2002_spring

This was the third year I had been traveling to Lac La Croix with my father-in-law on the annual fishing trip that his father had started some 50
years ago. Until I had started coming to Lac La Croix, I was unaware that such a beautiful wilderness area was located so close.   On my prior
trips to Canada, my buddies and I had thought it necessary to travel as possibly far into Canada, I mean end of the dirt road far, to find this
type of wilderness. I was now discovering that was not the case.

The annual fishing trip to Lac La Croix could best be describe as the opposite of a canoe trip into the BWCA. Each year we return to
Campbell’s Cabins where we are enthusiastically greeted by Jay Handberg and his son Campbell. The resort has been in their family for
generations, and we are treated with the respect deserving for a group that is now in to its third generation of return customers. Here we stay
in very nice cabins with soft beds, hot showers, and heaters, which are frequently used during our May trips. Each of the 3 days of fishing has
the same schedule, almost ritual like:

7:00 – breakfast in the dining lodge
8:00 – down to the dock, find your fishing partner and guide for the day
9:00 – get to the spot where the guide says you will catch fish
9:00 – 12:00 catch as many Walleye as you want, keeping only your limit
12:00 – 2:00 shore lunch, yes, 2 hours for shore lunch, but that’s a whole story in itself!
2:00 – 5:00 catch more fish
5:00 – back to the resort
6:00 – dinner in the dining lodge
7:00 – 10:00 relax and get ready for the next day

This trip is a lot of fun, we eat like kings, catch more fish than you can imagine, and in general, do not have to lift a thumb to do anything. I
thoroughly enjoy this trip and will make it an annual occurrence for as long as I am physically able, which should be many, many years, but…
…I have always loved the outdoors, camping, hunting, fishing and the challenge of proving to myself that I could survive in any situation.
Because of all these factors, over the last few years I had increasingly wanted to take a canoe trip into the Boundary Waters, to experience
this beautiful land in a more peaceful and natural way.

After returning from my second fishing trip last summer, I started to tell my good friend Art about how amazing this area was and that I wanted
to take a canoe trip to the BWCA. He immediately said I could count on him to go, as a Scout in his younger years he had been on many
hiking and camping trips and was eager to relive some of those experiences.

So the planning was started. Initially it was idle conversations, when should we go? How long should we go for? What are our expectations?
What should we take? What about the bears!? Finally in February we decided it was time to make reservations. At this point we had been
talking about the trip for 8 months, by ourselves, to our friends, to about anyone who would listen. Art and I decided we should try to get at
least 2 more people to throw in with us, it would be more fun and provide some more stability with a larger group. Jeff had been listening to
our conversations long enough and being an avid outdoorsman decided he should go along. He quickly suggested we ask Scotty, as he
would have the time of his life. I searched the Internet and found what I believed to be the best deal for us. Not the most or least expensive
(my belief is never go with the cheapest, you could get burned) outfit, one with many years of experience that could provide us with all that we
required.   In the end, it was decided that since this was our first time, we would go with the full package; gear, equipment and food, all
included. The reservation was made and the real planning began.

We decided on an early trip in May, mainly because Art had heard enough of my stories about Lac La Croix that he just had to go on the
annual fishing trip. This would mean that we could save some vacation time by having Jeff and Scotty meet us there and we would not make
the drive up and back twice. We also could use Memorial Day as a day of travel, one less day to take off!

So for the next 4 months, all we could talk about was the canoe trip, about how much fun we were going to have, about how many fish we
would catch, about what we needed to take, who was going to acquire what, the conversations went on and on. It was all we could talk about
so much that our significant others were bored to death whenever we got together, and they wondered aloud, “What will you talk about after
going on the canoe trip?” We already knew the answer, “The canoe trip!” We had canoe trip planning parties, equipment check parties, and
vacuum packing parties! We wanted to make sure some things stayed dry! It was all we could think about, we couldn’t wait for May to arrive.

