This morning I gave James and his buddy Joe a ride to Afton Alps for their first ski outing. Since a warm month of November gave way to December, the temperatures have been more seasonable. In only one week, the ground was frozen hard and the dusting of snow we got on Wednesday is still around. No wonder the ski areas around town have been making the artificial stuff like crazy.
On the way to Afton we are heading out of St. Paul east on I-94. The weather is perfect for a day on the slopes, perfect for all manner of outdoor activities, -8C under a blue sky. I dressed up in my running gear (snickering from James and Joe over my tights) and packed the lab to take advantage of Afton State Park, immediately adjacent to the ski area. St. Paul's East Side is followed by the sprawling suburb of Woodbury, which slowly merges into the countryside. But before we even left St. Paul proper, I saw two large birds standing by the roadside. Since I was working on my breakfast, all I could do to catch the boys attention was to mumble something like “furfee” and gesture excitedly with my sandwich. James yelled “turkeys!” as we sped by. Two good-sized jakes and a third bird a little down in the ditch, just past the McKnight exit, right across from 3M headquarters. It always strikes me how big they are up close. This was even apparent while whizzing by at about 100 kph. In addition, they have something vaguely antediluvian to them, as if they could have possibly escaped from a time warp or from Jurassic Park.
I have hunted for turkeys over the past 15 years or so, in traditional turkey country of south-east Minnesota, so far without luck. About half the years, I heard the birds but did not even see them. In the cities however, I have stopped counting the number of times I have seen them. The first time (as really every time since) was really special: I was heading for Rosedale Mall with Colin and James in tow, heading north on Fairview. At the moderately busy intersection with Roselawn, which is controlled by a four-way stop sign, there was a hold-up. I couldn't tell what was going on, it did not seem like an accident, but traffic was just crawling. When we got to the intersection, the cause became apparent: three big turkeys were occupying one of the crossing's corners, they looked as if they were checking each car to decide which one would be worth high-jacking. This must be about ten years ago and I have had several encounters like this every year.
Some of the more memorable include almost hitting one while riding my bike to work in Mendota Heights' Valley Park, having one fly so low over my car while giving my brother Arnulf a ride to the airport that I thought it would enter the car through his open window and land on his lap or Colin being distracted by a small flock on East River Road during one of his first driving lessons. Turkeys, like various birds of prey and deer have become an integral park of our urban wildlife. Let's hope it stays that way and let's hope that drivers will be careful and break.
View Turkeys around St. Paul in a larger map
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Friday, December 4, 2009
Turkey Hunting Planning 2010
Got together with Jim this morning to discuss details of the MN Spring Turkey Season. We quickly agreed to enter the lottery for Period D, April 29-May 3 for our usual area, Houston #349. Since the DNR got rid of the second choice, it was an easy decision. All surplus licenses are now going to be sold first come-first served. If we don't draw, we still may pick up a license anyway.
Friday, November 13, 2009
New Canoe!
When I casually browsed Craig's List Minneapolis for canoes over the weekend, I did not seriously think about actually finding something I would make an offer on. But someone offered a Bell Canoe for sale for $700 and I just had to check it out. After exchanging a few messages with the current owner and doing some further research, I found out the following: the 15'6" Bell had been sold under the Galyan's label and must have been a Woodsman II. All postings about this craft gave it good reviews (see here), describing it as a version of the Bell Morningstar. The same postings also mention the Galyan's Woodsman III, which is a version of the Bell Northwind.
According to the owner, the canoe had only known light use and was in excellent condition. After a short discussion with my lovely wife Lynn, I offered $500 contingent on an inspection, which the seller immediately accepted.
After dropping James off for his band retreat, I headed to the western burbs. The owner needed to get dressed (at noon!), and while waiting for him, his daughter arrived with a friend in tow. She introduced me to the canoe, which was kept in a heated garage, swathed in blankets. Heck, from the looks, I don't treat my dog as well as this guy treated his canoe. After peeling off multiple layers, it became clear that it may never even have been taken out of the garage; I had to look hard to find a single scratch. Also, it turned out to be a Woodsman III, i.e. the 16'6" rather than the shorter Woodsman II. I was a little disappointed because I was looking forward to a nimble river craft and not the tame tripper the Woodsman III is. I went ahead with the purchase because of the excellent condition and its suitability for shorter two-person trips. If I just make two weekend trips per year, the canoe will have paid for itself in less than half a decade.
On the remark on canoe vs. dog: my dog may not be as coddled as the canoe was, but she certainly has more fun, as this canoe will have, now that it is mine!
According to the owner, the canoe had only known light use and was in excellent condition. After a short discussion with my lovely wife Lynn, I offered $500 contingent on an inspection, which the seller immediately accepted.
After dropping James off for his band retreat, I headed to the western burbs. The owner needed to get dressed (at noon!), and while waiting for him, his daughter arrived with a friend in tow. She introduced me to the canoe, which was kept in a heated garage, swathed in blankets. Heck, from the looks, I don't treat my dog as well as this guy treated his canoe. After peeling off multiple layers, it became clear that it may never even have been taken out of the garage; I had to look hard to find a single scratch. Also, it turned out to be a Woodsman III, i.e. the 16'6" rather than the shorter Woodsman II. I was a little disappointed because I was looking forward to a nimble river craft and not the tame tripper the Woodsman III is. I went ahead with the purchase because of the excellent condition and its suitability for shorter two-person trips. If I just make two weekend trips per year, the canoe will have paid for itself in less than half a decade.On the remark on canoe vs. dog: my dog may not be as coddled as the canoe was, but she certainly has more fun, as this canoe will have, now that it is mine!
Monday, October 12, 2009
Sunday, October 11, 2009
2009 Namekagon--Drive Home
The drive back to St. Paul was rather uneventful. I failed to comment on the landscape on the west side of Namekagon Trail. There were deep depressions, almost dead-end valleys, sandy, barren, with no growth other than low bushes, almost like sage brush of the western plains. Foreign-looking in this woodland of deciduous trees interspersed with stands of white pine, quite intriguing and attractive.
I stopped once more to tighten the front strap a little more and then no more need to stop till Joel's, not even for gas. One 15 minute slow-down ahead of the construction site on Interstate 35. And the Vikings were winning. I can't follow a football game, I always asked who scored during a beer commercial because it featured a raucous crowd. Unfortunately we had to find out that the Twins lost their Friday night game to the those damn Yanks.
By 3:00 I was home and by 3:30 most of the gear was stored or readied or drying or cleaning. And at 4:30 I was driving James to hockey and went for a quick run with Mellie.
2009 Namekagon--Group Site 8.4 to Namekagon Trail Landing
I got up at dawn, not because I especially wanted to but rather because there was 90 lbs. of dog that wanted to get out and at 'em. a beautiful morning, not a cloud in the sky and no additional snow. But the temp was definitely below freezing: a measurement a little later revealed 21.5 F (-6 C). But not a breath of wind, so fairly easy to bear.
Nevertheless, my first task was to get that fire going again. There were a few embers left under the ashes, and with a bit of old news print, some dry sticks saved for that purpose and more of the green twigs, to repeat the technique from the previous night I had a good fire in no time and the water heating for a good pot of coffee.
I was quickly joined by Joel and then by Craig. Hot coffee tastes very well indeed on a cold morning, especially when accompanied by breakfast tacos. Craig and I are adherents of dish-less meals, wherever possible. Same as with the steak on a Kaiser bun: egg, cheese and sausage transferred to soft taco in hand and from there to mouth: fewer dishes to wash.
We made short play of breaking camp. By 9:30 it was hard to tell that someone had camped here and by 10:10 we pushed off. The four remaining miles would not take long. Enough time to make a quick foray up the Totagatic River (not very long as the current proved swift and the landscape not too exciting). We also stopped at Group Site 5.1, a nice spacious and level area with plenty of space to toss a Frisbee and other games. Only a few hundred meters on, our cars awaited us, still covered in snow. Due to the temperatures we were thankful to have invested in the shuttle. We recalled the previous year when Joel and Arnulf had to wait for more than an hour in pouring rain for the cars to arrive. Within less than half an hour we took a quick group picture. Joel and I bid Craig farewell and we were on our way back to the Twin Cities.
Nevertheless, my first task was to get that fire going again. There were a few embers left under the ashes, and with a bit of old news print, some dry sticks saved for that purpose and more of the green twigs, to repeat the technique from the previous night I had a good fire in no time and the water heating for a good pot of coffee.
I was quickly joined by Joel and then by Craig. Hot coffee tastes very well indeed on a cold morning, especially when accompanied by breakfast tacos. Craig and I are adherents of dish-less meals, wherever possible. Same as with the steak on a Kaiser bun: egg, cheese and sausage transferred to soft taco in hand and from there to mouth: fewer dishes to wash.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
2009 Namekagon--Group Site 25.3 to Group Site 8.4
Where are my x-country skis?I slept well, waking up occasionally to change positions, as can be expected when lying on a Thermarest. I made a point to poke an ear out of my sleeping bag, and indeed, I heard the whisper of snow flakes hitting the rain fly. Around 6:30, Mellie decided that it was time to get up. I looked up and noticed diffuse moon light filtering in through the top of the tent. At least it's not cloudy, I thought. By now, Mellie was hard to constrain, her tail wagging vigorously. As I unzipped the tent door, I was in for a shock: everything white. We got at least an inch overnight, enough to cover up everything. Fortunately the fire was still smoldering and it took not much to revive it. It turned out that Craig had gotten up at 4:30 to take a leak and put a couple of logs on the dying embers. Just what the doctor ordered. I recall smelling the smoke and even the flare up of flames some time during the night. The snow made Mellie go wild, or maybe it was the cold. Anyway, she was running tight circles around the fire pit. 
to work a bit harder because the wind picked up even more. Our lunch at Howell was quite uncomfortable, due to the cold and blustery weather. This is where we measured the high temperature for the day: 33F. Howell is a nice spacious area, with picnic tables and a shoreline that could pass as a swimming beach. Craig told us that when he and his family passed through on Labor Day weekend just 5 weeks earlier, the place was busy with sunbathers, picnickers, parties that were taking out or putting in. Unbelievable at this point! The only one who seemed unphased by the shore leave was Mellie, who spend the entire 15 minutes exploring.
