Today while going about my shop work, my mind kept wandering to ‘spring plans’. Not work related plans, but plans for another trip into the BWCA (Boundary Waters Canoe Area), which is a 1 million acre designated wilderness area. It contains thousands of lakes and many miles of portages between these lakes. The charm of this wilderness is that it is a ‘primitive area’, meaning no motors allowed, other than on some of the lakes that border the BWCA. Once you are past the first portages, all travel is either by foot or canoe. Even airplanes are limited as to how high they must be to fly over this wilderness.
Some folks are offended by a designated wilderness that cuts off modern means of transportation. My opinion is that in a country as big as ours, there should be room for everyone to enjoy their chosen sports without infringing on other people. Thus there should be areas where the ‘motor heads’ can take their motorcycles or 4-wheelers and explore the back country. There are state forest trails in other areas that are designated to horsemen, this is as it should be. My chosen sport for such outings is to travel by canoe and portage to reach the deep woods and find some solitude and on occasions, even catch some fish.
I have a fond memory that reoccurs whenever I think of trips into the BWCA. It was around the Memorial Day holiday of 1987, that my wife and I took our first real trip into the BWCA. We went as far as a small lake called Koma, which was about a day and a half of travel by canoe and portage. On our first afternoon of fishing, we were out in a light drizzle and as I cast a huge rubber perch replica minnow under the overhang of a pine tree, that had partly fallen over the water, there was a great rapid swirl on the surface and the bait disappeared. In a flash, my line was singing off the reel as the fish made a long run. It was the single largest northern pike that I had ever caught. It was a wonderful battle between me and “Moby Dick”! Landing a 20 pound northern pike in a canoe is a very exciting affair. As is common with big fish, it would not go in my landing net, other than its head. The battle lasted a good 20 minutes or more before the fish was finally worn out enough that I could get my hands on it to “flop” into the bottom of the canoe. Then it came to life again and trashed, flopped and generally made a “scene” fit only for a backwoods brawl.
Such a fish under those circumstances is better released than killed. To start with there was no way to keep it fresh to take to a taxidermist, for it was many days before we would be back in civilization. There was too much meat to eat in a day or so, besides the big fish are not the best eating anyway. So after a couple pictures that turned out poorly, I revived the fish and watched it swim away. That was 24 years ago and I have yet to catch another fish that big, but the memory of such an experience will stick with a fisherman as long as he lives.
I have since made the trip in one day on several occasions, but would hate to think of doing that again! The portage trails in that country are not exactly “walking paths” like you think of in a state park or some such place. The terrain is such that you meet up with low places that can only be described as “swamps’ and other spots that requires you to take off, straight up over slippery rocks, mud and various other obstacles which are prone to ‘trip you up’. Doing this with a backpack or canoe on you shoulders makes the trail even more interesting.
Last spring, me and a friend made the trip into Koma at the same time of year, on Memorial Day. It was a lot different than the ‘87 trip, but also left memories that won’t be forgotten. In contrast to the great fishing that we had in ‘87 that included a lot of fish besides ‘the big one’, this last trip barely provided enough fish of one meal. What makes this trip a grand memory is the “challenge” of it. Rain, wind and waves can make a wilderness trip very ‘memorable’. To be totally honest, I am not sure which memory I cherish the most. Whether catching the fish of a lifetime in my relative youth, or meeting a serious physical challenge in my mid-50’s.
It was almost one year to the day after having a full knee replacement that we made this most recent trip into Lake Koma. Calculating the portages according to the rods listed on the Fisher maps, and considering that each portage is covered 6 times on a round trip, we covered 9 miles by foot from Monday morning to Wednesday evening. Two thirds of which I either had a 68# canoe or a 30# backpack on my shoulders. Besides the work of traveling, we had to contend with serious winds, reports were of steady winds at 40 MPH during part of our trip.
The trip in was not bad as far as wind was concerned. We had light rain, but nothing serious, that was a Monday. On Tuesday we planned to fish and make the return trip in two days, on Wednesday and Thursday.
Things went according to plan for a little while. But by mid-morning on Tuesday we had to get off the lake because the wind made fishing rather miserable and the canoe hard to control. As the day wore on, the winds picked up and the rain started. By dark the winds were in a good ‘roar’. I remember looking the trees over near my tent very carefully that night, calculating whether any of them were likely to reach my tent if they came down. I judged correctly and woke up Wednesday morning to the continued roar of wind, but no trees had invaded my tent during the night, for which I was thankful. I looked across to see if my traveling partner’s tent was still free of treetops and was glad to see that he had ‘made the night also’.
As our schedule was, we were compelled to travel that Wednesday in spite of the wind. The fortunate thing for us was that we were traveling on fairly small lakes and much of it was on a small river, so the wind could only kick up serious waves in a few places. Another helpful thing was that as we reached our last lake, which ran northwest to southeast and was several miles long, the wind was generally at our back. This made a very exciting and easy paddle to reach the landing, that is, as long as we made sure to keep the canoe “upright”. Which we did.
The biggest challenge that day was on the portages. During the night of ‘raging wind’, many trees had come down over our portage trails, making a stiff legged fellow really struggle to climb over them with a canoe on his back! I remember being stopped at one spot, stupidly looking at this tree that was over the portage and trying to determine if I could get my ‘bum leg’ high enough to clear it, all the while I had the canoe on my shoulders that I was afraid to set down because I did not think I would be able to get it back up if I let it down. It is very funny now and was “somewhat” funny then, but I am glad there was no video camera rolling while I stood there, like a frozen stump, staring at this tree, which was not in a place that I could go around it, due to huge boulders on each side of the trail. It reminds me of an animal in the headlights, they are blinded and stand still as if they cannot decide the best course of action. That is how I felt looking at this obstacle of a downed tree. When I finally came to my senses and realized that every second I stood there with that weight on my shoulders, I was using up valuable energy that I needed to clear that tree, I executed my plan of approaching it in such a way as to swing my ‘bum leg’ up and over the tree first and follow it with my good leg, to my relief the plan worked, but it is one of those memories we create when we get out of our normal routine and go off on some adventure, if that qualifies as an ‘adventure’. That too is a relative term, depending on what stage we are in our lives. What can be called an adventure at ‘late mid-life’ might not qualify as such for young folks. One of my favorite quotes on the term “adventure” came from Louis Lamour, he defined ‘adventure’ as a romantic name for “being in a lot of trouble”. I have thought of that definition many times and it never fails to cheer me up whenever I have gotten myself into a difficult situation.
Now we are making plans for another spring trip into the BWCA. So far, we have not been as ambitious in choosing a route that requires a lot of portaging, and as long as I am the one packing the canoe, we aren’t going to either! Not yet anyway.
No comments:
Post a Comment