Journal

Written by Jim Mancini

“Have you considered using the ‘J’ stroke?"

1 rod = 16.5 feet; 1 mile = 320 rods

Our 2012 trip was a bit of a departure from our typical backpacking adventure as we abandoned the trails and instead hit the water in canoes.  Our destination was the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness in northern Minnesota, close to the Canadian border.  Spending our days in canoes involved developing new skills such as effectively steering the boats (and developing the now infamous “J” stroke”), how to maximize power when paddling, learning to “read” the water, and a bit more map reading and route finding than is typical when on a hike.  We were blessed (and I don’t throw that word around casually) with absolutely perfect conditions: warm, sunny days, almost no wind, and virtual absence of bugs.  The days leading up to our trip were cold with high winds that apparently trapped canoeists at their campsites as the lakes were too dangerous to navigate.  And northern Minnesota was hit by an early season snowstorm a couple of days after our departure.  So our timing was impeccable (and really, really lucky…).  The Boundary Waters ended up being the perfect antidote to the challenges experienced the previous year in Yellowstone (though only Ray and I were present during both trips to appreciate it). 

We chose a late Fall trip as it was supposedly a great time to go with the foliage at its peak, lack of troublesome bugs and people, and a slight chance to see the aurora borealis (which was reported to be at a peak due to the end of a 13 year magnetic cycle coupled with the autumnal equinox).  The trip involved a bit more planning than we are accustomed to as we needed to research the various entry points into the wilderness and routes that we could manage from that point and within the time we had.  After much research, emails from friends of friends, and even some unsolicited treatises from the Boundary Waters Message Board, we narrowed our choices down to four entry points:  Mudro Lake, Saganaga Lake, Cross Bay Lake, and Seagull Lake.  We then communicated with several outfitters in the area to investigate renting gear and arranging for transport to and from the entry point.  We opted for Voyageurs North Outfitter in Ely, MN and finally decided on the Mudro Lake entry point as there were many options for routes in that area and it also avoided needing to cross any of the larger lakes in case there were strong winds.

The trip again began with a hope that we might finally get all six together with early commitments from Drew and Brian (Bri had been absent for six years!).  However, Shawn (who had a new baby and had recently moved to California) was increasingly unlikely as the date approached and finally reported he would not make it about a month or two before our departure.  But five on a trip was also never before accomplished.  Five plane tickets were purchased, final plans were made regarding accommodations and car rental, and Troy weighed in first with a completed pack and weight announcement.  Sadly, just days before our departure, news came that Troy and Shawn had lost their grandfather and Troy would miss this trip.   So, we were down to the familiar group of four (though a group that had never been together before in Drew, Brian, Ray, and myself).  The final days were not without tribulations as Brian’s house was broken into a couple of days before leaving (with heavy losses including his grandmother’s irreplaceable silverware and a new Bose speaker system – not sure which is the greater loss…).  Finally, the day arrived in late September for flights into Minneapolis and for the trip to begin.

Drew, Brian and I all arrived around 11:00AM and we picked up our large, white SUV (designed to comfortably sit five so more than enough space for the four of us).  We made one stop at REI for fuel and additional rope and then went back to the airport to pick up Ray.  We made two stops in Minneapolis.  The first was at a supermarket/liquor store and the second at a seafood market where we bought smoked whitefish and smoked lake trout for our first night’s dinner.   Having acquired our provisions, we drove out of town but made one more stop at Fleet Farm, an enormous farm store that sold everything from bulk candy to horse supplies to guns and ammunition.  We were there to buy pairs of rubber boots that John from Voyageurs had suggested we have for muddy patches and boat launches/landings.  From there, we drove about four hours to Ely, MN, rocking to the now named Crooked Lake mix with heavy MN influences (Husker Du, Replacements, Prince) and several of our album picks (and sampling some of the MN brews we picked up at the liquor store).  Picks for this year were Paul’s Boutique by the Beasties (Brian, and a nice sentimental choice given MCA’s untimely death in May), Tim by the Replacements (Drew), Elephant by the White Stripes (Ray), the Violent Femmes self titled first album, and Troy’s pick, Zen Arcade by Husker Du. Paul’s Boutique was easily the favorite though the Femmes album was also a memorable second best.  We rolled into Ely and stopped at the Ely Steakhouse downtown.  The walleye was pretty tasty and got our hopes up for landing one of the elusive fish during our trip.  We stayed at the Voyageurs North bunkhouse which was located a ½ block from the outfitter on the outskirts of the town.  It was the top floor of a house and had several rooms that had four bunkbeds.  We later realized that we had two of the rooms though we all piled into one room.  We enjoyed another couple of beers while we were repacking our bags for the next day and were awake for the late night arrival of the “Dude and the Princess”, who were friendly and provided us with some sound advice regarding our as yet undecided route.