Fall colors framed by snow. I thought this was supposed to be Indian Summer.The rest of the trip was pretty much a grind, despite the often breathtakingly beautiful riverscape. Craig, paddling solo had an especially hard time. His saving grace was that Joel and I would occasionally got hung up on a sand or gravel bar. Shortly before arriving at 8.8, our original destination for the day, Craig suggested it might be better to travel the extra 4/10th of a mile to the next group site, which would be more sheltered. Joel and I did a quick survey of site 8.8 when we arrived. In addition to being more exposed, site 8.8 had also a large alrea fenced off for restoration. We gladly moved on.
Site 8.4 was indeed lovely, along the narrower branch of the river by an island, well sheltered and on multiple levels. Locust trees all around the site had been recently cut, if the wood had had some more time to dry we would have been well endowed with an easy source of fuel. We started the fire with some dry pine branches, added big logs and topped it off with some locust twigs. Amazingly, the almost green twigs burned like tinder and soon we had a fire to warm our chilled bones. By now, the temperature had dipped again below freezing. Craig was making Beef Stroganoff in a Dutch oven and I was readying some molt wine. What a fine dinner! Again, we did not linger much before turning in.
The Three StoogesFriday, October 9, 2009
2009 Namekagon--County K Landing to Group Site 25.3
The stretch from County Road K to Group Site 25.3 (the number equates the distance to the confluence with the St. Croix River, as provided on the National Park Service brochure and map) was 5.9 miles. For once, we felt not rushed to beat nightfall. We made it to camp with plenty of daylight to spare. The spacious camp site (a group site after all) hat nice, level tent spots. Pitching tents did not take much time and we were soon busy starting a nice fire. Not much work in terms of dinner prep, the monster rib eye steaks from Widmer's fit nicely between the halves of Mexican kaiser buns, a great way to have a plate-less dinner. Vegetables consisted of tomato slices, i cold have brought steak sauce but the flavor of these butter-knife steaks was such that the eaters did not notice this missing condiment. Joel and Craig insisted that these were the best slabs of meat they had ever eaten. Even if they said this to be nice to the cook, I have to say these steaks were pretty darn good! The culinary experience was rounded out by the Martinis Joel brought along. Stirred, not shaken, excellent. By the time we were done, bright stars overhead gave us the mood lighting, but not the northern lights we had hoped. By now the temps had dropped below freezing and we were eager to crawl into our sleeping bag even though it was only 9:00 PM. Mellie made a nest between Joel and me, close to our heads. I read a little and turned off the lights by 9:45.
2009 Namekagon--Drive to Namekagon Trail Landing and on to County K
I took Friday morning off and ran around picking up last minute stuff, primarily groceries (steaks from Widmers!) I thought I had plenty of time but it somehow slipped away and I had to hurry to be at Joel's at noon. But Mellie and I made it and off we went. Beautiful driving weather and we made great time, much better than anticipated: Danbury around 2:10 PM, where we filled the tank and I bought a WI fishing license. We were at Namekagon Trail landing at 2:30, no one else in sight. As we took the last items from the car, the livery van from Jack's Canoe Rental arrived and as we finished loading the van, Craig arrived. The transfer to the livery van and trailer took maybe 10 or 15 minutes. The drive to County Road K took about 35 minutes. We were already glad that we would not have to shuttle this ourselves. Unloading at County K was efficient and after about 20 minutes it was off to the races.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
RE: Namekagon River Trip
I just called Joan at the Namakagon Vis Ctr (715-635-8346). She said she had just canoed part of the Trego to Nmkgn Wilderness Landing stretch this week and it was "fine" for loaded canoes. I guess the gage at Leonards, WI is not a good indicator of water levels from Trego to Nmkgn Wilderness Landing. Unfortunately it it the only gage on the Namekagon. Good to know for future reference.
Fri: Steaks-Martinis
Sat. am: Egg Scramble-tortillas ?
Sat. pm: Beef Stroganoff
Sun am: Pancakes-Bacon
Are we sure 2:30 is doable for the 10/9 Friday rendezvous?
If so I will confirm our shuttle service to meet us at Namekagon Trail landing.
Craig
From: Christian Franken [mailto:cfosp1@yahoo.com]
Sent: Monday, September 21, 2009 8:37 AM
To: Joel Alter; Craig Shanks; Jeff Ebert; Jeff Ebert; cfosp1.cfospwild@blogger.com
Subject: Namekagon River Trip
| Hi guys, Just checked the NPS website for news on river levels, according to the gages it looks like the water is dropping. Leonard: http://www.crh.noaa.gov/ahps2/hydrograph.php?wfo=dlh&gage=leow3&view=1,1,1,1,1,1,1,1; Danbury: http://www.crh.noaa.gov/ahps2/hydrograph.php?wfo=dlh&gage=danw3&view=1,1,1,1,1,1,1,1 I also looked at the blog they keep on river conditions, the most recent entry was for a stretch above from where we are planning to put in. http://www.nps.gov/sacn/planyourvisit/riverconditionblog.htm. I will call towards the end of this week to check directly with the rangers. Some rain in the forecast for this week, but it does not sound like a lot ... Talk to you soon, Christian |
Monday, September 21, 2009
2009 Namekagon River Trip Prep
Just checked the NPS website for news on river levels, according to the gages it looks like the water is dropping. Leonard: http://www.crh.noaa.gov/ahps2/hydrograph.php?wfo=dlh&gage=leow3&view=1,1,1,1,1,1,1,1; Danbury: http://www.crh.noaa.gov/ahps2/hydrograph.php?wfo=dlh&gage=danw3&view=1,1,1,1,1,1,1,1 I also looked at the blog they keep on river conditions, the most recent entry was for a stretch above from where we are planning to put in. http://www.nps.gov/sacn/planyourvisit/riverconditionblog.htm. I will call towards the end of this week to check directly with the rangers. Some rain in the forecast for this week, but it does not sound like a lot ... |
Monday, August 24, 2009
2009 BWCA Trip Map and Conclusions
View 2009 BWCA Trip in a larger map
Trip Data:
Takeaways:
- Decided to move all measurements to metric. Dealing with arcane measurements like feet, miles, and rods is just too cumbersome. If you insist on seeing distances in body parts or canoe lengths, feel free to use this handy conversion tool. Measurements in parenthesis are altitude above sea level.
- Need to move back to early summer. Will take more bugs over crowded BWCA anytime!
- Replace most cotton with polyprop, underarmor, etc.
- Keep at least part of clothing in waterproof bag. Inside tent is not enough.
- Tarps indispensable asset during this, our first trip with significant rainy weather. Now we know why we have been lugging them around these other years!
- Asolo FSN 95 worked great, wet and dry. A good investment!
- Make mag's Minty Boost worked great to recharge Forerunner 305, which I use to record route during trip
- After yet another water filter (this time broken pump axle on Katadyn Vario) bites the dust after very little use, the new water filter has to be the indestructible expedition model. Katadyn Pocket looks like it will fit the bill.
- Very good experience having dog Mellie along! She seemed to enjoy it, too.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Day 5 South Temperance Lake to Brule Lake and exit at #41
South Temperance Lake (557m)
Portage 50m
Brule Lake (559m)
Amazing how quickly we got those guys up this morning. The horses must be smelling the barn. We had made the last of the coffee, a quick but calorific breakfast, broke camp and were off. As we approached the last short carry, where Brule Lake empties into Temperance River, we perceived a party that just finished their portage. They were to be our guide for the remainder of the trip. Today's pairings were Max and Colin, Jim and John, Dave and Jack as well as James and I.
Always worried to be left behind, Mellie jumped into Max and Colin's canoe. We let her, but soon realized that she was leaning so heavily towards my direction that she made paddling a chore. So we made a mid-lake dog-canoe exchange, a feat that Mellie and all others involved handled with aplomb.
We had a slight headwind today, making the five miles on Brule Lake not any easier. The guide books all caution on windy days on this large lake. Fortunately it was nothing like our maiden trip on Burntside Lake in 2006, which is even larger. I have to say that my hands were numb from paddling for the next week. We crossed the lake in about two hours. We came by several occupied camp sites and were again thankful to have found our spot on South Temperance Lake yesterday evening.
When we had about ¾ of the way behind us, there was no holding back Colin and Max. They hurried back to the landing and made it there 10 minutes before the rest of us. Gear and canoes were quickly stowed and Dave and I took our traditional bath before heading back. It felt good to wash off the grime of today and put on the fresh change of clothes I kept in the car for that purpose.
I love the drive from the hills down to the north shore of Lake Superior on a beautiful day. The lake looks like an ocean, blue and endless. Since it's Sunday, no construction traffic. The inspection at the outfitters revealed one small hole in a canoe, must have been one of the stumbles. They graciously let us off with a warning.
We decided to check out Two Harbors for the post-adventure feast. Jim got past us when we had to stop when James really needed to go. We caught them again when they needed to stop for gas and met at the Two Harbors McDonald. Then it was non-stop to St. Paul, with the exception of one major slowdown for the North Branch construction area.
Portage 50m
Brule Lake (559m)
Amazing how quickly we got those guys up this morning. The horses must be smelling the barn. We had made the last of the coffee, a quick but calorific breakfast, broke camp and were off. As we approached the last short carry, where Brule Lake empties into Temperance River, we perceived a party that just finished their portage. They were to be our guide for the remainder of the trip. Today's pairings were Max and Colin, Jim and John, Dave and Jack as well as James and I.
 |
| From 2009_52_BWCA Just enough time for a group picture |
Always worried to be left behind, Mellie jumped into Max and Colin's canoe. We let her, but soon realized that she was leaning so heavily towards my direction that she made paddling a chore. So we made a mid-lake dog-canoe exchange, a feat that Mellie and all others involved handled with aplomb.
 |
| From 2009_52_BWCA Mellie wants to switch canoes ... |
We had a slight headwind today, making the five miles on Brule Lake not any easier. The guide books all caution on windy days on this large lake. Fortunately it was nothing like our maiden trip on Burntside Lake in 2006, which is even larger. I have to say that my hands were numb from paddling for the next week. We crossed the lake in about two hours. We came by several occupied camp sites and were again thankful to have found our spot on South Temperance Lake yesterday evening.