Finally! Sunday, May 18th had arrived! Art and I were off at the crack off dawn, to Lac La Croix and the annual fishing trip. This was one of
the most memorable fishing trips yet. We had a larger group than normal, 9 instead of 6, so this added to all of the stories and laughs we
would have together. It was Art’s first trip, and within 2 hours of hitting the water, he had landed a 26-½ inch Walleye, a trophy! Then on his
very next cast, he pulls in a 27-inch lunker! Two trophy fish back to back on his first trip, a story we will tell time and time again. The whole
trip provided many fish; we caught and released our limit many times over. It was also a year for catching large fish; I ended up landing a 20-
½ inch Smallmouth, only to be outdone by my brother-in-law with a 21-½ incher! Another in our party landed a 45-inch Northern; you should
see the fillets that came off that one. We had 3 great days of fishing and everyone left with many memories. But Art and I were far from being
done…

We met up with Jeff and Scotty in Orr, where they had driven to the night before. They were so excited about getting on the water they had
their car packed and ready to go and practically had our gear transferred before we were out of my father-in-law’s vehicle. After a few stories
of how great the fishing was at Campbells, we were off to Ely and the adventure of our life!

“You’re my little potato, you’re my little potato, I dug you up, you come from underground” With that line, we had found our club song. We
were getting close to Ely and decided to find a local radio station to get a weather update. Well, we found a local radio station and were
quickly introduced to some favorite local songs. It happened to be food songs request hour and ‘Little Potato’ had just started when we tuned
in. We really couldn’t believe what we hearing and were more intrigued by the song than impressed. Over the next 4 days ‘Little Potato’
would be sung many, many times. It’s a catchy little tune that none of us could let go of, and since it was the first thing we heard, we assumed
it was meant to be. So our first trip had a name…’The Little Potato Trip’.

“Stop! I’m gonna get my cell phone outta my bag and call ‘em”, Jeff exclaimed. “Call who?” I asked. “CBO! We must have missed ‘em”, he
replied. We had just driven through Ely where there must be at least 20 outfitters and after a little more discussion everyone was convinced
that we needed to go about 15 miles east of Ely before we would get to Canadian Border Outfitters, just one the many ‘discussions’ we would
have over the next 4 days regarding directions. Finally we pulled in to CBO, they are a nice outfitting resort that sets right on Moose Lake
where you can take right off from their dock, or you can get a tow or shuttle to any of the numerous put it points.

First order of business, check in, we were actually a little ahead of schedule, arriving a little after 11:00 am, at this rate we would be on the
water well ahead of the planned time of 2:00 pm. The crew at CBO is wonderful, over the course of the previous 4 months we had
communicated several times and they had answered all of our questions assuredly. Now we finally got to meet them face-to-face, the first
being Deb, and she was all the character I had thought she would be. At first she denied her own existence, but after we introduced
ourselves, she fessed up and was eager to help us begin our voyage.   She even helped us change our hotel reservations to Virginia for
when we came off the water, it ended up saving us about 100 miles of back tracking to Orr.

Second order of business, trip routing, we would be towed up Moose Lake where we would make a short 35 rod portage into Splash Lake,
then a fairly short row to a small pull into Ensign Lake. Here is where would want to make camp for the first night. The guide pointed out
several of the nicer campsites. The next day would be a little longer, we would head east on Ensign to a 55 rod portage into Ashigan Lake, a
short row to the longest portage we would have, 105 rods to Gibson Lake, a short row, 25 rods up hill into Cattyman Lake, here you get a
great view of some spectacular falls! Across Cattyman to a short 10 rod pull over into Adventure Lake, then a 40 rods into Jitterbug Lake,
row, then 15 rods into Ashub, here you may want to look for a campsite or continue with a 25 rod portage in to Disappointment Lake. The
final leg of the trip will take you to the south end of Disappointment and here you can take one 140 rod portage into Snowbank Lake, or opt to
take a 97 rod portage in to Parent Lake, then a 95 rod portage in to Snowbank. Once in Snowbank you will head south to the pick up point by
the boat ramp. A very easy trip to do in 3 days, with 4 days you will have plenty of time to relax, take your time and even get some good
fishing in. At least that’s what the guide told us during routing meeting!

Third order of business, get our packs. Art and I had our own backpacks and were ready to go. We had one food pack and two equipment
packs, and Jeff and Scotty were able to fit their gear in to the equipment packs. We quickly packed things up, took care of last minute details
and were ready to head out.

The whole process took less than an hour, very organized, and we were on Moose Lake in the towboat a little after noon. Rain and winds had
started to move in about this time and the 15-minute ride up Moose ended up being about 25 minutes and a little damp, but we didn’t care, we
had come prepared and were in our rain gear. At the drop off point we discovered that in our haste, the life jackets had been left lying back
on the dock. Our towboat operator felt awful and blamed himself, we told him it was not a big deal and would not hold it against him. I think he
felt bad because it meant he had to go back to get the life jackets and bring them back to us, another 75 minutes in the wind and rain. While
we waited for his return, we packed the gear and canoes over to Splash and found the Kevlar canoes to be very light and comfortable.

