail, and wondering how many twisted ankles the trail sees every year. I was also amazed to see wheel tracks in the mud and thought perhaps someone had tried to ride a mountain bike on the trail. Given the state of the trail, this would be a bad idea.
The Park Service has placed boards along places that are swampy or where little streams cross the trail. The water was high enough that in a few places the water was running over the boards. It was also evident that several trail improvements were being worked on this season as trail conditions have changed over time. In several places along the trail boards were waiting alongside the trail for installation.
There were about a half dozen downed trees across the trail, only one presented a navigational issue, and a second decided to strike out at me with a stray branch as a crossed over.
While in my memory the mud stands out, for the most part, the trail was easy to follow and pretty clear.
This trail is not a trail for scenic vistas. It is a (an) historic trail. The trail is comparatively flat. There are only a couple of moderate hills to climb.
I had been hiking for about three hours, and the mud made it apparent that there was someone ahead of me on the trail. I was not surprised when I rounded a bend and saw a canoe resting against a tree ahead of me. I was a bit surprised to see the portagers locked in an embrace beneath the canoe. (Although I suspect they were more surprised than I). I was taking a breath so I could announce my presence from a respectable distance when I inhaled a bug and instead of shouting a greeting I found myself having a horrible coughing fit as I approached the canoe couple. They had recovered from the surprise, and I had recovered from my coughing fit by the time I reached them on the trail. I stopped briefly and we exchanged greetings. They were obviously working hard on the portage, but in good spirits and seemingly good health, so I quickly passed on and told them I would see them at Fort Charlotte.
A short time later I came to the Beaver Pond. The Beaver Pond is a quarter mile of trail on a rickety old bridge that will strike fear into the most stout of heart. The good news is that as I crossed over I met park service staff that were begining the replacement of the 30 year old walkway.
I arrived at the Fort Charlotte campsites at just a bit after noon. I took a bit of time to get the lay of the land, snacked on some gorp, refilled my water from the Pigeon River, and sat and watched a flock of Blue Jays across the river. I had a fair amount of time to kill, so I took my time setting up the hammock and collecting firewood.
I had read up on Fort Charlotte before my trip, so I knew that the trail had recently been diverted to avoid the historic landing and sites of the Northwest Company and XY Company posts. After setting up camp I set out to do some exploring. The old trails (with some help from the park service) have grown over quickly however, and I decided to turn back and enjoy a peaceful afternoon nap in my hammock.
Around dinner time, the canoeists made it to the other campsite at Fort Charlotte. They came by for a short social hour where we swapped a few canoeing stories and then they were off for an early bedtime. Rain came at about 8, and I retired early myself.
Up early the next morning, I hit the trail by 6:30 to head back. The rains had a definite impact on the trail and it was far muddier than the day before. About 100 yards up the trail from the campsite I spotted bear tracks in the fresh mud, and I was following behind Yogi. I followed the bear tracks for a good half mile or more when I came upon fresh bear "sign" (a polite term for poo). I had passed several deposits from bear and wolf along the trail the day before, there was no mistake that this was fresh.
The mud made for the best wildlife observations. I could see that at least 2 bears, 1 wolf and more than a couple moose had used the trail between my passing the day before and my return trip. One moose used the trail for quite some time, and it was a great help to see where he/she had slipped in the mud on slopes so I could avoid a similar problem. The only animals I actually encountered on the trail were a couple of ticked off red squirrels and one grouse that scared the heck out of me when she jumped out of the grasses all puffed up and hissing!
As I said before, this is a historic trail, not a particularly scenic one. Yes, the woods are great, but for scenery so many nearby trails offer everything this trail does and so much more. When I do it again, I will probably go back with a light day pack and carry water, lunch and some emergency supplies and just hike in and out in a single day. I would hate to be portaging a canoe in this trail, and not just because of the 8.5 mile distance... It has some very nasty spots for a heavily loaded portage.
Bugs? Not too bad (that being a relative assessment). My picadarin based bug spray lasted precisely 1 hour between sprays. The only time I was overwhelmed by mosquitoes was changing clothes under my tarp during the rain. I encountered a swarm of black flies during a rest at Old Hwy 61. The black flies attacked my navy blue backpack and left me alone however.
The trail needs, and is getting, some maintenance. Yes, I have been on far rougher trail in the BWCA, but they are not usually so washed out as this one is.
One disappointment would be the inaccurate signage from the Park Service. Nothing that would cause a safety or navigational issue though. Two examples would be 1) the trail length at both ends is listed as 8.5 miles. The distance given from the fur post to Old Hwy 61 is 3.7 miles, and from Fort Charlotte to Old Hwy 61 is given as 4.0 miles. It is about 80 yards crossing the road at Old Hwy 61, leaving a mysterious 8/10 of a mile missing somewhere. 2) at Old Hwy 61 heading to Fort Charlotte the sign gives mileage to the next road crossing and is off by 2 or 3 miles. Like I said, not a safety concern, and there is little chance of losing the trail anywhere along the way... just wondering why they are so inaccurate.
Being a bit of a history buff, I enjoyed the experience. I've always wanted to hike the Grand Portage, and with my measly 40 pound pack, a maintained trail, and better bug control through chemicals, it was challenging enough. I can't imagine what it must have been like lugging 100Lb packs across in the 17-1800s!
For one that has traveled a few trails in Northern Minnesota, it is a decent one to add to the list. If you only get to choose one trail however, this is not the one. Go hit the Superior Hiking Trail or the Border Route Trail instead. If you are a canoeist, think twice before portaging this trail. I understand the desire to do the Voyageur route, but this trail is a challenging portage.
In my previous report about canoeing in Woodland Caribou, I had mentioned making some life changing decisions. I went ahead with those changes, and after working on my degree 50+ hours and 7 days a week, I decided to reward myself with a short backpacking trip on the historic Grand Portage in northern Minnesota.
I drove up to Judge CR Magney State Park on June 8. A beautiful drive and refreshingly cool as I watched the thermometer in my car fall from near 80° outside Duluth to 60° just past Gooseberry Falls and into the 40°'s at Grand Marais. On the approach to Grand Marais, I spotted 2 eagles scanning the road from their perch and snapped a quick photo.
I had so far been unable to locate a decent map of the trail, so I made a quick stop at Lake Superior Outfitters in Grand Marais where I scored a couple topo maps of the trail. It was apparent the maps had been in their stock for some time. I hit Magney SP early evening and set up my hammock for the night before a quick hike up to the Devils Kettle falls.
The Devils Kettle falls are a unique waterfall on the Brule River just a bit over a mile hike from the state park campground. Most of the time the falls split in two halves. The east half of the falls lands below and flows another 1.5 miles to Lake Superior. The western half of the falls spills into a hole in the rock about half way down the falls and goes... well, no one knows where. I say most of the time however, as I have hiked to the falls a good half dozen times and every time has been either during spring melt or too soon after a good rain shower. Every single time I have visited the falls they have been flowing so fast that the mysterious hole has been covered by a torrent of water.
The hike may only be a mile, but be prepared to climb some stairs!
I pulled up to the Grand Portage Monument headquarters promptly at 8a.m. and exchanged greetings with a Park Service Ranger. He told me to keep an eye open on the trail because "Every time I run the trail" he said "I either see a bear of bear sign." Great.
And so it was with my senses on high alert, I hit the trail
It quickly became apparent that I had chosen a less than ideal time to hike the trail. Recent rains had made the trail a muddy mess in many places. This was a particular hazard on the sometimes steep hills where the mud was extremely slippery. My thoughts at that point were on the poor canoeist portaging the trail, and wondering how many twisted ankles the trail sees every year. I was also amazed to see wheel tracks in the mud and thought perhaps someone had tried to ride a mountain bike on the trail. Given the state of the trail, this would be a bad idea.
The Park Service has placed boards along places that are swampy or where little streams cross the trail. The water was high enough that in a few places the water was running over the boards. It was also evident that several trail improvements were being worked on this season as trail conditions have changed over time. In several places along the trail boards were waiting alongside the trail for installation.
There were about a half dozen downed trees across the trail, only one presented a navigational issue, and a second decided to strike out at me with a stray branch as a crossed over.
