Bro and I in the BW

Zeb and I slid our beefy alumacraft canoe into the waters of Sawbill Lake on the last Friday in July.  We had nine days together ahead of us.  It was already late and Tischer stood watching as we loaded the boat with 3 fat Duluth packs.  Even though the sun was still shining bright, the horizon wasn't far below and we pushed off in haste with hopes of finding a site not far from this popular entry point.

The Boundary Waters Canoe Area is a huge motor less Wilderness of waterways in Northern Minnesota.  It connects with the border of Canada and their equal part, the Quetico.  Our mode of transportation was by boat and foot. When we couldn't paddle we loaded the gear on our shoulders and walked to where we could paddle.  

Tischer was responsible for her own saddle pack that I loaded on to her at each portage.  When in the boat she had a personal floatation device strapped around her chest.  Zeb and I alternated at each portage.  One would carry the lightest pack and the canoe, which weighs just over 60 pounds.  The other would carry the other two packs, one of which was the food bag.

The first 5 days of our trip we had for ourselves.  On day 5 we planned to meet my friend Greg and a few others.  We picked a somewhat ambitious route and headed out to the west through what's known as the Lady Chain (of lakes).  To which we curved to the north and eventually back to the east bound for Brule Lake lying to the Northeast of our starting point at Sawbill Lake.

The wind was slight only a couple of days but the sun was strong every day.  The only rain or hint of storms was either at night or during one early morning, and that just meant we got to let our weary bodies sleep a bit longer.  Mosquito's dominated the trails, especially the swampy and muddy ones.  Every night we planned for the arrival of them starting at half past 8.  By 9PM we could hear the super highway, at least that's how we described the sound of their mass.  Starring at them through the screen from within the tent was unnerving and it took a while to get used to hearing them buzz your ears, even though the thin mesh was between us and them.

We labored hard each day, trying to cover the ground necessary in order to arrive on schedule.  We filled up at lunch and dinner and sipped Jameson in between.  We were exhausted often, but the sights and feeling of

 being out there, way out there, gratified our efforts.  We had a blast and saw very few people.

In all, we travelled over 40 different lakes and rivers during those days.  Our portaging distance was over 3,600 rods, a measurement unique to the BWCA.  One rod is 16.5 feet, or roughly the distance of one canoe.  That means the number of rods we covered is equivalent to over 11 miles. 

 

I think Zeb would agree that some of the best moments of our trip was every lunch when we stopped to soak and swim.  It felt so so good!  

Some of the others that come to mind include the sunset on Dent Lake, walking up on a Moose and her young at the end of a portage, the HUGE snapper we saw sunning itself on a rock, the pre-mosquito campfires, bannock pizzas, paddling across a still lake under a 

heavy downpour, and just feeling the boat move under the control and direction of our own efforts, from our soaring spirit and through our soft bent shaft wood paddles.