Our alarm was set for 4:30, but I was wide awake by 4:00 and making last-minute checks of our gear and reviewing the route on the map. Because of concerns of low water levels on the Horse River we decided to take the alternative route to Crooked, one with the 320 rod portage. I had traversed that portage two years earlier, but that was at the end of a trip, when the food barrel was mostly empty. This year we would be double portaging that route with gear and food for an entire week, and the temperatures were predicted to be in the low 90s...

With a quick breakfast in the bunkhouse of breakfast burritos we had made in advance, we drove to the entry point and had our canoes in the water shortly after the sun broke over the horizon. It was going to be a glorious day and I felt so at home being back in canoe country. The paddle down Pickett Creek and across Mudro Lake went smoothly as I got used to paddling a solo canoe with a double bladed paddle. As is generally the case, the portages between Mudro and Fourtown were a pain in the you know what but we got through them and had smooth paddling, with little wind, across Fourtown, Boot, Fairy, and Gun lakes. Before we knew it we were ready to tackle the long portage between Gun and Wagosh. By that time the temperatures had climbed into the uncomfortable range and so we rested a bit and had some lunch and chatted for a while with another group of three paddlers who were coming out of Crooked and who had just finished the portage that we were mentally preparing ourselves to undertake. The heat and the weight of the full food barrel made me realize that no amount of off-season conditioning can fully prepare you for the rigors of a wilderness canoe trip. But step-by-step the three of us double portaged two canoes, a food barrel, three portage packs and our fishing gear across this lengthy portage. I think that the hardest part of the portage was the heat and the lack of wind. Thankfully we had all be keeping ourselves hydrated throughout the day, and forcing each other to keep drinking water.

We had hoped to spend the first night on Lake Wagosh, but we quickly found that the only campsite on the lake was occupied, so we continued to the next portage and on to Nikki Lake, where we found the sole campsite to be available. We set up our tents and skipped putting up our Nemo screen shelter since we were planning on breaking camp first thing in the morning. After a quick dinner of brats on tortillas which we grilled over the fire, we retired to our respective tents. It was a clear night and still a hot night, with little wind movement, so we kept the flies off the tents, but kept them stored right inside the tents. I remember waking up around 2:00 in the morning and looking up at a glorious night sky filled with more stars than I had seen in years and thinking to myself how blessed I was to be in a setting where I could witness such a wonderful sight. After enjoying the starlight for a period of time I fell back to sleep, only to be awaken shortly after 3:00 by the sounds of the three resident swans that we had seen earlier in the evening. They were trumpeting something fierce, and flapping their wings against the water in what seemed like unscheduled nighttime flight maneuvers. As I looked up in the sky I noticed that the stars were no longer visible and I soon saw flashes of heat lightning in the sky, illuminating heavy cloud cover. As I started to hear the rumble of thunder I called over to my buddy in his tent and the two of us quickly got up in the dark to put the flies on our tents just in time before the skies let loose with a tremendous thunderstorm. Thankfully we had battened down the hatches in time to keep ourselves and our gear dry and we each rode out the storm in our tents.

It didn’t take too long to dry our tent flies the next morning, and after heating more breakfast burritos that we had packed in frozen, we broke down camp and prepared for our second day of paddling, with our goal of finding a good base camp location at the top of Friday Bay. The paddling and portaging from Nikki Lake to Crooked Lake was relatively uneventful as we even had a slight tailwind to help us paddle up the length of Friday Bay. I was making good time paddling the solo canoe, so once we reached Crooked Lake we decided that I would paddle ahead to locate an open camp site at the top of Friday Bay. Before I started paddling north we reviewed the map and had a plan as to which sites I would look to first and then we set up a meeting location. As I paddled up Crooked Lake I was enjoying the beauty around me and getting into the rhythm of efficiently paddling with the double blades. However, because of the warm weather it wasn’t long before I had depleted my two 32 ounce Nalgene water bottles and I resorted to the old “dip and sip” method of filling a water bottle in the middle of the lake. Staying hydrated continued to be a major theme on the traveling days of this trip.

