Fitz owns a cabin on the Vermilion River so, we all spend the night before there. We’re up insanely early to get to Anderson Outfitters in Crane Lake by 6:00 a.m. to catch our tow to Bottle portage. The “fossils” among us are astonished by an antiquated vestige of a bygone era (a phone booth) propped up just outside and reminisce of having to use one like it to call our parents to pick us up from practice back in the day.

After that short stroll down amnesia lane, we load up and are on our way across Crane Lake to the Loon River. It’s a cool overcast morning but the added adrenaline of starting our adventure is sufficient to burn the edge off as we roar across the lake & up the river. We share the tow with 2 other gentlemen, who tell us they will be staying on Lac La Croix, and the outfitter dog “Brewer” whose curiosity becomes a little ‘taxing’ as he tirelessly scurries back and forth about the boat.

Our first stop is at Loon Falls portage. We all hop out and leisurely stroll alongside the rail tracks that pull the loaded boat up and over the hill into Loon Lake. Passing by some charming flowers still in bloom along the way, Naomi is chided not to pick them as we converge at the dock just as the boat is being released off the carriage back into the water.

It is a shorter trek up to Beatty portage where we “rinse & repeat” before getting back on the water for the final long haul up to Bottle portage.

Hopefully, this will be our, one and, only portage of the day. Confident in that, we have indulged and brought a few extra luxury items along. Curious, some of the younger members of our crew veer left at the fork the first time across while the rest of us take the high road to the right. Converging at the rocky landing at Bottle Lake, those that took the muddy mess low road resolve to use the other trail on their next excursion across.

In short order we are loaded up and paddling out across Bottle Lake. Fitz, Caroline & Naomi are in the first canoe, Father Brandon, Isaiah & Zoe in the next, lastly Aurora & I paddle The Black Pearl. It’s overcast and even before we reach Iron Aurora & I get hung up on a rock-odile lurking just below the surface. After catching up to the rest of the gang near Iron Lake, it starts raining. Gently at first but, at times, it briefly morphs into a sideways pins & needles tribulation. Still, it never gets too serious, and we paddle our way south hopeful to grab the site on the large island situated near that end of the lake.

We’d met a group heading out on the portage and they told us the lake was mostly empty, and we’ve already passed a few vacant sites so, we’re feeling pretty good about our chances. The protracted paddle around the island heightens our anticipation as we creep around from one corner to the next. Fitz is in the lead canoe and seeing them make a beeline towards shore signals to the rest of us that the site is indeed vacant.

A nice gently sloping granite landing is just out in front of an exquisite fire grate that rivals any to be found in all of canoe country. The site, and really the vast majority of this large island, is crowned with a majestic stand of mature red pines that afford interminable tarp & hammock options. Of course, like all stands of red pine, there is limited undergrowth to contend with so exploration will be convenient as well. There are plenty of flat tent pads peppered about, so I think it’s safe to say, everyone is instantly smitten with the site and set up soon beings in earnest.

The rain has stopped and while us elders are putting the finishing touches on getting camp up, the kids are eager to try their luck fishing. Caroline draws first blood as she hauls in a decent smallie right from shore. Apparently, Father Brandon is still ruminating on a recent Gospel Passage (“Do you think I have come to give peace on earth? No, I tell you, but rather division; for henceforth in one house there will be five divided, three against two and two against three...”) as he breaks us into groups: Fitz, Caroline, Aurora & myself vs. Father, Naomi, Isaiah & Zoe. Much to the angst of Caroline, Father Brandon says only walleyes count and initiates plenty of dubious trash talking even after Aurora brings in a couple of small walleyes giving us the early lead.

It’s early in the trip, but it’s clearly evident that some definitive personality characteristics have already bubbled to the surface within our group dynamic. Much like Aurora, Isaiah is more contemplative, quiet and reserved; while Caroline & Zoe are anything but! As they both impetuously say whatever’s on their mind – most especially whenever it has anything to do with how they feel about Father Brandon and his behaviors. For his part, Father Brandon is eager and tireless in “poking the hive” provoking and inflaming the previously mentioned behaviors.

It remains overcast and looks like it wants to rain but, we don’t see much the rest of the day. Father, Naomi, Aurora & Isaiah sit down around the blue barrel to play a game of cards, Fitz & Caroline try some shoreline fishing, Zoe takes a nap, and I strike out to find some firewood.

