Boundary Waters Pt2

(I should start by saying this group was Noma and Ron, Cami and Manny, Rugga and Tara, with myself and Becka)

Grand Marais is a tiny spit of a town that thrives on tourism and closes early in the day. From there it's about two hours driving to get to the campground we spent our first night in. (Our entry permit was for Wednesday, and we didn't want to spend any of Wednesday not in the water) About half way there, the signal disappeared. No data, no calls, no texts. I've tried disconnecting for awhile, but there has always been something nearby. This was the first time I can recall where it was a total cutoff for everyone I was with. It lasted until we reached about the same spot on our way back.

Two campsites, four tents, eight people, and sixteen rules to a completely 'made up on the spot' card game that had No Boundaries. It was, without a doubt, the strangest and most cathartic way to start a trip into the middle of nowhere. The only disappointing part was there was nowhere to set up my hammock. (I have a nice camping hammock with a mosquito net and rain fly so I can spend the night in it instead of sleeping on the ground in a tent). Alas the tent will have to do.

In the morning we wasted little time packing up and getting into the water. It's worth noting at this point that as we were loading and setting out, absolutely nobody turned over and swamped their boats. Nope, absolutely nobody. Wasn't me, wasn't anyone else with us. Just didn't happen. Nooooooooooooooooooope.

Once out into the water, we headed south towards Seagull Lake. There was a quick portage to get there, so we made landfall and started on foot (those boats turned out to be surprisingly light). At least, it's a very short portage if you go the right way. You see it was a loop, and the correct way is surprisingly short. If you go the other way, you'll still get there, it will just take awhile. I won't say who was holding the map, but I will say that if I had a cursory look at it, it would have helped.

Anyway several hours later we were on Seagull Lake. It was bright, but overcast. Warm enough, but not hot. I couldn't have asked for better weather. I would say it was a large lake, but when you're in a lightweight boat not much wider than yourself, it's all relative. I can't say much about the experience, and that's strictly due to my inability. We were in good company, in our own hands, and completely at the mercy of nature. It was serene. It was surreal.

It was crowded.

I always had this image in my head of the boundary waters being this vast empty wilderness, but we saw a dozen or so other boats on the lake, and every single camp site was taken. I was assured this was only the case because Seagull Lake was so close to the entry points, but the image was still shattered.

We made our way through to Rog Lake, which had a very different portage than my first experience. It was a simple straight line through the woods from one body of water to another.

Now I'll say that on the map we had, all the portages were measured in rods. One rod is sixteen and a half feet. Why they used some arcane measurement that we kept having to make adjustments for is beyond me, but I'll do the math for you. This first portage was 330 feet. Far from the circular path we experienced earlier, it was an unmarked rocky trail with a slight elevation. Once through, Rog Lake was a small one that merely took us through toward Alpine lake. That portage was much longer, but led us through to where we would find our first camp site. We took the first empty site we could find.

Apparently a major economic disruption encouraged more people to go camping, and to stay longer.

This region of the boundary waters had, apparently, experienced a forest fire about ten years ago, which was evidenced by the many still dead trees and the lack of nice big trees to set up a hammock, or even hang a bear bag. We set up camp. This is when I learned that a boundary waters latrine is not the same as any other campground.

It's a toilet sitting in the woods. No building, no roof. Nothing. Just a toilet sitting in the woods. It was surrounded by thick underbrush, but still... just a toilet in the woods. The upside here is that it didn't stink.

Not long after dinner, my NY sleep schedule was strongly asserting itself. The lack of a place to hang the food has us merely setting it on a giant rock near the shore and hoping for the best. We didn't have to worry about bears.