Day 2- 6:30 am found me back on the water with a wall of fog to contend with. Fog can be worse than darkness to navigate through, but I used my compass and map successfully. As I gripped the paddle, my hands hurt from the hotspots and blisters earned over those first 20 hours of paddling yesterday. This intense pain is normal after taking a break from paddling and it takes about 30 minutes before this subsides. A thought occurred to me…. if I don’t rest again, I won’t have to deal with this. Note to self.

The fog lifts now as I paddle south along the Basswood River and the sun on day 2 shines bright. Across Basswood Lake, Prairie Portage, and into Birch Lake. Mid-morning hits just as I get into the well-traveled series of five portages that lead to Knife Lake. Perfect (terrible) timing as each portage is choked with large groups of novice canoers lollygagging around. I don’t hesitate, I just land, shoulder my two packs, throw the canoe up and go. They broke with the proper portage etiquette first, but at least I say “sorry, I’m in a hurry” and leave it at that.

Once again, the winds are not helpful, mostly on my bow or broadside but not too strong. Throughout the long day I ponder what my plan should be for the upcoming second night. As I approach Saganaga Lake, I now know darkness will fall while on this lake. My immediate concern is to hit the little opening at the mid lake islands before dark. I do it and now the difficult Granite River stretch is next. All the pros and cons of continuing on verses resting awhile are considered and my stubborn side says “just keep paddling”! So I do.

Temperatures quickly drop as I approach Saganaga Falls. The cold air becomes moist from the warm surface water and forms a low-lying layer of fog. I turn on my headlight to look for the entrance to a small bay where the portage should be and am faced with a wall of fog so thick, I can hardly see the bow of my canoe. I nervously smile to myself about this new challenge, as if navigating the Granite River in the dark isn’t bad enough. I listen for the sound of the rapids, and I “feel” myself to it and the nearby start of the portage. Fifteen miles to go and twelve more portages to find before I get back to open lake paddling…oh boy! A partial moon was up but was fairly low on the horizon, helping some. The fog did not let up and the headlamp was nearly worthless. I tried to remember where to paddle to avoid hitting rocks and I tried to remember the necessary twists and turns of the route. Every portage found was a relief and the concentration needed to find them prevented me from feeling sleepy. A little after 1:00 am I emerged from the Granite River and onto Magnetic Lake with a sense of relief. I paddled past a campfire with people still up and was puzzled why anyone would be up at this hour. Out on to the 7-mile-long Gunflint Lake, the inevitable sleepiness set in. I felt uneasy now and was concerned I would fall asleep paddling and capsize. For this reason, I took a longer route that kept me nearer to shore in case I woke up in the lake. A new fear struck me- don’t drop your paddle, it’s the only one you got. Gunflint was windy enough to blow me away from a dropped paddle faster than I could probably grab for it. This is not a fear that normally I consider, but now my arms and shoulders are tired, my hands are clumsy from blisters, and my head sluggish. Every paddle switch I carefully and slowly perform the handoff that I’ve done millions of times.

The moon had long since set and the night was dark, but the stars are brilliant, and the sky filled with them. I picked one low on the horizon generally towards the end of the lake and paddled to it. That star acted strangely at times, almost seeming to jump around, and having multiple lights on it. A drone? I thought to myself, “knock it off BeaV, don’t let your head get goofy again”. Goofy as in seeing things that may not be true, i.e... hallucinations. I paddled and paddled and paddled and couldn’t find the far shore. It seemed to be taking too long to find but I know I couldn’t miss it, right? Finally, I seemed to have found the wanted east shore… but where is the beautiful sand beach where the stream mouth is located that I need to enter. Trying the headlight again, to no good. Fog in my face. I look at the tree line barely visible and feel that I’m in the right place. Paddling slowly along the shore, my paddle blade touches bottom and I feel that grittiness of sand. SAND! I must be here. I run the bow onto shore and find THE beach!

This beach has always been a place to rest and stretch my legs in the past. I remember my last intense solo paddle in 2017….I rested here too late in the night. The wind that time was blowing hard onto the shore, I was wore out, damp, and cold. That time I laid on the ground using my canoe as a partial windbreak and tried to get some sleep under a tarp. It didn’t work- mostly due to black ants finding my body an amusing playground to crawl on. That time I was more in survival mode, this time I was refusing to feel that way just like I refused to allow hallucinations to mess with me. I WANTED to do better than I did in 2017, I wanted to keep moving, and I refused to even stretch my legs on this beautiful sand beach- I paddled on into the tiny creek and kept going. I felt satisfaction in refusing comfort and felt motivation to get ahead of my former self! Every mile gained before sunrise, now felt good.

I continued my new “navigation by feel method” as I paddled up this small weed-lined creek. When I strayed into weeds, I quickly paddled the other direction hoping to get back into the open channel. Back and forth I weaved my way towards Little Gunflint Lake. Flashlight still useless because of the fog. Water levels had been high through the Granite River so as I approached the next portage, I aimed for the small channel that connects Little Gunflint to Little North Lake and just pushed my way up the current, saving time.

My pre-Challenge goal, at this last 1/3 stage of the route, was to not get tired out. My moving speed in previous record attempts always slowed down near the end. I could potentially gain a lot of time from here to Grand Portage if I could keep up the pace. My paddling strength still felt good despite not eating much during this night (for some reason my stomach hurt when I tried to eat and my plan was to give my blast furnace a little rest) but I was starting to feel weakness and wobbly on the portages.