We awoke early the next morning and walked over to the outfitter to get set up with our boats and gear.  It was a cool and sunny morning and it warmed up as the day progressed with next to no wind.  This set our weather pattern for our four days of perfect weather.  Ray and I had studied the map of the lakes around Mudro and had come up with a similar plan: of trying to get up to Gun Lake and then do a day trip up to the Canadian border.  Once we suggested that to Kevin, the manager on duty at Voyageurs, he suggested we create a long loop along that path, around Crooked Lake, and down the Horse River through Horse Lake.  With that as our plan, Brian and Ray simultaneously thought of reversing that route and beginning on Horse Lake and ending up coming through Fourtown.  It was a great plan and we were lucky to have the sage advice of Kevin and Brian and Ray’s quick and logical thinking.  We bought some final provisions including fishing tackle, finished packing our bags (including beers and fish from the cooler), and packed into a van driven by a young man named Joe (pronounced more like “Joel” in the northern Minnesota accent).  Along the road we saw a guy walking back to a van with a rifle – it was apparently grouse season and the guys driving people out to the lakes kept their guns at their side in case a grouse ran across the road.  We arrived at the entry point along a river and Joe gave us a short lesson on getting the canoes on our shoulders and carried one of our two canoes to the launch site.  We took our pre-trip photo and were off with teams of Brian/Ray and Ray/myself.

Day One:  Mudro Lake entry point to Lower Basswood Falls; about 9.25 miles, Mudro to Sandpit to Tin Can Mike to Horse Lake up the Horse River to Crooked Lake near Lower Basswood Falls.  6 portages totaling 615 rods (almost 2 miles).

We shoved off from the entry point in our teams for the day and navigated a narrow river for a short distance before getting to Mudro Lake.  As this was our first canoe trip, there was a bit of a learning curve at the beginning.  We all came with varying degrees of experience with Brian far and away the most adept canoeist.  Ray had put in some practice and study and Drew and I were easily the most novice in the group.  Steering the canoe from the back position was the most difficult skill to learn during the trip as the front man’s job was to dig in and provide speed and power.  But the man in the rear needed to continually adjust the direction of the boat and switch from side to side depending on what the front man was doing.  Subsequently, the first experience on the water took a little more time as we often went off course (if Bri wasn’t in the back) and did a lot of zigzagging across the first couple of lakes.  Right off the bat, Ray attempted to provide instruction based on his limited study and experience and the now classic phrase “have you considered using the “J” stroke?” was uttered when I was steering in the back (it became infamous when he repeated it on day 2 when he was sharing a boat with Drew – it has now become THE phrase to use when making a passive-aggressive comment about someone else’s skills or anything else for that matter).   