Since we had some time to kill we decided to fill our water bottles, as I was pumping the water through the purifier, it suddenly dawned on me
that we should have filled our bottles back at CBO, yet one more detail that was overlooked in our rush to ‘get on the water’. The purifier
turned out to be a good investment though; the water would always come out clear and had no foul taste or smell. I would recommend a
purifier anytime, much better than iodine or the tablets that do not remove color or odor and make the water taste funny themselves.

Finally, we had our life jackets and started paddling. Jeff and Scotty took one canoe while Art and I in the other. Art jumped in the back of our
canoe and I was all right with this as he had had some canoing experience as a Scout and I had only been in one a few times. However, it
soon came to light that we had differing opinions on how to row a canoe. Our biggest problem was steering, Art was convinced that the front
man did most of the steering; I thought it was the man in back. So for a short while, neither of was steering and didn’t know it, we actually did
OK that way.

Our first portage from Splash in to Ensign ended up being nothing more than a pull over very small short rapids. Art and I were the first to
arrive, we decided to size up the situation and figured we could just pull the canoe up with a rope. While we were readying the canoe, Jeff and
Scotty started to pull up, we advised them that with a good run on it, they might be able to row up the small fall. It was quite a site to see them
row with all their might, especially when they succeeded and were up the rapids with what now seems like ease. Art and I wished we would
have made a run at and saved some face! As we rowed in to Ensign the wind and rain began to pick up creating unfavorable conditions.
Then all hell broke loose, I was trying to convince Art that he needed to steer and he was telling me I needed to. At one point I stopped rowing
and let Art have full control. That’s when we figured out the problem, we had a broken canoe, all it would do was turn left. No matter which
side Art rowed on, it turned left. We made some head way after that and soon radioed Jeff to pull over the next chance he had. It was now
raining pretty hard and we needed a break to regroup. We stopped on a little marshy island and dug out the Tang, as you will see on this trip,
Tang is all we brought, actually we brought too much Tang, but more about that latter. So we mixed up a couple of Tang Screwdrivers and
discussed rowing techniques. Jeff was able to confirm my theory that the rear man is the pilot, so to speak. The front just needs to row, the
man in back does the steering and keeps the canoe going in the proper direction. As time went on, we perfected our ‘J’ stroke and also used
a little rudder action to help.

Back in the canoes and off to find a campsite, by now it was 3:00 pm and with the rain, we just wanted to get camp set up and relax. I took
over the rear of our canoe and we had a much better go of it. Art and I could now laugh about the previous 2 hours of when we both had
been devising a plan on how to dispose of each other’s bodies. The first campsite we came to was occupied, on to the next one. I had read
in various articles that you want to find a campsite early because they tend to fill up quickly, but coming up early in the season, I did not think
we should have this problem. But I can reassure you that you will want to start looking for your spot early in the day, as you will see later, we
learned this the hard way. Jeff and Scotty were well ahead of Art and myself and had radioed back that they were not seeing any open
campsites. They were going to try to get to a campsite that was well around the other side of an island before another group that was behind
them did. Mean while, Art and myself were looking at the map and realized that they had rowed by a spot where there was supposed to be a
campsite. We couldn’t see any tents or smoke in the general area so we started to look closely along the shore for the spot, at this point we
would take whatever we could find. We were not sure there would be a spot as I had also read that sometimes the maps are not correct, with
some campsites no longer existing and new ones being created. Just as we were ready to give up on finding this spot, Art blurted, “What’s
that?” pointing to a spot high up a rock face. “I see it too!” I said. Through the trees we could just barely see what looked like a couple of logs
arranged around a fire ring. Then we spotted an area along the shore that looked like a landing area.   Over we rowed, and once there,
could faintly make out a path leading up to the supposed campsite. We hiked up the hill and found a campsite that had a great view. Quickly
we radioed Jeff to let him know we had a spot, he and Scotty were well ahead of us and had quite a row against the wind to get back to us. As
we unloaded the canoes the rain stopped, things were beginning to look up.

