BWCA Entry Point, Route, and Trip Report Blog
October 31 2025
Entry Point 20 - Angleworm Lake
						Angleworm Lake entry point allows overnight paddle only.  This entry point is supported by Kawishiwi Ranger Station near the city of Ely, MN.  The distance from ranger station to entry point is 18 miles. Access is a 640-rod portage to Angleworm Lake.
Number of Permits per Day: 2
Elevation: 1260 feet
Latitude: 48.0659
Longitude: -91.9303
Angleworm Lake - 20
						Number of Permits per Day: 2
Elevation: 1260 feet
Latitude: 48.0659
Longitude: -91.9303
Angleworm Lake - 20
You Don't Catch, You Don't Eat
by rockstaranon
			Trip Report
			
			Entry Date:
			May 16, 2011
			
			
			Entry Point:
			Mudro Lake
			
			
		
						
							Number of Days:
						 
						  
							6
						 
						
							
								Group Size:
							 
							 
								5
							 
		
			
					
						
						
							
							Trip Introduction:
							
						 
						 
							
			
			
								It’s funny the way time works in your mind. 
Usually 
your long terms goals seem to come to fruition 
ridiculously 
fast, but short term goals seem to take FOREVER to get 
to, 
especially when there is a lot of hype around it. This 
trip 
was no exception. I began planning in late December for 
our 
mid-May fishing opener trip, and at the suggestion of one 
of 
my trip partners, we decided to outfit through Canadian 
Border Outfitters. The original plan was for a 
challenging 6 
day loop from Mudro, up the Horse River, around the hook 
on 
the border through Wheelbarrow Falls, drop down through 
Basswood and Jackfish Bay, and exit at Fall Lake.  So I 
bought the permits in February and began to accrue trip 
partners. By March we had 6 guys on board: Me, The Kid 
(Nimbus2000 here in the forum), Papa D, Webb, Rob J, and 
Spot. 2 rookies in the mix and a smattering of experience 
from the rest, not including myself. This was shaping up 
to 
be a grand adventure. Since we had 6 people, it was 
decided 
to shorten the length of the trip quite a bit. We’d have 
2 
full layover days on Horse and Crooked, and exit back 
through Mudro. This would allow for more fishing and less 
sore muscles. Our one snag came in early April when Spot 
called me and said he wasn’t going to be able to get the 
time off work. So we tried finding a replacement to no 
avail, and our crew was set at 5. This meant I would be 
soloing…again. And so January to May dragged on and on 
and 
on. The wait was excruciating, and I probably spent more 
time researching for this trip than I did studying for my 
finals, but finally it was May 15th and we were ready to 
go. 
Before the trip, one of the popular phrases among the 
group 
was that if you don’t catch, you don’t eat. This was of 
course meant to be a lighthearted jest, but little did we 
know that that phrase would turn out to have more merit 
than 
expected.
Also, for some reason bwca.com doesn't show previews for 
a lot of my photos and it looks like there is a broken 
link for some of the pictures. If you click on the broken 
link icon the photo will appear for each one.
							
						
						
					
						Day 1 of 6
					 
				
				
					Day 1: Twin Cities to Ely/Babbitt.  [paragraph break]  Since Papa D wasn’t going to be able head up at the same time as me, Kid and   Rob   J, he gave us his four runner and the three of us started for Ely on Sunday,   May   15th at 1pm. Damn it felt good to be on the road, all your obligations and   responsibilities of life at home are null and void as soon as you hit the   freeway, and the only concern I really had was if we were going to have   enough   food. Webb and Papa D were only a couple hours behind us and we were making   good   time. A quick stop in Ely to grab a Mackenzie map from Piragis, and a couple   rented packs at the Lodge, in which CBO was gracious enough to drive down   and   drop off for us, then over to Babbitt to stay with my aunt and uncle who   were   nice enough to put up us for a night (and cook us some unbelievably good BBQ   chicken). Somehow Papa and Webb managed to beat us to Babbitt, now how did   THAT   happen?! Of course Webb did 80 the whole way. Got all our clothes   permethrined   and the usual pack and prep took till about 2am. The Kid and I have become   somewhat of gear junkies and we probably spent more on new gear than we did   on   our entire rentals. We managed about 4 hours of sleep before we were up at   6am   and loading the cars.    
				
