Thursday, July 25, 2019 As nature does, our departure day would hold some weather surprises for us. We packed up camp slowly and filled with the mild heartbreak you feel when a trip is coming to a close. The paddle out of Upper Pauness was a dream. The wind was picking up but not enough to slow us yet and we made it to the portage in a good time.
We revisited the rock that tried to end Krystal's voyage before it even began. Nice try, rock. Back in the canoes, we headed back on and up the river. It wasn't long before the wind started to scream, and I mean really scream. A wind tunnel had formed between our ears and we had to put our hoods up to quell the sounds. The weather grew chilly as the wind whipped, and the paddle upstream was taxing. The 30 mile an hour winds that had been predicted were delivered promptly and precisely on time. What we thought would take us not much longer than an hour or so, took us three hours to paddle. Two strokes forward, one stroke back. Three strokes forward, two strokes back. That was probably the hardest paddle either of us have ever done in a canoe. The rule was, keep your eye on the prize. A cheeseburger waited on us in Ely. We finally made it back to the entry point and kissed the ground. We finished the carry in portage to the Jeep and completed our regimen of loading the gear, the canoes, and then changed into some fresh clothes. I would have gladly headed right back out on another trip but a cheeseburger was waiting on the other side of the wilderness, and we also had to heed that call. You know how it goes.