I had been hiking for about three hours, and the mud made it apparent that there was someone ahead of me on the trail. I was not surprised when I rounded a bend and saw a canoe resting against a tree ahead of me. I was a bit surprised to see the portagers locked in an embrace beneath the canoe. (Although I suspect they were more surprised than I). I was taking a breath so I could announce my presence from a respectable distance when I inhaled a bug and instead of shouting a greeting I found myself having a horrible coughing fit as I approached the canoe couple. They had recovered from the surprise, and I had recovered from my coughing fit by the time I reached them on the trail. I stopped briefly and we exchanged greetings. They were obviously working hard on the portage, but in good spirits and seemingly good health, so I quickly passed on and told them I would see them at Fort Charlotte.
A short time later I came to the Beaver Pond. The Beaver Pond is a quarter mile of trail on a rickety old bridge that will strike fear into the most stout of heart. The good news is that as I crossed over I met park service staff that were begining the replacement of the 30 year old walkway.
I arrived at the Fort Charlotte campsites at just a bit after noon. I took a bit of time to get the lay of the land, snacked on some gorp, refilled my water from the Pigeon River, and sat and watched a flock of Blue Jays across the river. I had a fair amount of time to kill, so I took my time setting up the hammock and collecting firewood.
I had read up on Fort Charlotte before my trip, so I knew that the trail had recently been diverted to avoid the historic landing and sites of the Northwest Company and XY Company posts. After setting up camp I set out to do some exploring. The old trails (with some help from the park service) have grown over quickly however, and I decided to turn back and enjoy a peaceful afternoon nap in my hammock.
Around dinner time, the canoeists made it to the other campsite at Fort Charlotte. They came by for a short social hour where we swapped a few canoeing stories and then they were off for an early bedtime. Rain came at about 8, and I retired early myself.
Up early the next morning, I hit the trail by 6:30 to head back. The rains had a definite impact on the trail and it was far muddier than the day before. About 100 yards up the trail from the campsite I spotted bear tracks in the fresh mud, and I was following behind Yogi. I followed the bear tracks for a good half mile or more when I came upon fresh bear "sign" (a polite term for poo). I had passed several deposits from bear and wolf along the trail the day before, there was no mistake that this was fresh.
The mud made for the best wildlife observations. I could see that at least 2 bears, 1 wolf and more than a couple moose had used the trail between my passing the day before and my return trip. One moose used the trail for quite some time, and it was a great help to see where he/she had slipped in the mud on slopes so I could avoid a similar problem. The only animals I actually encountered on the trail were a couple of ticked off red squirrels and one grouse that scared the heck out of me when she jumped out of the grasses all puffed up and hissing!
As I said before, this is a historic trail, not a particularly scenic one. Yes, the woods are great, but for scenery so many nearby trails offer everything this trail does and so much more. When I do it again, I will probably go back with a light day pack and carry water, lunch and some emergency supplies and just hike in and out in a single day. I would hate to be portaging a canoe in this trail, and not just because of the 8.5 mile distance... It has some very nasty spots for a heavily loaded portage.
Bugs? Not too bad (that being a relative assessment). My picadarin based bug spray lasted precisely 1 hour between sprays. The only time I was overwhelmed by mosquitoes was changing clothes under my tarp during the rain. I encountered a swarm of black flies during a rest at Old Hwy 61. The black flies attacked my navy blue backpack and left me alone however.
The trail needs, and is getting, some maintenance. Yes, I have been on far rougher trail in the BWCA, but they are not usually so washed out as this one is.
One disappointment would be the inaccurate signage from the Park Service. Nothing that would cause a safety or navigational issue though. Two examples would be 1) the trail length at both ends is listed as 8.5 miles. The distance given from the fur post to Old Hwy 61 is 3.7 miles, and from Fort Charlotte to Old Hwy 61 is given as 4.0 miles. It is about 80 yards crossing the road at Old Hwy 61, leaving a mysterious 8/10 of a mile missing somewhere. 2) at Old Hwy 61 heading to Fort Charlotte the sign gives mileage to the next road crossing and is off by 2 or 3 miles. Like I said, not a safety concern, and there is little chance of losing the trail anywhere along the way... just wondering why they are so inaccurate.
Being a bit of a history buff, I enjoyed the experience. I've always wanted to hike the Grand Portage, and with my measly 40 pound pack, a maintained trail, and better bug control through chemicals, it was challenging enough. I can't imagine what it must have been like lugging 100Lb packs across in the 17-1800s!
For one that has traveled a few trails in Northern Minnesota, it is a decent one to add to the list. If you only get to choose one trail however, this is not the one. Go hit the Superior Hiking Trail or the Border Route Trail instead. If you are a canoeist, think twice before portaging this trail. I understand the desire to do the Voyageur route, but this trail is a challenging portage.
Tuesday, June 30, 2015
Woodland Caribou 2014
Fair warning
1) This report is incomplete and unedited. I am posting it as is because I need the posting for another "work" project.
2) It may sound somewhat negative at times, but fellow wilderness travelers will understand. It is all part of the magic of wilderness camping.
This report has been really difficult for me to write. I've made a few attempts that just were no good in my opinion, and deleted them. Then a few days ago I realized the reason I could not write the report is that the trip wasn't over for me yet.
For 27 years I have had a demanding job. Long odd hours, a decent amount of physical exertion, lots of responsibility. Very little pay. I work a lot of hours, and am still on call the rest of the time. I always try to escape for a few days canoeing every summer. I have to. And last year I didn't. And so as the need for a paddle in my hand instead of a phone got stronger, I started lurking at bwca.com. And one day stumbled across a trip report from hobbydog.
http://www.bwca.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=trip.report_view&sel_trp_id=3678
His trip report is what got me thinking of going to Woodland Caribou Provincial Park. I had never heard of WCPP before, or more accurately, I had never before paid attention when WCPP was mentioned. And so it was that bit by bit a passing interest in WCPP became a burning desire to go. I never could tell if it was the excitement of a new place to explore, or if it was the insane need to just go ANYWHERE my cell phone would not work.
Early on the question became "who" would I get to take the trip with me. Quite a few were interested but for various reasons and through a series of plot twits our crew consisted of myself, "Fritz" a part time employee of mine prior to the trip, and his friend "Moose" who I met just twice before we left for a week in the woods together.
As the trip approached, I checked my gear, checked it twice, checked it again. More for fun than a need to make sure it was still working. Lighting off fire starters in the garage at 3a.m. to see if they worked. Dumb, but fun. And training was as good an excuse as any to get in a few hikes.
As spring set in, plans started firming up, schedules set, reservations made. Fritz was a part time employee at my shop so we started talking gear a couple times a week. I gave him a pretty extensive list, even down to sources to save money. It didn't matter how much I stressed certain features, Fritz and Moose just kept thinking of gear in car camping terms. At this stage of the planning, my son was still planing to go on the trip. That was a relief as he is a strong canoeist, and an even better wilderness camper, and my rookies were worrying me a bit.
Finally I met Moose, and I walked Fritz and Moose through gear for the trip from start to finish. A couple times in the summer we did a practice paddle on a local lake. I found I could still handle a canoe, and discovered my trip-mates... well, not so much. Most galling was as I was demonstrating the proper single man lift for the canoe, Moose grabs the park issue aluminum canoe above his head with seemingly no effort. Balances it on one hand, spins it over his head, and otherwise makes me feel altogether too weak and too old to go canoeing. It was only through the wisdom of folks on bwca.com that I came to accept my role as the wise elder and smile because I had a first class Sherpa for the trip!
We decided on a route, and it quickly became clear to me that I was shelling out a fair amount of cash on maps that (to me) would be almost worthless. It is amazing to me that there is not a source for quality maps of the park like there is for the BWCA and Quetico. So, I set to work on making my own maps. While the park lacks good maps, the Canadian government is nice enough to make available topo maps for free online through multiple sources.
I downloaded 40 some PDFs, stitched them in Photoshop by hand, and colored them "by hand" so they would be more readable for me. For portage and campsite information I used the park website for campsites and the color park map for portages, then I scavenged GPS files from a few people to fill in some blanks. I had the map split into 11x17 sheets and coated with Mapseal. All in all I was very happy with the results. A couple actual campsites were a bit off from the location on my map. Several campsites were less than desirable, but anywhere I had a site marked there was a campsite nearby. What was more frequent were great campsites that were not on any maps I had seen.
The only thing that really bugged me was the scale of the contour lines. At one point during the trip I had taken us off course. What made navigation sometimes challenging is that the contour lines of the Canadian topos show a 10m (or 30ft) elevation change. 10 meters is a LOT of elevation. I substantial bluff of 29 ft is no different on the map than a swamp.
Well, enough about the prep. On to the trip!
