September 16, Day 4: 5 miles, 4 portages, 56 r of portage trail. Lakes: Town, Cherokee, Gordon, Long Island River, Long Island, and Karl. Longest portage was 28r. On the water at 8:30 AM and camped at Karl Lake at 11:45 AM.

We were up and about by 6 AM. The day had all the ingredients of a good day as we made the short paddle to the Cherokee portage. With low water this portage presented us with a couple false starts, but we had fun with our creativity.

We first carried to a small pond, and figured here we are. On looking out over the pond, we discovered (falsely) that we can’t get there from here. With some scouting we discovered another trail segment leading to another pond. OK, let’s take a look with just the packs. Oh, crap, this was worse than the first one. So, back we go to pond 1.

We loaded the canoe and headed into the apparent dead end. Surely, there has to be a way through. Ah ha! So, this is where the water goes, when there is water. In the shallows, we stepped out and gentle nudged our canoe forward through a few twists in the channel and one lift-over. At deep water we hopped back in, took a few strokes, and remarked to each other “That was easy enough, and this is probably Cherokee”. The scenery on the north end of Cherokee fell short of what we saw on the "Mechanic Series". We were glad that we took the Cam Lake route.

Pictures show 1) Portage/float into Cherokee Lake from Town Lake and 2) Upper end of Gordon Lake

I had read a trip report where a canoeist wrote of going down the NE bay looking for the portage into Gordon Lake. Coming from the east side, I could see how easy that would be to do. At the portage there was a nice gravel beach. On the left of the beach was a rock ledge, and on the right, thick brush. Parked broadside to the portage, and fully occupying the nice gravel beach was a fully loaded Kevlar canoe that was half-in and half-out of the water. No one was in sight. Well I’ll be. It was time to wet-foot. We unloaded our packs over the rogue canoe, and then hauled our canoe up and over. As we found out later, the owners were down on the Gordon side waiting for the other canoe in their party to show up. So much for portage trail etiquette.
The water ways between Cherokee and Long Island were an idyllic paddle. The surface was smooth as glass and we slowed our pace enjoying the feel of the day and the country. On the Long Island River, we almost took an unplanned bath. We had become high centered on a gravel bar, and it was only a matter of squeezing a few more feet to get into deep water. Matthew was leaning over with his full body on the paddle pushing while I stepped out with one foot to take some weight off and push. The canoe broke lose. Matthew almost got sucked overboard holding onto his paddle that was buried in the gravel, and I found myself doing the splits with one foot in and one foot out. Whoa, canoe! I ended up in a graceful position with my butt on the floor and a foot in the water. Matt was on his knees, but still had his paddle. When the rocking stopped, Matt grinned, “that was close”.

Long Island Lake invited us to explore her little bays. The day was perfect, and we eased the canoe to the north to find another one of those unassuming Boundary Waters camps. On first sighting, the camp on Karl didn’t seem worth the effort to stop. But, it was close to lunch, time for a break, “let’s take a look”. We ate lunch around the fire pit, and slowly the site started to grow on us. From the looks of abundant piles of undisturbed otter scat on the rocks, the site was also a popular spot with the otters. The decision to stop had been made. Today we will look no further, let’s get the tent up.

We had the whole afternoon for dinking around camp, and it was nice not having anything in particular that needed doing. Matthew did some repairs on the sitting logs, I cut a little firewood, and cleared the remains of a fallen tree from the latrine trail. Time always seems to go by so quickly. One minute you have the whole afternoon and the next minute it was time for supper. In the fall, daylight goes quickly after supper.

That evening we had a beautiful fire and an almost full moon. We fed our fire, sipped Cognac, and talked in hushed tones. The light from the moon lit the entire bay behind us. In front, the water was shaded from the light and we listened to the sounds of the forest and water; the splash of a fish and the more ominous crack of a twig somewhere up behind us in the dark of the forest. One sound kept reoccurring. What is that sound out there? Our ears tunes in. I think that is an otter. We could not see him, but we could visualize the actions from the sounds. We think he was gnawing on crayfish, or maybe he was catching fish. Whatever it was, he sounded like he was enjoying the meal splashing about in the dark. We were in no hurry to hit the sack, but finally the wood ran out, and it was time.

Pictures show 1) Karl lake and 2) Karl Lake camp