Sunday morning, I rose at six o’clock and left my tent. The sun had just broken over the horizon, and I watched it for a while. I could hear Mike snoring in the tent next door. Stifling a laugh, I made a beeline for the latrine. When I returned, I read my Bible for a while, and then took a couple notes in my Boundary Waters journal that would aid me when I worked on the full trip write-up upon my return to my home.

Grandpa emerged from his tent next. I followed him down to the lake side while he washed his face. “Well, Grandpa, this is our last day in the wilderness,” I said. “Hasn’t this trip gone by so fast?” he replied. “I don’t want it to end! Do you?” “I’m having a blast, Joe, but I’m looking forward to sleeping in my own bed tonight,” Grandpa responded. “You know, I’ve learned that I’m not in the shape that I used to be. I’m feeling this trip physically more than I did on any of the others I used to take. I can’t believe that I used to take two trips like this every summer.” “I think, if anything, this trip has shown that you can still do what you used to do,” I encouraged. “I’ve still got it in me, but I have a feeling that this will be my last trip,” Grandpa sadly replied. I didn’t respond.

“Do you want to try fishing again?” Grandpa asked. “Sure!” I replied. “I’m bound and determined to catch a walleye.” He slipped a leech on my hook, and I again began to work the shoreline. Jesse walked down and asked to fish too. I set up a pole for him and baited his hook. He began to cast left and right. The others, by now, were starting to get up. Becky was setting out our breakfast. Jared was looking over the lake as he drank his coffee. Mike was messing around in his tent, packing his gadgets. “Hey, I got one!” Jesse yelled from down below. Something definitely had a hold of his hook. Jesse began to reel it in, when all of a sudden his line went slack. He brought it in. “He got the hook!” Jesse exclaimed. “And the sinker too,” I said examining the line. “My knot must have gone out.” “That’s too bad, Jesse!” Grandpa said. “I’ll bet you had a big northern on there. It would have been so fun to see you pull it in.” Jesse didn’t have much time to be disappointed, though.

“We’re going in swimming!” Amy called. “Do you want to come?” Jesse and I raced back up to camp, pulled on our suits, and then followed Rachel and Amy down to the lake. Amy, who loves the water, jumped in right away. Rachel, Ryan, and Jesse followed suit. Then, to our surprise, Mike strolled down to the shoreline and followed the others in. “Oh, my gosh!” he exclaimed with relief as he settled back into the water. “Does it feel good?” I asked. “Oh, yeah!” he said. Mike washed out his hair and then headed back up to camp to get a towel. I stood on shore taking pictures. “It feels great!” Amy said. “Come on, Joe!” Handing my camera to Grandpa, I slowly stepped into the water and submerged myself. The water was cold but extremely refreshing. Taking the shampoo bottle, I squirted some biodegradable soap into my hand and washed out my hair. “I probably could have waited to shower until we got back to the outfitters’ place later this afternoon, but this sure does feel good,” I said to Ryan. We swam for about twenty minutes, splashing each other and having a real good time. Grandpa sat on shore watching us.

By the time we had dried off, breakfast was ready. “We’re just going to eat up a lot of stuff today,” Becky told us. “Of course, you have your Emergen-C to drink. Besides that, we have plenty of bread, trail mix, Clif bars, chocolate, and a few extra Slim Jims.” “I guess we have a ‘bits and pieces’ breakfast this morning,” I stated as I admired the spread, all laid out on a tarp. “I like that, ‘bits and pieces’,” Becky laughed. “Are we having buckwheat pancakes?” Amy asked. “Don’t start that again,” Ryan groaned. I picked up a piece of bread, spread cream cheese across the top, and added a couple of Slim Jims. “That is gross!” Becky exclaimed. “Just try it,” I said, taking a bite. “It’s fantastic!” None of the others followed my lead; they were missing out. Eating my share of chocolate, Clif bars, and bread, I powered up for the long paddle ahead. “Boy, I’m stuffed to the rafters!” I hollered. “I’m going to organize my pack now so it’ll be all ready to unload and put in the car.” I spread out the things that I had brought with me and sorted it neatly back into Grandma’s duffel bag, securing everything in our Duluth Pack. I laughed, thinking about how I had never once taken out my Boundary Waters how-to guide.

Once breakfast was done, we busied ourselves taking down camp. For the last time, we rolled up our sleeping bags and mattresses and secured them in their stuff sacks. The tents were taken down and put away. The tarps were folded, and the rest of the food was returned to the bear barrels. Mike and Jared hauled everything down to shore and loaded up our canoes. “We have to take a group picture!” Rachel said. “Let’s sit on those rocks up there. That would make a great shot.” Resting the camera on the now cool fire grate, Rachel set up the timer, and then hurried to where the rest of us were sitting on top of the rock shelf. We took two pictures. “I can see a new picture coming in Grandma’s room at the cabin!” Mike said as he looked at the viewing screen. “Let’s head down and take pictures with our paddling partners,” Rachel suggested. When this was done, Grandpa prayed. “Father, we thank you for this great time that we’ve had up here. We pray now that you would bless our paddle across Seagull Lake and bring us back to the outfitters’ safely. Thank you for the character building experience that this has been, and help us to take the lessons we have learned back home to our daily lives. In Jesus’ name, Amen!”

Climbing into our canoes, we pushed off from our final campsite. Mike and I lagged behind while we got comfortable, and I took a few pictures. “It feels like we’ll be paddling into the wind today,” I noted. “I can’t believe that the wind changed just when it should have been at our backs.” “I’m glad that we took our last portage yesterday,” Mike replied.

