TIME ALLOCATION #4 (2:45 am – )

Lakes/Rivers: (18) Pine River, Magnetic, Gunflint, Little Gunflint, Little North, North, South, Rat, Rose, Rove, Watap, Mountain, Fan, Vaseux, Moose, North Fowl, South Fowl, Pigeon River

Portages: (16) Pine River, Blueberry, Little Rock Falls, Magnetic, Railroad, Height of the Land, South, Rat-Rose, Long, Watap, Lesser Cherry, Vaseau, Moose, Fowl, Partridge, and Grand

Miles: 68

Time: 28.5

Rest time: 0 (YES – 0)

MPH: 2.4

Notable: Portages, especially the Grand were in terrible condition. Some claim the worse condition they have been during the entirety of the Waddell-Kruger Challenge. Others claim they may have been the worst they can remember in their collective trips to the BWCA.

Having a full 2.5 hours of sleep, most in the crew felt rested and ready to go. Yeah right. Unbeknownst to most of the crew at the time, BeaV’s plan (in his head) was to forego camp and go all the way from Cove to Grand Portage. I knew…well to be fair, it was more of a strong feeling than actual knowledge. A couple timely placed inquiries upon BeaV over the past couple of days with wordless smirks in response was enough intel. As he got up that morning, he may have not yet committed in his brain to a go big or go home approach but that thought was in there percolating. That’s for BeaV to explain. All I know is that I felt confident that the fort gates were a possibility.

At Sand Point, that the OFP was out the window. For days now, the scheduled breaks were ignored, and designated rest stops passed us by. If BeaV was going to be true to form, this day would be no different. Any chance BeaV has to improve upon the plan, he will. I tried to do the math in my head, but it hurt so I stopped. We were miles and hours ahead of where the OFP had us being. Meaningful timelines could be crossed if we pushed. We had set a goal for ourselves of 102 hours. At the beginning it felt like a doable but hefty goal for this crew of 8. Now, absent a meaningful injury or boat damage, (insert foreshadowing music here) 102 was out the window. 100 hours was easily in reach. Good job guys! In the back of my head, I had had two numbers…95 and 90. They were just numbers having no real meaning other than they were better than 102 and in 5-hour increments. I couldn’t do the math and estimate how long it would take from this lake to that portage etc. All I could do is think, yeah if we worked hard, we could get to 100, 95, 90. I don’t recall discussing it with anyone (maybe Deke) but I thought if our group of 8 could best the cross-eyed Norwegian’s time (98) from 2018, that would be something. It was not until later in the day that I thought there was a chance of pushing up against some stupid number like 92 or 93…OMG. Let’s Go! I felt BeaV was thinking GP or Bust. Some others though were not in tune with the BeaV. Others may have been in denial. At this point it matters not. BeaV is on a mission and all he must do at some point is get buy-in from enough of us. Let’s Go!

We had good weather the entire time so why would today be any different? Because someone pissed off the canoe gods that’s why. Thanks, MP. Today we had wind and rain for a meaningful segment. We began by finishing the last part of Granite/Pine River and are about to head into Gunflint which is a decent sized and long body of water. It was still very early in the morning so way dark, but we could tell the chop was up. The closer we got to Gunflint the louder the wind became. Until the pinch from Magnetic Lake to Gunflint, we had been somewhat protected. Once into Gunflint, it became clear that if we took the short route along the northerly shore, a very strong wind would be in our face the entire length of the lake. As is common with this crew, a mini cabal was forming. Out of the WRH’s earshot, ideas were floated, and focus groups consulted to gather the votes necessary to spring the quartering plan upon the WRH’s. We gathered and agreed to quarter across Gunflint to the leeward side. BeaV and MAKK may claim to have led that discussion but my memory recalls that they were told and not asked about the impending quartering plan. Either way it worked, and it was the correct thing to do. Yes, it took us longer and we lost time, but we were safe.