We practiced our paddling skills on the relatively small Mudro Lake and then had our first portage of 83 rods to another small lake, Sandpit Lake.  As we had packed light, we could manage single portages (meaning we could carry all of our gear including the canoes in one trip).  When thinking about it, the only gear we brought that was different than a backpacking trip were the rubber boots and a fish grill basket that was continually bouncing along the outside of my pack (aside from the canoes, paddles, and life preservers).  For each portage, each person carried their pack and we took turns carrying the canoe or the four paddles/three fishing poles.  The canoes were light and the trick was balancing the canoe on your knee and then quickly lifting it up onto your shoulders.  The key was balancing the canoe so the weight was equal in front and behind (otherwise you would hit the nose or the tail of the boat on the ground).  Some of the portages involved a short but steep climb  and descent while others were fairly flat.  We crossed Sandpit and then another 135 rod portage to Tin Can Mike Lake (all research trying to figure out who Tin Can Mike was failed).  We kept moving and portaged another 85 rods into large Horse Lake.  We had passed several groups coming out of the wilderness on our first three lakes (one reporting that they had been windbound on Fourtown Lake for several days).    We saw another group camping on Horse Lake at a spot we had found on the map to stop for lunch.  Instead, we located a sandy beach and made our first stop of the day.  I took my first (and coldest) swim of the trip while the rest of the guys took a walk through the woods and along the shore.  We got back into our boats and paddled about half way up the east side of Horse Lake to the Horse River.  The “rivers” in the Boundary Waters are not what one typically imagines when they picture a river.  First of all, there is little to no current and they are more like watery connectors between lakes.  They are also narrow but can vary from deep to very shallow and can sometimes be congested by vegetation.  As we were travelling at the end of the summer, water levels were very low and the Horse River was at times so shallow that we needed to get out of the boat and slog through the mud (at times our 18 inch boots sunk down below the 18 inch mark and were filled with muddy water).  The rivers were a really interesting ecosystem with a ton of wildlife.  During our long paddle up Horse River, we saw many turtles sunning themselves on rocks and logs, a smallish otter that successfully evaded all attempts to get a good picture of it, we caught several frogs and Drew and Brian saw a beaver swimming in the deepish water.  The river was initially fairly easy to navigate though it became increasingly difficult with crossing and carrying our stuff over rocks (which led to more dunkings) and finally a slow and very muddy slog at the end of the river before getting to Crooked Lake.  The river took us several hours and we finally made it to Crooked Lake fairly tired and ready to be finished.  It took us a little while to figure out how to get to the campsites that were on the map and we finally found a path on the other side of the lake that took us around Lower Basswood Falls (more on that later).   This was our first (illegal) venture into Canada.  We located an excellent campsite across from the falls and put our beers in the lake to cool while we set up the tarp and collected wood for a fire.  Each campsite was equipped with a stove with a cooking grate made out of large rocks and a decent sized space beneath for a fire.  For dinner that night we had smoked whitefish and lake trout and fresh vegetables including radishes and cucumbers along with our Minnesota beers from Surly Brewing Co. (Furious and Cynic were particularly good).  We also sampled our three liquors that were selected for the trip:  Caribou Crossing Canadian Whiskey, Knappogue Castle Irish Whiskey, and Willet Bourbon.  As the sun set, we had a beautiful view of the lake with the falls on the far side and saw two beavers cruising around the lake.  It was during this first night that Drew made the suggestion that we relate some of  our favorite “exploits” of our younger days (the details of which will not be repeated here, as the old saying goes, “what is told in the Boundary Waters, stays in the….”).  We had a sort of mellow night and it got cold very quickly once darkness set in which sent us into our sleeping bags a little on the early side.

Day Two: Crooked Lake along the Canadian border from Lower Basswood Falls to almost Thursday Bay; about 9.5 miles; no portaging

Drew was the first to arise and was found fishing off the rocks near the campsite.  I was up next while Brian and Ray slept in.  We spent a leisurely morning in the campsite, fishing (Drew hooked into one and I snagged a tiny bass), watching beavers tool around the lake, walking around the campsite area, swimming, sewing up a ripped backpack (doing a fairly good job though it didn’t last) and taking short rides in the canoes to check out Lower Basswood “Falls”.  I’m not sure what counts as a waterfall in Minnesota but the title of a “falls” seems kind of stretch for this one.  It was more of a slight series of rapids connecting one portion of Crooked Lake with another.  It is somewhat unique in terms of what was seen in the Boundary Waters and I suppose deserves some sort of designation, and maybe “falls” was what the original voyageurs in the area decided to call it.  As we were eating breakfast, we saw two guys come off the trail on the Canadian side that we had traveled the day before.  They sat there for a good period of time and we thought they were hanging and waiting to grab our spot.  However, they ended up getting back in their canoes and headed east on Crooked Lake into Canada.  We finally packed up our site and got into our boats for our day’s travel.