At 4P.M. August 5th, 2014 we set off from south of the Twin Cities. Destination? Red Lake, Ontario and Woodland Caribou Provincial Park. We drove through the night to reach Red Lake before our 8a.m. shuttle the next morning. With our budget, and considering it would only be a couple hours anyway, we decided not to stay in a hotel.
We drove all night, expecting to take shifts and a nice 3 or 4 hour nap in the outfitter's parking lot. Best laid plans and all that... I tried sleeping for the first leg of the trip, but no luck. I took over driving in Cloquet.
We pulled up to the Canadian border check near 11pm, handed over our passports, and were promptly directed to the area designated for further examination. One of our number had a unique passport situation that does not need explaining here, but did require some explanation before we were allowed to cross to Canada. After waiting about a half hour (I have no idea for what as there were 5 or 6 agents and we were the only "customers".) Fritz was taken for a private interview, and Moose and I were summoned to a window to chat with another border agent. We were obviously a mismatched group and so she inquired how we all knew each other. She had a reaction of amazement when I revealed that Fritz had been an employee of mine but had left my employment just a few days before the trip.
Her reaction to that was nothing compared to her reaction when she asked where we were spending the night. I told her we were driving strait through to Red Lake. She looked at us like we were insane, gained her composure and said "Lots of wildlife on the roads at night, Eh?" Fortunately she was not insulted when I burst out laughing, nor when I explained the reason... Here we were not even admitted into Canada and already got our first "Eh?"
Well we were finally admitted to Canada, and promptly got lost in Fort Francis. The roads were not well marked. We followed the only sign pointing to 11 East, only to find that the 2nd sign to get us on track was missing/hidden. Eventually we corrected the situation and we soon looking for the turn off to 502.
We turned on to 502 and there was another car at the stop sign headed to Fort Francis. It was the last vehicle we would see for the next 3 hours until we reached Dryden (As far as I can tell it is the longest time I have spent on any road without another vehicle) We did spot lots of wildlife. Our first was what we agree by our visual had to be a wolf. To large to be a coyote, but the fact that we saw it along the road makes us doubt it was a wolf. Another sighting was of what we all identified as a lynx. But again, the thought of spotting one along the road just seemed too strange to us. The one to which there is no doubt was the big cow moose. She was in the middle of the road and in no hurry to let us pass. Shocking to me is that she seemed to have no worry about our vehicle at all. She just stood there in the middle of the road and gave us an annoyed look. After a couple minute staring contest she moved off to the shoulder and we proceeded on our way.
We arrived at Red Lake Outfitters about 3 a.m., parked, and tried to get some sleep in the van. Didn't work out. By 4:30 we were all sore, tired and cranky. The irony of the situation was that the last hour of the drive I had worked desperately to keep awake since I was driving, that became important. Now as soon as we stopped, I could not get to sleep. We agreed to head over to the Tim Horton's for some food and caffeine. It was the first doughnut shop I've ever seen completely devoid of doughnuts. I got some sandwich of dubious quality with a microwaved egg like substance and choked it down.
As the sun came up, we were back in the Red Lake Outfitter's parking lot. I wasn't feeling too hot. 24 hours of no sleep, a 600 mile drive, and a really bad breakfast. The mood however changed when a pickup pulled up and a man and dog got out. At least we had someone to talk to. Turns out he was going to share the shuttle with us, and even better, he had been to WCPP many times and was sharing some wisdom with us. What scared the heck out of me was the fact he was already dressed in his bug shirt.
Soon enough, Harlan pulled up and things got rolling. Soon we were on the road headed for Leano. We talked a while with our fellow passenger, as interesting as he was, I soon found myself drifting off. I slept for about an hour on the drive to the access. I awoke with the other passenger's black lab Birch staring at me from about a half an inch away.
We portaged our gear from the parking lot to the lake. As we got ready to push off I realized one really dumb thing... None of us had thought to fill up our water when we had access to running water. SO... we spent our first few minutes in WCPP filtering water. As it turns out that gave the other passenger and his dog time to catch up. It was just then I thought to ask if he was on bwca.com, and yes he was! (Hi oldzip!) Then his dog suddenly decided he wanted to join our group and attempted to jump into our canoe! I almost wish he had succeeded. That dog had such a joyful personality!
(Now, in defense of Oldzip and Birch. Birch was a young and enthusiastic black lab. It was obvious that he was being trained well and was mostly obedient. I fear the problem was we encouraged poor Birch to misbehave, and being a pup he needed little encouragement.)
As we set off on Leano Lake in earnest, I quickly realized that I should have brought a different paddle. The combination of a 3 man canoe, 2 rookies, a new and different paddle than I was used to, and the fact I was a bit out of practice made controlling the canoe a bit more work than it should have been. We paddled on and soon came to our first obstacle, the beaver damn between Leano and Bunny.
I suppose now is as good a time as any to remind the reader that I had had a total of an hour sleep in the last 30 hours. Crossing over the beaver damn was a challenge. We struggled, slipped, slopped in mud, cursed... I was seriously having doubts about my choice to come here.
Our first portage into Bunny was 60 rods (300 meters). The landing was rocky and slippery. A grabbed my pack (about 20-25 lbs) and as I hoisted the canoe I lost my footing and turtled into the lake. Fritz yanked me out of the water, I hoisted the canoe and off we went. About 30 feet from the end of the portage, I slipped again and fell. We decided to stop for lunch.
As we set off again, we were feeling a bit better for the rest. But it did not last long. I don't remember if it was the 2nd or 3rd portage... and in my defense, I consulted my journal and even that night I couldn't remember which one it was... Anyway, I caught my foot under a rock, slipped, fell, and tore a large chunk out of my shin.
Our fourth and final portage of the day looked pretty strait forward on the maps, but was a bit challenging. There were multiple trails, and none really great. We set back in the water and paddled about 20 feet when our progress was halted by a lot of dead-fall. Once past that a narrow channel led into the next lake. It is unnamed on my maps, but it is the lake directly south of East Lunch Lake.
We had planned to go farther, but there was a site Harlan recommended and we had had enough for one day. It took some time to set up camp. Moose and Fritz took a pad for their tent, and I struggled to find a good spot to hang my hammock. It was my first time deploying a hammock on the trail. As I started to cook dinner (The traditional steak dinner of course), Fritz and Moose did some fishing. The pulled in a couple small Northerns. My feelings on the trail were summed up in my journal entry where I stated "Worst day canoeing -ever-."
After 36 hours with virtually no sleep, we all hit the hay early, long before sunset.
--------------------------
Day 2 started for me in a way intended to make day 1 look like a good day. Lets say that sometime before first light I learned I had "stomach issues". I spent a fair amount of time exploring the woods near our campsite.
We had Breakfast Burritos to start our day and broke camp. Fritz and Moose were a bit surprised to discover I had no intention of repacking the gear packs. Both had stated they wanted to learn to take trips like this themselves. Efficiently packing your gear every day is a skill they needed to learn.
I honestly remember very little of that day's paddling. 10 portages. Hot. Our goal was the same as almost every other trip report I've read of the same route. The falls at Mexican Hat. We were performing better than the day before, but we were still tired. In my journal I complained for pages about many petty things that went on that day. More on that later...
I had read about the portage being moved, had read another report of the new portage being blocked, etc. So we were prepared for the worst. Not to worry. The most confusing part was the park marking the new portage as 2 separate portages. This is deceptive because you simply walk across the stream of water. If the water was high enough where you could not walk across it, there would be no way to cross it safely in a canoe.
As we emerged from the end of the portage, we were dismayed to see the campsite occupied. I think the occupants of the campsite were offended at our crossing their path. Even our friendly wave was ignored.
We had all 3 looked forward to fishing by the falls, but the combination of the campsite occupants looking angry and the threat of some weather motivated us to press on and find a campsite. After a short exploration of the falls, and time to snack on a few Blueberries, we set off for a site on the north end of Mexican Hat.
As we cruised toward our site, we spotted a beautiful sandy beach for landing our canoe. It was encouraging to see a positive sign for the campsite. We were paddling with a stiff wind, and turning around to face it and find another site was not an appealing prospect. The sandy beach turned into a short hike up to the actual campsite. It was a large site, perfect for a large group or any legal group size with tent pads to spare. Unfortunately it was not well sheltered from the wind whipping in off the lake.
