We woke up early so we could lounge in camp and soak in our final hours of camp time before the daunting paddle home, which my back and I were dreading. I know Lucas felt the same.

We sat around like chipmunks shoveling in trail mix by the fistful. I started getting my fishing gear secured – zip-tying in the rods and removing the reels to pack in the tackle case. We all got to work on packing up and taking down tents. I was worried about getting everything into my pack as I was carrying the two-burner stove and it was a lengthy process packing it originally. It took some time but I got it reasonably packed – probably a little sloppier than the original pack job.

Lucas and I got our canoe ready and launched, the first in the water. We headed over toward the Boulder River. We came in the two-portage route from Agnes for the sake of speed. Now, leaving 8 hours before our pickup time for a trip that took us 6 hours on the way in, we could take the more scenic Boulder River route.

The other canoes caught up with us and we cruised into the river, soon learning that cruising was not the right speed for a river named after boulders. We still moved at a good pace and enjoyed the scenery. I was a little disappointed in myself for not choosing the river as our fishing spot the previous night. But that’s hindsight and I think my thinking at the time was sound: go where you had success.

We bypassed a rock dam, thanks to Chris. He stopped on the rocks and ushered all three canoes through the low water before jumping into his canoe. Soon we could see the portage landing for the 114 rods to Agnes. Not a tough landing to find with a group of 8 there before us.

We had seen them pass our camp a few hours earlier. They were double-portaging (aluminum canoes) and were on their second leg. We were single portaging and – after maneuvering out of a muddy landing that sunk Chris up to his knees – we passed them as they returned for the last canoe and some bags.

We chatted with them a bit on the landing into Agnes. A younger group from Canada who were taking the paddling slower than we were. I kind of envied their pace.

We tore a path across Agnes. There was a little wind and a small chop but we cut through it fine. I thought back to all the trouble Lucas had on the paddle in, zigzagging our way north through Agnes. What a difference a few days of paddling makes. We were right with the group this time, making great time. I imagine we got across Agnes in one-third the time it took us on the way in on Saturday.

We entered the river south of Agnes, an area BJ called Dinotopia. We saw huge eagles flying and perched that resembled pterodactyls. The remote area looked like something out of a History Channel recreation of the Mesozoic. Good call, BJ.

Despite the beauty, this was the stretch of the river I disliked most on the way in and was looking forward to putting in the rearview on the way out. The water was really low, and in several spots we beached. I got out and pushed Lucas and the canoe a few times. A couple times we both had to get out. The ground was either a thick much that nearly ate our shoes or a rocky gambit that almost broke my ankle. But we got through quick. I recall it being worse on the way in.

After a long portage, we soon found ourselves on the sandy beach on the north end of Nina Moose Lake. Time for some much needed relaxation. Stretch out the backs, rest the shoulders and fuel up. We still had some trail mix and energy bars left. And BJ had a few electrolyte tablets left to dissolve in our water bottles. I can’t tell you how clutch those were, BJ. They even tasted good.

We stretched out for about 45 minutes and refilled our Nalgene bottles before the paddle across Nina Moose into a pretty fierce headwind. It’s a smaller lake than Agnes but the high winds would make it more difficult to cross.

Immediately I realized I had worried too much about the wind. We actually lucked out that it was a headwind and not a crosswind. We cut through pretty well and kept a straight line to avoid getting the canoe turned and caught by the wind. In a matter of 18 minutes (Chris timed it) we were on the south weedline looking for out entrance to the river.

Now we were on the home stretch and it felt good. Kind of a weird feeling to be excited about getting done with a long paddle when it also meant the end of your trip. But I think all of us were pretty wiped out and ready for a drink with ice and some R and R outside of a canoe. It wasn’t a long trip but we spent very little of it sitting around. We sought adventure and found it.

In the last 20 minutes of our paddle we got a light sprinkle. It was the first we’d seen all trip, as if God was looking out for us. Chris even made the comment that it was as if God was saying, “Thanks for coming, guys.”

Knowing we were way ahead of schedule for our pickup time, Lucas and I slowed a bit to take pressure off our backs. We coasted in as the second canoe was being put up overhead and disappeared out of sight on the final portage of the trip. We pulled out the canoe and pulled out the gear, strapped it on and got the canoe over Lucas’ head.

We got about 10 percent into that long last portage when the sky opened up and we got doused by heavy rain. I had just been wondering aloud to Lucas what the rush was on the way back when all we’d be doing was waiting to be picked up at the trailhead. But Troy nailed it when he pointed out that our pace enabled us to be out of our canoes when the rain came. I wouldn’t have wanted to be in our canoe for that.

We shot the breeze while we waited for our pickup. Our ride came with a cooler of soda and snacks, which tasted phenomenal. An hour later we were back in Ely and immediately made our way to the Ely Steakhouse for burgers and beers. A great way to end a great trip.