This was what we have always fondly referred to as a “wake-up”. We didn’t really need to travel much today. We like to get close to our entry point on the last night, so that our last morning can be leisurely, and we can end our trip before lunch. On this particular trip it was an extreme example of that, since we were camping on the entry point lake!

I was awake at 6 as always. The morning was a bit cooler, at least I was wearing my wool shirt again for a little while, anyway. Perhaps just out of stubbornness—it’s a September trip, after all!

There was a little mist on the lake and I watched the sky turn from the dawn pink to bright in just a brief time.

We had our hot chocolate right away and Spartan1 began to break camp as I prepared breakfast. I was thinking that he took the tarp down awfully quickly, but then, it has been established that it takes us forever to get everything packed up and we want to get to the Trestle Inn for lunch!

Breakfast consisted of Adventure Eggs, scrambled, with the last two Baby Bel cheeses folded into them like an omelet. That turned out OK, but no matter how you fix them, powdered eggs aren’t like fresh. We had hash browns again, and I eked out the last of the Parkay to fry them.

I did a small photo essay on the biffy trail. This biffy trail is a bit unusual for a BWCA site, in my opinion. First of all, it doesn’t go uphill. Most of them do. Most of them go off into the woods, climb up quite a bit (usually on some roots or some rocks) and end up with a throne that is elevated, sometimes even with a lake view. Or they are really ‘way back in there, in the underbrush somewhere. Hidden.

This one is a downhill path. Open and easy. Short. Lined with large downed trees that appear to be remnants from the ’99 blowdown, which were felled by a FS chainsaw and left right where they fell—as long as they weren’t blocking the trail. They sort of look as if they were just scattered about. Helter skelter. You follow the trail, turn the corner, and suddenly—there it is! Right out in an open clearing! With flowers for ambience. Who could ask for more?

A butterfly stopped to pose on Neil’s personal pack. The same, boring kind of butterfly we have had for the entire trip. (I am hard to please at this point. I’m disappointed with my photo options.)

And chippie stopped to tell us goodbye.

The lake is clear here, with just a bit of the brown stain from tannin. I photographed some rocks under the water a ways out from the shore. And one last flower on the sandy beach. I am not sure what these are called, but they aren’t purple asters, for once.

A man with a ‘yak paddle came by in a green canoe. I was struck with the amount of time a wake lasts in completely calm water. What a large impact one canoeist makes upon a lake all by himself! There is an essay there somewhere, but I don’t have time to write because I must break camp to go home.

Kawishiwi Lake is clear, smooth as glass, as we paddle on our last morning. A fish jumps ahead of me and I see the silver body as it clears the water, then the huge concentric circles spreading on the surface again as the sound of the splash subsides. There is a mourning cloak butterfly at the landing, so I get out my camera. It floats and glides along the shore, then flies out over the lake and drowns on the surface of the water. Sigh.

The group of mergansers is playing on a rock offshore.

And we load up the car and head down the road again, this time a dusty road (it is so hot and dry here) to get our “beer and grease” at Trestle Inn. Spartan1 turns on the radio and flips through stations. He is lucky to pick up a station out of Ontonagon, Michigan that is carrying the MSU-Florida Atlantic football game, so we are able to hear the end of the game. The Spartans win big! 44-0. A shut-out! Go Green!

And the bright orange is coming into the maples as we leave on the forest road after our lunch, on our first leg of the journey that takes us away from the canoe country and back to Michigan.