I got up around 5:45 to clear skies on our second morning at Other Man Lake. There was a light wind from the south rippling the water. Not much. But a little more than you might expect on a fair-weather morning in canoe country. 

As I sipped my first mug of coffee, the eastern sky began to glow with the rising sun -

While the full moon still glowed in the western sky -

We enjoyed a leisurely morning. The storm seemed to be past, and we had plenty of time to paddle down This Man, No Man, and That Man to Sheridan, where we planned to camp tonight. 

Our campsite after sunrise -

The view down the lake toward the portage to This Man -

We left camp about 9:45. Looking back at our excellent layover campsite from the water -

By now the wind had picked up some from the west-southwest - in other words, directly towards us along the exact orientation of the very linear Man Chain. But it still wasn't too strong, and we quickly arrived at the portage to This Man. The landing at the Other Man end of this portage has been blocked by the same huge stump of a downed tree since at least 2003. After unloading around that obstacle, we carried our gear over the pleasant trail to long This Man Lake -

The picture above shows the far east end of This Man, which is particularly narrow and sheltered. But even here, we could tell the headwind was increasing. Today's paddle might be hard work after all. Time to pull the PFDs back on - they were our constant companions the rest of this trip.

Conditions got rougher when we passed through the pinch point that separates the eastern segment of This Man from the rest of the lake. And they kept getting rougher as we went. I tried to figure out if there was more shelter on the north or south side of the lake. But the wind was pretty much coming straight at us whichever side we were on. At least there were some lulls and opportunities for island hopping. During one comparatively calm moment, we paused to take a couple pictures. Looking forward - 

And back -

We needed a quick pit stop when we were about two thirds of the way down the lake, so we pulled over at the back (east) side of the cedar glen campsite island where we had stayed in 2009. It was a blue sky moment, and we were in a wind shadow, so conditions looked downright pleasant from this vantage point -

That was an illusion. The final paddle on This Man from our rest stop to the portage proved to be the hardest stretch with the fiercest winds on the lake. There was another canoe going the opposite direction along the northern shore, and it looked kind of surreal under these conditions. Even the last few yards to the portage were tough going. Finally, we made it to the west end of the lake.

Out of curiosity I had timed our paddle. It took us an hour and twenty minutes to go the five miles on This Man from end to end, including our rest stop. That seemed pretty good to me, given the weather.

We carried our first load of gear across the portage to No Man. It was stirred up too, despite its small size -

But This Man had calmed a bit by the time we got back to it for our second load -

We finished carrying the rest of our gear across and loaded up. Just when we were ready to launch the canoe, it started raining lightly. Time for rain suits. Then we paddled across windy No Man. 

By now we were ready for lunch, rain or no rain. So we plopped down at the portage landing and ate our peanut butter and jelly tortillas under the dripping sky.

After lunch it was time for the 120-rod portage to That Man Lake. Apparently you can bypass this carry by floating the creek between the two lakes. But with low water and weather that did not invite wading, we decided against trying that now. Besides, I like the portage from No Man to That Man. It's a very pleasant woods path.

When we got to That Man with our first load of gear, it looked a little daunting -

David was still smiling -

The author, starting back for the rest of the gear -

A few minutes later, when we got back to No Man, it looked perfectly serene -

This pine snag marks the beginning of the portage at that end -

The sunshine warmed us up as we crossed the portage for the last time with the rest of our gear. By the time we got back to That Man, it felt downright sultry, despite the stiff wind. So we stripped off our raincoats and were back to wearing tshirts, like we had for most of the trip.

But almost as soon as we started paddling down That Man, it became clear we had misjudged the situation. In the words of the immortal bard, the weather started getting rough, the tiny ship was tossed, if not for the courage of our fearless crew, the Spirit II would be lost.

In other words, a new, particularly nasty squall moved in. I steered toward the south side of That Man's big eastern island to find some shelter from the wind. But then that looked no good, so I redirected us toward the island's north side. That was no better, maybe worse. As we fought the waves, we saw two guys who had taken refuge on shore on the mainland to our north. We paddled past. But it didn't take long to realize that we should be on shore too. If only we could make it to the next island . . .

We dug in with everything we had, inching forward while That Man Lake surged around us. I'm pretty sure this was the scariest hairiest paddling David and I have done in Quetico. We made steady, if very slow, progress. Eventually we reached the safety of the island. Phew!

The good news was that our refuge was a nice site where we had camped in 2003 and stopped again for lunch in 2009. So we could spend the night here if we had to. For a bit, it looked like maybe we would. The wind whipped up the lake, while sparse but cold rain drops pelted us from a grey-black sky. But after 30 or 40 minutes, things started to clear. This picture looks east (leeward) from our haven as the wind abated somewhat, with the island's windshadow in the foreground -

We decided to make a dash to the west end of the lake during this period of relative calm. We hopped in the canoe and paddled hard, realizing that the weather today could whip up the lake again in the wink of an eye. Fortunately our timing turned out perfect. Just as we reached the portage to Sheridan Lake, another windy rainy squall moved in.

At 150 rods, the portage between That Man and Sheridan is the longest - and hardest - along the Man Chain. We had bypassed it on our 2009 trip by going via "High Man Lake" between Carp and That Man. But I remembered crossing it in 2003, also on a wet day, when I took a fall on a slick sideways sloping slab of granite while carrying the canoe. So I stepped gingerly on the stretches of wet granite we encountered as we carried our first load of gear across to Sheridan, with rain drops beating steadily on the canoe over my head. 

Things were still looking a bit dismal when we got to Sheridan Lake after our first carry -

As always, we took some pictures on our trip back between loads. I think this might be the treacherous slab of granite where I slipped in 2003 -

A little mountain-ash along the way -

When we got back to That Man, the squall was past. There was even a partial rainbow promising better things to come -

Miraculously, it was still comparatively calm after we completed the portage and got ready to go on Sheridan Lake. But we didn't completely trust the sincerity of that rainbow, and we knew we needed to move while conditions were good. We were aiming for a reputed campsite at the west side of the main part of the lake, near the entry to a long narrow bay. As we followed the north shore of Sheridan in that direction, I was struck anew by the beauty of our surroundings. But this was no time to stop and take pictures.

We got to the campsite at 4:45 just as more light precipitation was moving in. It was a small but nice site, with just enough room for the tent and tarp and beautiful views across the lake. 

After setting up camp, I was determined to go for a dip to rinse off the grime of the past two days, raindrops and frigid air be damned. We waded in. The water was much warmer than the air now. Or rather, the air was much colder than the water. The conditions did not invite lingering. So as soon as we were clean (relatively speaking) we got out and toweled off as fast as possible.

Then we dove in the tent and started to pull on every warm piece of clothing we had. Three layers on the legs, four layers on the upper bodies, gloves, caps. The whole kit.

Suitably clad for the cold evening, we made dinner and enjoyed our site. The skies cleared once again (at least for a while) -

A visitor -

Cliffs with loon and returning clouds -

We savored the last of our Maker's Mark by the lake shore. Then a little more light rain moved in while the setting sun painted the clouds -

We kept on our longjohns when we crawled into our sleeping bags for the night. And I added a fleece pullover when I got up in the wee hours of the morning to heed the call of nature. The Jeep was 14 miles away at Moose Lake. A few hours paddling - if the weather didn't pin us down.