I have been going to Quetico for 30 years and during that time I have a lot of awful experiences and close calls. I thought it might be fun to share our worst Quetico experiences I will start the ball rolling.

I had to think long & hard about which one was the worst-like holding a tent pole for 48 hours while the lakes went up 18 inches, like dumping the canoe and crashing into the rocks on Bachewang, like portaging over a pennisula and end up going backwards, having no toilet paper, having no stove, hurting my body so I was worried about getting out. Well they were not the worst.

My worst experince was on one of the portages between Badwater and Fairs lakes. I was following the path when the water started rising until it was up to my chest. I suspect a beaver was the culpret. So I decided to walk out from the path, then go parallel to the path and then cut back in after the water subsided. Well it didn't work. I was lost.

That was not a problem because I had a compass around my neck--- except for that day. So I started walking back toward Badwater but I eended up on Fair. I am carrying a heavy pack because it is early in my trip and I had a paddle & a fishing rod in my hands. I didn't dare put anything down because I mighjt never find it again. Since it was overcast I had to rely on my sense of direction- which turned out to be awful.

For the next three hours I walked toward Badwater and two times ended up back at Fair- so walking in a circle is easy. My language continued
to degrade, my lonliness approached paranoia and my pack kept getting heavier. I nearly decided to sacrifice my fishing rod but I just couldn't do it. Finally the sun peaked out and I could see my shadow which allowed me to find Badwater- tired, shaken & thankful. From that day til this I staple my compass to my chest.

Well that's my story & I sure all you have your own which I hope you will share.

So, I'm a little confused. I ussually stop portaging when I reach the water... Just kidding. but why did you have to portage around the water, was this pool of water in the middle of your portage?

My worst Quetico experiance was last year. It was the first year that my Dad and I didn't go on a trip to Quetico...

My worst experiance in Quetico, was on the second to last day of a trip. After a long day of traveling, we found a very crappy campsite. Very small, very buggy, etc. Everyone was tired so the group stayed at that campsite and 'saved' it while my I went ahead and checked the next campsite a mile up the shore. I got to the next campsite and found it to be a great campsite. I radioed back to everyone else and told them to come on up to this much nicer campsite. They radioed back and told me that 2 of the group had decided they were tired and had set up their tent and were not moving. Needless to say I was rather livid that I was sent all that way for no reason, and on top of that I had to camp in a crappy site, knowing that down the shore there was a much better site just up the shore.

Otherwise we have dealt with a seperated shoulder, lots of rain, being lost (had our compass tho) and all the regular stuff, I view this kind of stuff as part of the trip and know that it might happen so it doesn't really bother me. I much prefer Quetico with rain to work with sunshine...

jddl, I'd say that your experience would be hard to top. Anxiety compounding itself while lost, and for three hours no less, is not a good thing. Can't imagine the sense of relief when you got yourself out.

Our worst experience was in 2008 when we had cold weather, wind, rain and bad fishing for almost the entire week. We wore our rain gear and multiple layers of warm clothes under our rain gear for all but about one afternoon.

I've posted this pic before, but here's an example:

I got one!! Picture a trip from Beaverhouse to Poohbah and back with my then 15-year old son. Fishing along the way to Poohbah was great, but Poohbah was like being sent to fishing heaven. We hit lots of sun and light winds that kept us on the lake for 4 full days (2 days longer than planned).

So, we had to hoof it back to Beaverhouse since I needed to be back in Ohio in 4 days. Of course, we fished on our way out of Poohbah which took a couple hours, and so after heading up the Malign, we finally made it to little Jean in the dark. Then, during the night, a strong west wind starts howling and continues to daylight. Here we are, in an Old Towne Camper battling large waves that periodically crash over the bow all the way across Jean and Quetico Lake. We reached the west end of Quetico by late-afternoon, but we were absolutely beat and didn't want to risk crossing Beaverhouse.

The next morning, we get up at dawn and head into Beaverhouse where the wind was still up and the waves were enormous. We hit the waves with breakers soaking my son and made it to the first island with a couple inches of water in the bottom of the canoe (this was quite scary as a couple times we hit the waves just wrong enough to cause the water to move and really unbalance the canoe as we approached the island). But, we made it, dumped out the water and then repeated the drill to the mid-lake islands. From there, we hugged the western shore and made it to our vehicle at noon. Drove and stayed at Black Bear near Duluth. And made it back to Ohio 14 hours later the next day.

A painful two days of paddling to finish an otherwise fantastic fishing trip. But we both learned some valuable lessons.

Wow! Good stories.

It sounds like we've all had some bad experiences. I've had plenty. And I mean real bad experiences. Before I post I should say I have vivid memories of doing the corduroy (sp) portage to bad water quite well. I walked it three times with gear because the women in our group refused to walk it more than once. But that's not my story.

Here's a brief explanation of my story. It wasn't funny then and I still don't think it's funny now. And it has mentally fucked me up about Quetico ever since.

I don't have a map right now so I can't be sure of lakes but that's not important.