We quickly set up our tarp, lugged our gear up from the canoes, and then the rain set in. Believe it or not, the rain was the first positive change on the trip. The rain cooled the air. We were snug under a well hung and secure tarp. When I was thirsty, all I needed to do was tug the tarp a bit and my bottle was filled with fresh cool water!
You can see how strong the wind was in the rainbow picture. Notice the pant leg hanging on the line...
Dinner was Garlic Parmesan Quinoa with some dehydrated broccoli, carrots and some chunks of Canadian Bacon tossed in. We were eating well, but it was apparent I was used to packing food for larger groups and teenagers. We were more than full on one part of a 3 part meal. I still had not made a dessert.
Fritz and Moose turned in early, and I enjoyed the solitude. The wind died down, and the mosquitoes came out. It is significant to mention because it was the one and only time on our trip that I found mosquitoes to be an issue. One of the few times I noticed them at all.
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Day 3 started early. We wanted to beat the wind for the paddle out of our campsite. We were hoping for a short day of paddling, and some good fishing for Fritz and Moose and nap time for me.
Moose had picked some blueberries for our pancakes. I was really happy with the performance of our Bisquick gluten free pancake mix. I had pre-measured the powdered egg at home. They were fluffy and firm. However they were not exactly pancakes in my book. The Blueberries made them fantastic! Add some dry cure bacon and maple syrup I had tapped and boiled in the spring, and we had a filling breakfast without too much cleanup. (Real maple syrup is real strong. You don't use enough to make the plates all sticky) We had collected some extra trash at this site, some yellow plastic tent stakes, nails, rope, and a few bits of plastic.
We broke camp, said goodbye to our sandy beach, And set off to the west. Our plan was cross the beaver dam, one long portage (we had been warned), and a short portage, then camp and fish.
I apologize for not having a better picture of the dam. By the time we got up to the dam all we were thinking about was how to get over it. I admit that back on Leano was the first time I had ever taken a canoe over a beaver dam, we didn't do well on that little bump, and this dam was 4 ft high. We made a plan, and I stepped out of the canoe into knee deep beaver muck. Really good for my ripped shin. Without too much difficulty we crossed over the dam and followed a nice channel into Nutria Lake. I was relieved as I had read other trip reports where this area presented some challenges.
As we drifted into Nutria Lake, I decided to check my map. It was then that Moose and Fritz sighted a caribou. By the time they got my attention, she had scurried off into the woods. "Well Poo!" I exclaimed. I knew the odds were not in our favor of seeing a caribou, and here I missed it.
I would utter "oh poo" and "you gotta be kidding me" a few more times this day. I was kinda ticked as I had now missed 2 of the things I was most looking forward to on this trip. It was getting hot, we were all a bit grumpy.
And so we came to "the" portage of the trip. From Nutria to Amber is a 525 meter (105 rod) portage. Longest portage of the trip, but a nothing distance in my BWCA experience. The trick is that the east end of the portage is waist deep in muck. Try as you might to avoid the muck it still sucks you in, and just when you least expect it. We were lucky though. It wasn't near as muddy as it could have been. Once we passed the muck at the beginning of the portage it was pretty easy going the rest of the way. We double portaged, and it took us almost an hour total, we were in high spirits.
One more short portage and we were on Streak where we had planned to camp at a site near the portage. I had the site mapped on the south side of the lake directly across from the portage to Wrist. There were a couple spots that could be campsites if one were desperate. Then we spotted a fire ring on a rocky point across the lake, but it was not going to work for us.
Morale for our group was pretty low at this point. Each for our own reasons. We argued a bit about how to proceed and agreed to land at the portage where Fritz and Moose would do some fishing for an hour then have lunch and move on.
What I still marvel at is right there along the portage is a really nice campsite. My companions never once mentioned it, even though they wanted the short day. As nice as the site was, there was just something about camping along a portage that didn't feel right to me at the time. In retrospect we probably should have stopped there and set up camp... but we didn't.
Two hours later they returned from fishing, we grabbed a quick trail lunch and set off again. I had spent the time exploring around the portage. There were plentiful blueberries for snacking, beautiful falls, a sandy beach (with moose tracks). I swear I took lots of pictures, but I have very few.
Since we are on day 3, I think it is fair to talk of the group mood at this point. Moose was the kind of guy that takes everything in stride. He had very few complaints, and while a rookie, he was a quick learner.
Fritz was clearly out of his element. Sure, you have goals and plans for a trip, but ultimately you have to learn to just take what the trip gives you. There is no Motel 6 with a light on for you at each lake. Fritz was a bit put out anytime something wavered from "the plan". To make matters worse, he had lost a big fish during their fishing stop and was pouting about it for hours.
Me? While I'd like to say I was perfect, I wasn't. Fritz irritated me to the point of anger several times. At the same time I think it was bothering me because I had wanted them to have the trip of a lifetime, and we just weren't felling a lot of joy. It wasn't that we were having a -bad- time, just not really having a good time. My shin wasn't helping either....
We argued about and passed a campsite on Aegean Creek, and moved on to Aegean Lake. Harlan had pointed out a site on the southern end of an island along the east side of the lake. We swung around the island and landed further south than we had expected. We found a campsite with a nice fire area and a couple good tent pads. When I explored a bit, I found another fire ring about 50 feet away on the other side of the point.
It was another hot windy afternoon. We were off the water and in camp by 2 pm. We should not have been as tired and grumpy as we were. We set up camp silently and each went and sought some solitude for the afternoon.
I cooked up some Chicken Alfredo from a mix. Burned it, I just wasn't too happy with it, and had way too much. Fritz and Moose devoured it all though, and complimented me on the meal. I filled myself with homemade tootsie rolls and home made beef jerky.
Food made for a general change in mood. We built the cooking fire up a bit into a camp fire and sat around it quietly. It was strange that even on such a hot evening, a fire would still be such a comfort. As we sat there we heard some howling off in the distance. We all turned in as the last light of the sun disappeared from the sky.
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Day 4... The turn.
We rose before the sun, packed up camp and headed out for a short day. Our destination was a site Harlan had recommended on South Aegean across from the pictographs.
We set off on mirror smooth water and paddled casually to the south end of the lake. About a quarter mile before the portage we passed a couple in a canoe headed the opposite direction. We exchanged a quick hello and kept paddling.
Before the portage was visible, we headed to a couple different "false" landings. We spotted the real portage landing and put ashore. If only every portage were exactly like this portage between Aegean and South Aegean! Short (20 rods), flat, wide, beaten dirt and no rocks to trip you or twist an ankle. Easy landings on both ends.
As we pushed off onto the lake, the wind started to pick up directly in our faces. The combination of effort to keep strait in the wind and the abundance of islands large and small led to some confusion in my navigation. We pulled into a sheltered cove to get out of the wind and check my map. We had traveled farther than I thought, but thankfully still on course. We headed off to the east (and out of the wind) towards the pictographs.
My luck in finding pictographs is mixed. Even knowing where to look I often miss them, so I was pleased as we pulled right up to the pictographs. Right there on a flat rock face was a moose and an arrow. We speculated a bit and decided since these waters were the prehistoric freeway, this must be the equivalent of a "food next exit" sign. We left some tobacco on the rock, and crossed the channel to the site Harlan had pointed out.
The site had some very neat boulders dropped by the glaciers. There were quite a few downed trees, a couple right across the fire pit, some covering tent pads. We probably could have cleaned it up, but this was a short day. We backtracked to a site we has spotted a couple hundred yards back.
The site we chose was on a point just west of the pictographs. It offered a well sheltered tent pad and a decent place for me to hang my hammock. The fire was situated next to a nice large rock that offered many places for sitting and for setting up a cooking area.
We were landed in camp sometime around 10:30 am. We set up and enjoyed a leisurely lunch. Fritz and moose set out fishing, I climbed into my hammock for a long awaited nap. The breeze off the lake kept me cool and made for a gentle push to swing the hammock and rock me to sleep.
Fritz and Moose came back with 3 nice sized Northerns for dinner. We filleted the fish and wrapped them in foil with some ghee and set them over the fire. We had some fry pan bread, corn and potatoes to accompany the fresh fish.
As we ate, a pair of loons settled in the lake by our campsite. Very soon they were joined by a third loon, and the evening's entertainment started. The pair went after the third with a series of calls and displays. Then a fourth loon joined and so the third was accepted and the trio went after the fourth. But this was not the end. The process repeated itself through the evening as the quartet became a quintet, then a sextet. The seventh loon to arrive was driven off before sunset and a chorus of loon calls lulled us to sleep that night. The 'curse' had lifted. We all had a great day.