It was every bit as difficult as a prior crossing of Basswood a few years earlier. WW and I were doing our level best to quarter across Basswood in a storm trying to stay up with BeaV. I in the bow and WW in the stern. It seemed like each wave broke at the top of our canoe. This crossing was no different and, in some respects, worse. This crossing was in the dark and some lightning was about. The rolling waves were strong and plentiful. It would not take much to capsize. It took the entirety of our skills to remain focused on the task at hand, communicate to each other about waves and not get broadsided. Each boat worked well together, and we made it across. Make no mistake, it was a dangerous crossing. I think WW even put his life jacket on, that’s how bad it was. But there also was something mystical about it as well. It definitely added to the challenge and strengthen our team bond.

Once on the leeward side of Gunflint we still had to get to the end. It is a long lake and although we had some protection from the southerly hills, we were still paddling into strong and swirling winds. At some point a dog started barking at us. F’ing dog. Then, it just stopped. Not the dog, the wind. It just stopped. After apologizing to the gods for whatever MP did, the wind just stopped. Order having been restored in the universe; we were off to the races.

The OFP indicates we had a bunch of portages and lakes to cross this day. I don’t remember most of them. What I do remember is that Deke and I throughout the trip alternated who carried the canoe and who carried our packs. This worked well for us because our shoulders were taxed differently as between the canoe and the packs. We felt good after the portages into Moose Lake. Once on the lake we all stopped to hydrate and consume some food. I was starting to get frustrated with the Perpetuem. My body was no longer liking it and I switched to just water. This is where BeaV cut open a vein, explained his plan and sought buy-in from the crew. Tepid response at best. My interpretation was that folks were eating and did not feel the need to interrupt a chew with a verbal acknowledgment. All of us had put in substantial effort to this point in the trip and while the end was nearing, it was still some distance off.

I didn’t know if I could finish without stopping to rest or eat, but I want to try. By my way of thinking, if we keep pushing then we will be that much closer to the end. If at some point we had consensus that it was time to stop and rest, we would. If we decided to keep going, then no time was lost. But if we stop and rest now, then we will never get the time back and never know what we “could have done”. So, I stopped chewing long enough to say something profound like “who needs a nap” or something like that. I guess that was about as much enthusiasm from this group that BeaV was going to get. Nuph said. We progress under duress. The pet shop boys will have to weigh in on this but while not totally spent at this point, they may have been at the middle of the beginning of the end of their energy. WW was also probably looking forward to food and rest at some point, but he didn’t lobby too hard (more on that in a bit). Deke was the cool cucumber he always is…just another walk in the park for him. It was also here that BeaV may have lied. He promised everyone a rest and hot food at some point. WW did not catch on to this lie until it was too late. Only BeaV and his maker know if he really intended to fulfill that promise or if it was just motivational B.S. I hope he has done something good in his life because St. Peter ain’t gonna be happy about this one.

As the day wore on, I remember the pet shop boys’ kind of thinking they were too cool for school. They pretty much gave off the air that they were the fastest boat going. We were making our way across North Fowl and all was going well. We cross over into South Fowl and there they came. The pet shop boys, all in sync, looking all cool and shit pull up and are about to pass us. Without a word, Deke, WW and I put the paddles in deep and off to the races we went. The entirety of South Fowl, neck and neck the entire way until we hit the beach. Nice effort in the loss pet shop boys. I’m not sure if the spot tracked it properly, we may have been going to fast, but my internal speedometer had us cruising at about 9.5 mph.

As we heaved for air on the beach taking in lots of water and consuming rations, it never occurred to me (us) that we may have just reached the peak of enjoyment on this trip and it could be all down hill from here. Nor did it occur to me that the great expenditure of energy was akin to FUBAR. Hmmm…maybe next time just paddle like a sane person, conserve your energy and don’t drink 50% of your remaining water when you have the Fowl Portage, the Pigeon River, and the GP ahead of you!