My brother, myself and two friends set out of Nym Lake to head south into whatever chain of lakes is south of there. This was back in 92' We all drank a lot of booze back then. Bacardi 151 and that sort of stuff. On our second night we were all real drunk and my brother fell off an 8' ledge of rocks and tore his ACL. The next day he was so injured that we knew we had to get him out. After much debate we decided that I would paddle him out and go to Atikokan and my friends would stay in Quetico at the campsite..I spent a day paddling him back and we drove to a hospital. He walked the portages with home-made crutches made from birch.

At the hospital they said they could not do surgery right then for whatever reason. They gave him a bunch of pain pills until he felt OK and we drove back to the Enrty point. We paddled all the way back to our camp in Quetico and finished our trip. My brother was a zombie the whole time. It was awful.

I was in my early 20's and had not had good teachings of wilderness camping. For me it was booze and a party. I've learned a lot since then and will never put myself in a situation like that again. I think that's why I solo camp a lot now. This way I know everything will be OK.

Tom

Holy @#$%, Woodcanoe. That one hurts just thinking about it....going back in with an ACL after coming out?? Tiger Woods ain't got nothin' on your brother.
The only question I have is did you restock on the 151 before you went back in...to ease the pain...or was the party kinda over by then?

Wind, waves, cold, bugs, and crummy fishing have all had their impact on me and my trips.

The worst experience I had was this past spring. For the last day and a half we had been fighting cold wind and rain across Quetico. Our fishing was fair enough to put fish on the menu at most meals. We had not seen another soul in over 3 days but as we crossed into Jean we started seeing people (No biggie, I just prefer not seeing people).

As we are crossing Jean in a cold fog, we start picking up lake trout. My mind starts to wander about a hot lunch. I decided I’d surprise the guys with a laker chowder heavy on the butter (Ghee for us) to warm us up. We saw a nice looking campsite on some narrows and decided to pull in there to make our lunch. The water was clear and the beach landing was superb.

At first I noticed a couple noodles in the water at the beach. That’s no big deal. Then the wads of tangled up fishing line started appearing all around us as we unloaded the canoe. The fire grate was full of cans and half burnt food and plastic. Now I’m outraged… but wait… it gets better. The people who occupied the site didn’t bother with cat-holes or bother to walk out of camp. There was about a half dozen “deposits” around camp. At one pile in the tent area there wasn’t even toilet paper. It was almost stepped on as we were going to do our dishes.

Weather and Nature can play with me all it wants to out there and I’ll deal. But when another party affects my enjoyment… that’s a different story.

Who does that and where can I find them?

Hex

Here is my worst Quetico experience: 2008 on Agnes Lake. Second day of the trip. Here is the original post:

Ever been run out of a campsite?

Well I just was on my last trip to Quetico.

My wife and I were camped on Agnes near the base of Louisa Falls last week. We were enjoying a leisurely late breakfast and coffee when a large group landed at our camp. The leader looked to be 60 years old leading a group of youths. They landed their canoes right in the middle of our site. Then the leader came walking through our camp looking around. Never said “hi” or acknowledged us in any way. I start to think this is sorta weird behavior so I ask “can I help you guys” probably in a slightly irritated voice.

The leader yells back “we are going to do the portage”. I begin to inform him the actual portage to Louisa Lake is down a little ways and across the falls from this site but before I finish he yells back “ I know I’ve got 35 years of experience, we want to go to the falls.” I say “Oh you want to see the bathtub, the portage is a lot easier access but if you want to bushwhack to the bathtub through our camp go for it.” Once again he reminds me of his 35 years experience and tells me there is a large group at the portage blocking it. I am feeling a lot of attitude coming from this guy and not understanding why? He then gives my wife and I a speech on blocking portages and portage etiquite. Why? I don’t know? We are not at a portage and even if we were our canoe is hidden in the trees, but I put up with it and tell him have fun at the falls. Go back and sit with my wife at the fire area.

Just as I take my last swig of coffee I look over and see the leader giving orders to break out the stove for lunch. 9-12 guys (I am not sure of the real number as I was boiling by now) start piling out of their canoes. Then a couple of the kids get their shovels out to go duke at our camp site. My patience is gone. I walk over to the leader and say, “you gotta be kidding me? You are going to have lunch at our campsite?”. He then proceeds to inform me this is a lunch area not a campsite. “This is a busy area and you shouldn’t have camped here, sometimes this campsite has been shut down”---goes on to re-inform me of his 35 years of experience, “I have seen 2-3 groups have lunch here in the past”. I ask him “while someone is camped here?” He just put his head down then proceeded to give his same tired speech about blocking portages. Well he will not budge so I say, “well you are obviously going to do what you want and I cannot stop you but I think you are being rude!”