The teams today were Ray and Drew vs. Brian and me.  I use the word “versus” because of a disputed race that occurred later in the day.  We had another gorgeous day and we took it fairly easy to start.  We headed north on Crooked Lake, where we would spend the next day and a half.  Crooked Lake is the dividing line between Canada and the U.S.  and is fairly narrow across but winds around going east and west, creating the crooked and jagged line between the countries.  At times, there are large bays that jut north into Canada or south into the U.S.A.  So we were always riding right along this dividing line and were sometimes in Canada and at other times back in the states.  Our first stop were some pictographs that had been drawn on steep cliffs next to the lake (Kevin from Voyageurs had marked them on the map for us).  They were reddish brown and depicted moose and birds (and were sometimes more like smudges).  We sat there for five to ten minutes (recalling Drew’s question to Kevin back in Ely about how long we should spend at the pictographs (he had responded, “like five minutes”.)

THE RACE

The “race” was neither long nor grueling.  It began simply with two words from Drew: “Wanna race?” after our 5-10 minutes spent at the pictographs.  Apparently Drew was looking for a little excitement after the pictographs failed to impress.  Whatever the reason, the result of the race will forever be a part of annual trip lore and will undoubtably be disputed and argued about for years to come (despite a fairly clear result).

After agreeing to the race, a point was selected perhaps 100 yards down the lake.  The race was set with Drew and I in the steering seats.  At this point in the trip, it is likely that we were still the two weakest in terms of steering (neither of us having mastered Ray’s infuriating “J” stroke – his scripted line had been overheard being spoken to Drew shortly after setting out).  The race began fairly evenly though Drew soon veered his canoe off course to the right.  Bri and I had a comfortable lead and even with a little steering issue toward the end, it seemed like an easy victory.  Drew and Ray caught up a bit and despite Brian and my boat clearly reaching the finish line first, Drew raised his arms in triumph at the same moment that I also reached to the sky.  Drew immediately argued that they had won.  I respectfully disagreed and even Ray felt that Brian and I had clearly won.  Brian, being the nice guy that he was, said nothing at first though ultimately also agreed that it appeared we had reached the spot first.  Drew obstreperously disagreed.

It is theorized that it was the race and Drew’s disgruntled feelings that ultimately led to an overconsumption of Canadian whiskey on his part later that evening.

