I finished the portage after 57 minutes, in complete darkness. I set out onto the narrow and long Rove Lake by using the dark shoreline to guide me along. As long as I kept a bit of bright night sky reflected on the water ahead of me, I knew I was continuing up the lake in the right direction. At one point, I did hit a rocky point. When that happened, it was very sudden and I ran onto some rocks hard, here. I was also getting blown along by the wind. Sometimes, I was getting spun this way and that by a wind that didn’t want to die down, which it normally should, at night. The wind was so strong on this small narrow lake, that I feared what the upcoming Mountain Lake would be like in these conditions. The only time I crossed Mountain Lake, it was windy, and things got dicey at the eastern end. These conditions seemed to be the same, but dark, and I didn’t want to end up capsizing at night on such a large body of water. (or capsize on any body of water, really). It was 10pm and on the Watap Portage, I decided to find a spot to pitch a tent for 4 or 5 hours. Portages are not a recommended place to sleep, but I didn’t want to have a disaster on the windy Mountain Lake, so I looked long and hard for somewhere to crash for the night. The only possibilities were at the end of the portage, and at that location, the wind didn’t seem strong at all. After deliberating with myself for way too long, I decided to venture out onto Mountain Lake. Maybe the first campsite would be available, I told myself.

Well, it wasn’t. I saw aluminum canoes there and continued on. The sky was illuminated in the east by what I think was the large city of Thunder Bay. The visibility was not good, but I didn't hit any overhanging trees or rocks, so it was adequate. I hugged the south shore, and the wind blew me right along quickly. A few times it got rowdy, and I stayed within 15 feet of shore in case of disaster. I had my headlamp on during this stretch so I wouldn’t miss potential campsites, and did come very close to hitting some partially submerged logs and things. At one point, I saw a reflection ahead and saw it was a canoe with reflectors on it. I would later learn that it was Russ from our group. It seemed that he was not awake, so I continued on. I reached another campsite, and saw two paddleboards near shore with the welcoming reflector from our group hanging in a tree. I knew this must be the Baste’s and I would have stopped to camp with them if I saw them stirring. But after shining my headlamp at their site excessively and seeing no signs of life, I decided to let them sleep, too, and continued on. After this, I started to really get tossed around by the wind. I even pulled up to shore at one spot to look for a place to bushwack camp for the night. I found only one decent tent spot, but it had a huge overhanging widow maker over it, and with the current windy conditions, I didn’t want to get squished by a falling tree. So, I got in the canoe one last time, and found the next campsite to be available. It was 11:30 pm and I couldn’t fathom crossing the rest of Mountain Lake in that wind, so I made a hasty camp and went to sleep. 52 miles for the day.

I slept pretty well that night and got up at 4:20. I could still hear the wind blowing the trees when I awoke, and it was dark, so I took my time getting up and on the water. Of course after 40 minutes when I did, I was upset that I didn’t get out there earlier. Oh well. I could see the portage at the eastern end of the lake, and I could see a headlamp there! I assumed it was Russ who I spotted the night before, and I set myself on catching up to him. In this stretch I had a funny occurrence. I picked up the canoe on one of the portages, and at this time, the canoe was getting so heavy, but this time, the canoe was extra heavy, and I got it up onto my shoulders and thought, whew, my arms must be dying because I could hardly get this canoe up anymore! Well, after I walked 50 yards up the portage I noticed something felt weird. I reached towards my back and realized that I wasn’t wearing my pack. I had lifted the canoe without donning my pack, and had dumped it into the lake and walked away without it!! Ha, I was really losing it, I thought. I ran back and grabbed my pack out of the water and forged ahead.

Two or three portages later I got onto Moose Lake and still don’t think I made any ground on the canoe ahead of me. In the light, I could see it clearly now, but seemed to be traveling at the same speed. After the following portage however, I caught a closer glimpse of the boat, closer than before, and I could see that it was a tandem! Who the heck was it? I figured it must be Isaac and Ambrose. They are a pair of Challengers who started at Crane Lake. I set my sights on catching them. I crossed North Fowl Lake into a stiff headwind without making ground, but on South Fowl I finally closed the gap a bit. Then, I saw them turn broadside a couple of times, and I figured they must be stopping to eat and drink before hitting the Pigeon River. I was doing the same. I took a few breaks to eat and drink along South Fowl Lake, too, knowing that I had a 1.25 mile portage coming up. As I neared the beach where the portage begins, I was surprised to see it was Kendra and Beav! They said Meat Puppet and PRDave were up ahead. They embarked on the portage, and a couple minutes later, I followed behind.