When we had about ¾ of the way behind us, there was no holding back Colin and Max. They hurried back to the landing and made it there 10 minutes before the rest of us. Gear and canoes were quickly stowed and Dave and I took our traditional bath before heading back. It felt good to wash off the grime of today and put on the fresh change of clothes I kept in the car for that purpose.
I love the drive from the hills down to the north shore of Lake Superior on a beautiful day. The lake looks like an ocean, blue and endless. Since it's Sunday, no construction traffic. The inspection at the outfitters revealed one small hole in a canoe, must have been one of the stumbles. They graciously let us off with a warning.
We decided to check out Two Harbors for the post-adventure feast. Jim got past us when we had to stop when James really needed to go. We caught them again when they needed to stop for gas and met at the Two Harbors McDonald. Then it was non-stop to St. Paul, with the exception of one major slowdown for the North Branch construction area.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Day 4: Long Island Lake to South Temperance Lake
Long Island Lake (537m)
Portage 25m
Long Island River
Portage 140m
Gordon Lake (541m)
Portage 65m
Cherokee Lake (545m)
Portage 700m (crossing the continental divide at about 576m)
Sitka Lake (559m)
Portage 530m
North Temperance Lake (560m)
Portage 276m
South Temperance Lake (557m)
Camp at eastern-most camp site on S Temperance Lake
Nice to emerge from sleep n the middle of the night and not hear rain drops falling on the tent! We had been able to dry everything during the previous day and even store away the rain tarps. Jim and I got coffee, which by now had to be rationed to last us through the following morning. But it was plenty. The boys, who had been clamoring for an early start and, if possible, and early exit from the BWCA, were as usual hard to rouse. The word of breakfast finally got them going. Oatmeal and various other trimmings were on the menu this morning. Amazing how much easier it is to take down camp when everything is dry! We were on the water by about 11:00 AM, heading for Long Island River in the SE corner of the lake. We mixed up the crews a little bit and had the following canoes: Colin and Max (no change), James and Jack, Jim and John and Dave and myself. Max and Colin and even James and Jack now paddle almost as strongly as adults. During the shorter portages of today, we also got the older boys started on carrying the canoes. I am confident that next time they will be able to do so without further direction.
This must have been one of the most beautiful stretches I ever paddled. The sunny skies and still air enhanced the experience, as did the good spirits of the group.
The initial shorter portages were done very quickly and with routine. As usual during this trip, big boulders on the path made carrying the loads a little tricky, but at least today, they were not wet ad slippery. Dave and I were in the lead, which posed a little problem since we did not have a map. We took wrong turns at several occasions and the biggest blunder of the day was made when we went to a bay at the SE end of Gordon Lake instead of the portage to Cherokee Lake despite studying the map. But I would chalk this up as a little sight-seeing excursion.
Now we were climbing at each portage to make up the altitude we had lost on our journey to Long Island Lake. The portage from Gordon to Cherokee Lake was no different. There was a little incident over a spider in one of the canoes which brought the rivalry between John and James to the surface. Colin, ever skittish and dramatic about creepy-crawlies of any type, squealed like pig (sorry you pigs out there, that's what it sounded like) at the sight of a small spider. John tried to squish the spider with a stick and I, scooping up the spider with my hands, asked him not to just kill undesirable animals. Under my breath I also muttered “you don't need to kill everything,” upon which James said “yeah, you don't need to kill everything.” I told James to quit it and John whacked James with a stick. Jim and I told those two to stop it, and John whacked James again. Those two had been needling each other off and on, but this was a s bad as it got. A few minutes later, we were all paddling again, but John pouted for quite a while.
Cherokee Lake lives up to the hype, it IS a beautiful lake. But it is also busy. Many of the campsites were occupied and we saw a couple of parties paddling, one fairly closely. I don't get why people don't respond to a friendly wave. Do they resent to run into others? We broke for lunch on a little island at the south end of Cherokee Lake. I found an ancient tent stake, all rusty, which must date from the days before the BWCA had been created: somebody must have pitched a tent on this little rock in the water a long time ago.
Now came the last major portage of the trip, half a mile to Sitka Lake, with a good climb up to about 576m, again crossing the Laurentian divide. Sitka Lake is not as small as it looks on the map, beautifully nestled among th surrounding hills. But we were pressing on to make it to North Temperance Lake, where we hoped to camp for the last night in the Boundary Waters. During the portage to North Temperance, Colin came back after dropping his pack, telling me there was someone at the other end. The way he said it sounded funny and I wondered what lay ahead. This would be the first time that we had to share a portage. I made sure that Mellie was within voice distance, because I did not want to scare the other party. It turned out to be a young man, possibly suffering from autism, he was utterly terrified of Mellie, who stayed back very respectfully. The rest of his party, probably his dad and his sister came in and said when they saw Mellie emerge from the woods, they thought it was a bear. Pretty funy, in hindsight, but I am sure that they did not think so. But now we could all laugh about it. This party thought there were some sites remaining on N Temperance. We hurried to finish the portage and headed out, Dave and I in the lead. As we approached the campsite, we noticed another canoe heading for it. They were just a little closer and made it before us. They got there firs, fair and square. What I did not appreciate was that they left again, reserving the site by leaving a pack, to scout out other opportunities on the lake. This is the first time in my 10+ trips to the BWCA that I became aware of competition for camping spots.
Dejected, we left, heading for South Temperance Lake. The south end of the lake had been ravaged by the 1999 blowdown. The trees were a jumble mess of impenetrable logs. We discussed what it must have been like to experience this on that fateful 4th of July weekend. Certainly no easy way out,
Dave and I formed the advance party and rushed to South Temperance to scout out and hopefully claim a site. Another disappointment, all sites on the main part of this lake were occupied. Dejected, we left for to check out the last remaining site near the exit to Brule Lake. It was hard to see, looked more like the start of a portage trail but was available. Another unassuming site that turned out quite comfortable for a larger party. On the downside, there was little in way of providing access to the lake, certainly no fishing from shore. But there was interesting wildlife watching opportunities: gangs of 20 or so mergansers followed the shorelines of our estuary, in what seemed to be a communal fishing opration chasing what ever prey they could dislodge ahead of them. Mellie and I discovered some freshly cut trails near the throne, which was quite a ways back in the woods. Curiously we entered this labyrinth of trails to find out that they were the result of a beaver family's logging operation. The beavers let us know with loud claps on the water that we were not welcome in their neighborhood.
The tents were quickly pitched and my Beef Stroganoff consisting of rehydrated beef jerkey was cooking. When I started with dinner preparations, I had to deal with a mutiny from the ranks. They thought that soaking jerkey was wasteful. But once dinner was done, everybody lined up to claim their portion, and most came back for seconds of beef, gravy, couscous and green peas. For dessert, we had the remaining s'more trimmings. Another dinner with no leftovers.
Another beautiful starlit night, but no comfortable seat by water's edge. We did not last very long. James and Jack, planning this coming winter's ski and snowboard outings was the last I heard that night.
Portage 25m
Long Island River
Portage 140m
Gordon Lake (541m)
Portage 65m
Cherokee Lake (545m)
Portage 700m (crossing the continental divide at about 576m)
Sitka Lake (559m)
Portage 530m
North Temperance Lake (560m)
Portage 276m
South Temperance Lake (557m)
Camp at eastern-most camp site on S Temperance Lake
Nice to emerge from sleep n the middle of the night and not hear rain drops falling on the tent! We had been able to dry everything during the previous day and even store away the rain tarps. Jim and I got coffee, which by now had to be rationed to last us through the following morning. But it was plenty. The boys, who had been clamoring for an early start and, if possible, and early exit from the BWCA, were as usual hard to rouse. The word of breakfast finally got them going. Oatmeal and various other trimmings were on the menu this morning. Amazing how much easier it is to take down camp when everything is dry! We were on the water by about 11:00 AM, heading for Long Island River in the SE corner of the lake. We mixed up the crews a little bit and had the following canoes: Colin and Max (no change), James and Jack, Jim and John and Dave and myself. Max and Colin and even James and Jack now paddle almost as strongly as adults. During the shorter portages of today, we also got the older boys started on carrying the canoes. I am confident that next time they will be able to do so without further direction.
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| From 2009_52_BWCA Someplace along Long Island River |
This must have been one of the most beautiful stretches I ever paddled. The sunny skies and still air enhanced the experience, as did the good spirits of the group.
The initial shorter portages were done very quickly and with routine. As usual during this trip, big boulders on the path made carrying the loads a little tricky, but at least today, they were not wet ad slippery. Dave and I were in the lead, which posed a little problem since we did not have a map. We took wrong turns at several occasions and the biggest blunder of the day was made when we went to a bay at the SE end of Gordon Lake instead of the portage to Cherokee Lake despite studying the map. But I would chalk this up as a little sight-seeing excursion.
Now we were climbing at each portage to make up the altitude we had lost on our journey to Long Island Lake. The portage from Gordon to Cherokee Lake was no different. There was a little incident over a spider in one of the canoes which brought the rivalry between John and James to the surface. Colin, ever skittish and dramatic about creepy-crawlies of any type, squealed like pig (sorry you pigs out there, that's what it sounded like) at the sight of a small spider. John tried to squish the spider with a stick and I, scooping up the spider with my hands, asked him not to just kill undesirable animals. Under my breath I also muttered “you don't need to kill everything,” upon which James said “yeah, you don't need to kill everything.” I told James to quit it and John whacked James with a stick. Jim and I told those two to stop it, and John whacked James again. Those two had been needling each other off and on, but this was a s bad as it got. A few minutes later, we were all paddling again, but John pouted for quite a while.