The rest of the morning and early afternoon was spent meandering our way north up through Crooked Lake.  We intentionally illegally crossed into Canada into Moose Bay.  That was the one place that Kevin had suggested we should avoid as we would certainly be in Canadian waters, so, of course, we headed straight for it.  In Moose Bay we saw two bald eagles perched on a high branch and we paddled widely to the right in an attempt to come around in front of them and silently glide by their location.  However, they took off as we drew near and flew off up the lake.  We paddled back into the United States and around several long islands, seeing some beautiful Fall colors along the way.  We stopped at Table Rock, a long, flat rock that had reportedly been used by the early trappers as a place to skin their beavers, otters and whatever else they were killing.  Lunch included some cheese and leftover smoked fish.  It was at Table Rock that we had our first pretty overwhelming feeling of how secluded we were.  With no wind and if we all stood still and quiet, the silence in the environment was pretty powerful.  It was an amazing moment and a realization of how rarely we get to experience such moments.  We spent some time sunning ourselves at Table Rock, trying some fishing, and debating whether a garter snake near a rock was dead or not as it did not move even when we came fairly close.  It was finally determined that the snake was indeed alive.  Once getting back into the boats we tried some trolling that led to the loss of our favorite large black spoon lure (favorite not because we had had any luck with it but because it was so heavy that you could cast it for extremely long distances).  We continued north on Crooked Lake, all of us mastering our canoe strokes and realizing that we could “read” where it was slightly windy due to ripples on the water and the direction of the ripples.  Not too important during our perfect weather but a good lesson if we were to hit any higher winds (which we did get a little of later on our last day).  We traveled north and then slightly west on Crooked Lake and located a campsite down a small bay that Kevin had called the “Hilton”.  It was indeed another beautiful site and there was a wide and flat rock with a cliff into the deep water on one side of the site.  We decided to try a little fishing in the canoes and explored our pretty bay with vibrant colors coming from the trees reflected in the perfectly calm water and the setting sun creating an orange-pink sky that was also reflected in the water.  It was another great moment, cruising around the lake with no one around surrounded by some beauty and peacefulness.  We finally returned to the site to gather wood and prepare dinner.  We enjoyed Packit Gourmet’s Tuscan Beef Stew that night along with some remaining vegetables and one beer.  We also hit the whiskey selection and Drew especially enjoyed the Canadian Whiskey.  We had hilarious and insightful conversations that night and came up with many of our observations of the trip.  Some examples included finally deciding upon a beer plan (2 beers for the first night and one beer for each additional night), a hard liquor plan (Bottle of liquor = N-1 with N being the number of people on the trip), discussions about literature and music, and that we all should probably try to get into contact with Barb King. 

An example:

Brian:  I got this really funny book last year, called “Texts from Last Night”,  a collection of regrettable texts compiled into a book

Jim:  I took a look at that book while I was visiting you in Salt Lake last Spring.  Pretty funny but got old after a little while.  Not sure it warranted an entire book.  Would have made a better pamphlet…

Drew:  HA! HA! Gribblzhizphilup!  HA!  Wherb whibkey? (drinks)

Ray: That’s pretty funny.  I can imagine the guy’s meeting with his editor.  (Using a formal voice), “Well, sir, we have enjoyed your work but feel like it might be a little long.  Have you considered putting it into a pamphlet?”

Drew:  HA! HA! HA! Hebarial! Dibilapolitosh!  HA! HA!

Jim:  Yeah, and the guy is like, “a pamphlet?”

Drew:  HAAA!  HA!  HA! Biffuniblech!  (drinks)

Brian:  That’s pretty funny…

Drew:  Hebarial!  Abboluffeuly Hebarial!!  HA! HA! HA!

There was loud mockery of Ray’s J-stroke and the determination that whoever was partnered with Brian was the second best canoeist. Drew became increasingly belligerent and became incensed when revisiting the race results and when he interpreted a comment from me as criticism of is canoeing abilities.  We began seeing several mice on the outskirts of the camp and I luckily decided to check on the bags and saved a large portion of our food from the little beasts.  We did lose all of our mixed nuts, however, as they chewed right through the bag, and we threw them on the fire.  We secured the rest of our bags and hung our food and tried to sit and play pitch.  However, Drew couldn’t see the cards so the game was abandoned.  We did discuss The Lake in the Woods by Tim O’Brien, which Ray, Brian and I had all read.  Drew retired early and the three of us spent a little more time around the fire before also going to bed.

Day Three:  Crooked Lake near Thursday Bay to Gun Lake; about 12 miles; Crooked Lake through Friday Bay to Papoose Lake, Nikki Lake, Wagosh Lake to Gun Lake; three portages totaling 530 rods (about 1 ½ miles) 

