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.
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