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| From 2009_52_BWCA Getting ready to portage |
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| From 2009_52_BWCA Mellie, the portage dog |
Cherokee Lake lives up to the hype, it IS a beautiful lake. But it is also busy. Many of the campsites were occupied and we saw a couple of parties paddling, one fairly closely. I don't get why people don't respond to a friendly wave. Do they resent to run into others? We broke for lunch on a little island at the south end of Cherokee Lake. I found an ancient tent stake, all rusty, which must date from the days before the BWCA had been created: somebody must have pitched a tent on this little rock in the water a long time ago.
Now came the last major portage of the trip, half a mile to Sitka Lake, with a good climb up to about 576m, again crossing the Laurentian divide. Sitka Lake is not as small as it looks on the map, beautifully nestled among th surrounding hills. But we were pressing on to make it to North Temperance Lake, where we hoped to camp for the last night in the Boundary Waters. During the portage to North Temperance, Colin came back after dropping his pack, telling me there was someone at the other end. The way he said it sounded funny and I wondered what lay ahead. This would be the first time that we had to share a portage. I made sure that Mellie was within voice distance, because I did not want to scare the other party. It turned out to be a young man, possibly suffering from autism, he was utterly terrified of Mellie, who stayed back very respectfully. The rest of his party, probably his dad and his sister came in and said when they saw Mellie emerge from the woods, they thought it was a bear. Pretty funy, in hindsight, but I am sure that they did not think so. But now we could all laugh about it. This party thought there were some sites remaining on N Temperance. We hurried to finish the portage and headed out, Dave and I in the lead. As we approached the campsite, we noticed another canoe heading for it. They were just a little closer and made it before us. They got there firs, fair and square. What I did not appreciate was that they left again, reserving the site by leaving a pack, to scout out other opportunities on the lake. This is the first time in my 10+ trips to the BWCA that I became aware of competition for camping spots.
Dejected, we left, heading for South Temperance Lake. The south end of the lake had been ravaged by the 1999 blowdown. The trees were a jumble mess of impenetrable logs. We discussed what it must have been like to experience this on that fateful 4th of July weekend. Certainly no easy way out,
Dave and I formed the advance party and rushed to South Temperance to scout out and hopefully claim a site. Another disappointment, all sites on the main part of this lake were occupied. Dejected, we left for to check out the last remaining site near the exit to Brule Lake. It was hard to see, looked more like the start of a portage trail but was available. Another unassuming site that turned out quite comfortable for a larger party. On the downside, there was little in way of providing access to the lake, certainly no fishing from shore. But there was interesting wildlife watching opportunities: gangs of 20 or so mergansers followed the shorelines of our estuary, in what seemed to be a communal fishing opration chasing what ever prey they could dislodge ahead of them. Mellie and I discovered some freshly cut trails near the throne, which was quite a ways back in the woods. Curiously we entered this labyrinth of trails to find out that they were the result of a beaver family's logging operation. The beavers let us know with loud claps on the water that we were not welcome in their neighborhood.
The tents were quickly pitched and my Beef Stroganoff consisting of rehydrated beef jerkey was cooking. When I started with dinner preparations, I had to deal with a mutiny from the ranks. They thought that soaking jerkey was wasteful. But once dinner was done, everybody lined up to claim their portion, and most came back for seconds of beef, gravy, couscous and green peas. For dessert, we had the remaining s'more trimmings. Another dinner with no leftovers.
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| From 2009_52_BWCA Last night in BWCA |
Another beautiful starlit night, but no comfortable seat by water's edge. We did not last very long. James and Jack, planning this coming winter's ski and snowboard outings was the last I heard that night.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Day 3: Layover Day on Long Island Lake
Whenever I woke during that night I listened intently for the rain. Most of the time, it was a steady light rain, but sometimes it seemed to have stopped, and the noise on the rain fly seemed to be coming from drops falling off the tree branches above our tent. When I finally crawled out of the tent, the rain had almost stopped, but low clouds still raced over the lake and did not seem to promise any improvement. We got coffee going and a good fire. This was supposed to be our by-day, for a little R&R. I had my doubts on the benefits of this if this was to be another wet day, but the weather forecast had promised a change for the better. So we stayed put and hoped for the best.
As the boys emerged one by one from their tents, humid and a little chilled, we began to dry some clothing items by the fire. A solid stack of pancakes and bacon provided a good base for the day and lo and behold, by about 10:00 AM we saw the first breaks in the clouds. By 11:00 it was easy to see the end of the front with blue sky a few miles west and by noon we were bathed in warm sunshine. The spiderweb of ropes holding up our two tarps filled up with sleeping bags and various clothing items and fair-weather activities were being planned for the remainder of the day.
Jack and James were eager to get a move on a little fishing expedition to a small rocky island a couple hundred meters from our campsite. John joined them for this. Colin attempted to strike out on his own but was thwarted by some ill winds coming from the wrong direction. He ended up joining Jim and was deposited at the island as well. But the fish weren't biting, neither for the guys on the island nor for me, trying m luck from shore with the fly rod and a woolly bugger.
Before long, Jack and James and Jim, John and Colin tried their luck paddling around the larger island just south of our site. Interesting fact about this island: it must have burnt during the Famine Lake Fire. While the distance from the mainland south of Long Island Lake was much larger, the fire jumped from there to the island, but not the 50m to our shore.
Dave and I went for a swim, Mellie couldn't stand being left behind and followed. Dave coaxed her to swim to the rocky outpost from where the boys had been fishing earlier today while I continued to the island with the campsite which had been vacated by a group earlier today. From afar it had looked like a better site, but closer inspection revealed that none of the tent sites were level and that the large rocky surface was falling rather too steeply to the lake. I am glad we had the site we ended up getting rather than this one. I left, heading to pick up Dave and Mellie, swimming by yet a third island to check out the potential for diving, since it had some steep cliffs. Unfortunately, there were rocks near the surface all along the shore. When I got to Dave, Mellie was besides herself with excitement over seeing me. We jumped in and swam back to our site. Mellie surprised me with how fast she can swim now, mch faster than I, doing the breast stroke. I have to teach her to pull a human, then she can pull me, like she does already on skis.
I got a little chilled during my swim and put on layers to warm up. In the meantime we heard the fishing party return. I had some fun throwing a ball right in front of Jack and James' canoe just before they came into view, startling them with an explosive emergence of a big black dog, out of nowhere. Our anglers had been unsuccessful. Everyone claimed to have had some bites, but I wonder whether those were some snares in the weeds or rocks. It was not a good fishing day, with the recent passing of a cold front.
It was time for dinner preparations, Jim was making chicken enchiladas with all the trimmings, including fresh peppers! Good thing we did not have to rely on our luck catching fish since Jim had been able round up the elusive foil-sealed chicken at no other place than Menards, practically by accident, as this is a lumber yard and not a grocery store. Dinner was delicious, I vote this the best food of the trip! Everyone gobbled up their portions and went back for seconds. Another meal with full stomachs and no leftovers! As night fell, we took out marshmallows, Hershey bars and Graham crackers for the obligatory s'more dessert.
The starry sky was just incredible that night helped greatly by the new moon and the absence of any haze. Jim involved the boys in a deeply philosophical discussion about eternity, infinity and beyond. He has such a great way to engage them and makes them feel at easy while challenging them to share their views. Some of the boys were clearly uncomfortable with that, but Colin boldly proclaimed his beliefs, as usual on the top of his lungs. After the boys finally turned in, the dads sat by the water enjoying a spot of brandy with their own astro-philosophical musings. I saw probably five shooting stars during that time.
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| From 2009_52_BWCA Finally drying out at Long Island Lake Camp |
As the boys emerged one by one from their tents, humid and a little chilled, we began to dry some clothing items by the fire. A solid stack of pancakes and bacon provided a good base for the day and lo and behold, by about 10:00 AM we saw the first breaks in the clouds. By 11:00 it was easy to see the end of the front with blue sky a few miles west and by noon we were bathed in warm sunshine. The spiderweb of ropes holding up our two tarps filled up with sleeping bags and various clothing items and fair-weather activities were being planned for the remainder of the day.
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| From 2009_52_BWCA |
Jack and James were eager to get a move on a little fishing expedition to a small rocky island a couple hundred meters from our campsite. John joined them for this. Colin attempted to strike out on his own but was thwarted by some ill winds coming from the wrong direction. He ended up joining Jim and was deposited at the island as well. But the fish weren't biting, neither for the guys on the island nor for me, trying m luck from shore with the fly rod and a woolly bugger.
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| From 2009_52_BWCA |
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| From 2009_52_BWCA |
Before long, Jack and James and Jim, John and Colin tried their luck paddling around the larger island just south of our site. Interesting fact about this island: it must have burnt during the Famine Lake Fire. While the distance from the mainland south of Long Island Lake was much larger, the fire jumped from there to the island, but not the 50m to our shore.
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| From 2009_52_BWCA Colin fighting a strong westerly breeze |
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| From 2009_52_BWCA |
Dave and I went for a swim, Mellie couldn't stand being left behind and followed. Dave coaxed her to swim to the rocky outpost from where the boys had been fishing earlier today while I continued to the island with the campsite which had been vacated by a group earlier today. From afar it had looked like a better site, but closer inspection revealed that none of the tent sites were level and that the large rocky surface was falling rather too steeply to the lake. I am glad we had the site we ended up getting rather than this one. I left, heading to pick up Dave and Mellie, swimming by yet a third island to check out the potential for diving, since it had some steep cliffs. Unfortunately, there were rocks near the surface all along the shore. When I got to Dave, Mellie was besides herself with excitement over seeing me. We jumped in and swam back to our site. Mellie surprised me with how fast she can swim now, mch faster than I, doing the breast stroke. I have to teach her to pull a human, then she can pull me, like she does already on skis.
I got a little chilled during my swim and put on layers to warm up. In the meantime we heard the fishing party return. I had some fun throwing a ball right in front of Jack and James' canoe just before they came into view, startling them with an explosive emergence of a big black dog, out of nowhere. Our anglers had been unsuccessful. Everyone claimed to have had some bites, but I wonder whether those were some snares in the weeds or rocks. It was not a good fishing day, with the recent passing of a cold front.
