When I got up around 6:30 on Other Man Lake, the south wind was still bringing some smoky haze along. Otherwise it looked like we would be having more clear warm weather. 

Then the rising sun lit up something ominous to the northwest -

We would have to keep an eye on that. In the meantime I fired up some coffee -

Morning java makes sleepy-head happy -

We lazed around and planned our layover day. Given the looming storm cloud, it seemed like a good idea to stay closer to home in the morning. So we thought we might paddle before lunch into some of the nooks and crannies of Other Man we had never explored, and maybe even see how easy it is to get to that little Unnamed Lake just to the east. Then, after having lunch back at the campsite, we could make our expedition to Bit Lake. It sounded like a perfect day. But first we wanted to cook up some pancakes. Just as I was about to get them going, thunder boomed overhead, and a few drops of rain fell. We quickly battened down the campsite and put the rain tarp over our kitchen. 

Moments later it was sunny again, and still very warm. Pancake prep got going under the tarp, which doubled as a sun shade -

The rain may have cleared quickly, but the wind, now blowing from the northwest, really picked up velocity, initially bringing more smoke with it -

With the wind and potential for more storms, we decided to bag the pre-lunch tour of Other Man and hang out at camp the rest of the morning. We puttered, perfected the tarp rigging, and read a lot. Fortunately, we had both brought along 1000-page Victorian tomes -

We still got a bit antsy -

On the bright side, our campsite was on a large island with elbow room. To escape the wind we moved down into a little valley when we ate lunch. Then we made some after-lunch coffee - one of the great luxuries of layover days - and sat up on our cliff, reading some more and just staring out over the lake. 

At least the smoke had cleared in the late morning. But the wind kept blowing. It was starting to look like we'd have to forgo our afternoon excursion too.  Once again, exploring Bit Lake would have to wait for another year. 

We were also wondering whether our four neighbors from Ely were windbound at their camp back on Bell Lake. They were supposed to be picked up at Sucker Lake the next day. So unlike us, they really didn't have the luxury of a layover, except in an emergency. Then around 2:30 we saw the foursome paddling by below our aerie. They were fighting a stiff headwind, but still gave us a cheery wave when they saw us.

About a half hour later, a new thunder front blew in from the north-northwest, pelting our campsite with cherry-sized hail. Did I say cherry-sized hail? Yes I did! Fortunately, our CCS tarp stood pat and protected us from those icy balls of pain -

We were fine. But we were wondering if the Ely women had found shelter from the storm and hail. A few days later, when we were back home, we found out from Brenda that the group took refuge on the shore of This Man Lake when that front went through. And fortunately the hail didn't fall where they were, just a couple miles from us.

After the hail, the atmosphere was really unstable, with thunder boomers all around and very gusty wind, punctuated by hot still sunny moments. When the sun popped out it was so intense that we had to hide under the tarp from it, too.

Here's some pictures of the changing scene over a few minutes. 

One -

Two -

Three -

Later in the afternoon I spent some the time jotting down notes about our trip. These are the last words I wrote in my notebook: "Today's weather must be bad for controlling the Pagami fire - but maybe cooler (and wetter?) weather is coming?"

I had no idea how true that was. This was the day that the Pagami Creek Fire exploded into an unprecedented 16-mile run to the southeast, transforming it in a single day from a moderate (if growing) fire to the biggest in recent Minnesota history. But cooler and wetter weather was on the way, and that proved instrumental in helping to contain the fire after its historic spread the day we laid over at Other Man Lake.

In fact, the cool down started almost as soon as I jotted those last notes. Until then, we had been sitting around in shorts and tshirts, despite the strong winds. Now we started adding layers, pulling out long-sleeved clothes, extra fleeces, even watch caps that we had carried at the bottom of our pack for most of the trip. That flock of southbound geese that flew overhead at dawn yesterday was indeed a harbinger of fall.

Unfortunately, we had never gotten around to going for a dip to rinse off during the warm part of the day. Now I was feeling kind of grungy, but it seemed too cold to get in the water. Instead we hunkered down with a light dinner (we hadn't burned much energy). Then we found a spot that was sheltered from the wind to drink a little Maker's Mark under a threatening sky - 

This was the first day of any of our canoe trips that we never left camp. At least our campsite never felt confining, the way some canoe country sites might if you couldn't get on the water.

The big blow continued after we got in the tent. We slept with the rain fly on for this first time this trip, as protection from the wind as much as from any more rain -

As we read a bit more in the tent, we could hear a pack of wolves howling and barking and growling on the mainland just across from our island. The wind muffled the sounds. But David also heard what sounded like a moose snorting and grunting - apparently a battle between hunger and death, adding to nature's drama on this day.

In the early morning hours, probably about 3:30, I woke to silence.  The wind had stopped. Or had it just paused?