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Day 5 I was awoken about 3 a.m. as one of the tie downs on my fly was cut by the stone it was tied to. The wind was whipping up, and a storm was on the way. I went around camp to double check everything was buttoned down, and crawled back into my hammock. The storm passed around us giving us little more than a stiff wind and a light sprinkle of rain. By 4 a.m. I was back out of my hammock and getting breakfast ready.
The sun was still low in the sky as we hit the water. I mention this as the glare of the sun and the reflection off the water all but blinded me as we set off. We were obviously rested, and 4 days of practice paddling meant we were moving quicker than I had grown accustomed to. This all added up to my worst navigational error of the trip. We ended up looping back to the west when we should have veered to the north, and came to a dead end about a mile off course. We quickly corrected and found our portage next to some rapids. I imagine this portage would be pretty difficult during high water as the landing was right next to the rapids.
A couple easy portages and we were on Paull Lake. The "Adventure Map" shows the canoe route going south and through 2 portages just to stay on Paull. Yeah. Right. We kept to the north and stayed on Paull, no portages. This was a beautiful section of water! We did not put ashore to check them out, but there were several campsites that looked fantastic from the water.
A very short backtrack towards the portages we avoided and we were at the pictographs on Paull. Much harder to spot than the ones on S Aegean had been. Fritz make some sketches in his journal, and we were off again.
About a mile or so east of the pictographs we spotted a canoe on shore. Judging by the color, we think it was Oldzip, but we did not want to disturb anyone so we passed by quietly. Another half mile past that we came to a campsite on an island that was our original destination for the day. It was only 10ish and we were all still feeling pretty fresh. So we landed at the site and decided to have lunch before discussing our next move.
This site deserves a bit of description before our story continues. The landing for the site is situated on a small channel between 2 islands. A gentle climb brings you up on top of the island where the campsite is situated 20-30 feet above the lake. As you can see from the photo (looking off to the west) the view is fantastic. There is easily room for even the largest group here. The negative is that the site is also obviously heavily used. Many trees near the fire ring had been stripped of bark, and I picked up a lot of trash, including 2 rusty fire grates that had been left behind.
After lunch and a good rest, we decided none of us were ready to stop. Problem was that judging by the map if we didn't stop here, we would have a fair amount of travel before our next good stopping point. But for the first time we all three agreed on a plan of travel without objection, so off we went.
A series of 5 portages separates Paull from Elephant Head Lake. One of the short 14 rod portages runs at a 30 degree slant over smooth rock. It took a fair amount of care to avoid a twisted ankle. About half way we spied a campsite on the north side that was not on my maps, and along the south side we spied a waterfall. A quick glance at the map revealed a lake up at the top of the falls, but Fritz was already getting grumpy from the additional travel, so we left it
We came to the 200 meter portage at the end of a channel through wild rice. This portage had a bit of everything. Mud to suck your boots off, rocks and roots to twist the ankle, dead fall to ram the canoe into while carrying. And yet, not too challenging. It just took some extra time, and a little bit of saw work.
We emerged from the last portage and had a very short paddle to our goal campsite on a small island strait out from the portage on Elephant Head Lake. This time Moose got out to explore the campsite while Fritz and waited in the canoe. I was glad we delegated to Moose the task of selecting the site. Fritz and I had experienced a bit of friction over campsite choices. I was picky, and he... wasn't so picky, he just wanted to stop.
So off we went hoping to snag the next site up to the north. One quick bonus unmapped beaver obstacle to lift over, and we were at the site in no time. And just as well. Fritz had been pouting, and I was getting on edge. These things happen on trips. I've seen it with scouts, church groups, friends and family. It was a hard day, and to be fair, Fritz had not had much luck fishing, and fishing was why he came.
The site was not great, but it was decent. If I were going solo, it would be an ideal site. 1 or 2 quality tent pads, but only one decent spot for a hammock. Lots of trees were down from weather and beavers surrounding the camp. We set up and settled in for a layover day.
If you would, indulge me as I ramble a bit more about trail-group dynamics. I've taken a trip or two in the wilderness, and with many different people. There is usually friction when a small group of people thrust themselves into such a different setting. I've described a fair amount of tension on this trip. There were differing expectations, and there was the rookie factor. This was a pretty challenging trip for the rookies I was with. Even though there was dissent amongst us, we did work as a team, and we really did get along.
We set up camp, Fritz and Moose went fishing, I settled in for a nap.
Dinner was boxed Julianne Potatoes with bits of Canadian Bacon and re-hydrated veggies thrown in. Tasty and filling.
With bellies full, we started joking and washing dishes. We were making a fair bit of noise, so it was surprising that then was when we saw the caribou.
It was incredible. The caribou just stood there across the lake for 10 or 15 minutes. We watched until it slowly retreated back into the woods.
But it was somewhere in that 10 - 15 minutes that everything changed for me. It was then and there that I realized fully that I just needed to change my career and my life. I needed new and different challenges. I knew it, but yet did not really fully understand it until that moment. I resolved to sell my business and go back to school, earn my degree, and start a new career.
It was a tad chilly in the hammock at first, but deploying the space blanket made it quite cozy.
Day 6, layover day, Elephant Head Lake.
From my journal, "It's all fine with me. This is a pretty campsite. I've been able to nap, do some reading, some thinking, some relaxing, and just plain rest. I miss my family, and I miss running water, and that's it." And later, "I knew I needed to break away for a while, But I needed this even more than I realized. It's like a mental massage. I need a shower." (Obviously my thoughts had shifted!)
At our fire we had an owl make dozens of passes close overhead, had a full bright moon, and a meteor shower. Very cool.
Day 7. Last full day.
Woke up from a nightmare of Fritz attacking me in my hammock with a knife. It took a minute to realize it was just a dream. It did however get me out of my hammock and wide awake in a hurry.
Before I could dress, it started to rain, so I decided to crawl back into my hammock. I started to adjust, and sensed my hammock sagging. I got out in record time, and noticed the trees I was hanging from were definitely tipping. With no hammock to sit in, and the rain falling, I sat under the tarp and read my book for a couple hours. At some point my trip-mates scrambled out of their tent to place the rain fly on the tent. Despite my advice, they had left it packed up. Now all their gear was wet.
Eventually, I got breakfast going. Blueberry pancakes. Hit the water at 8:30 a gentle breeze at our backs. Crossed a bonus dam ol dam, and got buzzed by a flock of loons on Bootjack Lake. Well rested, we made good time, and before you know it, we were on Bunny.
1) This report is incomplete and unedited. I am posting it as is because I need the posting for another "work" project.
2) It may sound somewhat negative at times, but fellow wilderness travelers will understand. It is all part of the magic of wilderness camping.
This report has been really difficult for me to write. I've made a few attempts that just were no good in my opinion, and deleted them. Then a few days ago I realized the reason I could not write the report is that the trip wasn't over for me yet.
For 27 years I have had a demanding job. Long odd hours, a decent amount of physical exertion, lots of responsibility. Very little pay. I work a lot of hours, and am still on call the rest of the time. I always try to escape for a few days canoeing every summer. I have to. And last year I didn't. And so as the need for a paddle in my hand instead of a phone got stronger, I started lurking at bwca.com. And one day stumbled across a trip report from hobbydog.
http://www.bwca.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=trip.report_view&sel_trp_id=3678
His trip report is what got me thinking of going to Woodland Caribou Provincial Park. I had never heard of WCPP before, or more accurately, I had never before paid attention when WCPP was mentioned. And so it was that bit by bit a passing interest in WCPP became a burning desire to go. I never could tell if it was the excitement of a new place to explore, or if it was the insane need to just go ANYWHERE my cell phone would not work.
Early on the question became "who" would I get to take the trip with me. Quite a few were interested but for various reasons and through a series of plot twits our crew consisted of myself, "Fritz" a part time employee of mine prior to the trip, and his friend "Moose" who I met just twice before we left for a week in the woods together.
As the trip approached, I checked my gear, checked it twice, checked it again. More for fun than a need to make sure it was still working. Lighting off fire starters in the garage at 3a.m. to see if they worked. Dumb, but fun. And training was as good an excuse as any to get in a few hikes.
As spring set in, plans started firming up, schedules set, reservations made. Fritz was a part time employee at my shop so we started talking gear a couple times a week. I gave him a pretty extensive list, even down to sources to save money. It didn't matter how much I stressed certain features, Fritz and Moose just kept thinking of gear in car camping terms. At this stage of the planning, my son was still planing to go on the trip. That was a relief as he is a strong canoeist, and an even better wilderness camper, and my rookies were worrying me a bit.