Father informs everyone that we should just start calling him ‘BWCA Brandon’ because he’s an expert at all things associated with being out here and begins bellowing some bothersome guttural sounds that are allegedly supposed to be spot on animal sounds/calls. Meanwhile, Naomi takes no small amount of contentment in beating Father at cards just before we all reconvene to prepare our supper of hamburgers, brats & corn on the cob. Afterwards, Naomi puts Zoe’s hair up in a Dutch braid as we’re all hopeful that the clouds will move on but unfortunately, it’s remains an overcast sky tonight so no stars or talk if the moon is waxing or waning.

It’s still gray & gloomy out this morning as we enjoy sausage & fresh blueberry pancakes for breakfast. Fishing is a priority today and Caroline takes no small satisfaction in letting Father know that his team is behind and he could bear lasting witness to all present here as having acquired one of the Fruits of the Holy Spirit (wisdom) by just giving it up already.

After breakfast, Fitz leads all the young ‘uns out to do some fishing. Fitz, Caroline & Zoe in one canoe, while Aurora & Isaiah team up in the other. They’re able to find a hole a short way from camp and spend the next few hours adding to the tallies. Meanwhile back in camp I continue processing some firewood before Father Brandon cajoles Naomi & I into a game of Ticket to Ride which he ends up winning – although we notice a few extra game pieces stashed under his chair as we cleanup & put the game away, calling into question the legitimacy of this fishy victory.

Perhaps I should say fish-less when describing Father Brandon?! The fishing party returns, and the totals are lopsided to the extreme. Caroline feels that this walleye blood also speaks more eloquently than that of Abel as she rejoices in the festal lakeside gathering that puts Father to shame. For his part Father claims “BWCA Brandon” knows where the walleyes are stacked up, so his team has no need to worry once he hits the water. Zoe exhibits serious doubts and sides with Caroline & Aurora but, apparently St. Jude (patron Saint of lost causes) is Isaiah’s patron as he continues to stand by his uncle despite the overwhelming odds.

Eager to learn more about all things outdoors, Naomi joins Fitz & I as we paddle over to the nearby island to clean the catch. She’s a quick learner and we quip she’s already surpassed the wilderness acumen of BWCA Brandon! Fitz provides further instruction and explains that larger walleyes have edible cheeks that can also be cut and then fried up. However, once back in camp, BWCA Brandon mercilessly razzes Naomi for falling for such a seemingly obvious ruse. I don’t think poor Naomi knows quite what to believe, even after the rest of us solemnly assure her there are/is such a thing as a walleye cheek.

Unlike her uncle, Zoe is on the cutting edge of the coolest trends that are currently all the rage. And some of her sayings gain some lasting traction. One such example is that after she hears anyone use the word “massive”, she instantly perks up and counters; “You wanna know what else is massive? My loooow tapered fade!” (Unbeknownst to this clueless BWCA trip reporter until after the trip is over, that this refers to a current hairdo/cut. Not sure how this relates to anything that anyone was talking about at the time but, if we heard it once we heard it 50 times throughout the week!!! Eventually, everyone else was saying it too.)

Needing a reprieve from the incessant harassment (he’s mostly brought upon himself), Father Brandon announces we’ll have Mass before supper. With a heart-stirring flotilla of diminutive pine crowned islands of Iron Lake serving as the backdrop, we put our current rivalries on hold as we all gather to celebrate the Holy sacrifice of the Mass together. Above all it is these moments in the wilderness that I am so grateful Aurora is getting to experience for the first time. There’s even a first for the rest of us as Father Brandon sets out the monstrance and we have a short, yet profound, period of Eucharistic Adoration immediately following Mass!

The bounty of fresh walleye is fried and supplemented with some delectable vegetables from Naomi’s Garden as everyone eats their fill of everything. It didn’t rain today but it did remain overcast most of the time and this continues into the evening as we only catch fleeting glimpses of a few stars tonight before turning in.

It’s a cool, though at long last, clear morning and the beams of sunlight breaking over the horizon and illuminating the eastern sides of the small islands out in front of camp is almost magical. Only Father Brandon is up already, so I take some time to stroll alone around our sizeable island.

There are several jutting points within eyeshot of camp and as I work my way to the eastern edge I pass by many blueberry plants – at this later stage of summer, it's hard to say if they’re typically berry producing. There’s an elevated massive granite knob in the NE corner that provides a decent overlook of the lake and affords an excellent opening from which to contemplate the sunrise. Having traveled a fair distance from camp, I also start finding some ideal firewood. After dragging that back to camp I head off in the other direction.

