BW On the Water: Day Seven (9/12/2026)

And on the seventh day, they took out.

CRH: How's your energy level?

Me: Good.

That is one of the more consequential five words/two sentences conversations I have had. Obviously the most consequential was my proposal to/response from Laura, witnessed by this guy, but that was on dry land (albeit an island). The above exchange took place in a canoe in the middle of a quite windblown lake.

But first, let's review how we got there in the first place.

We woke up to mostly clear skies with a light west wind.

Our plan had been to get underway by 8 but we needed extra time to do what we could to dry off our gear before packing. CRH's tent had flooded a bit overnight and a little water had seeped into mine where my sleeping bag was in contact with the tent. We ended up putting in around 8:45, at which point, naturally, the wind began to pick up.

As we arrived at the right-hand turn to the north, we encountered a pair of Trumpeter Swans on the water. Evidently they decided we had come too close so they both stretched out their wings and ran across the water to take off. I had never seen a swan fly, much less take off, so the transition from "majestic floating bird" to "Cessna on the runway" was incredible to witness, especially at such close range. As we made our way up the lake we spotted them farther off to our right, but CRH's excellent navigation took us almost in a straight line to the portage to Caribou.

I did two out of three of the remaining portages, including the one taking us out of the Boundary Waters, to even my count with CRH. On the short portage from Horseshoe to Caribou, we were greeted at the put-in by a very curious Red-Breasted Nuthatch. After a bit of scouting the shore we took its advice and put in at the spot nearest its tree.

Caribou Lake was also windy but we made it across without too much trouble, CRH once more steering us directly to the portage to Lizz.

We had hoped that Lizz Lake's narrowness and north-south orientation would lessen the impact of the increasingly strong west wind, but it was not to be. The waves weren't as high but it was not as easy as it was on the first day heading in the other direction. Near the portage takeout we were treated to the sight of an adult loon feeding two young ones; probably the same family we saw on our first day.

"Fish again?!"

As noted above I carried the canoe on the last portage to Poplar Lake. At the trail marking the edge of the BWCA I paused (very) briefly to commemorate the event. What I viewed with trepidation six days before was a piece of cake with the intervening experiences under my belt and on my head. Part of me regretted the end of the journey but the part with muscles was fine with no more portages to undertake.

There were two other groups heading in our direction: four twenty-somethings heading for our outfitter and a large group of chaperoned teenagers from Tennessee wrapping up a linear paddle through the BWCA heading for the public landing on Poplar, to the northwest of our destination.

As we organized our respective gear there was a round-robin discussion of possible routes across the relatively broad lake, all of which would have the strong west wind to our left/left front to start. With the islands blocking a direct route across to the outfitter, any course would require turning and exposing the side of the canoe to the wind, which threatens the stability of the craft. No one liked the look of the lake and we all knew it would be a challenge.

In between thoughtful looks at the lake CRH and I were asked about our water shoes. Even though they are from the same manufacturer he and I had very different experiences, most likely because of our respective foot shapes. CRH had a lot of problems with the tops of the shoes chafing his feet, while mine were outstanding in both comfort and support. My basic advice was to try them on in the store and if they caused any amount of discomfort at all, keep looking. Later on, CRH observed that we seemed to be the only group that changed footwear during portages.

The twenty-somethings put in before us and, as we had overheard, took a relatively conservative route taking advantage of the lee of the islands, including a very small one in the middle of the lake.

CRH had a different plan with more wind exposure but less lake time, which was fine with me even though he did not share complete details with me before setting out. I had no problem with that because, as we have seen, he is a very good navigator.

We struck out more directly for the takeout (which you recall was not visible from the portage put-in) aiming for the lee of a large island farther across the lake, so this involved more exposure to a broadside wind. Big waves and hard paddling ensued although at one point I was paddling a little wild and was putting more water on CRH than perhaps was necessary. Somewhere in there I took my baseball cap off and threw it into the prow of the canoe before the wind had a chance to take it off for me.

This was by far the hardest paddling I have ever done. I was never too concerned about swamping but the wind and waves were very challenging and for a while I was chanting "Come on you son-of-a-bitch" as I willed the island to get closer.

Once we got to the shelter of the island we rested a moment and the exchange at the top of this post took place. At that point we took a similar relatively direct route through a couple of the islands and prominences, and made it to the outfitters before the twenty-somethings. When they arrived they seemed impressed: "We saw you out there, that was something." Damn right.

Back in civilization

It was disorienting to be among structures and motor vehicles again, even in a low-density context. When I went to get the car to drive down to the takeout I had to sit in the driver's seat for a moment, not so much to remember how to drive but to re-acclimate to driving. For the previous week, every distance covered, every task accomplished was done so using our physical power augmented by hand tools, in an environment where the human infrastructure consisted of firepits and latrines.

Fortunately I would not have to deal with interstate highways for another day, as we had overnight accommodations at a lodge down the road. Our cottage was called the Gnome Cabin, and for good reason:

Gnome overload awaits

But not just gnomes; there were also a lot of mushrooms, as in the bathroom wallpaper:

Sent this to Laura and she asked if I licked it

But it was comfy and the attached restaurant was quite good, although perhaps we had a bit too much celebratory beer. But we had reason to celebrate!

Tomorrow: back on the road for the journey home.