1,000,000 – acres in the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness
33 – miles we paddled the canoe
5 – miles Kent carried the canoe on portages
14 – number of lakes we explored
17 – number of portages we walked
3.5 – ounces of DEET repellent we used
120 – pounds of gear and provisions we carried
345 – cost at Sawbill outfitters for canoe and Duluth packs
6 – number of nights we slept on the ground
151 – hours in the wilderness
2 – gallon ziplocks of trash packed out
The hope when a lone loon’s call echoes across the lake and the joy when another answers.
The sense of power in the wingbeats of an eagle.
That super creepy feeling of a leech latched to a defenseless toe; even if it was Kent’s toe not mine.
A true sense of “in the moment” as the paddle enters the water and the canoe slides silently across the water.
A special oneness with nature found only when using an open air pit toilet.
Halfway back a portage, the full weight of gear on your back, mosquitoes buzzing everywhere, picking your way along a rock strewn muddy trail; the fleeting thought, “Am I too old for this?”.
A near continuous sense of awe at the wonder of this place.
The taste of just picked blueberries and raspberries discovered alongside the portage trail.
That first sip of coffee
Dark chocolate Hershey’s pudding for dessert.
The sound of air whistling through the feathers of a loon passing overhead.
A roar that is a dragonfly in flight.
The crash of a mighty tree falling.
The crack of a beaver tail against the mirror still lake and its echo against the shores.
The soft yipping of beaver as they feed together among the lily pads.
The boom of thunder and its long lasting echoes rolling back and forth across the lake.
That tight knot feeling in the lower back after a couple hours of paddling and a rocky, root tangled portage or two…then the feeling of arching that back across a just right sun-warned rock.
The insane itching of what feels like a thousand mosquito bites.
The soothing feel of warm soapy water after a week on the trail.
The clear clean smell of pine.
The sulfur smell of the muck at reedy portages.
Campfire smoke.
The first glimpse of the shimmering surface of the next lake at the end of a hard portage.
A full moon reflected in the lake.
Cow and calf moose tracks along the portage.
The flash of bright white plumage of a loon on the water.
The view from the throne (privy set back a long winding trail out in the underbrush)
Aug 15: Sawbill, Ada, Skoop, Cherokee Creek, Cherokee Lake.
Duluth packs were packed the night before with everything we might need. We are up bright and early, 5:45 AM and excited to get going.
By 7:45 we are on the water. Kent is comfortably settled in the driver’s seat, the back of the canoe. I take the motor seat up front. It is a smooth start for a day of beautiful shorelines and clear lakes. It is a bit of work though and we are pretty pooped by the time we reach our fist overnight stop, a campsite on an open rocky point on Cherokee Lake.
We take a quick dip to cool off—-I mean quick—Cherokee is really cold then relax to watch the many loons.
We are just laying there and then, Ack, what is that? There is blood just running out of Kent’s toe. In a mad flurry we check it out. It’s no injury, its leeches. They have attached to his toe and he is bleeding like a stuck pig. SO GROSS. In my slightly creeped out state I still managed to find a salt packet and we dispatched with the little devils. We cleaned up and bandaged and composed ourselves, no biggie, right!
Eagles and gulls loudly debated ownership of a fish kill floating out in the lake. There was squawking and dive bombing each other. It was all quite entertaining. Eventually an eagle won out and stole the fish off to his feeding perch.
Thank goodness for a breezy evening and the open rocky point. It kept the mighty swarms of mosquitoes comfortably at bay. We feel asleep with there mighty buzzing just outside of tent screen.
Aug 16: CherokeeLake
A clear cool morning with a tinge of color in the sunrise. We listened to the world wake up to the caress of the warm morning sun.
A boulder was our breakfast table as we fried pancakes and sipped coffee. We were up a couple hours before we heard the first sounds of other people on the lake. We spend all day on Cherokee. It is a welcome lazy day especially since it is pretty windy making paddling a bit more difficult. We explore a bit. Watch a pair of loons teaching their half grown young ones how to fish.