Deke took the canoe for the fowl portage because he missed out on that opportunity last year. He took off, I followed. The name of that portage is correct. Lots of downed trees and big mud holes at the end. I made it cleanly through without getting my feet wet until the very last mudhole near the 90 degree. Oh well. BeaV has great video of Esteban and MP coming down the end of the portage. Deke and I put into the Pigeon and it was quite a while before anyone caught up to us. The day was getting on so if we were going to go the distance, it would be in the dark. BeaV promised multiple times during the trip that the water level in the Pigeon would be so high we would essentially float down to Ft. Charlette. No getting in, no getting out, no wet feet, just a nice easy float down the Pigeon over the English Rapids and whatever else may come our way. “Sit back and enjoy the scenery boys” is what he said.

Well based on that I don’t bother to take my boots off. Nor does Deke. WW has his duckies on. Good move WW. We don’t get two feet into the first set of rapids and BOOM. Canoe on rock. We push off and ten feet later BOOM. Canoe on a different rock. We get off and twenty feet later BOOM. Get the point? WW gets out multiple times, because he has his duckies on and gets us unstuck. Deke and I sit patiently for it all to be over. WW is not happy with BeaV. I cannot repeat the things he was saying. Not pretty.

At some point, WW has had enough of our laziness and mumbles something under his breath. I think it was, Jim is a great guy, but that Deke is lazy. Or something like that. I’m not entirely sure as it was dark and noisy. It seems plausible though. In any event, WW was right. We had taken advantage of his good graces. But in our defense, BeaV lied, so we will stick with that defense for now.

We are completely in the dark now, WW has us going down the Pigeon backwards (true), the pet shop boys swamped their canoe with MP lodged underneath. Complete shit show. It is an unmistakable sound when a canoe swamps. Not a pleasant sound at all. Everyone is yelling at anyone about everything. Packs are in the water, emotions high, anger at BeaV even higher, anger at the Pigeon is turned up to 11. It was a mess and it could have been the end of the trip, but a few things happened in near immediate succession that saved us from ourselves. MP was quickly brought above water by Esteban, BeaV and MAKK saved the two packs dislodged from the capsized boat, a couple of us witness the WRH’s chiding each other and Deke comments on the folly of it all.

The unflappable WRH’s showed a chink in their armor and that startled me. Not to be scared but rather to realize it was not an easy travers for them either. We figuratively were in the same boat. I took it as refreshing and somewhat of a positive sighting. Knowing the pets shop boys were safe lowered the adrenalin quite a few notches. Although the river was not deep (waist height) the water was moving fast and anyone of them could have been swept into a widow maker, hit a rock etc. They were in a bad way and knowing that they were only wet and cold was a good thing.

Once gathered we traversed the rest of the Pigeon. Along the way, I keenly remember: -A Swan flew into a tree and that made Deke cry. The swan lived. -BeaV broke his boat because MAKK can’t see rocks under water in the dead of night. Optometrist much? -We see a camper on the banks of the river…odd place to camp. He yelled at us to make sure we knew he was not in the race. Ok, whatever.

We make it to Partridge Falls portage. It had rained a good portion of the day and that portage was a mess. It’s not long but it was slick clay with impossible footing. I don’t recall specifically but it feels like me and Deke may have double portaged that for some reason. I think we were helping the pet shop boys with some gear…don’t recall. Esteban, MP and McPipes are cold and wet for sure. They are not in a good way. I quietly suggest to BeaV that maybe now is a good time to get hot food into them. I may not have spoken loud enough. I presume he did not hear me for we soldered forth to Ft. Charlette. I am now starting to get cold and put on my rain jacket and hat to help stay warm. I was dry and could only wonder how cold the wet guys were. I think everyone was keeping an eye on them to make sure they stayed alert etc. Every now and then I would ask a question of them testing their alertness. Our boat was the last to leave Partridge Falls. Deke and I did that on purpose to make sure the pet shop boys got to Ft. Charlette. If they needed assistance, we would have been right behind them and able to assist. They did just fine.

The wood-timber landing at Ft. Charlette was covered with exposed rebar. The dock had been torn apart and what was there was slick as ice. It presented some challenges.

We get to the campsite, reorganize packs, dry our feet, eat some snacks, drink some water and get ready to do the GP. I tossed Esteban some dry socks. Not a lot was said. A lot had happened since we left the fowl portage earlier that day. Some good, some fun, some very bad. Nobody was in the mood to chit chat. In hindsight, the race across South Fowl may not have been the best idea. It was fun though.