It’s an easy traverse under the canopy of large red pines as I make my way to the western end of the island. At the lakeshore there are a couple of granite outcroppings jutting out into the lake that would seem to be ideal for swimming from or viewing the sunsets. The ground on shore is mostly carpeted with a thick, mushy green moss that is pretty but doesn’t hold much in the way of good firewood.

Fitz takes the kids out fishing again after breakfast while Naomi, Father & I finish dishes & putting things away. Once those chores are completed, the 3 of us hop in the remaining canoe and paddle over to the fishing hole. Our plan is to head over to Curtain Falls and we ask if anyone would like to paddle over with us. Aurora & Isaiah join us while the others stay back to continue fishing.

It’s a glorious sunny day, and it feels good to be out on the lake basking in God’s grandeur and the refreshing breeze. We do a little fishing along the way and Naomi hooks into a decent bass that Father nets for her, but he swings & misses on the bites he has.

We struggle a bit to paddle up the shallow rapid before the portage trail to Curtain Falls but, eventually, we all make it up without serious incident. I pull the canoes out of the way off to the side while the rest of the gang make tracks up the trail. Of course, everyone takes time to sit in awe & wonder and behold God’s sublime scene of visionary enchantment. Ironically, while here, the 2 gentlemen we shared the tow with happen upon our group lounging near the top of the falls. We trade stories of how our trips are going & wish each other well before heading off in our own direction.

Father has been saying, “The walleyes are gonna be stacked up here below the falls” all morning. So, we’re all ripe with eager anticipation waiting to see his prophecy fulfilled. After having gone down a myriad of different spur trails to the various pools they lead to, no one adds anything to the tally board. I chuckle to myself after hearing Aurora & Isaiah astutely assess BWCA Brandon’s fishing prowess. (Referencing the gaming that their generation is known for) “It seems like instead of leveling up – he's leveling down. This is Naomi’s first trip and even SHE is catching fish!” For his part, Father claims we needed to be on the Canadian side.

Undeterred, Father now persistently badgers our teenagers to cannonball into the water near the portage landing on the downstream side. They are hesitant at first but eventually they both capitulate enjoying the cooling swim.

On the way back BWCA Brandon’s paddling technique is not a little askew as he “inadvertently” douses Naomi with water from his extended paddle stroke. Naomi, confident that God is aware she is engaging in a just war, retaliates 30, 60, a 100-fold!

While the spectacle of Curtain Falls is always a sight to behold, I am even more taken aback by how Aurora & Isaiah have connected so profoundly in just a couple of days. There is an undeniable connection, and it warms my heart beyond measure to see to my quiet daughter befriend someone so quickly. Praise God and the wonders of the wilderness!

Upon rejoining the rest of the crew back in camp, Caroline is not surprised at all by Fathers lack of fishing success and savors every minute of it. Ever the protagonist, Father makes a quip about the strange marks Caroline has on her hands. She says, “it’s henna”; to which Father retorts, “more like Ge-henna!” It seems the pattern that has now been established is that Father begins each day by razzing both Caroline & Zoe. However, they both resolutely stand their ground and give it right back. Today is perhaps the high point as Father, gesturing with his hands, begins to spin yet another yarn. In a state of obvious exacerbation, Caroline hollers, “Put those hands away!!!” Which leads to an extended period of belly laughing throughout camp. BWCA Brandon looks to totally redeem himself by then demonstrating his skill calling in some loons but, by all accounts, I suspect he may have dug his hole even deeper.

While Caroline has expended an incredible amount of energy bemoaning Father Brandon's many shortcomings, she still finds time to create an exalting tribute to her Savior. Aurora & I take an opportunity before supper to finally head out together to do some fishing. We have a nice chat, and she revels in bringing in her new personal best bass (18+ inches) as we do so.

After a late surf & turf supper (jumbo shrimp & steak) we all gather by the lakeshore again to celebrate a candlelit Mass under the stars. If there’s an experience from this trip, I wish I could share with everyone, this is definitely it. Father Brandon often speaks on how we (as a culture) have lost our sense of awe & wonder. Well, awe & wonder is occurring in spades tonight for everyone as the Holy Sacrifice takes place.

No one says as much but, we’re all still “buzzing” from the experience and sit up a little later tonight. I pull out some blueberry blonde beer from the Boathouse in Ely as a delectable nightcap for the vintage & fossil folk among us; while Naomi regals everyone with some nighttime stories.