They are now cooking their lunch about 10-20 feet from our fire ring and wandering through my camp. We just decide to punt and break camp—this has become ridiculous. We were going to leave anyway but this drove us out quicker than what we wanted. Why the leader wanted to have lunch here I have no idea. All of the other sites were open around Louisa Falls and if he really has “35 years experience” he should have known there are multiple landings to visit Louisa Falls that my wife and I saw were open upon leaving our site. The portage is not blocked as he claims. My wife Sara offers one parting shot, “you know we were going to leave anyway but you drove us out sooner. If you would have just said Hi and asked to have lunch here we would have gladly shared this site, but you had to be rude and just force yourself on our site. This is the rudest behavior we have ever seen.” The teenagers looked embarrassed and the leader tries to tell us we are not at a camp site---My wife Sara loses it and says, “Do you not see the fireplace? Did you not see our tent? In Quetico anyplace can be a campsite, there is no such thing as a lunch site!” His reply “Nope!”.

As we paddle away I observe the group get into their canoes and paddle over to the portage. I cannot believe the rudeness of the leader, he never had any intention of using the “imaginary portage” to the falls at our site.

Okay I tell this story for a couple of reasons: One I am proud of myself for staying calm. 10 years ago I would have thrown this Moron into the lake---which would have been stupid considering I was outnumbered at least 9 to 1 (although evil thoughts entered my mind when I was packing away the bear spray :) and still wrong as 2 wrongs don't make a right . Second if this guy really has 35 years experience—this is not the first time or the last time he has done this to another group. If you encounter this behavior take down any info you can and report him to the Canadians. Enough bad reports and he will not be able to reserve permits anymore and be banned from Quetico. Right now it is my word vs. his word, so I was told at Prairie Portage it is on file and if they get anymore bad reports most likely the leader will be banned. If you don’t file an incident report this moron will go on bullying his way through the park.

Any other ideas on how to handle someone like this? I suspect if I was with a group of my buddies this never would have happened, but wiht just my wife and I, I felt like I had no other options than to leave. I cannot believe they actually enjoyed their lunch---everyone around except the leader seemed to think it was an awkward situation at the very least. One of the boys apologized after we left. It couldn't have been an enjoyable lunch for them?

I will add this 1 hour was the only negaive thing about our 1 week trip to Quetico :) It was still a great trip.

When I posted this story originally a few people tried to offer the guy maybe was diabetic. I have a medical background and have seen many people who have low blood glucose levels and in need of help. This guy wasn't one of them, this guy was not a diabetic he was just an a$$ hole. We were at "HIS SPOT"---he always has had lunch at this spot---so he decided it did not matter we were already there, by golly he was going to have lunch there.

T

Timatkn.

well that one just about takes the cake.

I have never had such an experience. I mentioned the Badwater portage in my post. Your story remind me of when I was camped on Badwater a group of boisterous young adults set up camp about 150' from us. It was horrible. I think I remember paddling over to them and giving them a hard time. God, all the bad times up there.

Anyway, I think you did the best you could under the circumstances. Consider yourself the better man by not elevating the situation to a point of violence. If I was with my wife I would have hoped to do what you did by leaving. I can assure you if I was with some of my friends it would have turned ugly.

I truly cannot believe this guy did this to you. It is so unrational. I suppose the younger guys with him learned a lot about wilderness etiquette that day. We go to the wilderness to escape the perils of man.

When I camp, I avoid people like the plague. I steer clear of camps and canoes and usually will not talk to people unless they say hi first. I try to stay as invisible as possible. Thanks for sharing your story.

I really like this thread. It's good to hear that we all, not just me, face challenges unexpected while in God's country.

As far as my story goes, I hate to say it but we actually did restock our booze supply when we were in Atikokan. I've never told this story until today. Looking back now I see how screwed up it was. I am in no way like the person I was.

i'm lucky in that i never had any problems with people,i did find a few camps over the years that were trashed.it's always the same,burned plastic and cans in the fire place,TP and piles scattered around and stringers of dead Lake Trout in the water.the only person i ever met who was not friendly was at the carry into Agnes Lake.that i was alone and not up for the fishing really seemed to put him off.the guy he was with had nothing to say but this guy was really fried.when i said i was going to fish he wanted to know where my gear was and when i said i keep it packed up until i finish the big carrys he did a "YA" and tossed a day bag into his canoe..i guess he had me down as one of those "tree huggers" that had worked to keep airplanes out of the park.
but the real story--i have told this before and i got the trip log out to get the dates right..Spring 2000 i was doing the reverse of the fall 99 trip.the Agnes,Kash,Joyce,Brent,Sarah,North Bay loop.so starting at North Bay i end up at Joyce by day 6 and the log said wind from NW with bad weather to the far SW.next day it's over the carry to Kash with a clear sky that turned to light drizzle at the unnamed lake halfway thru the carrys with far distant thunder.i push on and just before Kash i find the log walk that was dry the fall before is now floating in knee deep water,which i slip and go into.i have my rainsuit on by this time.at Kash i can see the camp on the hill is taken.so back for the food and then back for the canoe,which while carrying i get water down my arms and soak my shirt to the elbows.i see in the log book i had hail on one of the walk backs.
loaded up and with a big view of the lake i can see it's going to be a all day steady rain with wind from the north.any open camp is going to be in the wind if it's close by to the South of me so i go North to a place i call the "moss camp" in a dense Black Spruce glade.all the possible camp i pass are in the driving wind.halfway to the moss camp i can see i need a camp fast as i'm getting cold.in a small bay i know a camp on a hill top that i have seen in passing but never used.
i pull in and unload the gear bag which is floating in several inches of water.i do the hypothermia wanders.is this camp nice enough,not much fire wood? maybe i should move on?so i take the paddle and splash out some water from the boat--well maybe i should stay--wander around with the tent looking for just the right spot--then it hit me.i'm really cold and need shelter NOW..i unload the rest of the gear and tie off the canoe,get the tent up,get into warm dry poly fluffs and get into the bag.i did get a pot of water at some point and made tea in the tent,the log notes i also had candy,cheese and crackers.the last page for that day reads "warm in bag,reading by candle lamp.very good end to a nasty but wonderful day.big hike thru rainy woods,thunder,big heavy rain on fields of Lady Slippers,lots of detail in wet woods,misty views-hope for clearing tomorrow.