Ack, Kent has another leech. It is dispatched with hand sanitizer this time. We are getting a little wary stepping into and out of the lake’s edge. We do a lot of foot rinsing and inspection.
Hummus on pita for lunch and a quiet afternoon in camp.
A huge swarm of bees seems to like our finest shade pine. They don’t bother us so we don’t bother them. We listen to the buzzzz as we drift off to sleep.
Aug 17: Sitka, North Temperance, South Temperance lakes
We have a pretty big day planned so it’s up at 6:15 and on the water by 7:55. We are on smaller, shallower lakes and on the lookout for moose. Alas, no luck there. Of course, the fingernails on chalkboard-like sound made by 17 feet of Kevlar canoe scrapping on portage underbush couldn’t possibly have affected that! Tracks along the portage are the only proof they actually live out here. We did see a beaver out for a swim and a woodpecker feeding its little ones high in an old pine above the portage. People are fewer, lakes are calm, and the quiet is absolutely amazing. We settle into a secluded site on South Temperance….a bit of a mistake. 
With the sun low in the sky the mosquitoes become unbearable. We take refuge in the tent by 7PM. The mournful call of a loon drifts across the lake. He repeats and repeats. At last, a reply. I fall off to sleep.
Oh yeah, Kent found leeches again; on the very same toe. He is taking it all pretty well. I’m still leech free….thankfully.
Aug 18: Unnamed lake, Weird, Jack, & Kelly.
Woke to light rain around 5AM so we delayed breakfast a bit but soon leave the mosquitoes behind and are on the water by 8AM. The first portage is long and difficult. There see more moose tracks, this time a cow and at least one calf, but no still moose. We portage around a pretty waterfall on the way to JackLake. By 1:30 we are on Kelly Lake and both ready to call it a day. 
We set up camp on the south end of the lake and take a cooling dip. And settle in for another relaxing afternoon. Alright, no leeches for Kent today!
After diner we paddle back to the lily pad end of Kelly to try again to see that illusive moose. No luck with the moose but the beaver were out for diner. There is a huge hut and at least 5 are out lolling around, chatting, and munching away. Very fun to watch. The lake is glass smooth. Reflections of the sunset and shoreline are perfect and magnificent. As we begin our paddle back to camp we get a bit too close to one beaver, the slap of his tail rings like a gunshot across the lake and echoes back and forth. By the time we get home we have heard that sound some 5 or 6 times. There is a cool breeze. We settle in for the night.
Aug 19: Burnt & Flame Lakes
A bit of fog hangs over the lake at 6:30 but it has burned off by the time we are on the water at 8. We have a hard portage first thing as we make our way to Burnt Lake then on to the one private site on Flame for the night, we hope. The portage is long and rugged. We take a break for a few and enjoy a little surprise of wild blueberries along the trail. A really long legged bunny shares the trail too.
Burnt Lake is dotted with many small rugged rock and pine islands. Two eagles call it their home today. It is beautiful but we don’t dally long. We want to try to claim the coveted private site on Flame lake that we very much enjoyed during our last trip.
Luck is with us. The last campers are just shoving off with all their gear as we arrive. The site is ours to spend the last two nights of our trip.
Flame is a small lake. Two loons stop in. maybe we will have a private serenade? The afternoon sun is still hot and we are in and out of the lake.
By evening it has cooled off. We sip coffee and hot orange. It is a perfect evening for a bit of a fire. The fire is small and smoky. Romantic and peaceful and perfect for keeping the mosquitoes away. An osprey makes a short appearance. Time to call it a day.
Aug 20: Flame Lake.
It poured last night. Lightening flashed and thunder rolled and echoed, mostly in the distance but sometimes startlingly near. Our immediate issue is the water in the tent. It seems that the tent pitcher (me) didn’t get the ground cloth just right and we awoke in a bit of a puddle with only the air mattresses saving bedding and ourselves from a soggy start to the day. So, up by 8:30 as the sun is burning through the clouds and everything is out on the line.