The first site that I had hoped to secure was taken and since it was the farthest site up on Friday Bay I began my backtracking to check the availability of the alternative sites that we had discussed. Luckily it didn’t take long before I found a prime island site that turned out to be an ideal location for our group, with a good landing spot, a nice kitchen area and with plenty of room for two tents and our screen shelter. As I unloaded my two packs from my canoe I spied my buddies in their tandem and they quickly saw me and we were able to get all our gear unloaded and decide on the layout of our camp for the next four nights. One of the first tasks, after getting tents set up, was to filter a good supply of water for the three of us.

I had upgraded my filtration system from my old stand-by pump to a Platypus 6 liter gravity filter and that turned out to be one of the best gear acquisitions in years, as we quickly had a 5 gallon jug filled with fresh filtered water without anyone getting worn out trying to hand pump the water. It was such an equipment upgrade that I was literally mesmerized watching how smoothly the water flowed from the “dirty” container into the clean container. With a basecamp arrangement, coupled by the hot weather, I knew that we would easily stay hydrated during this trip.

After taking some time to get settled into camp and rest a bit from paddling, we pulled out the rods and reels and tackle and got ourselves rigged up for some afternoon fishing. Our explorations near our campsite showed good promise as we reeled in a good number of smallmouth bass and a few pike. I pulled ashore at one point and loaded my canoe with several nice pieces of beaver driftwood, which we sawed into a nice stack of firewood for our evening meal.

Despite the high temperatures during the first two days of our trip, the New York strip steaks which I had seasoned and froze before the trip were a perfect temperature for our evening meal, as the water bottles that they were packed around were still frozen. I had purchased an “Ice Mule” soft-sided cooler that did an excellent job of keeping our fresh food for days 1 and 2 cold and/or frozen until it was time to use them. So we ended our second day of our adventure, having found our base camp and having gotten a good start at fishing, with a fireside meal of grilled steaks and mashed potatoes. After savoring our meal and enjoying the tranquility of another night in the wilderness, we retired to our tents for a restful sleep without any storms.

We started today with a hearty breakfast of pancakes and since the waters on Crooked Lake looked calm, we decided to make the trek over to Saturday Bay, to explore some new territory and hopefully find some active bass. Alas, as is often the case, it didn’t take too long before the winds started to pick up strength. As I paddled across the top of Friday Bay I quickly discovered that my solo canoe did not have enough ballast in the stern, as I had to really dig in hard to maintain a somewhat straight course. Once I realized the situation I charted the shortest course to a protected shoreline, where I pulled in and found an ample supply of rocks to level my load so that I could stay on course. This was something I hadn’t had to do in the past when paddling a tandem canoe. By the time we got to Saturday Bay the wind had picked up a bit and kept shifting directions, making the fishing difficult, particularly for me in my solo canoe. I did use my anchor bag quite frequently, picking it up to position my canoe in a new location and then dropping anchor and casting from my new position. We picked up a fair number of bass in the 15-17” range and a few decent northerns, but the wind and the sun made for a challenging day, particularly as the wind continued to pick up speed as the day progressed.

By late afternoon we rendezvoused our canoes near the entrance to Saturday Bay and decided that the strong southerly wind was going to make for a challenging paddle back to camp. After reviewing our maps we planned our route back to basecamp, noting how best to stay sheltered from the wind, and looking at areas where we could pull ashore if necessary.

The journey back to our basecamp went well until we reached he northeast corner of Friday Bay. At that point we were exposed to the full force of the wind as it whipped its way up Friday Bay. Seeing lots of whitecaps rolling up the lake I nosed my canoe into the shelter of a point that offered protection from the wind. We decided at that point to wait out the wind in this sheltered area that included a small cove and some flat rocks that made for a good resting spot, using our PDFs as pillows. While my buddy and I were resting in the sun and discussing how long we would wait out the wind, his 15-year old son, Gabe, was casting in the calm water of the cove and soon landed a couple nice bass.

After resting at this spot for a good 30 minutes I decided to explore the point of this peninsula. There was a small rock island about 60 feet past the end of the peninsula and so I rigged up a jig and decided to cast into the current between the point and the island. I was only halfway through my first retrieve when a walleye took my hook. Not having a stringer with me I released the fish. But when a caught a similar walleye on my second cast I hollered to my friends to bring a stringer. It literally took me about six casts before I had four nice eating sized walleyes on a stringer. I then caught and release another dozen walleyes over the course of the next hour. My buddies were having similar success, as we had clearly stumbled upon a school of walleyes hanging in the current off this point.

