BWCA An Adventure Of Its Own II Boundary Waters Trip Reports
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12/31/2013 07:44PM   (Thread Older Than 3 Years)
And I thought sanding ribs would take time! Oh silly me as I recently began the process of removing the layers of paint and down to the fiberglass shell of Mac’s Freedom. Fortunately there are tools for this long process. With patience, the work of an orbital palm sander and dust sucking tin-tank vacuum, the faded red topcoat was slowly removed. Once red and now becoming green (the base paint), my craft exposed her colors and provided me time to recall my fist solo, last summer, over a very moist weekend.

Cold rain beat down upon the taut roof and sides of my tent, sounding like Jiffy Pop popcorn attempting to escape its foil cocoon. Wind whipped, the lake, 20 feet from my portable abode, was a furry of foam and churning water. My first semi-solo trip to the BWCA wasn’t starting quite as I had expected. Solo, as in I was spending the nights alone and semi, as in I was meeting a very good friend to fish for the better part of day-two of the adventure. Alone, but not lonely I was cherishing my time in the lakes country.

My close buddy had recently moved to the north shore of Lake Superior, located spitting distance from the gitchi-gumi. Unfortunately for him, he left his heart shattered to pieces in his hometown days before going north, as his long-term relationship had recently collapsed. We would have much to discuss with the rising of the sun.

An avid reader I rarely leave home without a book and this trip was no exception. Adventures to the library typically generate treasures of favored authors and a book or two unknown to me, captured by running my finger blindly across the rows of hardbacks and grabbing whatever I land upon.

“Arrrrgh!” With the anguished cry only equaled by Charlie Brown, I soon learned that my inaugural solo “read” was terrible. Damn. Stuck in a tomb with junk for literature!

The story, or as much as I cared to consume, was actually the 12th in a series of 26 love/drama/romance/bedroom adventure novels of which I was completely behind and confused. It was painful to say the least and an intolerable distraction to the inclement weather.

Later. A lull in the torrent, I ventured out of my nylon cocoon, made chicken wild rice stew and fresh broccoli for dinner, and then wet a line from the shore of my private island, in search of whatever would venture out on this soggy, gray late afternoon. Cast after cast, careful not to snag a tree, and soon I had landed a slab smallie, a ‘hammer handle’ and even a fair sized walleye. The sky, hefty with racing and smoky colored cotton balls, gave me, for the briefest moment, a glimpse of sapphire blue and golden sunlight. A reminder that life, even in it’s dreariest moments, has some brilliance to offer.

Up early the next day, oatmeal with coconut and craisins along with a side of fried spam, gave me the energy to paddle back to the canoe launch site and pick up my friend. The sky, ‘thick as a tick’ with rain, held itself back until we were slow trolling far across the lake. Distant thunder sent us deep dipping to my campsite where a couple of cups of Joe, some gorp and cigars settled us in for a round of guy talk.

Patient and empathetic, as I had worn a similar pair of shoes on more than one occasion, my attention was his as the story unfolded. “Out of no-where, complete surprise, taken aback, hurt, sad, alone and so very lonely,” he poured his soul out over the next couple of hours. With great appreciation for the trial he was putting himself through, I shared some insight as one who had travelled that self-sabotaged road several times before.

My divorce, my broken engagement, my battle to subdue the bottle and my sample of insanity, had all weighted in balance upon my ability to rely upon myself and my perception of a Higher power to carry my banner when I felt alone and bordering upon defeat. When there appeared to be no hope, a tear in my mental fabric, utter confusion and incomprehensible ache, I had learned through experience what I needed most was to take a step back and live my life one second at a time then one minute, followed by five or more. Focus on healing myself by myself, and stop playing the “what if” game. Learn to live with my idiosyncrasies inside each moment and realize that truly I am a pretty decent guy and worthy of happiness.

“Soon, with practice, the pain will subside. New dreams will grow and replace the old ones. Above all be kind to yourself and develop a relationship with who you are so you will never again be alone and lonely,” I consoled.

A lull in the rain, we ventured back on the water for an afternoon of less intense discussion, a lucky walleye hole and even a few laughs. Calmer, still moist, we had slayed some dragons and were at peace when we went our separate ways. Him back to his bachelor bunkhouse on the great lake, and me, a paddle of length, and a tent, which I hopped, was still dry.

Although short, my first solitary expedition was extremely rewarding. Even with marginal weather and a book that still rolls my eyes, great food, a dry tent, personal growth and time with an old friend made the event very memorable.

Glimpses of the fiberglass are beginning to show themselves as I carefully and deliberately removed each layer of paint and primer. The scathing gouges, filled with resin and fine saw dust, sanded down with caution, are blending nicely with the underlayment. My only concern is the weather cracks randomly puzzled across the hull. With luck the two-part varnish will fill and vanish the fine lines and leave behind a smooth and cutting surface for the adventures I am already planning in the years ahead.







 
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01/06/2014 07:53PM  
Sounded like a quality trip to me! "A friend in need, is a thing to heed". Robert Service
Quality time alone is soul cleansing, and sharing time are great memories.
Best wishes on the canoe, looks like a gem!
SunCatcher
 
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