The breeze builds and pushes all the clouds away to leave a bright beautiful day. This is our last lazy day out here and we make the most of it. We do nothing except dip in the lake and laze in the sun.
There is a crisp, loud, CRACK, a bit of a delay then a crash as a huge tree is toppled by the continuing gusty wind. We can’t really see exactly what happened but it is amazing how much just the sound tells us. The evening is cool and Kent again manages the perfect fire with a few dancing flames and plenty of smoke to keep our pesky bugs away.
I have never seen so thick a cloud of mosquitoes as the one that followed Kent back from the open air potty today.
As we lay down for the night the squirrels are tearing around camp making lots of racket and frogs are croaking at the waterside just outside our tent. It is a very good last night.
Aug 21: Burnt, Smoke & SawbillLakes
There was a slight sprinkle early in the morning but all had passed in time for an unshowy, simple sunrise. The squirrels are still a bit nutty this morning scrambling everywhere and making lots of noise. By 7:30 a breeze builds and pushes the bright smell of pine into camp. We are up. It is quiet enough that even a few warblers venture out. We enjoy a lazy breakfast and slowly break camp. We head back into the “real” world today. We take a few minutes more to just enjoy the view and the sounds.
We explore Flame a bit; make a big circle in Burnt just to check it out then on the Smoke. Eagles make a showing here and we picnic with PB and J on a nice sunny rock.
All that remains is the swampy portage start back to Sawbill. I remember this one from last time. The mosquitoes about ate us alive then. But not today. I managed not to actually step into the 3 foot deep muck along the narrow boardwalk that creates the first 50 feet or so of the portage. The bugs were nothing worse than we have come to expect. The portage is a short one and it isn’t long before we get our one last chance to glimpse the shimmering lake at the open end of a portage trudge. We paddle Sawbill and by 3PM say farewell to BWCA for now.
Grand Marais. It is a quiet tourist town in the far north Minnesota way. A peaceful lakefront walking path along a harbor dotted with sailboats and pleasure craft, art shops, and lots of restaurants offering locally caught fish. It is nestled between Lake Superior and the vast SuperiorNational Forest so hiking, canoeing and lake boating are THE recreation. Not a bad place for a quiet week or two. Not this time through though. We are off to Boundary Waters.
Carrying canoes and tons of cargo 8 ½ miles around the rapids of the Pigeon River, and this was the easy route! This place earned its name.
We visited Grand Portage National Monument for a living history lesson on the fur trade of the late 1700s. New lands were explored, routes were found to remote and distant places; and at least in the early times, it created a cultural melting pot for many nationalities and the native Ojibwa. All for the want of a beaver felt hat!
It was rendezvous weekend. 
Re-enactors and park staff were in period dress and living the lives of Fur Trade captains of the northwest Trading Co., Voyageurs, Dakota Indians, Ojibwa Indians, and the families that followed them.
We were entertained by a bagpiper. 
Journals and historical accounts make note of their actually being a piper at the camp to entertain. Who would have thought? A tin smith held a class to teach how to make a fire lighting glass holder. Around one hundred individuals, young kids to retired folks like us (or even older) filled canvas tents, played games of the time, stitched, carved, wove, and cooked over open fire. Some were purists and strove to live entirely within the constraints of the time so they even used only the dried foods available of the period in this setting. These folks seem to love the adventure of it. Every time we go to one of these we think, “that would be fun”.
Did you know that your can start a fire in less than 10 seconds, maybe even in 5.8? 
Well some people can. In the Voyageurs’ camp they held a fire starting competition. Armed with a flint, steel, a bit of char cloth and a nest of finely frayed hemp rope each tried their hand a starting a fire. First strike of the flint rock to first flame was timed. Incidentally, the record 5.8 today was accomplished by a woman. I can’t do that with a match!