Really not outright gloomy this morning but, it is overcast, and the air feels heavy. Strangely, one moment its muggy, the next there’s a slight chill in the air. Zoe continues to exhibit a most intriguing sitting posture. After breakfast Aurora, Isaiah & myself hop in a 3-seat canoe hoping to explore the small chain of lakes just south of us between Iron & Stuart Lake. Meanwhile Naomi, having limbered up her paddling muscles yesterday splashing Father Brandon, feels she is ready to do some explorations with Zoe, so they grab the Black Pearl and head out in a different direction. Caroline, Fitz & Father Brandon stay back, and I can't help but quip to Caroline as we paddle away; "Enjoy your bonding time with Father Brandon!"

Our first portage is a short paddle SW down a narrow arm of Iron Lake. A narrow-slanted granite slope serves as the landing to Dark Lake. The trail is slightly overgrown but easily followed. There is an elongated section of a granite knob near the middle of the trail that makes it seem like we are walking on a sidewalk. Another narrow landing greets us on the other end but, it’s flatter and weedier.

The lone campsite on Dark beckons but, is nearly impossible to discern its location from out on the lake. If a person didn't know it was there, I don’t think anyone would ever just stumble across it. Aurora spies a faint trail leading up the hillside where it supposed to be, so we pull in. Her & Isaiah soon verify that it is, in fact, the campsite – just extremely overgrown.

Aurora is surprised to hear me say, “it’s not close to the worst site I’ve ever seen.” In its current state it's hard to evaluate but, it is elevated providing a decent overlook of the lake, there are a couple of very overgrown tent pads, although tarp options would be a struggle. Not a horrible option for a solo paddler (or two) looking for solitude.

Our next portage ends up being a little shorter version of the previous. Basically, a slightly overgrown up and over. While I haven’t seen Fox Lake yet, upon beholding the charming countenance of Rush Lake, I strongly suspect it’s the gem of these 3 lakes between Stuart & Iron. We even have the resident loon escort us for a while as we paddle around the lake. Eventually we pull into the island campsite – which is the only site on the lake.

It doesn’t sport the greatest landing, but it is serviceable. The site is elevated with an excellent view of this enchanting lake. While the fire grate itself is par-excellance, the ground just behind it is severely sloped and there is no log seating. There are a couple of decent tent pads but black spruce seems to be the dominant tree around camp so tarp & hammock options will need an extra measure of creativity. While I believe a larger group would struggle here, I think a small group would find this site quite acceptable.

Afterwards, we paddle over to the portage landing for the trail that leads to Fox Lake. My young apprentices seem to have run out of steam as they don’t feel like traversing this one, so they stay back as I go it alone leaving the canoe & gear with them.

Much the same as the previous 2 portages, although this one seems to be the steepest – but not severely so. It doesn’t sport the most expansive/convenient landing of the 3 on the Fox end. I bushwhack over to the camp site and find another marginal, overgrown site that is situated on an elevated rock shelf that doesn’t seem to provide much in the way of useable ground for tent stakes. The tight narrow landing and lack of useful trees add to my low estimation of this site.

Returning to the Rush Lake landing, I’m delighted to find that in my absence Aurora & Isaiah have caught a few fish right from shore. Just some small hammer-handles but it kept them occupied. They pull up some bass once we’re out on the lake as we make our way back to camp.

After paddling our way back to camp, Father Brandon greets us, and we give him a rundown of how things went. I see Zoe in camp but not Naomi or the Black Pearl, so I inquire about their whereabouts. Father says Zoe literally just got back to camp. She had walked from the west side of the island in an effort to scare Father who had been lounging in a hammock while Naomi loaded the front of the canoe with boulders so she could apparently continue her explorations.

Ominously, and on cue, the wind starts gusting to the point that it’s kicking up dust in camp. Concerned, I confess (pun intended) to Father that I wouldn’t want to be paddling out in these types of conditions, especially by myself and hope still ‘wet behind the ears’ Naomi isn’t floundering at sea. At this stage of the paddling season, I don’t think typically the water could get much warmer. So, her swamping likely wouldn’t be as serious as at other times of the year but, the wind is blowing in a NW direction which could/would push her out into the most expansive part of the lake.