Finally I met Moose, and I walked Fritz and Moose through gear for the trip from start to finish. A couple times in the summer we did a practice paddle on a local lake. I found I could still handle a canoe, and discovered my trip-mates... well, not so much. Most galling was as I was demonstrating the proper single man lift for the canoe, Moose grabs the park issue aluminum canoe above his head with seemingly no effort. Balances it on one hand, spins it over his head, and otherwise makes me feel altogether too weak and too old to go canoeing. It was only through the wisdom of folks on bwca.com that I came to accept my role as the wise elder and smile because I had a first class Sherpa for the trip!
We decided on a route, and it quickly became clear to me that I was shelling out a fair amount of cash on maps that (to me) would be almost worthless. It is amazing to me that there is not a source for quality maps of the park like there is for the BWCA and Quetico. So, I set to work on making my own maps. While the park lacks good maps, the Canadian government is nice enough to make available topo maps for free online through multiple sources.
I downloaded 40 some PDFs, stitched them in Photoshop by hand, and colored them "by hand" so they would be more readable for me. For portage and campsite information I used the park website for campsites and the color park map for portages, then I scavenged GPS files from a few people to fill in some blanks. I had the map split into 11x17 sheets and coated with Mapseal. All in all I was very happy with the results. A couple actual campsites were a bit off from the location on my map. Several campsites were less than desirable, but anywhere I had a site marked there was a campsite nearby. What was more frequent were great campsites that were not on any maps I had seen.
The only thing that really bugged me was the scale of the contour lines. At one point during the trip I had taken us off course. What made navigation sometimes challenging is that the contour lines of the Canadian topos show a 10m (or 30ft) elevation change. 10 meters is a LOT of elevation. I substantial bluff of 29 ft is no different on the map than a swamp.
Well, enough about the prep. On to the trip!
At 4P.M. August 5th, 2014 we set off from south of the Twin Cities. Destination? Red Lake, Ontario and Woodland Caribou Provincial Park. We drove through the night to reach Red Lake before our 8a.m. shuttle the next morning. With our budget, and considering it would only be a couple hours anyway, we decided not to stay in a hotel.
We drove all night, expecting to take shifts and a nice 3 or 4 hour nap in the outfitter's parking lot. Best laid plans and all that... I tried sleeping for the first leg of the trip, but no luck. I took over driving in Cloquet.
We pulled up to the Canadian border check near 11pm, handed over our passports, and were promptly directed to the area designated for further examination. One of our number had a unique passport situation that does not need explaining here, but did require some explanation before we were allowed to cross to Canada. After waiting about a half hour (I have no idea for what as there were 5 or 6 agents and we were the only "customers".) Fritz was taken for a private interview, and Moose and I were summoned to a window to chat with another border agent. We were obviously a mismatched group and so she inquired how we all knew each other. She had a reaction of amazement when I revealed that Fritz had been an employee of mine but had left my employment just a few days before the trip.
Her reaction to that was nothing compared to her reaction when she asked where we were spending the night. I told her we were driving strait through to Red Lake. She looked at us like we were insane, gained her composure and said "Lots of wildlife on the roads at night, Eh?" Fortunately she was not insulted when I burst out laughing, nor when I explained the reason... Here we were not even admitted into Canada and already got our first "Eh?"
Well we were finally admitted to Canada, and promptly got lost in Fort Francis. The roads were not well marked. We followed the only sign pointing to 11 East, only to find that the 2nd sign to get us on track was missing/hidden. Eventually we corrected the situation and we soon looking for the turn off to 502.
We turned on to 502 and there was another car at the stop sign headed to Fort Francis. It was the last vehicle we would see for the next 3 hours until we reached Dryden (As far as I can tell it is the longest time I have spent on any road without another vehicle) We did spot lots of wildlife. Our first was what we agree by our visual had to be a wolf. To large to be a coyote, but the fact that we saw it along the road makes us doubt it was a wolf. Another sighting was of what we all identified as a lynx. But again, the thought of spotting one along the road just seemed too strange to us. The one to which there is no doubt was the big cow moose. She was in the middle of the road and in no hurry to let us pass. Shocking to me is that she seemed to have no worry about our vehicle at all. She just stood there in the middle of the road and gave us an annoyed look. After a couple minute staring contest she moved off to the shoulder and we proceeded on our way.
We arrived at Red Lake Outfitters about 3 a.m., parked, and tried to get some sleep in the van. Didn't work out. By 4:30 we were all sore, tired and cranky. The irony of the situation was that the last hour of the drive I had worked desperately to keep awake since I was driving, that became important. Now as soon as we stopped, I could not get to sleep. We agreed to head over to the Tim Horton's for some food and caffeine. It was the first doughnut shop I've ever seen completely devoid of doughnuts. I got some sandwich of dubious quality with a microwaved egg like substance and choked it down.
As the sun came up, we were back in the Red Lake Outfitter's parking lot. I wasn't feeling too hot. 24 hours of no sleep, a 600 mile drive, and a really bad breakfast. The mood however changed when a pickup pulled up and a man and dog got out. At least we had someone to talk to. Turns out he was going to share the shuttle with us, and even better, he had been to WCPP many times and was sharing some wisdom with us. What scared the heck out of me was the fact he was already dressed in his bug shirt.
Soon enough, Harlan pulled up and things got rolling. Soon we were on the road headed for Leano. We talked a while with our fellow passenger, as interesting as he was, I soon found myself drifting off. I slept for about an hour on the drive to the access. I awoke with the other passenger's black lab Birch staring at me from about a half an inch away.
We portaged our gear from the parking lot to the lake. As we got ready to push off I realized one really dumb thing... None of us had thought to fill up our water when we had access to running water. SO... we spent our first few minutes in WCPP filtering water. As it turns out that gave the other passenger and his dog time to catch up. It was just then I thought to ask if he was on bwca.com, and yes he was! (Hi oldzip!) Then his dog suddenly decided he wanted to join our group and attempted to jump into our canoe! I almost wish he had succeeded. That dog had such a joyful personality!
(Now, in defense of Oldzip and Birch. Birch was a young and enthusiastic black lab. It was obvious that he was being trained well and was mostly obedient. I fear the problem was we encouraged poor Birch to misbehave, and being a pup he needed little encouragement.)
As we set off on Leano Lake in earnest, I quickly realized that I should have brought a different paddle. The combination of a 3 man canoe, 2 rookies, a new and different paddle than I was used to, and the fact I was a bit out of practice made controlling the canoe a bit more work than it should have been. We paddled on and soon came to our first obstacle, the beaver damn between Leano and Bunny.
I suppose now is as good a time as any to remind the reader that I had had a total of an hour sleep in the last 30 hours. Crossing over the beaver damn was a challenge. We struggled, slipped, slopped in mud, cursed... I was seriously having doubts about my choice to come here.
Our first portage into Bunny was 60 rods (300 meters). The landing was rocky and slippery. A grabbed my pack (about 20-25 lbs) and as I hoisted the canoe I lost my footing and turtled into the lake. Fritz yanked me out of the water, I hoisted the canoe and off we went. About 30 feet from the end of the portage, I slipped again and fell. We decided to stop for lunch.
As we set off again, we were feeling a bit better for the rest. But it did not last long. I don't remember if it was the 2nd or 3rd portage... and in my defense, I consulted my journal and even that night I couldn't remember which one it was... Anyway, I caught my foot under a rock, slipped, fell, and tore a large chunk out of my shin.
Our fourth and final portage of the day looked pretty strait forward on the maps, but was a bit challenging. There were multiple trails, and none really great. We set back in the water and paddled about 20 feet when our progress was halted by a lot of dead-fall. Once past that a narrow channel led into the next lake. It is unnamed on my maps, but it is the lake directly south of East Lunch Lake.
We had planned to go farther, but there was a site Harlan recommended and we had had enough for one day. It took some time to set up camp. Moose and Fritz took a pad for their tent, and I struggled to find a good spot to hang my hammock. It was my first time deploying a hammock on the trail. As I started to cook dinner (The traditional steak dinner of course), Fritz and Moose did some fishing. The pulled in a couple small Northerns. My feelings on the trail were summed up in my journal entry where I stated "Worst day canoeing -ever-."
After 36 hours with virtually no sleep, we all hit the hay early, long before sunset.