Tents were set up, the latrine was found and happy hour had begun. As I said before, all we brought for drink mix was Tang, so a large batch
was made to get us through the night. As we got a fire going, we opened the food pack, only to discover that we were 2 hamburgers short.
After a little scare that we might only have half of our food, we soon found that this was all we were short of. Later back at CBO, they would
rectify the situation, and in the end, we split the burgers and all had plenty to eat. Finally we were to the part of the trip that I enjoyed the
most, sitting around the campfire swapping stories and jokes with my buddies. The night progressed with many jokes, stories and
woodcutting. At one point, Jeff wanted to know how he could have already drank half of his bottle of vodka, we all examined the bottle and
wondered the same thing. I, being one not to be out done, started to modify the Tang and whiskey ratio I had been using. Somewhere
around midnight I decided it was time to hit the sleeping bag, I was out in a matter of minutes. At least that’s my recollection! As I would find
out the next morning, I stumbled to the tent, passed out and snored like a freight train. The others turned in a short while later.

Day 2

We arose the next morning to a bright sun. I was very thirsty for some reason and quickly found my water bottle. It was somewhat of a
struggle to get going and I found myself not feeling well at all. All I wanted to do was lean over a log and not move; I was in no shape to
canoe. While the rest made breakfast and started to get ready for the day, I found the cause of my illness, I had managed to liberate myself
of half of my Texas fifth of whiskey. Upon further investigation, we found that Jeff had only drank about a third of his bottle of vodka, why we
all had thought it was half gone the night before is beyond me. I still attribute that rough morning to the fact that I was trying to “keep up” with
Jeff. Finally, after a piece or two of bacon, I decided if was going to make it through the day I would need to start moving and not stop. So we
packed up and loaded the canoes. This day was to be our biggest, seven portages in all, but then we would be able to camp in the same spot
for two nights.

Scotty and I teamed up this day and found that we rowed very well together. We hit our first portage and found the landing area to have a
beautiful view, after some pictures we started the portage. We found we had quite a bit of gear and would have to double portage, no
problem, as this was to be an easy route. We found the first portage just a bit harder than we had thought it would be with most of it being up
hill. Soon we had all the gear on the other side and decided to take a little break. Jeff pulled out his pole and did some casting, Art rowed out
from shore a bit and pumped some water, Scotty and I just watched. We then headed across Ashigan, a very nice row where we encountered
a few others who were fishing and having a bit of luck. We soon landed at what was to be our longest portage of the trip, right around half a
mile. Here is where we discovered that you need to be careful when landing a canoe, when the front man gets out, the canoe becomes very
unstable, as they were pulling me ashore the canoe got a little sideways on a rock and started to tip over. It happened very quickly and had I
not been in very shallow water, would not have been able stop from tipping.

We packed up as much gear as we could and started to hike. After about 40 yards we reached the top of the first hill and found that we were
in the middle of the blowdown area of 1999. It was an awesomely devastating sight, to see every tree completely uprooted, like a discarded
garden weed, or snapped, like a toothpick, was heart sickening. It will take hundreds of years for this area to recover. As we walked this
portage, I thought back to the stories I had read about the canoeist who were trapped by this storm. What they must have thought when they
tried to make this portage, where five, six, seven or more trees would all be laying on top of each other, creating an impassable wall. Now,
three years later, we were able to negotiate this trail quite easily; crews had since come in and literally cut a path out of the fallen pines. The
trail was a winding, up and down one and due to the lack of the trees, unshaded. As we reached the end of the first trip, I realized that I was
missing my two-way radio. The whole way back we diligently looked along the trail but did not find it. That was a let down, as up until now the
radios had proven very useful. When we finally had all the gear packed across the portage from hell, we decided to take a short lunch break.
I started to feel normal again, as I was working the hangover out of my body. I might just be able to survive the day!

It was a little past noon and we were behind schedule, we made the short row across Gibson to the portage by the falls. This was a short
portage but all up hill, which we should have expected because of the falls! The falls were a spectacular sight and we got many great
pictures. Another short row put us across Cattyman and we were able to leave some of the packs in the canoes and carry them a short 40
yards into Adventure. Here is where we had our first discussion on where to camp for the night. Some of us were getting tired and wanted to
find the first available site, others wanted to push on to Disappointment Lake as planned. With no definite resolution, we pushed on. After a
pretty good row across Adventure we negotiated a tricky up and down portage into Jitterbug Lake, the last 40 yards were down a very steep
and rocky path. Rowing out in to Jitterbug took us through a marshy area that was a little awkward to navigate. Along the way, Scotty and I
spotted a turtle on a log, we were able to row up to about 5 feet away and get some great pictures, another highlight! Art and Jeff got well in
front of us, and since we were almost out of water I opted to fill the water bottle. So as I pumped water, Scotty piloted us across the lake,
having nearly filled the bottle I looked up to see that Scotty had pretty much rowed all the way by himself, great job Scotty! We pulled up to
the portage and found that someone had crafted a crude dock out of logs, a welcome feature here in the backwoods. We made the short
easy hike over to Ashub in no time, partly due the fact that Art was carrying two packs at once. He felt he needed to help out the old tired
ones a little…anyway…

