LIS Loop 2019 - Rivers and Storms
by Gichimon
Trip Type:
Paddling Canoe
Entry Date:
07/14/2019
Entry & Exit Point:
Little Indian Sioux River (north) (EP 14)
Number of Days:
12
Group Size:
2
Discuss Trip:
View Discussion Thread (12 messages)
Day 7 of 12
Saturday, July 20, 2019 When daylight broke over the horizon, we awoke to a spectacular Boundary Water's sunrise. We watched as the colors spilled into one another until the sun broke the horizon and disintegrated the pastel spell before us. It was time to get moving and get packed up. Following a duff day I'm always ready to start exploring again when move day rolls around.
Camp pack up was done with a relaxed purpose as we sipped coffee and ate breakfast. We wanted to make our way back to Lac LaCroix and visit the pictographs on Irving Island. With three portages to go and a big water paddle, we lily dipped on to our next destination arriving at the gorgeous portage to Finger Creek. The bluebird and cloud speckled skies made for an exceptionally serene paddle along Finger Creek to Pocket Lake.
When we arrived on Pocket Lake proper, a group of young Loons met us and heralded us across the lake. They had so many questions for us. Where you headed? What are those furry things in the canoe? Are you friend or foe? We sat for a good while and watched them preen and dance and dive and speak loudly to anyone who would listen. These are always some of my favorite moments.
We carried on through Pocket Lake, a quick portage into Pocket Creek, and up to Lac LaCroix. With the many islands and bays of the big lake challenging our progress forward, the map was consistently perched on my favorite fuzzy map holder.
As soon as we made it out of the narrows and into the border waters near Irving Island, the wind decided to play a game with us. It raged out of the north one moment, and then would die completely the next moment. The nearer we paddled to Irving Island, the more the wind raged. We were trying to get in close to the pictographs to get a good view, and the wind just pushed us right past the cliffs. We couldn't get the bows of our canoes to turn back into the wind so we just rode out the wind into a bay behind the island, and then we paddled back up the island in the head wind. It was a good decision because once we were under the weight of those overhanging cliffs, it was quiet as could be.
We waited for a group of camp kids, the first people we had seen in six days, to have their time at the pictographs. Then we slid up the island and were instantly overwhelmed by the historical significance of these images. So much history and humanity to come before us on these water trails. The weight of the responsibility of being a good steward for the land was made even more obvious by being able to observe these moments in time. There is so much beauty to preserve in the Boundary Waters. Telling stories about our time in these historical landscapes feels like participating in carrying on a tradition that began so long ago, with images of handprints, moose, and canoeists painted on a rock face.
With the wind not letting up, and after a paddling break along the pictographs, we headed across the windy chute and set off in search for a campsite. Once on the lee side of the wind, Krystal dropped a line into the water. It wasn't long before she had one nice sized walleye and a fat smallmouth on her stringer. Excited for a fish fry for supper, we paddled down to a terrific island site looking down into Boulder Bay. The day had grown hot and we were ready for some time at camp, and a dip into the clear waters.
After a quick set up of camp, we had a nice cool off session in the lake with the dogs. Krystal then had to clean the fish so she located a nice table rock on the shoreline and began the early stages of dinner prep. As she was cleaning the fish, a nice sized garter snake wend its way out of the rocks and hung out with Krystal as she expertly fileted those fish. The slithery little serpent flicked its tongue rapidly, tasting the delicious air before it. When Krystal was done, the snake slipped off into the rocks again and that's the last we saw of it.
Dinner was cooked over an open fire and it was delicious. We stayed up until the sun began to set and the mosquitos came for a visit. Then it was time to take shelter in the tent and dream about our move plans for tomorrow.
Camp pack up was done with a relaxed purpose as we sipped coffee and ate breakfast. We wanted to make our way back to Lac LaCroix and visit the pictographs on Irving Island. With three portages to go and a big water paddle, we lily dipped on to our next destination arriving at the gorgeous portage to Finger Creek. The bluebird and cloud speckled skies made for an exceptionally serene paddle along Finger Creek to Pocket Lake.
When we arrived on Pocket Lake proper, a group of young Loons met us and heralded us across the lake. They had so many questions for us. Where you headed? What are those furry things in the canoe? Are you friend or foe? We sat for a good while and watched them preen and dance and dive and speak loudly to anyone who would listen. These are always some of my favorite moments.
We carried on through Pocket Lake, a quick portage into Pocket Creek, and up to Lac LaCroix. With the many islands and bays of the big lake challenging our progress forward, the map was consistently perched on my favorite fuzzy map holder.
As soon as we made it out of the narrows and into the border waters near Irving Island, the wind decided to play a game with us. It raged out of the north one moment, and then would die completely the next moment. The nearer we paddled to Irving Island, the more the wind raged. We were trying to get in close to the pictographs to get a good view, and the wind just pushed us right past the cliffs. We couldn't get the bows of our canoes to turn back into the wind so we just rode out the wind into a bay behind the island, and then we paddled back up the island in the head wind. It was a good decision because once we were under the weight of those overhanging cliffs, it was quiet as could be.
We waited for a group of camp kids, the first people we had seen in six days, to have their time at the pictographs. Then we slid up the island and were instantly overwhelmed by the historical significance of these images. So much history and humanity to come before us on these water trails. The weight of the responsibility of being a good steward for the land was made even more obvious by being able to observe these moments in time. There is so much beauty to preserve in the Boundary Waters. Telling stories about our time in these historical landscapes feels like participating in carrying on a tradition that began so long ago, with images of handprints, moose, and canoeists painted on a rock face.
With the wind not letting up, and after a paddling break along the pictographs, we headed across the windy chute and set off in search for a campsite. Once on the lee side of the wind, Krystal dropped a line into the water. It wasn't long before she had one nice sized walleye and a fat smallmouth on her stringer. Excited for a fish fry for supper, we paddled down to a terrific island site looking down into Boulder Bay. The day had grown hot and we were ready for some time at camp, and a dip into the clear waters.
After a quick set up of camp, we had a nice cool off session in the lake with the dogs. Krystal then had to clean the fish so she located a nice table rock on the shoreline and began the early stages of dinner prep. As she was cleaning the fish, a nice sized garter snake wend its way out of the rocks and hung out with Krystal as she expertly fileted those fish. The slithery little serpent flicked its tongue rapidly, tasting the delicious air before it. When Krystal was done, the snake slipped off into the rocks again and that's the last we saw of it.
Dinner was cooked over an open fire and it was delicious. We stayed up until the sun began to set and the mosquitos came for a visit. Then it was time to take shelter in the tent and dream about our move plans for tomorrow.
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