					
						Day 2 of 6
					 
				
				
					Day 2: Mudro Lake to Horse Lake: 3 portages – 80 rods, 160 rods, 90 rods.  [paragraph break]  We stop in Ely for breakfast at Subway and to pick up a few last minute   things,   then up to CBO for our transport. Can’t say enough good things about CBO,   they   were great. We get dropped off at Mudro around 10:30am, quite a bit later   than   I’d hoped but I really didn’t care, we were HERE! The weather was gorgeous,   it   was about 65 degrees and mostly sunny with a slight breeze at a cross wind   for   us. I really took a liking my 16.5’ Wenonah Prism Solo. Last year I soloed a   tandem Bell Magic Royalex and hated it. This was a completely new   experience.   The little skiff was quick and agile and had great handling. The first 80   rod   portage from Mudro to Sandpit was brutal. 40 rods up and 40 rods back down   with   lots of ankle twisting rocks, a couple fallen trees, and a very steep   decline at   the end. We had a bit of trouble tracking down the entrance to the next 160   rod   from Sandpit to Tin Can Mike. There were a lot of fallen logs in the bay of   the   portage entrance and it took a bit of exploration to find it. Even though   this   was the longest portage of the trip, it was by far the easiest. 160 rods of   wide, flat and simple terrain and we crushed the entire double portage in   about   45 min, with a quick lunch of pb and j’s at the end. The 90 rod from Tin Can   Mike to Horse was pretty routine, and I saw some old wolf scat and fresher   bear   scat on the trail. Finally we were on our destination lake. I’d had my hopes   set   on the northern island campsite on Horse, and REALLY prayed it wasn’t   occupied.   However as we started nearing the middle of the lake, I could see people   swimming on the rock peninsula of the island, and did I just see a tent?   Yup, it   was taken. Major bummer. We settled on the middle of the three campsites on   the   east end of the lake. I liked this one though. Very roomy, good landing spot   and   a couple of promising looking bays on either side. As we pull up to the   landing   and start unloading, it happens again. The Kid, without looking over the   side of   the canoe to see where he stepping, tumbled out in almost 5 ft of water. He   managed to keep his head dry this time though, but was thoroughly soaked   otherwise. You’d think he’d have learned from last year when he did the same   thing at our first campsite landing on Ensign, only that time he was   completely   submerged. I stifle a chuckle and ask if he’s alright. No harm, no foul, and   the   quick dry gear held up well. Camp is set up fast and it feels great to get   into   dry socks and shoes. Papa D tested out the waters in front of the campsite   and   managed to snag a decent gator that threw the lure as he was pulling it up   to   the rock. This is a good sign. Haven’t been at camp for an hour and already   fish   are biting. After a nice nap and a delicious steak and potato dinner (as is   tradition on the first evening of every trip), we hit the waters for some   serious walleye fishing. Rob J and Kid are hunting gators, Webb and Papa   drop   some minnows into the bay just north of the campsite, and I decide to head   up   the lake to a couple spots I had heard were good. I had just dropped down my   first jig and minnow right next to the island site and when Papa radios me   and   says “Walleye success! Get back over here!” As quick as lighting I speed   back to   the bay above our campsite. They had pulled a nice eater eye. I drop my   minnow   back down and BAM, nab a nice 18” wally. Papa and Webb started slamming the   eyes   and I grabbed a nice 30” gator that gave me a couple good runs under the   canoe.   We fished till about an hour after sunset and decided to head in for a fish   fry.   Rob J and Kid had already gone back to camp 30 min earlier and Rob J had   retired   to his tent. As I was paddling back to the landing I hear a “SHHHHIIIIIINK,   *Plop*”……my stringer with my delicious wally on it was apparently not   connected   to my canoe as secure as I thought, and down to the bottom they both went.   Damn.   That’s upsetting. Thankfully Webb and Papa had four nice eaters and our fish   fry   was still on. Webb and I sliced and diced em and Kid, who turned out to be a   master chef, prepped them for the pan. Let me make this perfectly clear;   there   is nothing, and I mean nothing better than fresh walleye thrown on the   skillet   and fried up less than an hour after being pulled from the lake. The best   filet   mignon in the world doesn’t even compare. These fillets were carefully   seasoned,   breaded with shore lunch and panko, and fried to crisp, brown perfection. At   11pm, we ate what I would argue to be the best meal of the trip. Full and   content, we put day 1 on the trail to rest.![]()
 