Before shoving off into Ashub, we once again discussed looking for campsites. Since leaving Ashigan 5 portages ago, this was the first lake
with any sites. It was decided we had a good couple hours of daylight left and that we should go on in to Disappointment. While rowing
across Ashub, we made it a point to check out the three campsites on the lake. With Ashub being a small lake, we quickly located two sites
that had tents pitched on them. We however, could not locate the third. It must have been a spot that was no longer used but not removed
from the map. We pulled over to the portage; each grabbed a pack and took off. At the other end, the packs were dropped and we headed
back for the rest. I saw a canoe coming in, so I decided to move our packs to one side to give them room to land. Just as they got up to
shore I asked them how far they planned on going, because the campsites in Ashub were full. They asked if all three were full, I told them we
could only find two sites and the maps must be wrong. They then said that all the spots on Disappointment were full also. My heart sank, a
lump formed in my throat, and panic set in. What were we going to do? There was no way we would be able to go back over five portages to
Ashigan to find a site, it was too late and we were too tired! After a few seconds I grabbed a paddle and headed back across the portage to
the others. I met Jeff halfway, he had one of the canoes; I broke the bad news to him and told him to leave the canoe and come with me so we
could devise a plan with the others. Back at Ashub we started going over our options, go ahead and spend a 3 to 4 hours getting through
Disappointment and Snowbank only to camp at the pick up point for 2 nights, go all the way back to Ashigan, or come up with something
better. Finally, as I studied the map I decided we needed to search harder for that third campsite, it shouldn’t be to far away, it was on 2
different types of maps, it had to be there!

Scotty and I took the canoe and were going to search the shoreline for signs of the site, Art and Jeff were going to go back and head down
the hiking trail that had access to this site. One of us should find it! As Scotty and I were rowing, Scotty thought he saw an area that looked
like it could be a landing, and maybe even a very faint trail leading from it. We decided to go check it out. It wasn’t much of landing spot, but
it was the best thing we could find, we paddled in, and Scotty hopped out and grabbed the canoe. Just as he pulled the canoe up on to the
rocks, I realized we were absent the added weight of the packs. The canoe slanted with the angle of the rocks and the rest is history…

I knew immediately that I was going to get wet; we were very close to shore so I wasn’t worried that I did not have my life jacket on. I was most
concerned with how COLD the water was going to be. So over I went, I let loose of the paddle and took a breath, the initial shock was not as
bad as I expected, but still…it was a cool 44 degrees Fahrenheit. So as the canoe tipped almost all the way over I reached out for the lake
bottom, as I said, we were almost on shore so I assumed the water would be one or two feet deep, I hadn’t actually bothered to look. So as
soon as I realized that I could not touch the bottom, I decided I would need to get out of the canoe. I made an initial kick with my legs, while my
feet didn’t clear the canoe, my legs were out and I was able to get my head above the surface for a quick breath. As I went under again, I
kicked once more and was free of the canoe, I tried to stand up but did not have my feet completely under me, so I ended up getting my head
above the surface once again only to go under. I finally found the lake bottom with my feet and stood up, only to find that the water was
actually chest high. This lake turned out to be a very deep lake that dropped off sharply from the shores.

“Are you alright, man?” exclaimed Scotty, “Yeah”, I replied. “Are you sure you’re OK?” “Yeah”, I said again, “but it’s cold!” I think Scotty
about had a heart attack watching me struggle to get myself righted in the water. He wouldn’t forgive himself, thinking that it was his fault. I
reassured him several times that I was OK and it was not his fault. You see, we ended up learning several lessons from this one 5 second
incident. The first, do not get in such a hurry that you forget the basics. The second, be aware of your surroundings, I should have known we
were in a deep lake. And thirdly, when you are canoing, ALWAYS wear some type of personal flotation device. We were lucky to have our
first dunking in the situation we did. We didn’t have any gear to loose or get wet and we were close enough to shore that we were not in
danger.