I woke up first the next morning and decided to try my hand at fishing (really more enjoying the feeling of slinging one of the remaining large spoons far out into the lake s we had had no luck with fishing to this point and feared we would shut out without Troy’s expertise and guidance).  However, after a little while, I felt a huge hit and fought a pretty large Northern Pike onto the shore.  I let out a loud roar and woke everybody else up in the camp, who came to investigate.  The pike was probably between 16-18 inches and unfortunately had swallowed the hook suffering some trauma when the hook was removed.  We tried to revive the fish by placing it in the shallow water though it soon became clear that it would not survive.  So Brian stoked the fire while I clubbed the pike with a rock, cleaned it, and used the fish grill basket I had lugging along with two days.  The fish was deliciously fresh though pike are quite bony – we had hopes to hook into a walleye which are the prime eating fish in the lakes at some point later in the trip.  The catch created a late start and we leisurely packed up our camp.  Our groupings today were Brian/Ray and Drew/myself and we again took it very easy at the beginning.  We spent some time fishing in spots noted by Kevin from Voyageurs and we had several on (including a walleye that Brian hooked into but did not land) before I caught another enormous Northern Pike, this one at least two feet long.  It got off the hook while in the canoe and it’s snapping jaws nearly took off my toe (as I had dispensed with wearing my rubber boots while in the boat).  We hit our most northerly part of Crooked Lake and crossed several of the large bays that jut south from the lake including Thursday Bay and then headed south through Friday Bay.  We stopped to find an old rusty car that had abandoned from when there had been communities living in the region in the early-mid 1900’s.  The search for the car involved a landing at a place that looked like a boat launch and then a trudge through thick woods and undergrowth until locating the car.  We got back in the boats and again headed south on Friday Bay.  We initially had some slight navigation problems as Crooked Lake at this point was vast with many inlets on either side, some of which were merely bays but other were passages around islands.  This was a test of our map reading and navigation skills and there were times when we were deep in the middle of the large lake, studying the map and the area to determine the right way to go.  Luckily, we again had clear, calm days with absolutely no wind.  So even though we were smack in the middle of a huge lake, the water was still like glass.  We ultimately found the right route and paddled south toward several islands near the bottom of the bay.  We stopped on one island for lunch and found a hut and what looked like an altar on one end of the island.  After lunch, we finished our paddle on Crooked Lake and began our first portage in almost two days.  We had a 139 rod portage to small Papoose Creek and then spent a really nice afternoon cruising down rivers that connected a series of small lakes.  We set into Papoose Creek which led into Papoose Lake, into another river to Chippewa Lake and then another river to Niki Lake.  The rivers were deep but narrow and were a really interesting ecosystem with tons of turtles and birds, cold, clear water and tall, reed-like plants growing straight out of the water.  We walked another short portage of 43 rods into Wagosh Lake and then prepared for the big, monster portage of the trip that we had been anticipating for the whole trip.  A 328 rod (just over one mile) portage between Wagosh Lake and Gun Lake.  We had had plans to take turns with the canoe on this portage though I shot a Clif goo pack while in the middle of Wagosh Lake and busted the whole portage during the sugar and caffeine high (it is rarely mentioned that Brian also carried his canoe the entire length without sugar or caffeine assistance).  We arrive on Gun Lake as the sun was beginning to duck behind the trees though had some beautiful views of the fall colors mirrored in the still water while the sun was still in the sky.  We found a decent campsite on Gun Lake (though certainly not as stellar as the two previous sites).  That night, a full moon rose above the water on the far side from our camp.  We set up camp to sleep out (though the tarp was set up a short distance away) and enjoyed another fire and dinner (and mouse attack).  We finished our beer and attempted to finish the liquor.  Since it was our last night we ranked the whiskeys:  Caribou Crossing Canadian Whiskey was the favorite and the Knappogue Castle Irish was a very close second.  The Willett bourbon was a distant third and we all agreed it would taste better with coke (which was sampled the next day).  After the drinks we decided to take the canoes our on the lake under the full moon.  Ray and I took one canoe while Brian took the other (Drew chose to stay behind).  Being out on the lake under the full moon was amazing!  It was so bright with the moon reflecting off the water.  We could hear wolves howling on the distant shore and spent several minutes sitting and listening to the howls in the dark.  An incredible last night of the trip.  The wonderful, peaceful feeling did not last, however, as Ray (who was in the front of the boat) got out of the boat as we landed back at the campsite and pulled the canoe straight up onto the bank, which caused the back of the boat to tilt and dumped me into the cold water.  I did have a change of dry clothes left (and the dunking resulted in me using every last thing I had brought with me).  The incident also resulted in Ray earning the title of “Buffoon of the Trip” (I had received the title the year before and was in the running for it again until Ray dumped me in the freezing water with air temps in the 30’s).