This portage was called foul, instead of fowl, and I did have to step over countless logs, but it wasn’t that bad. A dry month helped make this portage much easier, I think. I hit the river just as the other two canoes were pulling away. After drinking and eating another snack, I hit the water as well. I had to paddle hard to catch the canoes ahead of me just as we arrived at the first series of rapids. We were jumping in and out of the canoes repeatedly due to the shallow rapids. Kendra asked Beav to describe the river level, and he said “it was an average level for this time of year.” I’d hate to see it any lower. My canoe was getting abused by all of the rocks. We hit the English Rapids section and I snuck ahead of the two canoes. They said they were going to camp at Fort Charlotte, and I was determined to finish that day. As we neared the end, I could see that they were taking a little more care than I was to protect their boats, so I bid them farewell and put more effort behind my strokes to get ahead of them. I pushed hard and after a mile or so I couldn’t see them behind me anymore.

I focused on paddling strongly, even though I was ready to be finished. I was getting dehydrated and under nourished, but I didn’t stop. After I found the portage around Partridge Falls I got lost for a minute, and then figured out the right way to go. After getting on the water, I tried hard to fill my stomach with water. Sucking through my filter, I got about a liter down. I figured the Grand Portage would be easy, and take about 3 hours. No need to over hydrate for that, I thought. I came to the take out for Fort Charlotte and ate a bunch of beef sticks and tried to drink more water.

I was quickly ready to embark on the 9 mile Grand Portage. I began walking and felt like I was moving well. I needed a break after .8 miles, and then continued for another .9 miles. I think I was on my third break after the beaver pond when I looked at my watch. I realized that it had taken me 1 hour and 14 minutes to travel 2.4 miles! I was upset! How could I be moving so slow, I felt like I was doing about 3 miles per hour, not 2. I got discouraged thinking about another 7 miles ahead of me. What if I ran out of daylight? My wife was coming up to meet me, and I wanted to see her, and not have to keep her waiting all evening. I continued on, and my efforts brought me about ½ to ? of a mile between rests. I was also taking very long breaks when I did stop. It was taking forever. I felt like I would never get to the end. I knew that Lori would be at the end waiting for me, and I felt bad, thinking that she and anyone with her would be sitting for hours by the fort. I thought they’d be getting mad at me. I made pretty good time during the previous 230 miles, so I thought they would be anxious for my arrival and out of patience at my snail portage pace.

I turned on my phone at the Cowboy Rd and to my relief I began getting text messages. I messaged ahead that I was nearing Old Hwy 61, and my parents texted that my wife was there and going to walk up to meet me. I suspected that she was really at Hwy 61, and not Old Hwy 61 and I was right. As I reached Old Hwy 61, I again took a long break. Laying on the ground. I was really sleepy. I wanted to sleep. Even while carrying my gear, I wanted to close my eyes in this section. I thought that maybe something was wrong with me. I crossed the creek where the bridge was missing, and went up a long set of stairs. After that, I finally heard my wife call out to me from ahead. We did not hug, because I was too sweaty. I was not offended by that, and we took a break together. I thought about the Voyageurs carrying 90 or 180 pounds of gear over this portage. I got mad, wondering why they didn’t build a railroad, or at least bring in mules or something. Now I had to carry my gear because they had to carry theirs. How dumb. Out east they built canals to conquer these kinds of challenges. What was the problem with these Voyageurs? Were they stupid?

Being with my wife really lifted my spirits though, and I was able to make much longer pulls between breaks with her there. I did take a long break at the real Hwy 61. It was now over 4 hours since beginning the portage. When I reloaded myself with my gear, I resolved to make it the rest of the way to the Fort in one last push. I knew it was a mile or less, and that I could do it. As soon as I got going, I saw two people coming up the trail to encourage me. It was Marcy and Doug. They followed behind me and we chatted as I trudged onwards. I had to do a slight detour at the end, due to road construction and we came out to a spot where Lori was waiting with a camera. She and the others took a few photos of me by a Grand Portage sign, and I continued on.

Not wanting to set my gear down until I was finished, I was now walking pretty swiftly (at least I think I was), and I walked right past the fort and down to the beach at Lake Superior. They wanted me to pose for pictures at the closed fort entrance, but since it was closed, I just wanted to get to the lake and get this heavy gear off my shoulders. So, I scooted past them (I hope I wasn’t being rude), and trotted down to Lake Superior. I put my canoe in the water and my pack on board and got in the canoe for one last time on the water of Lake Superior.

I had made it. I was so happy to be done. My goal for this event was 5 days, and I had done just that, finishing on the evening of the 5th day. I was very happy, and Kevin, Doug, Marcy, Lori, and my wife were there to pepper me with questions and congratulate me. I covered 35 miles on the last day.

I was so glad that Beav and Lori had made all these pleas over the last few years for people to join the Challenge. I found it to be just as fulfilling as they promised. I was interested in this challenge for 4 years, and finally made it happen. I hope to return next year, and my son has been talking about joining me next time. So, I hope to see all of the old challengers again, the and the new ones in 2025.