Up a steep incline, anywhere from a 30 to 60 degree incline, we trekked. There had better be a campsite here now, after getting dunked I
figured I was owed! We tried to follow what we thought was a trail and lost it several times, only to find again and again. Eventually we
stumbled on the campsite, you cannot imagine the relief I felt upon knowing we could stop for the night. About that time Art came hiking up
from the trail, I detailed for him the swim I had taken and informed him to go with Scotty in the canoe and I would walk the trail as I wanted to
warm up a bit.

This campsite was definitely hard to find and appeared that no one had been there for some time. Fallen trees in camp provided plenty of
firewood but also made finding a spot to pitch a tent difficult. Finally, the tents were up, my clothes were drying by the fire, I was in dry duds
and dinner was being prepared. That was some of the best lasagna any of us had eaten, considering all we did was add boiling water and let
it set. Dinner was done and the fire was going good. My plan was to get to bed early to try to recoup from the night before and from all we
had done that day. However, the best-laid plans do not always work out. As I said, this spot had fallen trees all around and did not have too
many flat spots to start with, so we ended up sitting shoulder to shoulder on the ground right in front of the fire. We had plenty of Tang made
up and commenced to make another late night of. I can say this night though would belong to Chuckles, a.k.a. Jeff; he acquired the alias as a
result of partaking of the Tang and vodka a little to heavily and ended laughing at every thing that was said. For an hour straight, all we had
to do was say his name, and he would laugh. It made for a very fun evening! Finally we hit the tents around 1:00 am and fell asleep while
continuing to play The Name Game, I think we ended on the questionable name of ‘Paulie Poo Poo’.

Day 3

Morning brought more glorious sunshine. Breakfast was a little something we had brought along, Cache Lake biscuits and gravy. Cache
Lake is a company founded in Ely that is famous for it’s Fry Pan bread and other specialty foods that are designed for canoe trips. Everyone
agreed that the biscuits hit the spot that morning.

Since Jeff and Scotty had not gotten too much fishing in up to this point, we formulated a plan that would hopefully have them reeling in the
big ones all day long. The campsite across the lake from us had been vacated earlier, it was a much nicer spot, so Art and I decided to claim
that spot and do some fishing from shore while the other two took only a tent and would fish on Disappointment Lake. If they found a nice
spot that would put us closer to our destination, they would set up the tent and come back for us. Off we all went…

A few hours later, Art and I had no fish and a couple less lures. We figured Jeff and Scotty must have been catching fish since they had not
come back yet, so we started to cut some wood for a fire.   Just as we finished cutting through a large tree that had fallen, we heard Jeff
yelling, now would have been a great time to have the two-way radios. Eventually, they made their way back to us and informed us they had
found a great spot. They had also ran into, as Jeff described them, “two hot forest ranger chicks”, who had told them to expect some stormy
weather later in the afternoon. So we quickly packed up and headed out.

A short portage in to Disappointment put us directly in to a strong wind and on eight to twelve inch waves. An hour or so later, we rounded an
island to a nice camp site that was directly on the water, the first time we would not have lug our gear up a hill! We set up camp and Jeff &
Scotty started fishing from the shore. After a short time, a storm front started to develop to the west and we decided to get dinner out of the
way. After dinner, we all did a little fishing and finally Scotty landed a small bass, we had finally caught one! Shortly after that the rain set in.
Jeff hit the tent to play some digital golf, Scotty kept fishing and Art & I started happy hour. The rain lasted for more than an hour, but we all
were dressed for it and stayed dry. Scotty had no more bites and stopped fishing, Jeff was rather comfortable in the tent and would not come
out, Art & I?...well, we kept happy hour going. Scotty joined us and soon the rain stopped and once again, we were enjoying another beautiful
night in the Boundary Waters sitting around a campfire. Just before dark, Scotty cleaned his fish, well away from camp as you should, and
wrapped it with some onions and spices in foil, later we would cook it over the campfire. Jeff never did come out of the tent, and around 10:30
Art decided to call it a night. Scotty and I were having a great time watching the clouds and full moon and decided to stay up a little longer.
Right about then, we also decided to cook the fish, Art wasn’t too impressed by this idea as the smoke was blowing directly over his tent. A
few minutes into this process, Art yelled out, “Are one of you guys walking around the tent?” Seems he was hearing footsteps and wanted to
make sure we hadn’t lured a bear into camp with the cooking fish. I checked it out and reassured him there was no bear or any signs that one
had been around.