After getting directions from a helpful paddler, we found Three Mile Island and began following its south shore in a northeasterly direction. “Oh, Becky, you’re not going to want to see this,” Mike called as a snake swam through the water past our canoe. “What is it, Mike?” she asked. We pointed to the snake. “That’s just gross!” she said and paddled just a little bit harder until the snake was far away. The paddle was long and hard, right into the teeth of the wind, and it took us about two hours to paddle the full length of Three Mile Island. To pass the time, I began to sing, starting out with a couple of folk songs. Then, I remembered that it was Sunday and began to sing hymn after hymn.

As we brought up the rear, we saw the others stop at a large rock that stood like a ship at anchor. Becky stepped onto it, pulled out a bear barrel, and tossed candy to each of us. We rested for about twenty minutes. “This is sure a nice rest,” I stated as I leaned back in my canoe chair. “How are you doing, Grandpa?” “This is pretty hard,” he replied. “Are you drinking enough water, Dad?” Mike called to Grandpa. “I’m good, Mike!” he called back. “Hey, Amy, I was singing while I was paddling back there,” I said. “You know, I was too!” she replied. "I think God put this little island here for us," Rachel added. "Does anyone know how long Three Mile Island is?" Mike asked. "About six miles, with the wind," Jared commented, as we all cracked up.

After raffling off the last few candy bars, we set off again for the final stretch of the paddle with Jared in the lead. We were back in civilization again, and I could see large, stately lake homes perched on top of the high shoreline. Jared was trying to find the channel leading to the outfitters. He would dart into a small bay, look for a while, and then re-emerge. After about an hour, Mike spoke. “I think I see the outfitters,” he told me. “See that American flag waving? I remember that from when we were there earlier.” I looked closer only to see that Mike was correct. My heart sank, and I didn’t put as much into my paddling. I watched Grandpa and Amy paddle in ahead of us. “This could be the last time that Grandpa ever sees the wilderness he loves so much,” I thought.

I began to think about Grandpa, who was going to turn seventy-two shortly. He is a man who has impacted many lives. Someday, a lot sooner than I would like, the Lord will have to bring him home to heaven. Because I know this, any time I can spend with Grandpa is priceless to me. I treasure any opportunity I can get to be with him and bless him, because I know that every time I see him could be my last.

Mike and I were in the final canoe to reach the outfitters. We pulled up to their floating dock and received a hearty greeting from the employees. “Do we have to unload anything?” Mike asked. “No, sir, we’ll take care of that for you,” they assured us. Scrambling onto the dock, we headed to join the others on shore. Mellie emerged from the main building. “We’re glad to see that you made it back safely!” she said. “Did you have a good trip?” “We did!” Grandpa said, speaking for all of us. “Can I get you anything cold to drink?” she asked. We all looked at each other. “Cokes all around would be great,” Grandpa told her. Mellie headed off in the direction of the main building. I watched the other employees as they un-loaded our equipment. They already had the canoes out of the water and were spraying them off with hoses. After pulling out the large waterproof bags that had served as liners, they washed out the Duluth Packs and hung them to dry. Returning with our Cokes, Mellie set them all down on the table. I opened mine and walked back to the dock alone.

Standing there, I drank my Coke while looking back down the channel towards Seagull Lake. I was thinking about John Colter, a member of the Lewis and Clark expedition. As the expedition was approaching Independence, Missouri, the place it had departed from many months before, Colter saw the town on the horizon. Realizing that he never wanted to leave the wilderness he loved, he separated himself from the expedition, forfeiting all the rewards that would be his, and returned to the wilderness where he lived for the rest of his life. That day, standing on the dock, I knew exactly how John Colter felt.

We had one more thing to do before heading off to shower. Our team stood together, and the outfitter took a picture for us. United through the good and the bad, we stood with huge smiles on our faces. Grandpa's vision of a team had come to fruition.

After taking a refreshing shower and loading up our cars, we started off down the Gunflint Trail. I was still in deep thought. We had taken the trip that I had planned so carefully and looked forward to for so long, and now it was over. All I had were the pictures, the memories, my souvenir paddle, and the marked up map that the outfitters had given us, which the others had let me keep. I stared out of the window in silence.

The radio broke me out of my thoughts as I began to listen.

“You know a dream is like a river Ever changing as it flows And a dreamer’s just a vessel That must follow where it goes. Trying to learn from what’s behind you And never knowing what’s in store Makes each day a constant battle Just to stay between the shores.

And I will sail my vessel ‘Till the river runs dry Like a bird upon the wind These waters are my sky. I’ll never reach my destination If I never try So I will sail my vessel ‘Till the river runs dry.

Too many times we stand aside And let the waters slip away Until what we put off till tomorrow, Has now become today. So don’t you sit upon the shoreline And say you’re satisfied Choose to chance the rapids And dare to dance the tide.”

I thought about all the past years of my life when I had shrugged away all thoughts about going the Boundary Waters. How grateful I was now that I had taken the plunge and blessed my grandfather so much. “Grandpa, that verse describes how I thought about the Boundary Waters for so long,” I said. "I don't think that anymore, though." “That's amazing, Joe." he replied. “Listen to the next part,” Jared said.

“I know there will be rough waters And I know I’ll take some falls But with the good Lord as my captain I can make it through them all.”

“Amen!” I thought.

“And I will sail my vessel ‘Till the river runs dry Like a bird upon the wind These waters are my sky. I’ll never reach my destination If I never try So I will sail my vessel ‘Till the river runs dry.”

As we drove down the Gunflint Trail, with the tall forests on each side of us, I sang along to the final words of the song.

“So I will sail my vessel ‘Till the river runs dry.”

Lakes Traveled:

Seagull Lake