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| From 2009_52_BWCA Bald eagle, just across narrows from camp |
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| From 2009_52_BWCA |
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| From 2009_52_BWCA Jim fixing the big enchilada |
It was time for dinner preparations, Jim was making chicken enchiladas with all the trimmings, including fresh peppers! Good thing we did not have to rely on our luck catching fish since Jim had been able round up the elusive foil-sealed chicken at no other place than Menards, practically by accident, as this is a lumber yard and not a grocery store. Dinner was delicious, I vote this the best food of the trip! Everyone gobbled up their portions and went back for seconds. Another meal with full stomachs and no leftovers! As night fell, we took out marshmallows, Hershey bars and Graham crackers for the obligatory s'more dessert.
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| From 2009_52_BWCA |
The starry sky was just incredible that night helped greatly by the new moon and the absence of any haze. Jim involved the boys in a deeply philosophical discussion about eternity, infinity and beyond. He has such a great way to engage them and makes them feel at easy while challenging them to share their views. Some of the boys were clearly uncomfortable with that, but Colin boldly proclaimed his beliefs, as usual on the top of his lungs. After the boys finally turned in, the dads sat by the water enjoying a spot of brandy with their own astro-philosophical musings. I saw probably five shooting stars during that time.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Day 2: Winchell Lake to Long Island Lake
Winchell Lake (579m)
Portage 250m
Omega Lake (584m)
Portage 175m (crossing the Laurentian continental divide, with a steep climb up to 600m)
Kiskadinna Lake (585m)
Portage 960m (longest portage on this trip)
Muskeg Lake (539m)
Portage 60m
River
Portage 125m
Long Island Lake (537m)
Camp on south side of large peninsula close to middle of Long Island Lake
The night was uneventful but not very restful since my new summer sleeping bag was a tad too light for a cool and rainy BWCA night. Around 6:00 AM or so, Mellie, next-door in the kid's tent started making noises. Before I made it out, James had already let her out. I did notice a faint odor of vomit but did not pay attention. Despite a lively wind, a thick fog lay over the lake, I could hardly see farther than 100m. Off and on, light rain squalls moved through. I started busying myself around camp and somehow got back to the younger guy's tent. There was indeed a puddle of throw-up right in front of their door. Who had gotten sick and would he still be sick? Jim, Dave and I took bets on who of the kids might have been the one. I tipped James, because he ate more than usual, Dave thought it might have been Jack. As the kids emerged from their tents, it became clear that a large part of their clothing and sleeping bags had been soaked. Especially the tent of the younger guys had standing water inside. We hauled everything out and started breaking camp.
It turned out James had been sick. He agreed that the steak may have been a little too large for him and he understandably had a ravenous hunger. We made hot oatmeal, which came across very well with everyone. The rain stopped, the fog lifted and there was even a break in the clouds. We spread out all the wet gear and tried to get it a little drier. Hard to do with humidity at close to 100%. We ended up stuffing everything as good as we could and were ready to take off by 11:30.
By now, rainclouds were threatening again and a stiff south-easterly wind made the first quarter mile challenging. Fortunately, we turned north and west as we headed to Omega Lake.
The portage to Omega was not too bad, and the lake, even seen through the mist of gentle drizzle had a rugged beauty, its arms making it seem labyrinthine. We took the first narrow passage leading due west, eased along by those SE winds. The continuous spray of the very fine rain made the paddle seem longer but we made it to the portage ate the west end of Omega Lake in good time. The portage was somewhat of a shock: though only less than 200m long, the trail climbed steeply straight up a rocky slope, gaining about 16m before descending just as steeply to Kiskadinna Lake. The descent was particularly tricky as there was a tight dogleg close to the bottom, right next to a rockface, which was hard to negotiate carrying a canoe. Several 50cm steps on either side didn't help either. I knew we were close to the Laurentian divide, but I had to wait till our return to confirm (in Beymer, R. Boundary Waters, Vol. 2, p.96) that we had indeed crossed the divide between the Atlantic drainage to the Arctic Ocean drainage on this portage. While USGS Topo maps have the divides in their map keys, I could not find them on the online versions of their maps.
As we paddled along Kiskadinna, we discussed where to have lunch, before or after the next portage. The consensus was before. Everyone remembered that I said at one point, the portage would be only a short paddle away. Somehow, in the relentless drizzle, the 3+km seemed much longer, though we were charmed by a pair of loons diving and reappearing right next to our canoe. We were first to arrive, and instead of waiting for everyone to unload, one by one at the narrow landing, I decided to carry a canoe and a pack for some way on this, our longest portage of the trip, possibly to return for lunch, another load and some leap-frogging action. I climbed steeply for a short distance and then stayed level on what was possibly the best portage surface during this trip, but when I got to the top of the escarpment, where I had planned to drop my gear before returning for lunch, I could just not do it. I pushed on and descended in several steep steps the remaining distance, occasionally balancing precariously atop boulders submerged in muck and water and losing 46 altitude meters (147 ft) by the time I reached Muskeg Lake.
I hurried back but by the time I got there, everyone had finished eating and was busy loading their packs. There was hardly anything left to carry (courtesy of our strong boys) so I just grabbed the remaining canoe, which felt light without the extra weight of a pack. I believe that we moved from double-portaging each portage, we were able to cut this chore down to 1.5 portages.
Only Muskeg Lake and two short portages now separated us from today's goal, Long Island Lake. Our rising spirits were to be challenged by what lay ahead. The first short portage was indeed easy. The short stretch of meandering creek was quaint and for the first time, we noticed several types of wild flowers. We also entered the area of the 2006 Famine Lake fire, the most prevalent wild flour was fire weed. The shock came with the next portage: over an active and very soggy beaver dam and then an obstacle course through a very rocky trail. Poor Dave almost fell twice and had to drop the canoe in order to avoid injury. On top of it, the rain had started again with some more force. We hurried onto Long Island Lake, ominously flanked by the remnants of burnt trees. As we rounded the exit of the first bay, first Colin and Max and then James and Jim got stuck on a submerged rock. It is hard to anticipate obstacles on such a large body of water. Heading towards the island with the first camp site, I saw from afar that it was occupied, two guys fishing from shore, stone-faced, not returning our wave as we passed them. When I entered the strait leading to the site we had picked for the night, I also notice that the site on the island across from it was taken, too. I hoped sincerely that we would not have to move on, everyone was exhausted and wet, we needed to put up camp. Fortunately, I needn't had to worry, the site was available. Initially, it seemed like a second rate site since there was not much open shoreline. But the campsites level, good-sized and, more importantly, there were plenty of trees where we could stretch our tarps close to the fire. We unloaded, and after pitching the tents, the juveniles were close to the end. No way we could coax them to go look for firewood. Fortunately, there was plenty of wood nearby from blowdowns. I had not seen smoke from our neighbors' sites but undeterred. Everyone went to their damp sleeping bags rather quickly tonight and was soothed to sleep by the sound of steady rain.
Portage 250m
Omega Lake (584m)
Portage 175m (crossing the Laurentian continental divide, with a steep climb up to 600m)
Kiskadinna Lake (585m)
Portage 960m (longest portage on this trip)
Muskeg Lake (539m)
Portage 60m
River
Portage 125m
Long Island Lake (537m)
Camp on south side of large peninsula close to middle of Long Island Lake
The night was uneventful but not very restful since my new summer sleeping bag was a tad too light for a cool and rainy BWCA night. Around 6:00 AM or so, Mellie, next-door in the kid's tent started making noises. Before I made it out, James had already let her out. I did notice a faint odor of vomit but did not pay attention. Despite a lively wind, a thick fog lay over the lake, I could hardly see farther than 100m. Off and on, light rain squalls moved through. I started busying myself around camp and somehow got back to the younger guy's tent. There was indeed a puddle of throw-up right in front of their door. Who had gotten sick and would he still be sick? Jim, Dave and I took bets on who of the kids might have been the one. I tipped James, because he ate more than usual, Dave thought it might have been Jack. As the kids emerged from their tents, it became clear that a large part of their clothing and sleeping bags had been soaked. Especially the tent of the younger guys had standing water inside. We hauled everything out and started breaking camp.
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| From 2009_52_BWCA Trying to dry out after a wet night on Winchell Lake |
It turned out James had been sick. He agreed that the steak may have been a little too large for him and he understandably had a ravenous hunger. We made hot oatmeal, which came across very well with everyone. The rain stopped, the fog lifted and there was even a break in the clouds. We spread out all the wet gear and tried to get it a little drier. Hard to do with humidity at close to 100%. We ended up stuffing everything as good as we could and were ready to take off by 11:30.
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| From 2009_52_BWCA Taking off from Winchell Lake Camp |
By now, rainclouds were threatening again and a stiff south-easterly wind made the first quarter mile challenging. Fortunately, we turned north and west as we headed to Omega Lake.
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| From 2009_52_BWCA Ominous skys |
The portage to Omega was not too bad, and the lake, even seen through the mist of gentle drizzle had a rugged beauty, its arms making it seem labyrinthine. We took the first narrow passage leading due west, eased along by those SE winds. The continuous spray of the very fine rain made the paddle seem longer but we made it to the portage ate the west end of Omega Lake in good time. The portage was somewhat of a shock: though only less than 200m long, the trail climbed steeply straight up a rocky slope, gaining about 16m before descending just as steeply to Kiskadinna Lake. The descent was particularly tricky as there was a tight dogleg close to the bottom, right next to a rockface, which was hard to negotiate carrying a canoe. Several 50cm steps on either side didn't help either. I knew we were close to the Laurentian divide, but I had to wait till our return to confirm (in Beymer, R. Boundary Waters, Vol. 2, p.96) that we had indeed crossed the divide between the Atlantic drainage to the Arctic Ocean drainage on this portage. While USGS Topo maps have the divides in their map keys, I could not find them on the online versions of their maps.