Wow, Timatkn, that was very good self control. I can't believe that guy was so rude. Even if he was diabetic, all he needed to do was politly ask, "Hey, I'm diabetic and need to eat soon to stay healthy, could I please have lunch here" and it would have been a completly differant situation. Being diabetic does not give you a licence to be rude. I do thinnk you are right tho, he always ate here, it was his lunch spot and he was not going to let you two take that away from him. I could only hope I would handle this as good as you did, but I'm not so sure I could of.

Mine is pretty simple-- and probably typical. Actually it was a BWCA trip, so I am not sure it belongs here, but here goes.

This was my first canoe trip ever, about 10 years ago. We were graduate students and didn't have much money, so we did not use a tow to get ourselves from the dock at Burntside Lake to the portage that heads to Crab lake and then Cummings Lake. It was a very grey day with heavy cloud cover and rain, and we knew which direction the portage was in, but we became disoriented and could not find it. We pulled out a map after already lost (and noone had a compass) and proceeded to get even more screwed up paddling through the islands there. Finally, we found the portage after basically returning to our starting point and redoing the whole thing. In all, we wasted 4 hours on Burntside, and our reward was doing a mile-long "portage from Hell" in the rain with packs that weren't loaded right and a general lack of a clue.

Frustrating, indeed. But, as with most things in life, a lesson was learned. Now, I am the "map guy" of our group and always have a compass on my person.

Bump. I saw this thread while doing research for my 2015 trip, and I thought it was pretty interesting to read and learn from others bad experiences. After 5 years maybe there are more bad experiences to share?

I’ve had the usual experiences… unusually cold and wet weather in August, dumping a canoe while fishing, falling on portages with steep wet rocks or in bogs carrying a canoe, camping without a working burner for a week, but a couple others stand out to me:

1) People have different methods of going to the bathroom in Quetico, but proper etiquette is always to dig a hole and cover it up as well as possible. Unfortunately for a member of my group, in 2010 on Badwater someone else didn't follow the proper etiquette, and when he leaned up against a tree and was ready to do his business, he looked down and saw his bare foot… in his sandal… covered in a pile of wet poo. So disgusting. He came back to camp and headed right down to the water to clean up, upset enough that he didn't want to talk about it until the next day.

2) A few years ago we were staying on the island site on Fern Lake, and a member of our group pointed out a slippery spot from the rain the night before on the rock point down towards the lake. About an hour later the same guy was carrying 2 rocks, one in each hand, down to the shore to use as an anchor in a vegetable sack. He hit that same slippery spot he called out earlier, and both his legs and the rocks he was carrying flew up into the air. He put his left hand down to catch his fall and one of the rocks landed directly on top of it. Immediately he shot up and started jumping up and down saying “please don’t be broken, please don’t be broken”. This was on day 3 of a 7 day trip. Luckily that day was a layover day, and he didn't have to paddle. It swelled up pretty bad and turned black and blue. He toughed it out and we stayed in the park, but he could only paddle on one side of the canoe the rest of the trip. The day after we returned he got it x-rayed, and it was indeed broken.

Wow, I was beginning to think this forum had died. (No posts since November 23?)

My worst experience was on my very first trip to the Q in 1997. Actually I had several bad experiences -- blown by a tailwind on Quetico Lake into a cove where I had to jump out then drag the canoe and my gear through the woods over a hill back to the main lake, having my canoe picked up by a wind and moved one night on Jean, paddling into a terrific headwind on Nym my last day, praying for deliverance -- but the worst was the bear on Batch Bay.

From my trip report: "I pitched the tent, cleaned up, made supper, hung the food and loafed away the evening thinking about tomorrow’s paddle to my Nym pickup until bedtime. Sometime after midnight, I awoke, sat up and the hair was standing up on the back of my neck. Without looking, I KNEW there was a bear in camp. Shining my flashlight up the tree where the 5-gallon bucket was hung, I saw a big bear 'working' the rope. It seemed to know what it was doing. Nothing I did – hollering, throwing rocks – had any effect, so I started getting dressed. When I went outside the tent again, the bear had the bucket down by the water and was tearing into it. More hollering and pot banging had no effect, so I tied the tent flaps open and went the opposite direction, to the canoe, and propped it so I could lie down under it out of the rain that had began to fall. I finished the night there. Day 9, Monday, July 2: To make a long story (and night) short, at daylight the rain had stopped, but it was very windy, and there was no sign of the bear. I retrieved the bucket, picked up some of the litter and brought it up to the fireplace. While I was packing up, the bear reappeared, boldly came up to the fireplace, reclaimed the bucket and made off with it! I finished packing up and got the gear down to the shore by the canoe."