Much like the Apostle John, (the kids) outran Peter (Father & I) to the west end of the island. They report that Naomi hadn’t swamped and made it behind the island after doing a series of ‘whirlybirds’ on the water. This helped set our mind at ease since she would now be able to use the island as a shield from the wind. Still, we wanted to see if she needed help so, we pressed on around the island. As we crested a high protruding point on the backside of the island, we could just make out Naomi rounding a rocky point at the extreme east end of the island.

Back in camp, Fitz grabbed a paddle and hiked back to the east end of the island where he initially startled Naomi before hopping in and quite literally rescuing our damsel in distress by paddling with her back to camp.

Of course, there are a myriad of spiritual lessons to be gleaned from this harrowing ordeal, and several are immediately brought forth as we all relive the events that led up to this point - once everyone is back in camp. Without taking up too more space in this report, I’ll give a plug to Father Brandon & Naomi’s weekly podcast (it should be linked at the end of this report) where they discuss Naomi’s tribulation starting at about the 8:00 minute mark.

The weather, which has been peculiar all day, continues to morph into a stormy rain shower before then clearing off and settling into a calm tranquil evening. So much so, that Aurora & Zoe take the opportunity to swim out to the scenic island out in front of camp. We enjoy our last growler of blueberry blonde before turning in this last night of our trip.

Yet another gray morning. We celebrate Mass one last time today. A family of swans does it’s best to keep us distracted by honking and chasing away other birds. Afterwards, a quick breakfast and then we begin tearing down camp and getting everything packed away. Our tow back to Crane Lake isn’t set to arrive until 2:30 so there is no big rush yet, we are still on the water with plenty of time to spare.

It looks like it wants to rain but, it never does. It’s a bit breezy as we paddle back to Bottle portage but not so much so as to be a hindrance. The portage goes by quickly as everyone is in good spirits and the clouds start breaking up bringing with it increasing winds.

We paddle the short distance over to our pickup point and settle in as we’re here about an hour & a half early. Much like she has all week, Naomi entertains by sharing stories and then playing various games with the kids as well. Naomi relating so well with the kids throughout the trip entice them to christen her with the catchy moniker “Our Homey Naomi.”

By the time the tow arrives, Lac La Croix is rockin’. I give our driver my camera to take a group photo but, don’t verify he got the shot until well after the fact and then realize he never took the photo. Regardless of that, we all give glory to God for not having to paddle through these conditions and are surprised to learn its roughly 60 miles from Bottle portage to the docks on Crane Lake.

Back in Crane Lake Father, Fitz & I shuttle back to grab our vehicles. After returning to the landing, as we’re loading up, out of the corner of my eye I notice Aurora & Isaiah exchanging numbers. The look of sheer joy on her face is priceless. And this new budding friendship may be the most prominent aspect of the trip for her. Once we’re all loaded, Aurora & I stop at The Vermilion River Tavern to grab a bite to eat while everyone else heads for Fitz’s cabin.

Ironically, 6 of the 8 of us are soon reunited Sunday morning for Mass in Aurora, MN. Bishop Felton is in town to officially install Father Brandon as administrator of the eastern Iron Range Mission Field. He also gives a blessing to Naomi and the young women in The Bethany House too. Quite the young gentleman, Isaiah comes and sits next to Aurora for Mass and then we all head downstairs to the social hall for a brunch & BBQ celebration.

At this point in the report, it should go without saying that Father Brandon is certainly the straw that stirs the drink for our crew – or most any crew for that matter. Having said that, I realize I hadn’t said too much about Fitz. So, I thought I’d share a little bit about him.

In a lot of ways, he’s quiet and unassuming but, as evidenced in this report, he is always willing to help out and makes an invaluable tripping partner. However, the aspect of his personality I think I appreciate the most in his subtle dry wit & humor.

Perhaps my favorite story of his to illustrate this follows: A few years prior to this trip, Father Brandon was trying to round up some people to join him on a BWCA trip he was trying to put together. Fitz messaged back, “If I’m gonna be able to come, I think I’ll first need a priest to lick his finger and then stick it in my wife’s ear saying ‘Ephphatha’ - be open." (from Mark 7:34).

Now Father Brandon didn’t actually do/try this, but after this trip I’ve pondered this in my heart and came up with one probable outcome of him attempting to do so. I strongly suspect that he would have heard from another member of the Fitz family a phrase that became popular on this trip, possibly colorfully garnished with emphatic language unbecoming of a lady - “PUT THOSE HANDS AWAY!!!”