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Day 2 started for me in a way intended to make day 1 look like a good day. Lets say that sometime before first light I learned I had "stomach issues". I spent a fair amount of time exploring the woods near our campsite.
We had Breakfast Burritos to start our day and broke camp. Fritz and Moose were a bit surprised to discover I had no intention of repacking the gear packs. Both had stated they wanted to learn to take trips like this themselves. Efficiently packing your gear every day is a skill they needed to learn.
I honestly remember very little of that day's paddling. 10 portages. Hot. Our goal was the same as almost every other trip report I've read of the same route. The falls at Mexican Hat. We were performing better than the day before, but we were still tired. In my journal I complained for pages about many petty things that went on that day. More on that later...
I had read about the portage being moved, had read another report of the new portage being blocked, etc. So we were prepared for the worst. Not to worry. The most confusing part was the park marking the new portage as 2 separate portages. This is deceptive because you simply walk across the stream of water. If the water was high enough where you could not walk across it, there would be no way to cross it safely in a canoe.
As we emerged from the end of the portage, we were dismayed to see the campsite occupied. I think the occupants of the campsite were offended at our crossing their path. Even our friendly wave was ignored.
We had all 3 looked forward to fishing by the falls, but the combination of the campsite occupants looking angry and the threat of some weather motivated us to press on and find a campsite. After a short exploration of the falls, and time to snack on a few Blueberries, we set off for a site on the north end of Mexican Hat.
As we cruised toward our site, we spotted a beautiful sandy beach for landing our canoe. It was encouraging to see a positive sign for the campsite. We were paddling with a stiff wind, and turning around to face it and find another site was not an appealing prospect. The sandy beach turned into a short hike up to the actual campsite. It was a large site, perfect for a large group or any legal group size with tent pads to spare. Unfortunately it was not well sheltered from the wind whipping in off the lake.
We quickly set up our tarp, lugged our gear up from the canoes, and then the rain set in. Believe it or not, the rain was the first positive change on the trip. The rain cooled the air. We were snug under a well hung and secure tarp. When I was thirsty, all I needed to do was tug the tarp a bit and my bottle was filled with fresh cool water!
You can see how strong the wind was in the rainbow picture. Notice the pant leg hanging on the line...
Dinner was Garlic Parmesan Quinoa with some dehydrated broccoli, carrots and some chunks of Canadian Bacon tossed in. We were eating well, but it was apparent I was used to packing food for larger groups and teenagers. We were more than full on one part of a 3 part meal. I still had not made a dessert.
Fritz and Moose turned in early, and I enjoyed the solitude. The wind died down, and the mosquitoes came out. It is significant to mention because it was the one and only time on our trip that I found mosquitoes to be an issue. One of the few times I noticed them at all.
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Day 3 started early. We wanted to beat the wind for the paddle out of our campsite. We were hoping for a short day of paddling, and some good fishing for Fritz and Moose and nap time for me.
Moose had picked some blueberries for our pancakes. I was really happy with the performance of our Bisquick gluten free pancake mix. I had pre-measured the powdered egg at home. They were fluffy and firm. However they were not exactly pancakes in my book. The Blueberries made them fantastic! Add some dry cure bacon and maple syrup I had tapped and boiled in the spring, and we had a filling breakfast without too much cleanup. (Real maple syrup is real strong. You don't use enough to make the plates all sticky) We had collected some extra trash at this site, some yellow plastic tent stakes, nails, rope, and a few bits of plastic.
We broke camp, said goodbye to our sandy beach, And set off to the west. Our plan was cross the beaver dam, one long portage (we had been warned), and a short portage, then camp and fish.
I apologize for not having a better picture of the dam. By the time we got up to the dam all we were thinking about was how to get over it. I admit that back on Leano was the first time I had ever taken a canoe over a beaver dam, we didn't do well on that little bump, and this dam was 4 ft high. We made a plan, and I stepped out of the canoe into knee deep beaver muck. Really good for my ripped shin. Without too much difficulty we crossed over the dam and followed a nice channel into Nutria Lake. I was relieved as I had read other trip reports where this area presented some challenges.
As we drifted into Nutria Lake, I decided to check my map. It was then that Moose and Fritz sighted a caribou. By the time they got my attention, she had scurried off into the woods. "Well Poo!" I exclaimed. I knew the odds were not in our favor of seeing a caribou, and here I missed it.
I would utter "oh poo" and "you gotta be kidding me" a few more times this day. I was kinda ticked as I had now missed 2 of the things I was most looking forward to on this trip. It was getting hot, we were all a bit grumpy.
And so we came to "the" portage of the trip. From Nutria to Amber is a 525 meter (105 rod) portage. Longest portage of the trip, but a nothing distance in my BWCA experience. The trick is that the east end of the portage is waist deep in muck. Try as you might to avoid the muck it still sucks you in, and just when you least expect it. We were lucky though. It wasn't near as muddy as it could have been. Once we passed the muck at the beginning of the portage it was pretty easy going the rest of the way. We double portaged, and it took us almost an hour total, we were in high spirits.
One more short portage and we were on Streak where we had planned to camp at a site near the portage. I had the site mapped on the south side of the lake directly across from the portage to Wrist. There were a couple spots that could be campsites if one were desperate. Then we spotted a fire ring on a rocky point across the lake, but it was not going to work for us.
Morale for our group was pretty low at this point. Each for our own reasons. We argued a bit about how to proceed and agreed to land at the portage where Fritz and Moose would do some fishing for an hour then have lunch and move on.
What I still marvel at is right there along the portage is a really nice campsite. My companions never once mentioned it, even though they wanted the short day. As nice as the site was, there was just something about camping along a portage that didn't feel right to me at the time. In retrospect we probably should have stopped there and set up camp... but we didn't.
Two hours later they returned from fishing, we grabbed a quick trail lunch and set off again. I had spent the time exploring around the portage. There were plentiful blueberries for snacking, beautiful falls, a sandy beach (with moose tracks). I swear I took lots of pictures, but I have very few.
Since we are on day 3, I think it is fair to talk of the group mood at this point. Moose was the kind of guy that takes everything in stride. He had very few complaints, and while a rookie, he was a quick learner.
Fritz was clearly out of his element. Sure, you have goals and plans for a trip, but ultimately you have to learn to just take what the trip gives you. There is no Motel 6 with a light on for you at each lake. Fritz was a bit put out anytime something wavered from "the plan". To make matters worse, he had lost a big fish during their fishing stop and was pouting about it for hours.
Me? While I'd like to say I was perfect, I wasn't. Fritz irritated me to the point of anger several times. At the same time I think it was bothering me because I had wanted them to have the trip of a lifetime, and we just weren't felling a lot of joy. It wasn't that we were having a -bad- time, just not really having a good time. My shin wasn't helping either....
We argued about and passed a campsite on Aegean Creek, and moved on to Aegean Lake. Harlan had pointed out a site on the southern end of an island along the east side of the lake. We swung around the island and landed further south than we had expected. We found a campsite with a nice fire area and a couple good tent pads. When I explored a bit, I found another fire ring about 50 feet away on the other side of the point.
It was another hot windy afternoon. We were off the water and in camp by 2 pm. We should not have been as tired and grumpy as we were. We set up camp silently and each went and sought some solitude for the afternoon.
I cooked up some Chicken Alfredo from a mix. Burned it, I just wasn't too happy with it, and had way too much. Fritz and Moose devoured it all though, and complimented me on the meal. I filled myself with homemade tootsie rolls and home made beef jerky.
Food made for a general change in mood. We built the cooking fire up a bit into a camp fire and sat around it quietly. It was strange that even on such a hot evening, a fire would still be such a comfort. As we sat there we heard some howling off in the distance. We all turned in as the last light of the sun disappeared from the sky.
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Day 4... The turn.
We rose before the sun, packed up camp and headed out for a short day. Our destination was a site Harlan had recommended on South Aegean across from the pictographs.
We set off on mirror smooth water and paddled casually to the south end of the lake. About a quarter mile before the portage we passed a couple in a canoe headed the opposite direction. We exchanged a quick hello and kept paddling.
Before the portage was visible, we headed to a couple different "false" landings. We spotted the real portage landing and put ashore. If only every portage were exactly like this portage between Aegean and South Aegean! Short (20 rods), flat, wide, beaten dirt and no rocks to trip you or twist an ankle. Easy landings on both ends.
