It’s hard to put into words, but something happens around day 4 of a wilderness trip that is one of the main reasons I keep coming back to the BWCA. The lack of distractions and worries allows you to come into your own, whole heartedly. I can feel my soul returning to my body as if the monotony of day to day life has pushed it off to the side and left it as an afterthought. This is who you are, this is all you need to be, you’re alive and that's all that really matters. Back to Earth…

We took our time eating breakfast, there was no rush since we weren’t traveling on this day. It was a beautiful day, scattered clouds but mostly blue skies, mid 70’s and a nice breeze blowing from the southeast into the bay where our campsite was located. I rigged up the rods, one for trolling with a cleo, one for casting with a spinner. We set out for the day with our eyes set on that lovely sandy beach we had seen the day before. Nothing quite like taking over an island in the BWCA and claiming it as your own for the day.

As we paddled up to the island I noticed something incredible, there was a rainbow in a perfect ring surrounding the Sun. A friend had shown us a picture of this phenomenon before, but we couldn’t recall what this type of cloud formation was called. Some research after the fact revealed them to be known as cirrus clouds, and the rainbow “halo” is formed due to the Sun's light refracting off millions of tiny ice crystals present in the thin veil of clouds. A true sight to behold, and it was gone almost as quickly as it came.

We landed right on the sandy beach and laid claim to this island as our own private getaway for the day. There were a few people landing at the portage nearby, but this little corner of the lake stayed mostly quiet for the day. Exactly what we were looking for, solitude is one of the main goals for our wilderness trips. The next few hours were spent swimming, soaking up the sun and eating lunch on our island.

We departed around 2pm and gathered firewood off the shoreline nearby, a little tip I had picked up from one of the Friends of the BWCA videos on youtube. The sun bleached wood washed up on shore is perfect for a fire. Good size, bone dry, easy to chop, all piled up in one neat spot to gather. Let the beavers do the dirty work for you.

It was do or die time fishing wise. Lake Trout tacos was one of the main goals of the trip, and we had tortillas and rice packets waiting back at camp that I didn’t want in my pack on the way out tomorrow. All of the trolling up to this point I had done with the rod precariously wedged in between my legs, instructing Mimi that she didn’t need to paddle, as paddling too hard would blow the lure right past any fish. It dawned on me that Mimi had a perfectly good set of hands in the front of the boat. Holding the rod up front was a good way to keep us both involved, and ensured my St. Croix didn’t end up at the bottom of the lake. I slowly zig-zagged the boat across the deepest parts of the lake, occasionally instructing Mimi to drop or raise the lure a couple feet. As we pulled to within 30 feet of camp. I told her to begin reeling the line in but to stay alert, as a fish could still hit while she was reeling. Right as the lure came in to view along the side of the boat, FLASH... FISH ON! Mimi kept tension on the rod and pulled it up to the boat like a seasoned expert. It took off one time and spooled out drag with that signature hiss that will get any fisherman’s (or in this case, fisherwoman’s) blood pumping. She reeled it in one more time up to my side and I pulled it into the boat, being extra careful not to lose it as we were without a net. I was grinning from ear to ear, as I hastily tried to string this beauty of a Lake Trout up. The chaos wasn’t over though, and there was some extra pressure to get her strung up quickly. In the frenzy of the moment, I had let my paddle slip off the boat into the water. By the time I had the fish strung up and back in the water, the paddle was out of view. We slowly made our way back towards camp and Mimi spotted it within a minute or so. Thank goodness, our journey out would have been miserable with only one paddle.

Finally able to take a breath, we landed back at camp and admired the beautiful fish that Mimi had caught for our dinner that evening. For it to happen in that way, right next to the boat, her first fish of the trip, a freaking LAKE TROUT! It was way cooler than if I had hooked the fish myself. Could this day get any better?

I began the task of fileting the fish, it was my first time with a trout but it went pretty well. They are surprisingly not very slimy or smelly like Pike, Bass or Panfish. I see why it's such a sought after species. The second filet was a thing of beauty, the pinkish-orange shrimp fed flesh glistening in the sunlight. I tried to separate the flesh from the skin, but had a little trouble and ended up just scaling it. The trout was breaded with Shore Lunch’s cornmeal flavor, which stuck much better than any other flavor I’ve used in the past, sans egg. It was pan fried over the fire with some vegetable oil, and served in a warm tortilla with Mexican style rice and cholula. It was around 6:30pm and we were playing with house money now, it was all gravy. Our evening plans included some tea and a paddle out on the water to catch the sunset.

We landed back at camp just as it was getting dark. Unfortunately for Josie, she was a little slow on the dismount and fell into the water as her momentum pushed the boat away from shore. Poor thing was soaked and shivering right as it got cold and dark. She ran off to hide in the pine tree that had become her favorite spot to hang out, my best guess is because it offered some respite from the biting flies. I dried her off with her towel, one of the few items we brought exclusively for her, and got the fire going asap. She was shivering and the mosquitos were starting to come out so I wrapped her in my rain jacket and pulled my bug net over her head. No qualms from her, she knows by now that Mama and Papa have her best interest in heart. We cuddled by the fire for a while but she continued to shiver, so it was off to the tent to warm up in Papa’s sleeping bag.

With Josie all settled, I rejoined Mimi by the fire. Right about this time, the wolves began their symphony. It was a call and response from opposite directions. One, your classic howl at the moon call, and the other, a response of short, quick, high pitched articulations. What struck me as truly fascinating though, was that a group of birds (loons?) chimed in right as the wolves began both times. Adding their own call to the mix. Is this some sort of evolutionary phenomenon? A warning that there are wolves nearby? Or, do they just hear beautiful sounds and decide to chime in with their own sound, not to be outdone. Either way it was stunning, and the reason you want to keep awfully quiet at nighttime in the BWCA.

With the fire rightfully reduced to ash, we retired to the tent to spend another night sleeping peacefully under the stars. Our perfect day had come to an end. Tomorrow, it was time to pack up and make our way out of the Wilderness.