Day Four: Gun Lake to Mudro Lake entry point; about 7 miles; Gun Lake to Fairy Lake to Boot Lake to Fourtown Lake to Mudro Lake; six portages totally 295 rods (less than one mile)

We slept out all night with the bright full moon above us, lighting up the ground so no headlamps were necessary.  We awoke early as we wanted to spend some time on Fourtown Lake.  After some unsuccessful fishing at spots recommended by Kevin, we began heading south again with teams that were the same as our first day: Brian and Drew and Ray/me.  We had all become fairly adept at the canoeing skills by this point and we moved quickly and in straight lines to where we wanted to go.  There were times where we were able to get to some fairly high speeds.   We crossed Gun Lake and hit our first portage, a short 50 rod trip to Fairy Lake and then another tiny 15 rod portage to Boot Lake (aptly named).  It was on the north part of Boot Lake that we saw our first people since Lower Basswood Falls early on Day 2.  Over two full days without seeing a single person!  We saw several other groups camped on Boot Lake and on the way out toward Mudro.  Another short 48 rod portage brought us to beautiful, island-filled Fourtown Lake.  We stopped for lunch on one of the islands after reaching Fourtown.  We spent a while on Fourtown fishing off the rocks, exploring the island and finishing off the rest of the food.  We also spent a substantial amount of time taking pictures for a possible Christmas card.  We noticed that the winds were starting to pick up and we had a fairly tough paddle south on Fourtown battling against the winds.  It made us appreciate what could have been if the weather had been different and our incredibly good luck.  We left Fourtown and completed three short portages with tiny 1-2 minutes ponds in between and finished with a pretty unique portage along a ravine to Mudro.  We came full circle as we crossed Mudro once more and paddled up the river to the meeting spot.  We were running a bit late though our pick-up man, Charlie, didn’t seem to mind.  He had beers for us in the van and we enjoyed the bumpy ride back to Ely.

We ran into a slight snafu when we returned to Voyageurs North and found it locked and Charlie did not have the key.  We stayed in the parking lot throwing the Frisbee around until Charlie returned with the key and retrieved some of the things we had locked up inside.  For an early dinner, we stopped at the Evergreen restaurant at the Grand Ely Lodge for another walleye dinner and pitchers of celebratory beer.  We had a long drive (a little longer due to missing a turn) back to Minneapolis.  Drew got us a sweet room near the airport and we spent the evening catching up on sports scores and attempting to finish off some of the beer we had in the car (unsuccessfully).  Drew and were up early for coffee downstairs (and a serious conversation about the problems with technology).  Drew had the first flight so we dropped him off and the rest of us went for a tasty brunch near Calhoun Square (where we had a very helpful waitress who suggested bookstores nearby).  We wandered Calhoun Sq. and then dropped Ray off at the airport. Bri and drove around Minneapolis and St. Paul for a little while (trying to find a Hmong cultural center that was now closed) and then unsuccessfully tried to visit the Surly brewery.  We finally found a great spot called the Muddy Pig with excellent beers.  Our last stop was a gas station for cokes in which we poured some of the remaining Bullitt bourbon (which was much tastier in the coke).  The drinks made for an enjoyable trip home (I supplemented with another at the bar).

All in all, another amazing trip and in my view, near the top of our eight adventures (up at the level of the Grand Canyon).  The words that come to my mind when describing this trip are peaceful, quiet, solitude, and relaxing.   

Upon our return, Ray reported some sad news regarding a friend of his who had been sick.  This is a quote from his email:

“…there is something cool about having been on that placid lake on day two, on a beautiful day, alone but feeling totally connected, the day my friend Karyn died (she loved hearing about our trips every year).”