While this walleye frenzy kept us all occupied for a good hour, we noticed that the wind was starting to let up, although not by much. We also noticed that the sky in the west had turned black as an ominous bank of thunderheads was rolling in just a little too fast for our comfort. After looking at the time, and the waves that were still rolling up Friday Bay, we decided that it was time to load our canoes and make a dash across the bay to some islands that would offer shelter from the wind and give us the easiest route back to camp. Although we had all been looking forward to fresh walleye for dinner, we decided that weather conditions weren’t going to make it possible to spend the time filleting the fish on our stringer, nor did we want to paddle across the bay with a stringer towing behind a canoe, so we released the fish and watched each one swim strongly back to the deep.

The wind was still blowing hard as we crossed the bay, but it had definitely let up some from earlier in the day, and both canoes were spurred on by the dark clouds that were rolling in close behind us. We made it back to camp and put our canoes safely away for the day and I quickly rehydrated a meal of hamburger helper while the others made sure that everything in camp was secure and either in a tent or under the screen shelter. As we ate our dinner and put away dishes thunder was rumbling to the north of us in more intensity. There would be no evening of sitting by the water and relaxing. Instead we retired to our tents just minutes before the sky opened up with a torrent of rain, interspersed with lightning and loud cracks of thunder.

Thursday morning rolled around and the storm from the night before was replaced by sunshine. Although we received a much-needed dousing of rain, we were thankful that everything in camp was in order and dry. Breakfast was oatmeal today, which we were able to prepare, eat and clean up in quick fashion so that we could get back on the water to find more fish. Appropriately, we decided to focus our attention, that Thursday, on Thursday Bay. I had fished Thursday Bay before, so I went over the map with my partners and gave them suggestions for which bays to focus their attention, and we made plans to meet up near “little current” late afternoon. I was going to dawdle around camp a bit before heading out for fishing and I was going to focus on some other areas in order to give my buddies some space for fishing and taking advantage of the solo canoe.

I explored some small bays between Thursday and Friday bays and I had some good luck with smallmouth bass using a Whopper Plopper on the surface. It is definitely a thrill to watch a bass hammer a top-water bait, and the small bays that I initially fished were well protected from any wind, making my presentation more enticing. After working my way through two bays and having good luck with the fishing, I paddled over to Thursday Bay and went straight over to Little Current, which had very little current going through it compared to when I had been there two years earlier. The lower water levels were definitely noticeable at that landmark. Since my friends were fishing down in Thursday Bay proper, I headed east of Little Current and fished the islands and little bays that led toward Wednesday Bay. The fishing was good but a little slower than it had been earlier in the morning. As it was getting closer to the time when we had planned to meet near Little Current I paddled my way north and drifted down “Big Current” to get an idea of how the water flow compared to Little Current. I decided to switch to a jig, thinking that I could hook into a walleye or two as I lazily drifted through Big Current. While the water looked very fishy I had no strikes, and there was another canoe at the bottom of Big Current so I focused on staying out of their way, since they were ahead of me.

At the bottom of the run I pulled in my line and started paddling toward Little Current when I spied my partners who had pulled ashore near a vacant campsite. They weren’t exactly sure where “Little Current” was, so I told them that we were close and that they should just get back on the water and follow me. Since they had to get loaded back in their canoe I decided that I might as well drift my jig while I waited for them to catch up to me. That turned out to be the most fortuitous decision I made on the entire trip, because I had only had my jig in the water for a minute or two when it was struck hard. I set the hook and initially thought that I had gotten hung up on the bottom. But soon my rod was literally doubled over and line was zinging out of my reel, causing me to slightly adjust my drag. I knew at that time that whatever was on the other end of the line was quite a fish. It took me several minutes to work the fish to the surface, as it made two or three strong runs, reminding me of some of the salmon and trout I used to catch on fly rods when I lived in Alaska. When the fish finally showed itself I was amazed to see the biggest smallmouth bass I had ever seen in person and at that point I said a quick prayer that the fish wouldn’t go airborne and spit my hook. After a couple more short runs the fish was ready to land and thankfully I was able to maneuver the rod and my landing net to quickly bring the fish to the canoe. At that point I told my friends that we need to paddle to shore for pictures before I released this amazing bass. So I straddled the net handle under one leg and picked up a paddle and pointed my canoe to a good landing spot. Once I got out of my canoe and took a closer look at the fish in my net I couldn’t believe my good fortune. I fumbled through my backpack and pulled out my tape measure. A couple measurements confirmed that this fish was 21” in length and had a girth of 15”! Not only was I fortunate to land such a fish, but I did so with my buddies watching from their canoe, so that they were able to share in the joy that I was feeling at that moment. My friend Terry and I had fished a lot together when we both lived in Alaska and he had been with me when I caught my largest rainbow trout and my largest dolly varden and I had watched him land a couple halibut that weighed close to 150 pounds, so it was a special moment that he was able to share with my that day. After taking lots of pictures I released this fish back to the water and as she flipped and swam back into the deeper water I hoped that she would bring someone else as much joy as she brought me that afternoon.