As we pushed off onto the lake, the wind started to pick up directly in our faces. The combination of effort to keep strait in the wind and the abundance of islands large and small led to some confusion in my navigation. We pulled into a sheltered cove to get out of the wind and check my map. We had traveled farther than I thought, but thankfully still on course. We headed off to the east (and out of the wind) towards the pictographs.
My luck in finding pictographs is mixed. Even knowing where to look I often miss them, so I was pleased as we pulled right up to the pictographs. Right there on a flat rock face was a moose and an arrow. We speculated a bit and decided since these waters were the prehistoric freeway, this must be the equivalent of a "food next exit" sign. We left some tobacco on the rock, and crossed the channel to the site Harlan had pointed out.
The site had some very neat boulders dropped by the glaciers. There were quite a few downed trees, a couple right across the fire pit, some covering tent pads. We probably could have cleaned it up, but this was a short day. We backtracked to a site we has spotted a couple hundred yards back.
The site we chose was on a point just west of the pictographs. It offered a well sheltered tent pad and a decent place for me to hang my hammock. The fire was situated next to a nice large rock that offered many places for sitting and for setting up a cooking area.
We were landed in camp sometime around 10:30 am. We set up and enjoyed a leisurely lunch. Fritz and moose set out fishing, I climbed into my hammock for a long awaited nap. The breeze off the lake kept me cool and made for a gentle push to swing the hammock and rock me to sleep.
Fritz and Moose came back with 3 nice sized Northerns for dinner. We filleted the fish and wrapped them in foil with some ghee and set them over the fire. We had some fry pan bread, corn and potatoes to accompany the fresh fish.
As we ate, a pair of loons settled in the lake by our campsite. Very soon they were joined by a third loon, and the evening's entertainment started. The pair went after the third with a series of calls and displays. Then a fourth loon joined and so the third was accepted and the trio went after the fourth. But this was not the end. The process repeated itself through the evening as the quartet became a quintet, then a sextet. The seventh loon to arrive was driven off before sunset and a chorus of loon calls lulled us to sleep that night. The 'curse' had lifted. We all had a great day.
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Day 5 I was awoken about 3 a.m. as one of the tie downs on my fly was cut by the stone it was tied to. The wind was whipping up, and a storm was on the way. I went around camp to double check everything was buttoned down, and crawled back into my hammock. The storm passed around us giving us little more than a stiff wind and a light sprinkle of rain. By 4 a.m. I was back out of my hammock and getting breakfast ready.
The sun was still low in the sky as we hit the water. I mention this as the glare of the sun and the reflection off the water all but blinded me as we set off. We were obviously rested, and 4 days of practice paddling meant we were moving quicker than I had grown accustomed to. This all added up to my worst navigational error of the trip. We ended up looping back to the west when we should have veered to the north, and came to a dead end about a mile off course. We quickly corrected and found our portage next to some rapids. I imagine this portage would be pretty difficult during high water as the landing was right next to the rapids.
A couple easy portages and we were on Paull Lake. The "Adventure Map" shows the canoe route going south and through 2 portages just to stay on Paull. Yeah. Right. We kept to the north and stayed on Paull, no portages. This was a beautiful section of water! We did not put ashore to check them out, but there were several campsites that looked fantastic from the water.
A very short backtrack towards the portages we avoided and we were at the pictographs on Paull. Much harder to spot than the ones on S Aegean had been. Fritz make some sketches in his journal, and we were off again.
About a mile or so east of the pictographs we spotted a canoe on shore. Judging by the color, we think it was Oldzip, but we did not want to disturb anyone so we passed by quietly. Another half mile past that we came to a campsite on an island that was our original destination for the day. It was only 10ish and we were all still feeling pretty fresh. So we landed at the site and decided to have lunch before discussing our next move.
This site deserves a bit of description before our story continues. The landing for the site is situated on a small channel between 2 islands. A gentle climb brings you up on top of the island where the campsite is situated 20-30 feet above the lake. As you can see from the photo (looking off to the west) the view is fantastic. There is easily room for even the largest group here. The negative is that the site is also obviously heavily used. Many trees near the fire ring had been stripped of bark, and I picked up a lot of trash, including 2 rusty fire grates that had been left behind.
After lunch and a good rest, we decided none of us were ready to stop. Problem was that judging by the map if we didn't stop here, we would have a fair amount of travel before our next good stopping point. But for the first time we all three agreed on a plan of travel without objection, so off we went.
A series of 5 portages separates Paull from Elephant Head Lake. One of the short 14 rod portages runs at a 30 degree slant over smooth rock. It took a fair amount of care to avoid a twisted ankle. About half way we spied a campsite on the north side that was not on my maps, and along the south side we spied a waterfall. A quick glance at the map revealed a lake up at the top of the falls, but Fritz was already getting grumpy from the additional travel, so we left it
We came to the 200 meter portage at the end of a channel through wild rice. This portage had a bit of everything. Mud to suck your boots off, rocks and roots to twist the ankle, dead fall to ram the canoe into while carrying. And yet, not too challenging. It just took some extra time, and a little bit of saw work.
We emerged from the last portage and had a very short paddle to our goal campsite on a small island strait out from the portage on Elephant Head Lake. This time Moose got out to explore the campsite while Fritz and waited in the canoe. I was glad we delegated to Moose the task of selecting the site. Fritz and I had experienced a bit of friction over campsite choices. I was picky, and he... wasn't so picky, he just wanted to stop.
So off we went hoping to snag the next site up to the north. One quick bonus unmapped beaver obstacle to lift over, and we were at the site in no time. And just as well. Fritz had been pouting, and I was getting on edge. These things happen on trips. I've seen it with scouts, church groups, friends and family. It was a hard day, and to be fair, Fritz had not had much luck fishing, and fishing was why he came.
The site was not great, but it was decent. If I were going solo, it would be an ideal site. 1 or 2 quality tent pads, but only one decent spot for a hammock. Lots of trees were down from weather and beavers surrounding the camp. We set up and settled in for a layover day.
If you would, indulge me as I ramble a bit more about trail-group dynamics. I've taken a trip or two in the wilderness, and with many different people. There is usually friction when a small group of people thrust themselves into such a different setting. I've described a fair amount of tension on this trip. There were differing expectations, and there was the rookie factor. This was a pretty challenging trip for the rookies I was with. Even though there was dissent amongst us, we did work as a team, and we really did get along.
We set up camp, Fritz and Moose went fishing, I settled in for a nap.
Dinner was boxed Julianne Potatoes with bits of Canadian Bacon and re-hydrated veggies thrown in. Tasty and filling.
With bellies full, we started joking and washing dishes. We were making a fair bit of noise, so it was surprising that then was when we saw the caribou.
It was incredible. The caribou just stood there across the lake for 10 or 15 minutes. We watched until it slowly retreated back into the woods.
But it was somewhere in that 10 - 15 minutes that everything changed for me. It was then and there that I realized fully that I just needed to change my career and my life. I needed new and different challenges. I knew it, but yet did not really fully understand it until that moment. I resolved to sell my business and go back to school, earn my degree, and start a new career.
It was a tad chilly in the hammock at first, but deploying the space blanket made it quite cozy.
Day 6, layover day, Elephant Head Lake.
From my journal, "It's all fine with me. This is a pretty campsite. I've been able to nap, do some reading, some thinking, some relaxing, and just plain rest. I miss my family, and I miss running water, and that's it." And later, "I knew I needed to break away for a while, But I needed this even more than I realized. It's like a mental massage. I need a shower." (Obviously my thoughts had shifted!)
At our fire we had an owl make dozens of passes close overhead, had a full bright moon, and a meteor shower. Very cool.
Day 7. Last full day.
Woke up from a nightmare of Fritz attacking me in my hammock with a knife. It took a minute to realize it was just a dream. It did however get me out of my hammock and wide awake in a hurry.
Before I could dress, it started to rain, so I decided to crawl back into my hammock. I started to adjust, and sensed my hammock sagging. I got out in record time, and noticed the trees I was hanging from were definitely tipping. With no hammock to sit in, and the rain falling, I sat under the tarp and read my book for a couple hours. At some point my trip-mates scrambled out of their tent to place the rain fly on the tent. Despite my advice, they had left it packed up. Now all their gear was wet.
Eventually, I got breakfast going. Blueberry pancakes. Hit the water at 8:30 a gentle breeze at our backs. Crossed a bonus dam ol dam, and got buzzed by a flock of loons on Bootjack Lake. Well rested, we made good time, and before you know it, we were on Bunny.
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