Jim Clark at Canoe Canada later said "I told you not to camp there." (In fact, he had written "BEAR" on my map in that general area.) A couple years later I heard they had to dispose of this bear since it was habitually getting campers' food.

It was several years before I could sleep soundly all night in Quetico after this experience!
--Goose

Only had one "BAD" experience in the Quetico. Coming up the Basswood river in August and in the snow, our group "leader" decided that we would pull our canoes up the rapids approaching Basswood Lake instead of taking the time to portage. Almost killed a couple of us several times.

My brother slipped in front of the canoe and had the canoe pushed over him. It got worse when we got to Basswood Lake. 40 mph winds and 5-6 foot rollers going with us. Our "leader" decided we would all tie ourselves to the our canoes and "go for it". We literally surfed across Basswood in our canoes.

When in the trough, we all paddle and then catch the wave. When on top of the wave, the bow and stern were actually out of the water. We then slowly drop back into the trough with walls of water in front and behind the canoe. Scared the blank out of us. Then we somehow managed to come around US point and then had to go back into those same waves. We all said a thank you prayer when we made it to a camp site.

Of course once we set up camp, the winds stopped, sun came out and it was a beautiful afternoon.

June 1988
Our group of 6 was camped on the Olive jar site in Delahey. Five friends in our late 20's and my dad. Our plan was to move camp over to Veron and camp on the big island near the channel to Camel.

An easy day and we got a very late start. Four of us wanted to fish and take it slow and the other two decided to hurry over and set up camp on Veron and then fish there. For some reason they took the food pack and said they would leave it at the portage for the four of us to carry over when we got there.

The single canoe disappeared into the channels leading to Veron, and as the other two canoes trolled for Lake Trout, it began to rain. And then a hard cold rain settled in and fishing became unpleasant so we decided to head over to Veron too.

When we arrived at the portage we could not find the food pack anywhere. This was a little disconcerting but we assumed the earlier canoe decided to carry it over instead of leaving it out in the rain. We all got very wet portaging and by the time we paddled to the agreed upon site we were all wet and cold and my dad was clearly not functioning. To make matters worse the other canoe was not there and camp was not set up. We had one tent, most of our personal gear and the lunch pack. Since the only thing to do was make the best of the gear we had, get my dad into a sleeping bag, put up the tarp and build a fire, we did that as the rain and temperatures continued to fall.

About the time we got a small fire going, the other canoe arrived with two very wet, cold paddlers with no food pack. It turned out they had gotten lost in the channels in Delahey that lead to the portage and we had passed them without seeing them. They assumed we were still fishing when they finally got oriented and left the food pack on the Delahey side of the portage.

At this point, only two of us were functioning, the others all borderline hypothermic, so we got the four of them some warm soup and into the tents. Then Stan and I paddled back to get the food pack in the fading daylight and pouring rain. The only way to stay warm was to paddle super hard and shift my legs when they started to feel numb.

By the time we got the soaking wet pack back to Veron, it was dark. This was the scariest paddle ever. Exhausted, cold, wet and in total dark we paddled by headlamp and compass. At one point we hit a rock and the adrenaline from that scare warmed us up for a while. We did make it back to find everyone recovered and partying. I slept sounder that night than I ever will again.

On a positive note, the next day, every little creek running into Veron was a torrent and the walleyes were stacked up and in a feeding frenzy. But I will never forget that cold dark wet paddle through Veron.

This is not even close to the experience you had Primativeman but makes the same point. Our party of two boats got split up on Russell a couple of years ago while heading to Keats. We wasted 3-4 hours a LOTS of energy before reconnecting. I also have heard of other separations not getting together for a couple of days where one party had the food and the other the tents. We purposely divide food, shelter, clothing today as much as possible.

My worst experience was the year of my very first time to Badwater. We entered Beaverhouse about 10 AM after driving in from International Falls. I had 2 rookies with me and one other very seasoned paddler. One rookie severely twisted his ankle before we ever launched. He was not watching the stones in the trail from the parking lot to the put-in, and badly rolled his ankle. We nearly aborted the trip right there. But he said he could "gut it out" so we taped him up really well and proceeded - all of us knowing he would never carry a pack all week. We were more than willing to put out the extra effort portaging to allow the trip to continue.

We paddled across Beaverhouse and portaged into Quetico, then crossed the short sand "drag" into West Bay without much difficulty. We were all excited to be in such a beautiful place and the weather was warm, breezes soft and sky was glorious blue. As we paddled south through the narrows, we saw abundant weed beds and decided to fish a bit. Baaaaad idea. We started catching pike every cast on spinners and topwater. Before we knew it, it was getting much later than we wanted to admit. And the "portage from Hell" was still ahead.

