Time to go home. A long day on the Stuart River commenced, with more blown-out beaver dams. And I asked before the trip & no one knew - & now I know that yes, there are pike in White Feather Lake. We paddled, portaged, paddled, rinse & repeat. The Stuart is a beautiful, winding river that ambles, in no hurry, to the south. Beautiful, that is, until the final bend before the big portage.

A huge beaver dam had evidently blown out, leaving what looked like the aftermath of a world war, or the face of the moon. Years or decades of mud covered everything in black, stink, & brown. Luckily there was an old pier-like structure thrust out into the pond where we could load the canoe. The landscape was devastated but fascinating. We saw more birds in that short stretch than the entire rest of the trip; witnessed two beaver lodges with the entrance holes exposed; & found out just how much mud weighs stuck to the bottom of the canoe (roughly the equivalent of concrete). We paddled through the wasteland slowly & levered ourselves inch by inch up the old ‘portage’ entrance until we found the bottom of the endless muck & exited the canoe to challenge the long, but not difficult, portage out.

And so it ended. Our trip into the Sundial was the greatest BWCA challenge we tackled, & we felt amply rewarded in silence, solitude, fishing, & beauty. As always, I can’t wait to return.