Boundary Waters Voyage, Pt2

At the first portage abandoning the car, sunshine and rain hit us at the same time like a baptism to the Boundary Waters. It was late in the afternoon and we needed to find a campsite and construct shelter soon. When visiting the Boundary Waters, there are designated campsites along the waterfront. Camping outside these specific areas is frowned upon. Campsites are on a first come first served basis and thus if one site is preoccupied it is mandatory to keep on paddling till the next in hopes of a vacancy. Near the entry point and popular areas, this can prove difficult past 3pm if a campsite is not already established. Our first campsite proved an excellent location for a glorious sunset that evening, and thus we named it Sunset Rock.

The following are Entries from the Captain’s log documenting the trip:

Captain’s log: Day 2

“We have landed on a rock beach, waking to small splashes, loons across the water, something in the trees chattering. It is 5:30am. Everything is calm. We are happy to have survived the night, except for the few mosquitoes. What could be such hostile ground at night rather lay dormant in the day. A few bumps and scratches, mostly the wind slicing through the aspen saplings at strange approaching angles. Nothing came for our food hung not too high up for we are camping in the burn down area of the south western part of Sea Gull Lake where the tallest trees are yet adolescent saplings.”

“We portaged yesterday at 1500, seeking to find bearings on the map launching out of Trail's End on the Gunflint Road. One dark ominous gray cloud followed us out as if to be moving across the sky in the opposite direction of all the other clouds just to lead us and cover us from the beating sun with rain, and only on us. It was a pleasant odd isolated rain. The sun’s rays reflected off the small ripples of the lake’s surface, rain drops like music beating all around us cutting through the dark deep water past ancient stone islands caved out by glaciers and time.”

“Today we pack up for Camp 2 through Alpine Lake and potentially as close to Eddy Falls as possible. The sun pinks the Eastern horizon with one mountain of blue cloud towards the North. Nothing stirs, the air calm, quiet. The water clean and clear, a mirror to the sky. Our canoe will slice through. The eyes can see six feet deep to the cliffs that drop off below the surface. A small frog hops by my side waiting patiently for breakfast to arrive. Large fish quake the colorful morning surface. A loon echoes another from across the lake. Everything begins to wake. A bald eagle flies over my head.”

Captains Log: Night 2

“Waters irresistible to swim floating on mountain tops, the shoreline drops into depths below, 40, 50, 80, 110 feet. Out here we are forced to detach, sit back, watch clouds move, and listen to the patterns of waves filling the quiet. There are not as many insects and animals as I expected. We’ve ventured past the burned down area, which I did enjoy. I liked it better than the old forest, all exposed, big rock faces towering out with the charred skeletal remains of trees. Here, everything is green and pines have filled in all the spaces like a thick curtain hiding what lies beyond. Tomorrow we aim to cross Eddy Falls.”

“We learn to speak quieter, walk lighter, listen closer, see everything, move into the landscape. “

On our voyage, our daily routine would be to wake around 5-5:30am while the air was still quiet, to break down camp, eat some breakfast, and push off into the waters by 6am. Early rise is essential in the Boundary Waters for the easiest travel. Winds and waters are calmest in the morning, while picking up in the afternoon as the day warms. Paddling against winds and waves makes for a grueling test of endurance. Around 2pm we would begin locating a campsite, dock, and setting up camp. After eating some lunch we would relax or go for a swim till dinnertime. By 8:30, just after sunset, we would be in our tent as the swarms of mosquitoes would come out in their armada to feast. By the hundreds and thousands their little buzzing wings could be heard as a horde outside the thin nylon walls of our shelter. Safe from being the meal, we fell asleep.

Captain’s Log: Day 4, 5:43am

“Fish break through the burning pink orange surface of morning. Loons howl like wolves of the lake bringing another day into existence. I sit on a rock that’s a finger slicing through times of glaciers. We have crossed the line of no return. Forward as quick or as slowly as we can travel is the only way home now. We have immersed ourselves here, drank her waters, and now move with her scale of time, listening to the small sounds of her house. I am sure we are all tired and feel like a hot shower would be heavenly. We are yet two or three more moons from reaching our final portage to the car. I have not counted our food supply for rationing yet, but we should be okay. There should be enough for three more days.”

“We have crossed over the halfway point and now the sky opens her belly and births the sun. The mosquitoes are extra thirsty this morning. We must reach the ‘Big Sag’ today if we are to stay on track to our destination by Sunday, otherwise we might not have enough food there after.”

“The weather has been kind, rather perfect, even the nights have been warm. The days: partly cloudy in the upper 70’s. We leave the tent flaps open to cool the tent at night. Not a drop of rain since our first entry point. The winds picked up last night but no storm arrived. We can only hope for two more nights of the same perfect conditions. The full moon of night sets behind me as day begins anew.”

Boundary Waters Voyage, Pt1:
https://steemit.com/adventure/@ghostfish/boundary-waters-voyage-pt1