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| From 2009_52_BWCA |
As we paddled along Kiskadinna, we discussed where to have lunch, before or after the next portage. The consensus was before. Everyone remembered that I said at one point, the portage would be only a short paddle away. Somehow, in the relentless drizzle, the 3+km seemed much longer, though we were charmed by a pair of loons diving and reappearing right next to our canoe. We were first to arrive, and instead of waiting for everyone to unload, one by one at the narrow landing, I decided to carry a canoe and a pack for some way on this, our longest portage of the trip, possibly to return for lunch, another load and some leap-frogging action. I climbed steeply for a short distance and then stayed level on what was possibly the best portage surface during this trip, but when I got to the top of the escarpment, where I had planned to drop my gear before returning for lunch, I could just not do it. I pushed on and descended in several steep steps the remaining distance, occasionally balancing precariously atop boulders submerged in muck and water and losing 46 altitude meters (147 ft) by the time I reached Muskeg Lake.
I hurried back but by the time I got there, everyone had finished eating and was busy loading their packs. There was hardly anything left to carry (courtesy of our strong boys) so I just grabbed the remaining canoe, which felt light without the extra weight of a pack. I believe that we moved from double-portaging each portage, we were able to cut this chore down to 1.5 portages.
Only Muskeg Lake and two short portages now separated us from today's goal, Long Island Lake. Our rising spirits were to be challenged by what lay ahead. The first short portage was indeed easy. The short stretch of meandering creek was quaint and for the first time, we noticed several types of wild flowers. We also entered the area of the 2006 Famine Lake fire, the most prevalent wild flour was fire weed. The shock came with the next portage: over an active and very soggy beaver dam and then an obstacle course through a very rocky trail. Poor Dave almost fell twice and had to drop the canoe in order to avoid injury. On top of it, the rain had started again with some more force. We hurried onto Long Island Lake, ominously flanked by the remnants of burnt trees. As we rounded the exit of the first bay, first Colin and Max and then James and Jim got stuck on a submerged rock. It is hard to anticipate obstacles on such a large body of water. Heading towards the island with the first camp site, I saw from afar that it was occupied, two guys fishing from shore, stone-faced, not returning our wave as we passed them. When I entered the strait leading to the site we had picked for the night, I also notice that the site on the island across from it was taken, too. I hoped sincerely that we would not have to move on, everyone was exhausted and wet, we needed to put up camp. Fortunately, I needn't had to worry, the site was available. Initially, it seemed like a second rate site since there was not much open shoreline. But the campsites level, good-sized and, more importantly, there were plenty of trees where we could stretch our tarps close to the fire. We unloaded, and after pitching the tents, the juveniles were close to the end. No way we could coax them to go look for firewood. Fortunately, there was plenty of wood nearby from blowdowns. I had not seen smoke from our neighbors' sites but undeterred. Everyone went to their damp sleeping bags rather quickly tonight and was soothed to sleep by the sound of steady rain.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Day 1: Brule Lake to Winchell Lake
Brule Lake (559m)
Portage 175 m
South Cone Lake (558m)
Portage 145 m
Mid Cone Lake (558m)
Portage 10 m
North Cone Lake (558m)
Portage 740 m
Cliff Lake (584m)
Portage 95 m
Wanihigan Lake (580m)
Portage 75 m
Winchell Lake (579m)
Camp: closest site across lake, NNE of portage.
One of the rules highlighted by the rangers was to wait for a party to finish at a portage. Now the landing is not quite a portage, certainly plenty of room. But it was amusing to see how everyone was scrambling for position on arrival. I was the first to arrive on an empty landing, parked and immediately started untying the canoes. Shortly thereafter came a Hummer (“flex-fuel,” can you believe the gall?) with four ladies, Jim, and the family we had seen at the station. There was also a party that came in from the lake after a few minutes. Within a very short time, the landing changed from almost deserted to a pandemonic center of activity, not much in way of waiting ones turn. But it worked, and soon we were all packed and ready to go! We must have learned something during the three previous trips since our packs were well organized and ready to load. The other parties were still struggling with their gear while we pushed off. Our initial canoe pairings were Max and Colin, Jim and James, Jack and Dave, and finally, John and myself.
I did notice after I finished packing that I seemed to have less stuff than in previous years, despite having one additional crew member. While I attributed this to greater experience, and in spite of reading and re-reading my checklist, I could not quite shake a nagging feeling that I might have forgotten something important. Tonight I would find out.
Shortly after leaving the bay where the landing is located, we saw our first eagle: a juvenile bald eagle. A gentle ESE breeze provided a welcome push to make it across Brule Lake in good time. Navigation was easy and we soon were in Cone Bay. Portages were different from the ones we encountered along the lakes off Echo Trail: big boulders inconveniently spaced, so you had to watch every step. On the upside, hardly any muddy stretches. And they were short. We double-portaged most, hardly a need to triple up on any. The Cone lakes were a nuisance, but a beautiful one: Short stretches of paddling followed short portages until we reached the major challenge of the day: a 740 m portage between North Cone and Cliff Lakes. I described the typical portage surface above, this one was not any different. In addition, we climbed about 26m over its length. I carried one of our large SeaLine packs and a canoe, and I have to admit that I did not quite have my portage shoulders yet. Three quarters into the portage I positively felt like I was dying. But I made it, we all made it! I got a whiff of how much stronger everyone was this year, as our 13 year-olds and 16 year-olds passed me with their own heavy packs and left me in the dust. At the end of this portage we broke for lunch.
Cliff Lake was the first of a series of lakes typical for this area: long, narrow and oriented east to west. The steep banks were heavily wooded and rose to respectable hills. Occasionally some sheer cliffs interrupted the shoreline. There were a good number of mature white pines mixed in the vegetation and the firs looked lush and healthy. The water levels were high but not did not overflow the banks. JuDave and Jack, hung back to investigate. I believe they never found out what it was.
Just two more short portages and we would be at our destination for today: Winchell Lake, a beautiful lake with high hills falling steeply to the shore along the south side. Somehow, it reminded me of a quiet river in a narrow valley. Just in time, as the sky became increasingly darker and a light rain began falling as we came to the end of Cliff Lake. The rain grew steadily stronger until it ceased, just as we arrived at the campsite we picked for tonight, the closest to the portage from Wanihigan lake.
Fortunately there was a lull in the rain which permitted us to pitch camp in relative dryness. He site was a lovely place, on top of a large rocky outcropping which would have made an ideal bathing spot had the weather been any better. After all tents were pitched and the tarps spanned between ropes, some firewood gathered it was time for a swim. Mostly to wash away the grime of the day, but also just to frolic in the water and soothe those aching shoulders. I swam across Winchell Lake, my goggles allowing me to see the splashes of the raindrops from below the surface. The water was cold, but not so cold to chill me. I made across and took a breather standing waist-deep on top of a submerged boulder. Just as I was leaving for my return lap, two canoes pushed off from the nearby portage. They came within about 30 meters and I shouted a hearty greeting in their direction. I was thinking that I should have met them to tell them that I was the early adopter of a new extreme sport: traveling the BWCA clad in nothing but Speedos and surviving on algae and pine cones. That thought buoyed me until I made it back to camp.
After drying off and putting on some fresh clothes, I started the traditional first night dinner: steak sandwiches. Soon, we had a nice fire going and the steaks on the grill were spattering away. The delicious scent brought the boys, who had been busy playing BS since we were done with setting camp, from their lair. Everyone ate heartily and nothing was left, not even for Mellie. In the meantime, the rain had picked up again and was growing gradually stronger. Dave, Jim and I finished the night with a spot of Quetsch, a Luxembourg rot-gut plum liquor which I had bought in 1984 while serving with the Belgian Army in Cologne, Germany. Just the right occasion for such a libation. We even got a little tipsy.
We crawled into our sleeping bags and fell asleep to the pitter-patter of drops on the rain fly.
Portage 175 m
South Cone Lake (558m)
Portage 145 m
Mid Cone Lake (558m)
Portage 10 m
North Cone Lake (558m)
Portage 740 m
Cliff Lake (584m)
Portage 95 m
Wanihigan Lake (580m)
Portage 75 m
Winchell Lake (579m)
Camp: closest site across lake, NNE of portage.
One of the rules highlighted by the rangers was to wait for a party to finish at a portage. Now the landing is not quite a portage, certainly plenty of room. But it was amusing to see how everyone was scrambling for position on arrival. I was the first to arrive on an empty landing, parked and immediately started untying the canoes. Shortly thereafter came a Hummer (“flex-fuel,” can you believe the gall?) with four ladies, Jim, and the family we had seen at the station. There was also a party that came in from the lake after a few minutes. Within a very short time, the landing changed from almost deserted to a pandemonic center of activity, not much in way of waiting ones turn. But it worked, and soon we were all packed and ready to go! We must have learned something during the three previous trips since our packs were well organized and ready to load. The other parties were still struggling with their gear while we pushed off. Our initial canoe pairings were Max and Colin, Jim and James, Jack and Dave, and finally, John and myself.
I did notice after I finished packing that I seemed to have less stuff than in previous years, despite having one additional crew member. While I attributed this to greater experience, and in spite of reading and re-reading my checklist, I could not quite shake a nagging feeling that I might have forgotten something important. Tonight I would find out.
 |
| From 2009_52_BWCA Crossing Brule Lake, heading NNW towards Cone Bay |
Shortly after leaving the bay where the landing is located, we saw our first eagle: a juvenile bald eagle. A gentle ESE breeze provided a welcome push to make it across Brule Lake in good time. Navigation was easy and we soon were in Cone Bay. Portages were different from the ones we encountered along the lakes off Echo Trail: big boulders inconveniently spaced, so you had to watch every step. On the upside, hardly any muddy stretches. And they were short. We double-portaged most, hardly a need to triple up on any. The Cone lakes were a nuisance, but a beautiful one: Short stretches of paddling followed short portages until we reached the major challenge of the day: a 740 m portage between North Cone and Cliff Lakes. I described the typical portage surface above, this one was not any different. In addition, we climbed about 26m over its length. I carried one of our large SeaLine packs and a canoe, and I have to admit that I did not quite have my portage shoulders yet. Three quarters into the portage I positively felt like I was dying. But I made it, we all made it! I got a whiff of how much stronger everyone was this year, as our 13 year-olds and 16 year-olds passed me with their own heavy packs and left me in the dust. At the end of this portage we broke for lunch.
 |
| From 2009_52_BWCA |
Cliff Lake was the first of a series of lakes typical for this area: long, narrow and oriented east to west. The steep banks were heavily wooded and rose to respectable hills. Occasionally some sheer cliffs interrupted the shoreline. There were a good number of mature white pines mixed in the vegetation and the firs looked lush and healthy. The water levels were high but not did not overflow the banks. JuDave and Jack, hung back to investigate. I believe they never found out what it was.