After we released my bass we headed over to Little Current and spent about an hour catching some nice bass and a couple walleyes. However, we were unable to put enough eater walleyes on the stringer for a meal, so once again we released the fish and paddled home for a dehydrated dinner. As we sat around after dinner, listening to a chorus of frogs, I kept thinking how lucky I was that day, not only with landing a fish of a lifetime but simply being in a wilderness environment, connecting with nature and with good friends.

Despite the windy conditions we ended up having pretty good luck fishing, while also enjoy our last day so deep in the BWCA. Since our plans were to paddle about halfway back to our entry point, our evening activities focused on getting gear organized and packing up whatever was not going to be needed in the morning. When I zipped up my tent that evening our camp was halfway packed and I said a quick prayer for calm water in the morning.

Sometimes things work out just right, for when I climbed out of my tent shortly before sunrise I saw that we had clear skies and no wind. Before climbing out of my tent I stuffed my sleeping bag and liner into my compression bag and opened the valve on my sleeping pad. While the air was running out of the pad I quickly closed up the compression bag holding my clothes and gathered any other loose items in my tent and placed them in their proper stuff sacks. A quick roll of my sleeping pad had all my gear put away so I took that gear from my tent and put it into my portage pack. I hung my tent fly over our laundry line to let it dry while I took down the rest of my tent and began preparing breakfast. I was pleased to see that my partners were similarly progressing with taking down their tent. While I prepared breakfast they took down our screen shelter since there were no clouds in the sky.

After a quick breakfast did one more walk through of our campsite and after confirming that all gear was loaded in our canoes we slid our craft into the water and began our trek south down Friday Bay. Although this bay had sent us seeking shelter on two other days, that morning it was blessing us with calm water and just a slight breeze to keep down the temperature. Our trek to the first portage went without a hitch. Although we had lightened the load of the food barrel, we redistributed gear to keep loads close to equal. I also elected to carry our water container, which still had about a gallon of water after we filled everyone’s water bottles. I knew that it was going to be another hot day and I was willing to carry that water so that we could easily refill water bottles to stay hydrated. Our goal that day was to paddle past the mile long portage between Wagosh and Gun Lake, so that we had that beast behind us. Ideally we would find a decent campsite on Gun Lake where we could relax for the rest of the day. Our journey that day went pretty smoothly, as we traversed the portages more efficiently, being blessed with a nice breeze that kept the temperatures more within reason for us. I had a good lead on my partners as we doubled portaged the mile-long trail between Wagosh and Gun and we decided, as we finished the first leg of that portage, that I would load my canoe after I finished my second lap and paddle ahead to scout and hopefully find an open campsite on Gun.

As I put my canoe into the water on Gun Lake and loaded my packs into the vessel, I realized that the breeze that had been keeping my cool during the portage had turned into a strong gale of wind that was funneling right down the barrel portion of Gun. I really had to dig in deep with each paddle stroke to keep my canoe moving forward. Based on intel that I gathered from a group that had just crossed Gun from the other direction, I knew that the first two campsites I had hoped to get to were already occupied, and as I paddled by them I confirmed that tents were up and canoes were on shore at each site. So I paddled around the bend and was ecstatic to find one open campsite left on the lake, which, upon closer inspection, was a gem of a site with nice tent pads, an open area for fishing, and a sunset view, which we had been lacking at our basecamp site on Crooked Lake.