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
				
					
						Day 3 of 6
					 
				
				
					Day 3: Horse Lake Layover.  [paragraph break]  Woke up at 5 for a bathroom break and the sun was just coming up through the   trees behind the campsite. I seriously contemplate jumping in the canoe and   doing some early fishing, but it was coooold and the warm sleeping bag was   too   inviting. I think around 10am everyone started stirring. Breakfast was bacon   and eggs. Kid and I planned on day tripping to Jackfish Bay to hunt for some   big   pike with big reputations. Webb, Rob J, and Papa got ready to fish Horse   Lake   while Kid and I set off. It felt great to canoe in tandem. I can handle a   solo   just fine, but it was good to have some power in the bow. Kid and I flew   across   the water in the lightly packed canoe with renewed energy and a heightened   sense   of adventure. The day was promising at a sunny 75 degrees with a light   breeze.   We crossed the 160 again only to have to turn an immediate left at Sandpit   to   enter another 160 rod, only this time there was supposed to be a trail to   the   Agnes River on our left somewhere, but we couldn’t find it! We portaged the   entire thing, only to turn around at the end and go all the way back, of   course   we blew right past the side trail. Agnes River was really fun to paddle   through.   We had a couple muddy detours through unmarked portages, encountered some   friendly (or protective) eagles, and fought some serious waves on Jackfish   Bay.   No pike though. The southern end of Jackfish claimed 2 of my lures in 15   minutes   and I lost the crank handle to my reel over the edge trying to free a snag.   Fortunately I always bring an extra rod and reel. So Kid and I head back   home   fishless. No worries though, the adventure is what counts anyway. We return   to   find the camp quiet as everyone is passed out. I check the dough I began   rising   the night before and make a quick dinner of crooked doughnuts (fried bread   topped with maple syrup) and some breakfast sausages. After dinner we had   back   out for more walleye hunting with no success. The pike however were   ravenous,   and Kid and Papa D managed to snag a couple 35” gators. Now it’s a long   standing   tradition that whoever catches the biggest fish on a trip gets their meal   and   first beer bought for them at our dinner in Ely on the exit day. Well I   brought   with me a Rapala electric scale, but it was stuck on kilograms and we   couldn’t   get it changed. Papa and Kid’s pike are almost twins. The first weigh in   comes   up with Kid’s fish at 2.13kg and Papa’s at 2.11kg. Well that’s a little too   close for comfort so a re-weigh is called. After initial weigh in, Papa’s   pike   got set on the ground and covered with bark, pine needles and dirt, so I   took it   down to the lake and washed it off, (we were planning on eating both of   these).   Well that didn’t sit well with Kid, because the next weigh in had Papa’s   pike at   2.14kg, and Kid’s at 2.12kg, and he claimed there was new “water weight.”   Kid is   furious at this point and demands to go clean off his fish too. So,   chuckling to   ourselves we say “Go right ahead.” He goes to the lake and “cleans” his   pike.   As he’s walking back with the fish held vertically, mouth up, someone says,   “Hey   Kid, flip the pike upside down.” Kid then turns the pike upside down and   fountain of pike water comes pouring out of the fish’s mouth. At this point   we’re all laughing so hard we’re almost in tears, but Kid didn’t think it   was so   funny. He says “F*** you guys,” and promptly hurls the big pike at Papa and   me.   We had to think fast and duck or be chomped by a flying pike’s gaping maw.   This   was of course all in good fun, and Kid arguably ended up winning the big   fish   and had a free meal and beer at the end of the trip. Rob J fillets up the   fish   and with our belly’s full for the second night in a row, we head to bed   early   for a 6am start up the Horse River.    
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
				