Just two more short portages and we would be at our destination for today: Winchell Lake, a beautiful lake with high hills falling steeply to the shore along the south side. Somehow, it reminded me of a quiet river in a narrow valley. Just in time, as the sky became increasingly darker and a light rain began falling as we came to the end of Cliff Lake. The rain grew steadily stronger until it ceased, just as we arrived at the campsite we picked for tonight, the closest to the portage from Wanihigan lake.
Fortunately there was a lull in the rain which permitted us to pitch camp in relative dryness. He site was a lovely place, on top of a large rocky outcropping which would have made an ideal bathing spot had the weather been any better. After all tents were pitched and the tarps spanned between ropes, some firewood gathered it was time for a swim. Mostly to wash away the grime of the day, but also just to frolic in the water and soothe those aching shoulders. I swam across Winchell Lake, my goggles allowing me to see the splashes of the raindrops from below the surface. The water was cold, but not so cold to chill me. I made across and took a breather standing waist-deep on top of a submerged boulder. Just as I was leaving for my return lap, two canoes pushed off from the nearby portage. They came within about 30 meters and I shouted a hearty greeting in their direction. I was thinking that I should have met them to tell them that I was the early adopter of a new extreme sport: traveling the BWCA clad in nothing but Speedos and surviving on algae and pine cones. That thought buoyed me until I made it back to camp.
 |
| From 2009_52_BWCA |
After drying off and putting on some fresh clothes, I started the traditional first night dinner: steak sandwiches. Soon, we had a nice fire going and the steaks on the grill were spattering away. The delicious scent brought the boys, who had been busy playing BS since we were done with setting camp, from their lair. Everyone ate heartily and nothing was left, not even for Mellie. In the meantime, the rain had picked up again and was growing gradually stronger. Dave, Jim and I finished the night with a spot of Quetsch, a Luxembourg rot-gut plum liquor which I had bought in 1984 while serving with the Belgian Army in Cologne, Germany. Just the right occasion for such a libation. We even got a little tipsy.
We crawled into our sleeping bags and fell asleep to the pitter-patter of drops on the rain fly.
Drive from Tofte to Brule Lake
I got bright and early by 5:30 AM. After a quick shower I took Mellie for a short walk and breakfast and then headed back in to rouse th troops. By 6:30, everyone was at breakfast and by 7:00 we were checked out and ready to go. Tofte is a great setup, hotel, restaurant, outfitter and ranger station are just minutes from each other. The spiel at the ranger station was routine by now and our guys know all the right answers. Another group heading for Brule Lake came in shortly after us and headed up along with us. Since they left the station before us I assumed they would beat us to Brule Lake.
The ride was uneventful, one minor slowdown on Hwy 61 due to construction. Caribou Trail (Cook Cty. Rd 4) was easy to find, a short distance past Lutsen Ski Area turn-off. We headed due north, up the steep slope away from Lake Superior. After a few miles Caribou Trail turned from smooth blacktop to a good gravel road. Hardly another car, just a couple of service vehicles. We took a left onto forest service rd 170, followed by a right onto Brule Rd (service rd 326). The entire trip took us less than one hour, we arrived at the landing at 8:00 AM.
The ride was uneventful, one minor slowdown on Hwy 61 due to construction. Caribou Trail (Cook Cty. Rd 4) was easy to find, a short distance past Lutsen Ski Area turn-off. We headed due north, up the steep slope away from Lake Superior. After a few miles Caribou Trail turned from smooth blacktop to a good gravel road. Hardly another car, just a couple of service vehicles. We took a left onto forest service rd 170, followed by a right onto Brule Rd (service rd 326). The entire trip took us less than one hour, we arrived at the landing at 8:00 AM.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
St. Paul to Tofte
Left St. Paul at 2:30 PM, under a blue sky. I had Dave, Jack, James and John in the Honda and Jim took Max and Colin in his wagon. The boys were quiet, apart from an occasional chortle. Dave filled me in on his and his families recent developments, including a golf outing with his kids Jack and Madeline where he managed to fell a juvenile goose with a well (or ill?) placed slice. Before the next outing, Madeline thought he needed lessons. I thought we should put Dave in charge of the hunting parties if we were to run out of food.
We arrived in Tofte around 6:00 PM; since we were late for the Forest Service Office we headed straight for Sawtooth Outfitters. To our surprise, they are located right across the street from the main office of Bluefin Bay Resort, where all of us had stayed at one time or another. Somehow we had never noticed the outfitters. The explanation turned out to be simple, Sawtooth had opened its doors only about eight years ago which would postdate our last summer stay in the area.
The good folks at Sawtooth took a no-nonsense approach to getting us set up with four canoes (two Wenonah Boundary Waters and two Wenonah Spirit II ), eight life jackets and eight paddles. Nice, wooden paddles, which helped me to get over the pain of forgetting my brand new Mitchell 7.5 bent shaft paddle at home! I was able to try out the 78" Yakima bars, though, they worked beautifully to carry two canoes.
On to the AmericInn, dropped our overnight bags and headed out for dinner. I thought it would be nice to eat at the restaurant affiliated with Bluefin Bay, but of course they were crowded with their rental guests. A short walk along Lake Superior brought us to Koho, a small restaurant and deli, with excellent pizza and delicious desserts and probably a more relaxed atmosphere. I walked Mellie in to the woods, along a horse trail (from the smell of it, since it was too dark to see by now) and next to the cemetery. A chilly night, I was glad to be back at the hotel since I was only wearing shorts and a t-shirt. We did not stay up long after dinner. After a couple of beers we turned in. Very much to my surprise Colin, James and John did not object too much when I requested the TV to be turned off, long before their usual summer bed time.
We arrived in Tofte around 6:00 PM; since we were late for the Forest Service Office we headed straight for Sawtooth Outfitters. To our surprise, they are located right across the street from the main office of Bluefin Bay Resort, where all of us had stayed at one time or another. Somehow we had never noticed the outfitters. The explanation turned out to be simple, Sawtooth had opened its doors only about eight years ago which would postdate our last summer stay in the area.
The good folks at Sawtooth took a no-nonsense approach to getting us set up with four canoes (two Wenonah Boundary Waters and two Wenonah Spirit II ), eight life jackets and eight paddles. Nice, wooden paddles, which helped me to get over the pain of forgetting my brand new Mitchell 7.5 bent shaft paddle at home! I was able to try out the 78" Yakima bars, though, they worked beautifully to carry two canoes.
On to the AmericInn, dropped our overnight bags and headed out for dinner. I thought it would be nice to eat at the restaurant affiliated with Bluefin Bay, but of course they were crowded with their rental guests. A short walk along Lake Superior brought us to Koho, a small restaurant and deli, with excellent pizza and delicious desserts and probably a more relaxed atmosphere. I walked Mellie in to the woods, along a horse trail (from the smell of it, since it was too dark to see by now) and next to the cemetery. A chilly night, I was glad to be back at the hotel since I was only wearing shorts and a t-shirt. We did not stay up long after dinner. After a couple of beers we turned in. Very much to my surprise Colin, James and John did not object too much when I requested the TV to be turned off, long before their usual summer bed time.
Monday, August 17, 2009
2009 BWCA Trip--Brule Lake, #41
I don't quite remember how we picked Brule Lake as our point of departure for this year's trip. We felt that after leaving three times from Ely was enough for now and that we needed to change. Both Dave and I had bought the Pauly guide book and I recall that we had noticed the same map or chapter.
We discussed taking my black lab Mellie. Based on my assurances that she would not share the tent with the adults, and that she would behave civilized, mostly, Dave and Jim agreed.
A second decision was to get a fourth canoe. Until this year I always rented a 19-footer to accommodate both James and Colin. It became clear last year that we would eventually need another canoe, since the guy in the middle would have little incentive to paddle. And ther would be Mellie, too. Once that decision was made, we needed to make up our minds whether an adult would solo, or whether we would take on an extra team member. We quickly began focusing on the latter option and when I brought up the plight of our nephew John, Dave and Jim were happy to invite him along, for which I am deeply grateful.
We picked Sawtooth Outfitters in Tofte to rent the canoes. Jim Made the reservations. Dave reserved three rooms at the AmericInn in Tofte. Their website bragged to have the "Best breakfast on the North Shore." We planned to leave St. Paul on Tuesday, August 18 at noon to hopefully get the canoes and permit that same night, to be ready to leave bright and early on the 19th.
I spent the three or four days prior to departing with organizing and packing my gear. I had purchased one more large SeaLife pack, based on the experiences with two packs I already owned, I knew that they would be a room, waterproof and very portable option. I owned most of the other gear already.
My packing list included:
We discussed taking my black lab Mellie. Based on my assurances that she would not share the tent with the adults, and that she would behave civilized, mostly, Dave and Jim agreed.
A second decision was to get a fourth canoe. Until this year I always rented a 19-footer to accommodate both James and Colin. It became clear last year that we would eventually need another canoe, since the guy in the middle would have little incentive to paddle. And ther would be Mellie, too. Once that decision was made, we needed to make up our minds whether an adult would solo, or whether we would take on an extra team member. We quickly began focusing on the latter option and when I brought up the plight of our nephew John, Dave and Jim were happy to invite him along, for which I am deeply grateful.
We picked Sawtooth Outfitters in Tofte to rent the canoes. Jim Made the reservations. Dave reserved three rooms at the AmericInn in Tofte. Their website bragged to have the "Best breakfast on the North Shore." We planned to leave St. Paul on Tuesday, August 18 at noon to hopefully get the canoes and permit that same night, to be ready to leave bright and early on the 19th.