There was some horse-trading as to what was going in whose pack. Again, diplomacy prevailed.

My stomach was not well at this point. All the Perpetuem over the past 3 days had taken its toll. My body said enough. I fought nausea the entire GP. WW hits the trail, Deke, MAKK and I follow and am not sure what order the rest were in. Everyone is on their own pace, which is normal. Deke, MAKK and I are out front for a while. I am fuzzy on what happened when, but I know these things happened. We pass MAKK, she passes us. BeaV catches up to Deke and me to let us know that those behind us are in tough shape and he is going back to help. Deke and I get to some road (cowboy), I don’t know. It’s a f’ing road is all I remember. We drop our gear and Deke and I discuss going back to help. Deke makes the decision that he will go back, and that I will keep going. All the stuff needs to get to the end anyway. I met up with MAKK again. She claims I was talking to the moon. Seems plausible. MAKK gets stuck in a downed tree she used as a chair. I think I help her out or maybe I just laughed. At some point I stop for a moment to chat with MAKK. She moves on down the GP. After a bit I take off and keep walking and walking and walking. MAKK and I had agreed to meet at the next intersection. 61 maybe? I got there and she was nowhere to be found. Only two options, she either kept going or fell off a cliff. I noticed the florescent plants along side the portage. Interesting. I hear noises. Rotate my paddle so I am ready for battle with the bull moose that is sure to come at me. I am convinced something is following me in the woods. Is it MAKK or the moose? I keep walking. At some point, I turn around. I am thoroughly confused as to where I was at…did I make a wrong turn etc. Nothing looks familiar. Did MAKK fall off a cliff or is she at the end? I did not want to drop my pack because I did not know where I was, so I turned around and walked and walked and walked back until I met up with Deke and MAKK. Apparently, I passed MAKK and never knew it. As I later learned when we walked in together, I was within few hundred feet from the highway that runs next to the Fort at Grand Portage when I turned around. Stupid, stupid, stupid. When I met up with Deke and MAKK, discussions ensued. I learned stuff – interesting stuff. I was out of water and Deke needed some. He really needed some. Note to self: water and food is important for the GP. Bring enough next time or stay next to whoever has the filter. Over time, we all congregated at that location and I learned more stuff – more interesting stuff. We walked in together as a team.

The GP was difficult. It was wet, muddy, slippery, deceptive, cold, hot, uphill, and treacherous. It was as it should be. Our challenge was over. We did better than we set out to do but not as good as we could have. Or maybe we did do as good as we could have. I don’t know for sure, but I am one to always think there is more in the tank…more to give…always can do “better”. We had good weather but not perfect weather. We had good winds, but we have had better. We had tough winds for a bit but not all day. There are too many variables to know for sure. Did we leave any meat on the bone?

In hindsight, I think the race across South Fowl was ill-advised. Had we not done that, would we have had better stamina for the GP and maybe done it in 5 hours and not 8? I think so but who knows for sure. Had we not raced on South Fowl would the pet shop boys recovered quicker from the capsizing? I don’t know. Could we have done it in 92 hours? I think so but who knows for sure. That is why it’s a challenge.

What I do know for sure is that I tried. The entire crew tried and tried hard. We, as a team, tried really hard to the very end. The GP did not break us, BeaV did not break us, the WKC did not break us. One observation though is that after 48 lakes and rivers, 43.5 portages, 235 miles, one stint of 40 hours without sleep and another of 30, at some point during the GP I lost my edge. My ability to garner the mental stamina to deal with what was in front/behind me had left. And I could not get it back. Fate was whispering to the warrior with no response.

What I also know for sure is that we did well. And well in this instance was good enough. It was good enough to show anyone who cares to know that 8 people (these 8 friends) can go from Sha Sha to GP in 94.55 hours and that this 8 could do it in 92 if it wanted to. Or, if we had not raced across South Fowl. It was good enough to relearn a life lesson; that teamwork is important. It was good enough to make me want to do it again and again. It was definitely good enough. I had fun.