What a marvelous taste, just a hint of onion and the right amount of spice! I will never forget how delicious fresh caught fish tastes, especially
when cooked over an open fire. Scotty and I were reaping the rewards of his catch while looking across a beautiful lake lit by a bright full
moon. It is one of the most amazing moments I have ever had. “I am having so much fun, I’m gonna stay up all night”, said Scotty, “it’s our
last night here, I’m stayin’ up!” So with that, a goal was set, I told him I would hang with him as long as I could, but I was pretty tired. We talked
about many things that night, and marveled at the magnificence around us. It was truly, something everyone should experience at least once
in his or her lifetime.

I put up a fight, but at 1:30 AM, I had to surrender to the pillow. The next morning, we would learn from Jeff, that at 3:00 AM, he woke up to
find Scotty was still not in his sleeping bag. Deciding to check, he found Scotty lying on the ground, a log for his pillow, his feet just inches
from the fire. Scotty claims to have been conscious, but Jeff disagrees, either way, when Scotty decided to go to bed, he had trouble finding
the doorbell on the tent. I think we know whom to believe…

Day 4

Yet another beautiful morning, probably the best morning we had. This was our last day in the BWCA. Our pick up time was 3:00 PM on
Snowbank Lake, we could take our time getting there, fish along the way, explore, whatever. Or, we could get there early and then go back
out and fish. Since the wind was pretty stiff into our faces and there were some questionable clouds on the horizon, we decided to head
straight to the pick up point. When we got to the south end of Disappointment we had two choices; one long portage into Snowbank with a
very long row and a strong side wind or a shorter portage into Parent Lake, a short row along the bank and another portage into Snowbank
with a nice short row into the wind. After some discussion, it was decided to take the two portage route, it would mean a little more walking, but
less rowing in possibly rough waters.

The first hike into Parent was pretty easy, a few hills but a very nice trail. We loaded up the canoes and set out across the lake into the wind.
“Beer!…Cold Beer, Bed!…Soft Bed, Beam & Coke…With ice!”. Art and I started a rowing chant to help us keep the rhythm and to remind us
of what we had to look forward to in only a few short hours. Even though we had thoroughly enjoyed every part of the trip, there were still
some luxuries we had missed. Shortly we were at the head of our last portage, a milestone, all we had left was one portage! As we landed
the canoes, we were promptly greeted by a dense swarm of mayflies; they were as thick as revelers at Carnival in Rio. We soon found that
this cloud was limited to the shore area and we not have to fight them through the whole hike.

A half hour later, we had reached a major milestone, the end of our last portage! Even though we would be rowing across a flat lake, it all
seemed downhill from here. It was noon and we had three hours to row a very short distance, so we decided to take a short lunch break and
soak up the magnificence a little more. We still had about a mile to row, but we all were starting to feel a sense of pride and accomplishment.
We were about to complete a journey, even though short, that would provide us with many fond memories. So we loaded up the gear and
started the final leg.

We landed at the boat ramp about 2 hours before our scheduled pick up time. We were hoping there would be other CBO customers coming
off the water that we could hitch a ride with or be able to call CBO for an earlier pick up. Scotty pulled out his cell phone, only to find that we
had ‘No Service’. We then decided to walk over to the dock area to see if there might be a pay phone, no such luck. As we walked back to
the ramp, Art and Scotty decided they were going to hit up a group of young fishermen that were grilling burgers, for a cold brew. Between
us, we had about $4; maybe we could buy a couple of beers from them. No need to worry, they were a great bunch of guys out of the Twin
Cities, and after telling them we had just come off the water after 4 days, they graciously donated 4 beers so that we could toast our
achievement. Beer never tasted so good! Or gone down so quick!

We had just settled in for a long wait when a Fish & Game officer pulled up to put his boat on the water. He questioned us a bit and after
learning that we were waiting, used his more powerful cell phone to call CBO for us and prompt an early pickup. Twenty minutes later we were
on our way back to CBO’s camp, it was at that point, bunched up together in an enclosed area, that we realized that at least one, if not all of
us, needed a shower drastically!

Stay tuned for Fall 2002…we have some new rookies!