I spent the three or four days prior to departing with organizing and packing my gear. I had purchased one more large SeaLife pack, based on the experiences with two packs I already owned, I knew that they would be a room, waterproof and very portable option. I owned most of the other gear already.
My packing list included:
- 2 large (115 liter) SeaLine packs
- 1 small (70 l) SeaLine pack
- 1 Kelty TrailDome 4
- 1 Sierra Designs Clip Flash Light
- 1 Kelty Noa's Tarp
- 3 Thermarest, one foam pad
- 4 sleepingbags
- 1 folding saw
- 1 Coleman Exponent Feather 442
- Coffee press
- Two Wenonah Boundary Waters Kevlar Ultralight, 17'
- Two Wenonah Spirit II Kevlar Ultralight, 17'
- Katadyn Vario filter pump
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Last Questions for Rangers and Outfitters
| Questions for Tofte Rangers: 1. Until when are you open for permit pick-up: Station closes at 5:00 PM 3. from Tofte via Sawbill or from Lutsen: better via Lutsen and Caribou Trail 2. Grassy lake to Wannihigan lake portage towards Winchell? Will discuss current conditions during permit pick-up. Question for Sawtooth Outfitters: asked if we can pick up on Tuesday. They are expecting us at around 6:00 PM on Tuesday. They close at 7:00 PM Sawtooth Outfitters 7213 Hwy 61 PO Box 2214 Tofte, MN 55615 Phone: 218-663-7643 Fax: 218-663-7640 Tofte Ranger District District Ranger: John Wytanis Address: 7355 West Hwy 61 P.O. Box 2159, Tofte, MN 55615 (218) 663-8060 Voice and TTY Email: tofte@fs.fed.us Christian Franken m 612.327.2055 h 651.645.2440 |
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
American Goldfinch Bath
I typically make it into work at Thomson Reuters/West in Eagan by 7:30 AM at the latest. At that time I can park very close to the building entrance. I have become quite a slacker during the summer months and generally get to work by around 8:00. Instead of parking in the middle of one of the huge asphalt lots, I drive to a small outlying lot right along a nice walking path and take the few extra steps to and from the office. The grounds are mostly grasslands, with numerous weeds that are now in full bloom, providing the summer-dry olfactory background of the Great Plains. Colleagues have reported seeing coyotes but so far I have only come across their scat. But I have seen wild turkey and many other birds.
During the last few weeks I noticed a pair of American gold finches that seem to have a nest in the firs along the path. While common, their bright yellow plumage is always a welcome distraction. Yesterday, one of them was taking a bath in a puddle of leftover water from the sprinkler system and flew off only when I was about two steps away.
During the last few weeks I noticed a pair of American gold finches that seem to have a nest in the firs along the path. While common, their bright yellow plumage is always a welcome distraction. Yesterday, one of them was taking a bath in a puddle of leftover water from the sprinkler system and flew off only when I was about two steps away.
Toxicity of DEET?
Sometimes a good thing is just too good to be true. DEET is fairly effective in repelling pesky insects. DEET is believed to work by blinding the insect's senses to certain chemicals produced by humans or animals that trigger the biting/feeding instinct.
A new study (referenced in this BBC article) is concerned about toxic effects of DEET, especially in combination with other chemicals.
I always wondered about applying a chemical to my skin that has a tendency to dissolve plastics. On the other hand is the prospect of serving as a piña colada to swarms of biting insects ...
A new study (referenced in this BBC article) is concerned about toxic effects of DEET, especially in combination with other chemicals.
I always wondered about applying a chemical to my skin that has a tendency to dissolve plastics. On the other hand is the prospect of serving as a piña colada to swarms of biting insects ...
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Urban Fungi
Saw my neighbour Dave this morning, picking up something in his front yard. Told him I hoped it wasn't turds from my dog, he said it was toad stools (what toads sit on or turds of toads???) of some sort. Took a look, definitely something from the bolete family. Made Dave fish the ones he had picked earlier out of his garbage can, and headed home to look them up. More likely than not they are Boletinellus merulioides (also Gyrodon merulioides) Besides the description and the photo, it grows under ash trees. That's where it grew. Unfortunately not the best food mushroom but never the less edible. I will cook it with garlic. What I should really do is to grab my air rifle and get a couple of the young rabbits in my back yard and make a Hasenpfeffer mit Pilzen! That's what I would really call living off the land, especially if I prepare a little tomato salad as a side.
Update Aug 3, 2009: I did just finish my meal of Boletinellus. I have to agree with Roger Phillips' description: edible, but not very good. An aftertaste of mold that belies the nice aroma I smelled while cooking. Glad I did not spoil my Hasenpfeffer with these mushrooms.
Update Aug 3, 2009: I did just finish my meal of Boletinellus. I have to agree with Roger Phillips' description: edible, but not very good. An aftertaste of mold that belies the nice aroma I smelled while cooking. Glad I did not spoil my Hasenpfeffer with these mushrooms.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Planned Route for 2009 BWCA Trip
Good planning meeting on July 29, over a few beers. I am summarizing the route discussion in a map I created. Google maps includes a distance for a plotted route: 26 miles, a marathon, unless we decide on the alternate route, which avoids the Grassy Lake portage of 350 rod portage, but adds 3 miles (in blue). Click the route lines to see a pop-up with details
View 2009 BWCA Planned Route in a larger map
View 2009 BWCA Planned Route in a larger map
Monday, July 27, 2009
Friday, May 8, 2009
Vogt Island Cabin Opening
Mellie looks a little under the weather, John does not.
Leaving on May 9, returning on May 10, just in time for Mother's Day! Another planes, trains and motorboats trip!
View Insel Vogt in a larger map
Little snafu getting to the airport, I called Tom for directions but failed to ask hime what airport, assuming that it was still Anoka. It turned out that we were to meet them in South Saint Paul. I am glad it was not farther away.
Putting in the docks and boat lifts went smoothly though my waders did not make it all the way: they finally gave up, a big rip on the left knee, while kneeling down. oh well, 13 years of service, mostly taking out the docks in the fall ...
Big bonefire burning scrap and junk wood in the evening, and the ceremony of burning Dragon Winter.
A beautiful morning with a happy dog.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Hunting Winnebago Valley
Got up at 4:00 AM, packed the car and headed for John's land. 34F when we got there, but again, no wind. This time I decided to follow Jim up the hill, north of Cty Rd. 5. A steep climb rewarded with beutiful views, and also interesting birds, such as the red bellied woodpecker (Melanerpes carolinus).
View Turkey Hunting--Winnebago Valley (North) in a larger map
Lots of turkeys, fairly close and seemingly coming closer but none close enough to even be seen. On the way down, I admired the flora typical of a southern slope. Many blooming flowers.
After coming out of the woods we headed for Crooked Creek. Coming out at Whitetail Dr, we checked out Crooked Creek but were spooked by a bunch of rowdy teens on various motorized two- and four-wheelers. Headed west on 249 towards Caledonia and parked like the previous day at the top of a hedge crossing the space between road and river. Jim coached me on how to fish several holes and I was moderately successful catching several small trout on a hare's ear nymph. Worked our way downstream and caught several more at a hole out in the open. A caddis hatch was starting and the trout were feeding on the surface.
View Turkey Hunting--Winnebago Valley (North) in a larger map
Lots of turkeys, fairly close and seemingly coming closer but none close enough to even be seen. On the way down, I admired the flora typical of a southern slope. Many blooming flowers.
After coming out of the woods we headed for Crooked Creek. Coming out at Whitetail Dr, we checked out Crooked Creek but were spooked by a bunch of rowdy teens on various motorized two- and four-wheelers. Headed west on 249 towards Caledonia and parked like the previous day at the top of a hedge crossing the space between road and river. Jim coached me on how to fish several holes and I was moderately successful catching several small trout on a hare's ear nymph. Worked our way downstream and caught several more at a hole out in the open. A caddis hatch was starting and the trout were feeding on the surface.
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Hunting Winnebago Valley
After scouting out John's property in Winnebago Valley the previous night, we decided to head there this morning. Got an early start but overshot the house because of our lack of familiarity with the location. Jim headed for the hill on north of the road whil I headed south, crossing the creek at a forth.
View Turkey Hunting--Winebago Valley (South) in a larger map
Lots of gobbling all around, but none of them seemed interested in making my acquaintance.
Headed back to the car and had a funny experience when crossing the creek: in the soft mud by the water I saw one set of fresh boot tracks not matching my own (as well as the tracks of a turkey). I wondered and puzzled and mused until I remembered that I had worn my waders on the way in (still dark), not wanting to risk wet feet. When I returned I decided to keep my knee-high rubber boots, which, it turned out, afforded ample protection from the creek.
At noon we headed for Crooked Creek to fish. Roles were reversed today and I had the most frustrating time losing fly after fly and not getting any strikes while Jim caught a lot of trout, including a 14-incher.
Scared up several great blue herons (Ardea herodias). Saw what I think to be a northern waterthrush (Seiurus noveboracensis) hopping around by the creek and several muskrats (Ondatra zibethicus), very close and quite unafraid, as well as a sunbathing roadside woodchuck (Marmota monax, of the alive, non-roadkill variety, the latter being present, too).
View Turkey Hunting--Winebago Valley (South) in a larger map
Lots of gobbling all around, but none of them seemed interested in making my acquaintance.
Headed back to the car and had a funny experience when crossing the creek: in the soft mud by the water I saw one set of fresh boot tracks not matching my own (as well as the tracks of a turkey). I wondered and puzzled and mused until I remembered that I had worn my waders on the way in (still dark), not wanting to risk wet feet. When I returned I decided to keep my knee-high rubber boots, which, it turned out, afforded ample protection from the creek.
At noon we headed for Crooked Creek to fish. Roles were reversed today and I had the most frustrating time losing fly after fly and not getting any strikes while Jim caught a lot of trout, including a 14-incher.
Scared up several great blue herons (Ardea herodias). Saw what I think to be a northern waterthrush (Seiurus noveboracensis) hopping around by the creek and several muskrats (Ondatra zibethicus), very close and quite unafraid, as well as a sunbathing roadside woodchuck (Marmota monax, of the alive, non-roadkill variety, the latter being present, too).
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