When we arrived at the portage from Quetico into Badwater, it was almost 4PM. We told the "cripple" to take his time, use a crutch (that we had made) and we all would double portage while he simply walked through with no pack whatsoever.

Two of us in the lead surged ahead trying to make best possible time. We thought it was not too bad until we hit the first swamp. After 45 minutes we cleared that one (wet up to our arm pits), and remarked how this was truly a difficult portage. After a short rest we walked maybe 50 more yards and then was stunned to find a second swamp! We knew we were in a world of hurt now. Exhausted, not even through the first portage, getting very late and an injured paddler - all rookie mistakes that would take their toll.

We completed the first leg and walked back toward Quetico. It had been almost 90 minutes since we left. (Note: this was BEFORE the corduroy was added) We found the "cripple" setting on the rock outcrop between the two swamps - he was almost ready to "lose it" emotionally. It was his very first trip, he was badly hurt. He had no food or shelter, and it was getting dark fast. And he was absolutely convinced he was lost as no normal person would believe this was the "trail" to the next lake.

We got him settled down, had a snack for energy, and slogged, swam and cursed our way through the rest of the double portage. It was way past dark when we set up camp. We did not even eat - we just crashed into our sleeping bags and glad to be alive.

All ended well. We had a great trip, his ankle healed in a few weeks, and he even came back the next year!

We now leave the fishing poles in the carrier until we after we set up camp. And we are VERY grateful to those who cut the corduroy for the trail.

I am always humbled by the glorious beauty and savage harshness of the wilderness. John Wayne was right "Life is tough - and it's tougher if you're stupid."

Old Hoosier

First time back in here in a while, and wanted to give one piece of advice...

Some of these stories involved parties getting seperated. When we do Q trips, we ALWAYS carry two-way radios, at least one per boat. The ones we have are water-resistant (they can get wet, but won't survive at the bottom of a creek for long), and have a theoretical 30+ mile range. In practical use the range is less, but even at 10-15 miles that can be VERY helpful. I highly recommend having these GMRS radios (not the FRS kind with a 2-mile range that is really less than a mile usually).

If you want to get really fancy, a company (Garmin maybe) used to make a version of the Rino GMRS radios that were also GPS units, and you could even see the other Rino locations on your map when they transmitted or sent a heart beat.

More on topic, here we go. My two Q stories that stand out as disasters. Here is story one - The Man Who Gave Up...

Three of us, in college at the time and feeling invincible, decided to organize a relatively tough trip. We'd go from the Gunflint entrance (Seagull Lake area), up to MacKenzie (via Falls Chain) and back. We made a reservation for 4 guys, putting in the first Sunday of the season in mid-May.

We needed a 4th. None of the usual guys could make it, so we started just looking for a warm body. I found a friend - was in decent shape, said he'd done lots of camping stuff, had only paddled a canoe a few times though. Good enough, I thought.

Two guys took off from Chicago by car on Saturday early AM, picked up me and "Kent" (not his real name) in Ames, IA, and we drove north. Went overnight. As the sun was coming up on Sunday morning and we were an hour or so out from the put-in, it was snowing. Temps were around 35 degrees, strong NE wind. Not ideal.

Got to the put-in. We had elected to NOT take the boat ride to Hook Island (again, poor college students). We noticed on getting ready to put in, Kent had a jacket and coat but not anything rain gear-wise, so we fashioned him something out of spare garbage bags to keep the snow from melting and wetting his coat. We put in and headed north for the Customs Station in the middle of Big Sag. This went reasonably well, though Kent (who was my front man) wasn't a strong paddler.

Checked in at Customs. Kent had a smoke break on the pier. He was starting to express doubts about this. I explained it seemed bad, but a campsite with a big white man fire awaited him, and it likely wouldn't stay that cold all week. We hesitantly agreed, we got back in the boats and headed for Cache Bay.

Big Sag was pretty wavy that day, with a strong NNE wind. We had to tack back and forth. Kent's paddling grew weaker, he started taking long breaks from it. Started asking if he could have a smoke. The third time I told him NO I get testy, explaining that we were nearly a mile from any shore, in 35 degree weather, on 30-something degree water, and that if we capsized or swamped we could very well die. I need to control the boat, I need you to paddle, you can have your damn cig later.

The other two guys started getting pretty far ahead, and we stopped on Hook Island for lunch on the lee beach. We were all cold and not feeling great, but we chowed down and drank some water. Kent's doubts were getting stronger. Wasn't sure he could make it. We kept trying to talk him into keeping his head up. After eating we re-organized the boats, and he went with another guy to give me a bit of a rest from paddling with dead weight.

Kent and my friend pushed off into the sheltered bay. The other friend and I got in the boat. Just as we were pushing off, we heard the friend behind Kent say, quite loudly, "Well do you wanna go back?!" There was an awkward silence. He replied "yeah. I want to go back."

F^&@.

We first tried to talk him down, but that went nowhere and he got worse. When we started talking options, one of my friends (the one who yelled earlier) "We can just break his leg and put him under a log", within earshot of Kent. Anyway, we decided to split up. Kent and I would go back, with all our own gear and a small amount of the food that could be broken out, the other two would continue.