I pulled ashore and unloaded my gear to claim the site, and then I just sprawled out on the rock face near the lake to rest for about an hour before my partners came paddling around the point. They took a slower pace on their last leg of the portage, but they also struggled to paddle against the same wind that I faced while traveling down the barrel of Gun. We took a walking tour of the campsite and decided on tent placements and spent the rest of the day lounging, fishing from shore, and eventually swimming (and washing off a couple layers of grime). At the end of our last full day in the BWCA the three of us sat on a large flat rock and watched the sun slowly dip below the horizon.

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Once I got to sleep, I slept soundly until dawn - which is about 4:00 a.m. in the Northland this time of year. It was cold - the forecast had predicated lows in the high 30s. I pulled a fleece sweatshirt over my tshirt, adjusted my knit cap, tightened the opening of my mummy bag, and went back to sleep. I woke a few more times - once to another mysterious explosion of wings like the one that made my heart race last night - but kept going back to sleep. I had not gotten a lot of sleep the two previous nights, and I was in no hurry today, so I wanted to sleep as late as possible. Finally, about 7:30, I emerged from the tent.

I retrieved the foodpack from its "hiding place." It looked like it had not been touched, not even by a mouse. Then I spent a few hours just drinking coffee and thoroughly enjoying being lethargic. For this solo trip I got a new one-man Java Press that I really liked. It supplied me with great 16-ounce mugs of coffee. I had two mugs full - but they were half-caf so I wouldn't go into orbit.

While enjoying my cups o' joe, I confirmed my earlier decision to stay here another night and just chillax toDAY. MAYBE I WOULD TAKE A DAY TRIP UP TO THUNDER AND BEARTRAP LATER ON. THE WEATHER WAS PRETTY NICE AT THE MOMENT, BUT RECALLING THE FORECAST OF POSSIBLE RAIN THIS AFTERNOON, I PUT THE FLY ON THE TENT. WHEN I WAS STAKING IT IN, I REALIZED THERE WAS AN OLD FLATTENED PILE OF WOLF SCAT RIGHT OUTSIDE THE DOOR -

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AS I WAS COOKING AND EATING BREAKFAST, THE LARGE GROUP I HAD SEEN LAST NIGHT ON THE ROCK AT THE END OF THE LAKE STARTED TO PADDLE BY -

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They were entertaining to watch, in part because they were not really the best paddlers and seemed to go every which way -

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I could also hear some of them speculating about where the portage to Gun was (it was right in front of them). Sometimes I marvel that people survive so well when they don't appear to have much idea what they are doing in the wilderness. Of course, sometimes this applies to me, too (as I would soon demonstrate trimming the canoe on my daytrip).

The birds continued to entertain. A Pileated Woodpecker obligingly flew to a nearby snag and drummed for a while when I was back enjoying the thunder box (such a nice amenity when you are used to digging your own in Quetico). Then a Yellow-rumped Warbler came by back there and sang on a branch just overhead for a while. Back out by the water, I was visited by a Yellow-Bellied Sapsucker, Northern Flicker, some Gray Jays, etc., while the thrushes, warblers, and vireos sang off in the woods.

It warmed up during the morning, probably into the low 60s, and the sun was mostly shining. So I decided to go for another dip before heading out on a daytrip. The water felt colder than last night, and it probably was, after the cool overnight temperatures. But it felt great once I got in, and I enjoyed basking on my rock for a while afterwards with Gull Lake to myself.

Finally, about noon, I ate an energy bar and set off in the direction of Thunder Lake. I had filled one of my packs with gear for the day, including all my food (I wasn't leaving it stashed in the woods during the day), my rain suit, a bunch of other spare clothes, and miscellaneous emergency or potentially useful stuff. I figured I could put the pack just in front of the front thwart, and trim the canoe by moving the seat all the way back. After all, I am a lot heavier than that gear. So I should have counterbalanced the pack even though I was a lot closer to the middle of the canoe.

Wrong. There was a moderately stiff tailwind blowing from the east when I launched to head west. With my pack up front, the stern of the canoe was riding high, where the wind tried to grab it and spin me around. I managed to keep the canoe going the way I wanted to go, but it wasn't easy, and clearly not a good set up. I would have to do something different after the first portage.

