Saturday, June 05, 2004

Point on Lincoln island………. Wind bay, Wind Lake, Moose Lake.

Oh, the last day of the trip is always a melancholy one for me. The voices in my head tell me to turn back but the grip of impending reality pulls me back to the mainstream. If I could just have slept longer maybe I wouldn’t have had to deal with the last day but I just couldn’t fall asleep again. As I got up and out of the tent, the others were all ready moving about and the coffee was just about ready. The sky was covered in clouds, it was raining in the distance, and wind was over the water. We got camp broken down and moving on the water earlier than we needed.
 
   For some reason, the desire to get out of the wild moves some people quicker than others.  It’s been par for the course that we do this “mad rush back”. I can speak for the Cookie and I that we were in no rush to return but return, in fact we did mention turning around more than once that day but I’m not sure how serious we were.

About halfway from camp to the “pickup point” the rain hit us. It wasn’t so bad though, as the rain moved in, the wind died down. We made it to the “pickup point” in no time. Possibly poor planning on my part or I’ll call it “error on the safe side” got us there hours before the scheduled pickup time. Sitting on a rock point for hours was not how I intended to spend my last day. After sitting, standing, and pacing for hours, the time of the pickup was finally at hand. Every motorboat that passed perked our ears and we would get anxious and shuffle around some more. Fifteen, twenty, thirty minutes past our pickup time and we started to wonder… Did they get everything clear for our pickup? The guy who we dealt with… was he on top of his game? The others started to panic a bit, as they believed the distance out would not be achievable if we waited much longer. After about 40 minutes I started to get the itch to. That’s when the conference took place… Do we wait or do we head out? We voted to head out. I had previously planned a rout out before the decision to rent a tow boat was made… I wasn’t too worried because we didn’t really have far to go to get out. Deep down inside I think/know most of them thought I didn’t really reserve a tow out and this was all part of my diabolical plan. The only defense I had for that was one of the others was there with the outfitter when he was calling about the tow. 

   I know that the Boundary Waters, jealous girl that she is, took offense to our combustion engine cruise through her on our way in… She wasn’t about to let us just cruise on out of her in the same fashion… No… She had to get a piece of us also and she did. She was the one that got us hooked on this land in the first place so I wasn’t offended.

   After an hour passed, we jumped into the canoes and started out. The wind was calm and the rain had stopped. We paddled south into Wind Bay and portaged on the highway of a portage (not only are they less muddy and thick in the B-Dub… they smell better too) into Wind Lake, across Wind Lake and portaged to Moose Lake and to the landing. At the landing our equipment was collected and we packed the vehicles and headed off.


   My canoe was all ready working on a diplomatic resolve to the issue of the lack of tow before we made the landing. We had to get to the outfitter and resolve the situation before one of the more boisterous others got there. That’s just what we did. As soon as the boats were landed we sent the Cookie to go make sure they didn’t close and knew we were on our way. I was the second to arrive and the outfitter was all ready very apologetic and ready to refund our money and offered perks if we used them again. We even squeezed in eight free showers to top it off. I don’t know for sure how this will affect the decision of who we use next year, but I’m sure it will weigh in.

   After the showers the group gathered again at the Chocolate moose for some Moose Drool. Cookie informed the waitress to get five straws and cut one short. When she returned we drew straws… I’m glad to say I belong to “The order of the Long Straw” and will not be carrying title of “Foodbag guy” next year. I assume the position of “Cookware guy” till that day comes or someone else wants that title.

   We then enjoyed dinner and each other’s company for one last night in Ely. All in all it was another wonderful trip and I’m happy to report not one single fatality so far. Quetico offered some different obstacles but we prevailed. I’m not bothered by the humbling experience of digging cat holes. The portages were in “less used condition” but we didn’t find anything too troubling. The unmarked camps made for a sharp learning curve that we will be better prepared for in the future… I hope. 

Finally, the bar has been raised on several accounts. 
   The first account is that it only took us two hours to get from the supposed tow pickup point back to the boat launch… when we want to or need to we can fly through some miles!
   The second and by far the best,for sure, is that a 67 year old man and another of “unknown to me age” made the trip… Either we aren’t pushing hard enough (hee hee hee) or that we still have many years ahead of us in which we can do this. They were two tough old men that never complained once and I wouldn’t bat and eye if they wanted to go again. It was an honor having them.