***Years later when talking about this over beers, the other two guys talked about looking over their shoulders at us as they paddled off, seeing the meandering path I was cutting, and wondering if we had made a terrible mistake.

Kent was nearly useless on the way back, barely paddled, kept asking for a smoke again. So here I am, fighting a strong wind on my port flank on big open water, trying not to die while paddling basically alone. By the time we got back to the outfitter on Seagull Lake, my arms were in complete knots like I had never experienced.

Got Kent into a hot shower at the outfitter. Debated staying for the night, but I didn't want to deal with being with him any longer than necessary. After we warmed up, we got in the car and drove back to Iowa, arriving in the middle of the night. I was friggin exhausted, and not happy.

I had to then drive the car back up there at the end of the week to get the other guys, in their car. Too poor to consider a hotel, I drove up overnight again, alone this time. Glad I got there safely.

As it turns out, the weather did turn, dramatically. By the end of the week it was record warmth up there, got to like 80 degrees. The guys realized on the second they didn't have sunscreen. Anyway, their trip went well, the got to MacKenzie and back, saw almost no one else on their trip. We drove back.

Be careful who you invite to Quetico. And rememeber how overwhelming those conditions can look to someone who's never done anything like that before.

Story 2 - The UPPER Cache River

Another trip headed for MacKenzie, but this one via French and Baptism Creek. Group of 5 in 2 boats. I had lots of experience, 3 others had a little Q experience (1 trip each I think), and 1 rookie who hadn't paddled a canoe before.

Day 1 went well - made it to lower Trousers for camp, as planned. Exhausted but doing fairly well.

Day 2, we got a later start than we wanted. Hit the Trousers-Cache portage, it had been very wet lately, and it was a muddy mess. We got to the creek crossing (which is about midway through the portage) near midday. People were very tired and having a hard time carrying the boats.

As we were setting up to canoe-bridge across the creek, the idea came to me. That creek, which is the upper part of the Cache River, looked navigable with the high water. And it should only get fuller as we go downstream. We had some time, and even if we had to drag a few places, seemed like we could still cover what looked like a maybe 3-4 mile stream pretty quickly. So let's skip the rest of the portage and go for the creek. All agreed.

How big a mistake was this? Let's put it this way. We got on there around maybe 11am or noon, and got into Cache lake around 10am THE NEXT DAY.

The first maybe hundred yards seemed OK, a little tight but manageable, so we decided we were going to continue. As time went on the creek got worse. Alternated between shallowing out into rock gardens, and tightening up so the turns were too tight for the canoes. And the tight spots were chest-deep. We did drags at times, and other times walked chest-deep in the creek pulling the boats behind us. It was very, very, very slow going.

It almost seemed like the creek had LESS water in it as we went down, which made me concerned we went down some branch and were getting lost (no GPS in those days). At some point we stopped to take a break and eat, it was mid-afternoon sometime. It seemed like we had to be close. As we were sitting there, a massive T-storm started rolling in. We popped up the tent quick and rode it out, and by the time it was over and the heavy rain stopped, it was 4 or 5pm. We went a little further, didn't seem to be close, and decided to camp for the night.

Next morning we got up and out quick, and after a couple more hours of dragging and lining, the creek opened up a lot, and soon we were on Cache Lake.

We didn't go to MacKenzie that trip.

On the way out we stopped at the French Lake ranger station to pass on the info - I thought people might want to know, in terms of what NOT to do. When I told the ranger at the desk what we did, she was confused. I don't think she believed me. I showed her on the map, and she gave me this look like, "what were you thinking?!" And I agreed.

So yeah, don't take that creek.

Wow, I don't have anything that comes remotely close to any of these stories, and I hope I never do!

The two stories from "Dances with Trees" were especially unfortunate. The experience with "Kent" only encourages me to continue solo tripping even more. :-)

Nevertheless, all the stories made for some entertaining reading. Thanks for sharing guys.

Hans Solo

Dances With Trees - I had a somewhat similar experience with a "Kent" type. The first day had similar weather, hard NNE winds on Big Sag, fighting probably 3 foot white caps.


To my Kent's credit he did not complain, but he started lilly dipping about a mile into the paddle. He quit doing any help on the portages and just stayed at the landing "watching" over the canoes. At the last portage, I was coming back for the canoes and caught him just staring out into the forest. Completely blank expression while mosquitos were feasting on his face. I knew then that if it was just him, he'd very likely crawl off into the forest and just give up, die. Very surreal to see a man give up like that.


But I got him over that portage and decided to base camp so he could rest up (and so I wouldn't be tempted to let him go). I'm certain it was the most difficult thing he's ever done. It's been many years, but wonder if it changed him at all.

OK, so I found this thread today...
My second canoe trip didn't seem so bad because we were young and had no real concept of our own mortality. But it was my worst trip ever.
Here is how I recalled the trip a few years ago. Read between the lines and you'll see wet, cold, near hypothermia and severe mouth burns...BUT we had fun!