On my way to the portage, I noticed a big nest high in a pine near the rock face where the group had been last night. My present situation was ill-suited to paddle over for a closer look. So when I got to the portage, I pulled out my binoculars to see what I could see. There was a bird on the nest, but at this distance I could not tell if it was an Osprey, an Eagle, or something else -

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I resolved to get a closer look on the return trip. Then I set off across the 35-rod portage, which leads to a body of water with the enticing name of Mudhole Lake. Perhaps aptly, the portage to Mudhole is wet and a bit stinky at the Gull Lake end -

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But after the first short stretch it turns into a dry, level trail -

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Mudhole -

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I could have single portaged on this day trip. But I wanted to be able to take pictures along the trail. So I carried the pack across first and then went back for the canoe with camera in hand, just like when I have all my gear. This required further refinements from yesterday's portaging routine, such as figuring out what to with the camera when I was carrying just the canoe across. (Yesterday when I carried the canoe I also had a pack, which I could clip the camera onto). But I got it sorted out.

The next challenge was trying to improve the trim on the canoe. I figured I could experiment crossing Mudhole, since it was such a small lake. My problem would be solved if I could get the pack closer to the middle of the canoe. So I loaded the pack right in front of my seat - behind (not in front of) the front thwart and foot brace. 

I got in and paddled across Mudhole. The pack placement seemed to solve the trim problem. But it did not leave me a lot of leg room. Worse, when I got to the other side of the little lake, the pack left no place to maneuver my feet to maintain my balance as I exited the canoe, which nearly resulted in a dump. I would have to go back to the drawing board after the next portage, which would take me to Thunder Lake.

This picture looks out from the portage landing back at Mudhole -

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Like all the other portages since leaving Fourtown, the 65-rodder from Mudhole to Thunder was smooth and easy. There were some mooseberries along the way - the only sign off Moose I saw this trip -

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The Beavers were busy near the Thunder end -

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After carrying the pack across, I paused to reconsider my plans before going back for the canoe. I was not very happy, maybe a bit unnerved, with my problem trimming the canoe. The sky had grown overcast. The east wind, and the last forecast I saw before leaving home, suggested the weather was headed downhill. The name "Thunder Lake" suddenly seemed like an omen. Just last week, the winds had howled for two days, leaving many canoe trippers windbound. The nice thing about day trips is leaving a campsite all set up to return to. The scary thing about day trips is leaving all your camping gear behind so you don't have it if you get stuck somewhere else.

I stood at the Thunder end of the portage for quite a while thinking about all this, almost ready to carry the pack back the way I had come and return to my campsite to loaf the rest of the day away. After a bit, though, the desire to keep going gathered strength again. There was a nice campsite in view on Thunder that beckoned as a lunch spot -

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I felt that if I could get the canoe trimmed properly, I'd be fine, even if the weather deteriorated. I wished I had an empty dry bag or two to fill with water and put in the stern to counterbalance my pack. But I didn't. Bogwalker had said that he usually finds a few stones to use as weights in this situation. But even though there are always rocks everywhere in canoe country, there didn't seem to be any suitable ones at hand now. As I scanned Thunder Lake, I could see a pile of rocks on a little point just down the shore. I decided to try to rearrange the weight from my pack some, and if that did not work, I'd pick up a few rocks from the pile as I paddled down Thunder.

So I went back to get the canoe, then readjusted the trim. I took a full water bottle and a small dry bag filled with miscellaneous crap out of the pack and hung them from the little hand-grip-cum-thwart at the very stern of the canoe, where they would provide the most leverage counterbalancing the pack. Then I put the lightened pack in front of the bow thwart, but pushed back as far toward the footbrace as possible.

As I launched from the portage, I could immediately tell that this moderate readjustment had solved my problem. The canoe handled great even in the squirrelly gusty wind. There was no need for rocks. And that was a good thing, because I realized that the pile of rocks I had seen on the nearby point was actually the firepit of another campsite.

No matter, all was fine now as I paddled over to the campsite I was eyeing as a lunch spot. This was my view as I snacked on cheese, salami and tortilla sandwiches and dried fruit -

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I relaxed over lunch and took a few pictures. I liked this big tree by the landing of the campsite -

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As I was packing up, I heard some laughter that seemed to be coming from the other side of a nearby island. A lot of noises can sound like human voices in the wilderness, and I sometimes wonder whether I am hearing people or something else. The laughter was pretty clear though. So if I didn't see anyone after I got in the canoe and paddled past the island, it would be pretty freaky.