Indian birch bark canoes are an absolute marvel that they freely shared with the newcomers. The white-man-built version on steroids (38 feet long) was the key to success of the fur trade. Disgraceful stories of forced marches, reservations, and unkept promises tell of how the Ojibwa were repaid. It leaves a bit of a sour taste.
To be truthful, the initial reason to check out the Museum in Grand Rapids was the 1928 Spillman Carousel. It did not disappoint. It is wonderfully restored including the Wurlitzer Organ. I got my ride of course. Brian took a spin as well while Kent did his picture thing.
We were really impressed with the rest of the place. The town has moved a number of its museums into one building and they are all wonderfully done.
Most impressive: a restored theatre organ including all of its sound affects. We caught a demonstration. Very cool. They have concerts on Saturdays; unfortunately we will be out of here by then.
Most unique: The old town clock tower rebuilt so that the works were visible and right at eye level on the third floor. We had to stay to watch all the intricate movements when the clock stuck three.
Most well done: the Michigan wildlife displays. The first room was laid out as wildlife museums of 50 years ago with species randomly display with no though as to habitat or even whether they ever coexisted. Later displays are wonderfully done dioramas with wonderful examples of camouflage and interrelationships among species. Their bird exhibit is huge and organized like a birders field guide. What a great idea.
Amazingly complete: the story of the Anishinabek, the native people of this area.
We saw stamp, coin, pewter, glass, quilt, and toy collections. Every one is creatively displayed to encourage us to stay a while and learn a bit. Throw in the MI Civil War exhibit, a recreation of 1890s Grand Rapid streets including a wonderfully restored horse drawn fire wagon and player piano, and a woodworking shop harking back to Grand Rapid’s great furniture days and we found our brains saturated and our feet tired. We didn’t even make it into the Planetarium or the traveling exhibit of Titanic artifacts.
It’s a wonderful stop. Don’t miss it if you are in town. The Grand RapidsPublicMuseum. 272 Pearl St. Grand RapidsMI.
Glassy smooth and fog shrouded. Kent and I slid the kayaks along the lakeshore and enjoyed the unveiling as the fog lifted and the local wildlife awoke.
After breakfast, we are up for some more time on the water. It is quite the scene. Bright colored kayaks are stacked crosswise on the boat as we meander the campground loops, make our way to the ramp, and launch. Kent struggles to see over the pile as the boat comes up on plane. This is certainly the fastest these kayaks will ever move! Across the lake we find a smooth bay with undeveloped shoreline and Brian and I set out to explore.
The lake bottom is a bit mucky and we struggle to keep our water shoes from being sucked right off our feet with every step. We are getting better at getting into the kayaks but I suspect there is an easier way than the straddle method we are using.
We are on our way. This bay is home for many: A mama mallard and her ducklings swam right past us. A pair of swans gracefully kept their distance. Lots of turtles, swimming and sunning. A hawk being harassed by black birds. A close up view of lily pad blossoms, bright yellow and delicate white. Frogs croaking from deep in the reeds.
We cross the lake and make our way to sand bar and shady bank to meet back up with Kent.
Nap time for me and the guys set out for a bit more paddling. Brian probably logged nearly 4 hours in the kayak today. I think maybe he enjoys it.
Actually, the dew point is in the 70s. It is miserably sticky and it feels like any loud noise will bring on the thunder storms. Today, air conditioning is a good thing.
We (Kent, myself, and Brian) are getting the hang of it…I think. First an hour or so on a smooth, protected channel that’s maybe 5 foot deep at its deepest. There were some fairly ungraceful moves in and out but no mishaps and no aches and pains.
Day two, wind waves and power boat chop made paddling a bit more challenging. Tomorrow morning we will see what our shoulders have to say. Paddling works a few otherwise underutilized muscles.
The gigantic gargoyles on State Street. Huge “head shaped” flower pots all along Congress Plaza. 
Segway tours and rent-a-bikes on crowded pathways…great for them I guess a bit of a hazard for the rest of us. Smells, good and not so good but an integral part of the city experience.
Then there was sunrise!