--I loved the '78 trip so much, that Mark set up another trip the next year. In 1979, I went with Mark, his brother Harry, and Bill Zehring, a grad student who worked with Mark in the lab. We went in late September. Well, winter started a few days before we got there and we got blasted with cold wind, rain, and ice.

This trip is the Voyage of the Magic Schistosome and the USS Enterprise, piloted by James T. Kirok!
Our clothes got wet and Bill's sleeping bag got soaked one day. We built a five foot high pile of dry pine boughs and deadfall out on a sandy beach. We lit it and had ourselves a roaring 15 foot high blaze. We held out our clothes which dried in 15-20 minutes from about 10 feet away. We also held up Bill's sleeping bag and fluffed it and shook it, and in about 45 minutes or so, the bag was dry and toasty warm. On that trip we also "smoked the earth." I recall having lunch one day on U.S. Point. The wind was howling and ice crystals were being blown off the lake. It was that day that I learned you cannot heat your water and drink the tea from the same metal cup! By the end of that trip, our paddling technique had improved greatly and we were feeling reasonably confident in the boats.

In 1979 Harry had just completed his parasitology course. “Ascaris lumbricoides! Schistosomiasis haematobium!” was the bellowing call we heard from the Magic Shistosome as we paddled into the teeth of a howling, icy wind! Alas, the evil worms were not to be found!!--

Funny--I saw this pop up and didn't read the original date, thought to myself "I've got a story to share" Well wait--my story is already listed. No longer confused :)

T

quote chipaddler: "Dances With Trees - I had a somewhat similar experience with a "Kent" type. The first day had similar weather, hard NNE winds on Big Sag, fighting probably 3 foot white caps.



To my Kent's credit he did not complain, but he started lilly dipping about a mile into the paddle. He quit doing any help on the portages and just stayed at the landing "watching" over the canoes. At the last portage, I was coming back for the canoes and caught him just staring out into the forest. Completely blank expression while mosquitos were feasting on his face. I knew then that if it was just him, he'd very likely crawl off into the forest and just give up, die. Very surreal to see a man give up like that.



But I got him over that portage and decided to base camp so he could rest up (and so I wouldn't be tempted to let him go). I'm certain it was the most difficult thing he's ever done. It's been many years, but wonder if it changed him at all.


"

We had a Kent on one of our trips, we called it the Q that never happened. We had weekly planning meetings and everyone knew what they needed to do. We drove up from KC up to Ely. We put in on Moose lake and spent the morning paddling to PP. When we got there, Our Kent was apprehensive, almost scared. When it was our turn a customs, it was
discovered that Kent did not have his RABC. He had legal issues and was denied a RABC, and he did not think it was important to let us know. We had three options, leave him at PP, not. Rest of group go in and his friend (me) take him back to outfitter or we all do a BWCA trip. We did the BWCA trip and it was a good week but the anger from the group in general was always there. The down side is Kent never went back, not because of the place but because of the group. Kind of sad since he had potential to be a good BWCA tripper.

quote MrBreeze: "

quote chipaddler: "Dances With Trees - I had a somewhat similar experience with a "Kent" type. The first day had similar weather, hard NNE winds on Big Sag, fighting probably 3 foot white caps.



To my Kent's credit he did not complain, but he started lilly dipping about a mile into the paddle. He quit doing any help on the portages and just stayed at the landing "watching" over the canoes. At the last portage, I was coming back for the canoes and caught him just staring out into the forest. Completely blank expression while mosquitos were feasting on his face. I knew then that if it was just him, he'd very likely crawl off into the forest and just give up, die. Very surreal to see a man give up like that.



But I got him over that portage and decided to base camp so he could rest up (and so I wouldn't be tempted to let him go). I'm certain it was the most difficult thing he's ever done. It's been many years, but wonder if it changed him at all.



"

We had a Kent on one of our trips, we called it the Q that never happened. We had weekly planning meetings and everyone knew what they needed to do. We drove up from KC up to Ely. We put in on Moose lake and spent the morning paddling to PP. When we got there, Our Kent was apprehensive, almost scared. When it was our turn a customs, it was
discovered that Kent did not have his RABC. He had legal issues and was denied a RABC, and he did not think it was important to let us know. We had three options, leave him at PP, not. Rest of group go in and his friend (me) take him back to outfitter or we all do a BWCA trip. We did the BWCA trip and it was a good week but the anger from the group in general was always there. The down side is Kent never went back, not because of the place but because of the group. Kind of sad since he had potential to be a good BWCA tripper.
"

Wow. I think that's almost worse. Your Kent spent time in a calculated manner, deciding not to tell you and put the whole group at risk for their trip. I'd have been very angry.

I also love that apparently now we've established a "Kent" as a thing.

Lets see..........The time I passed out on the Burke Lake Portage in the Q. Or the time I went down and out on the Silence Lake Portage and I overheard my two partners speculating on the possibility of my passing. Or perhaps last year when I had a little heart problem on Argo. Oh, yeah, the irregular heartbeat on Sunday.
But this year I am 3 for 3 on trips, including an aggressive trip in the Q last week and an earlier week long solo. Three down and two to go.
Bad experiences but could not call any of them a bad trip.