My imagination was not playing tricks on me. There were three guys out fishing Thunder -

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I was pretty sure that these guys were part of a 4-man group that had single portaged past me on the long portage into Fourtown yesterday morning. I said hello and asked them if they were camped on Thunder. No, their camp was over on Beartrap and, like me, they were just out for a daytrip. After our brief chat, I pushed on to tour the north half of Thunder.

Cliffy shoreline -

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Your correspondent -

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The northern end of the lake is marshy scrub -

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The Beavers up there seemed to have a preference for pine, which is a little unusual, particularly because there was plenty of aspen around for them. One of many jackpines that had been gnawed-

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I circled back toward the portage to Beartrap. More cliffs along the way -

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The Thunder-Beartrap portage is only 9 rods long. I decided to park the canoe and just walk across for a gander at Beartrap, instead of portaging over to paddle around it. A pretty little creek tumbles from Thunder to Beartrap along the portage -

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The view up the short portage back to Thunder -

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After that short stop, I circled back around Thunder toward home. None of the campsites on the lake was occupied. As I made my way back to the portage to Mudhole, I snapped another shot of the great site where I ate lunch -

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Looking back out at Thunder from the portage -

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In the distance I could see the three guys competing with a Loon for fish -

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Having already done my sightseeing along the two Mudhole portages earlier in the day, I single portaged on the way back. It's amazing how fast you go when you carry all your gear at once and don't dilly dally taking pictures.

Two Beavers where swimming near their lodge on Mudhole. They both slapped their tails and went under when they noticed me.

Back on Gull with the canoe properly trimmed, I went to check out the big nest down the shore. A picture from the water -

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You can just barely see the Eagle on the nest on the left in the picture above. I got a better view with the binoculars. But just as I was positioning the canoe to take an unobstructed photo, the wind picked up, and there was no way I could get in position and take a zoom shot with the wind pushing me around. So instead I paddled over to a cool rocky point that provided a little shelter from the breeze -

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At the waterline -

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After lingering there a bit, I paddled back to my campsite -

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My point from the water -

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Corydalis by the shore -

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I got back to the campsite about 4:30. Even though I had not done much today, I was pooped. I stretched out on the flat rock shelf by the water and closed my eyes for a few minutes, dozing off briefly. In the background I could here the frequent drumming of the resident Grouse. It dawned on me then that the explosion of wings I heard late last night and at dawn this morning sounded like a Grouse being flushed. So he was the culprit.

Eventually the sun came out and it got warm on my rock. I gathered a little energy and went for another quick swim. That felt great and reinvigorated me.

Somehow I whiled away the rest of the afternoon and early evening. One thing that took a lot of time was purifying water. We got a Steripen last year, and it works great. But you still need to prefilter the water if you don't want a bunch of little (sterilized) gunk in it. Normally the prefiltering takes no time at all. But I guess there was a lot of gunk in Gull Lake, because the prefiltering was really slow, and I had to clean the prefilter often, as much as twice per liter.

For dinner I made a couple Zup's wild-rice brats and some buttered boiled potatoes, with a side of carrots. Very tasty. The blackflies came out at dinner time and lingered the rest of the evening, but they were never as bad as during dinner yesterday.

After doing the rest of the camp chores, I poured myself a helping of Maker's Mark and sat down on the point taking in the late evening scene. Looking south across the lake -

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And into the little bay on the other side of my point -

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Once again, I missed David and wished I could send him a message letting him know all was well. But I also felt at peace here alone. I had Gull Lake to myself tonight. And there was no one up on Thunder, and just the group of four on Bearcamp. No doubt there were some people camped on Gun, but I didn't hear anyone over there as I had last night. It was very quiet - except for the incessant drumming of the Ruffed Grouse back in the woods; a sharp two-noted bird call from a few places around the lake that I could not identify; the occasional wail of the Loons; and maybe the slap of a Beaver tail. Do I look like I'm going insane yet? -

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I took my final sip of bourbon as the light began to fade -

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I got in the tent about 9:00 and read for an hour or so. I wore more clothes to bed tonight - long johns, long-sleeve t, wool socks, a fleece pullover, and my knit cap. As I was dozing off, I was jolted awake by the explosion of wings nearby again. This time I could also hear a few quiet vocalizations before the flight that confirmed it was the Ruffed Grouse. So that mystery was solved. Although I still wasn't sure why he was flushing near my tent at dusk and dawn. No matter. I was soon fast asleep.