The day dawned rain-free & a little warmer. We were on the move into Winchell - what a spectacular lake. The cliffs were absolutely stunning, as was the crystal-clear water. We stopped at a campsite to refresh our water supply, a place I'd like to stay some time with its own little bay & a view of those great cliffs. We pushed on & witnessed some of the burn from what I later learned to be the Red Eye Lake Fire from 2006. Black boles of trees marched up & over the spine on the south side of Winchell then jumped the lake to the north shore, having burned only a narrow path in the forest.

We saw no one else on Winchell. Considering the traffic on Omega, that seemed odd.

We pushed on towards Gaskin. Along the portage was a huge tree, burned from the inside out, fallen right into a grove of green, growing trees. How does that happen exactly? A small swath, right in the midst of the forest, burned, & nothing around it touched. Bizaree.

On to Gaskin, the first time in nine years that I've every crossed the same lake twice, paddling on to the portage into Horseshoe. We'd had magnificient fishing in Horsehoe years ago, & should have known better than to regale Kevin with the tales of burly walleye & football-shouldered smallies. We caught nothing. Nadda. The lake that served up one of my best BWCA fishing experiences had asked the fish to take the night off. So be it. To cap it off, some idiotic, extremely bored moron built a Blair-Witch type teepee-shaped thing, about twenty feet high, within sight of the privy.

Whoever you are, it worked. It creeped me out.