					
						Day 4 of 6
					 
				
				
					Day 4: Horse River to Crooked Lake. 3 “official” portages. 58 rods, 48,   rods,   and 73 rods. Some un-official ones as well.  [paragraph break]  We were up at 6am. After some delicious sausage, egg, and cheese breakfast   burritos, we broke down camp and pushed off the landing by 7am. I’ve never   been   up that early or broken down camp so efficiently with this many people. It   was   good start for what was shaping up to be an encouraging day. The weather   again   was mint. About 70 degrees, a light breeze, and a few tufts of clouds dotted   against the big blue blanket. The Horse River was a blast! I’d heard that   sometimes if the water was high enough, you could ride some of the light   rapids   past the unmarked portages. There were about 5 unmarked portages and as we   come   up to the first set of rapids, I think I can squeeze through that nice flow   on   the right side there. Too small for a tandem, but I can make it in my solo.   The   guys continue on to the unmarked portage and I say nothing to them as I head   for   the rushing water. Here we go…… “WEEEEEEEE!!!” *KLANK* *KLUNK* The canoe   heaves   to the right on a submerged rock and I scrape to a stop at a 45 degree   angle. I   have to step out on another rock to pull and right the canoe. Lost my   sunglasses   but that’s it. I make it through and wait patiently for the guys on the   other   side of the portage. As the guys finish up, we notice another group of 4   right   behind us. We’re on a mission for the Lower Basswood Falls site. I want this   site bad and after missing our first choice on Monday, I’m bent on nabbing   this   one, and these people might just be after the SAME SITE!!! The amazing race   is   on. We were able to scoot through the 4 other small rapids sections and   avoid   the rest of the unmarked portages. Papa and Webb got stuck on the last one.   They   skidded onto a submerged rock and the canoe spun like a top 180 degrees with   the   rushing water pushing them around, but they masterfully pulled their way out   of   it. Kid eventually spoke with the group behind us to find out that they were   continuing up to the Day bays; it was fun while it lasted, and we just   finished   the last portage of the day. I race on ahead of the group to where I think   our   campsite is. I pull my canoe up to the island in front of the 12 rod portage   which is on the other side of the raging rapids. I jump to the other side of   the   island to look upon our desired campsite and my heart drops. It’s taken.   Bummer.   The site at the top of the falls is open though it has a very steep landing.   We   circle around the other end of the island and start setting up camp. “That’s   Canada right there gentleman,” I say to them pointing across Crooked Lake to   the   12 rod portage in the Quetico. This campsite is decent. It’s atop a small   bluff   right at the beginning of the falls. The downside is the sand flies, they’re   everywhere in small clouds that get under everything! I look for a good   branch   to throw up our food pack and notice that in about 3 other trees, there’s   about   4 ft of rope hanging from branches with frayed ends on them. The   implications of   these rope pieces doesn’t register right away. We do some exploring and   follow a   trail along the falls down to Crooked Lake and right along the campsite at   the   bottom of the falls. That evening we all decide go nab some wallies after a   nice   hot dish dinner of bbq pouch chicken and Lipton rice. We scoot around the   island   and beach the canoe at the 12 rod portage and step onto Canadian soil. I’m   the   first one to push off from the portage and start heading to the U.S. side of   the   lake. I look across to the campsite located on the other side and see a   medium   sized black bear patrolling the bluff. “GUYS GUYS! LOOK AT THE BEAR,” I yell   to   the others behind me. We manage to get pretty close to the bear before he   takes   back off into the woods. COOL. Webb nabs the first eye but can’t find   anymore   at that spot. We tool around until Papa hits another one on a drop off next   to   an island. Webb manages to grab 3 more and Papa and I hook into another 1   apiece. By the time we start heading back we’ve got 5 good eaters. We get   back   to camp about 9 and the last of the sunset is beginning to darken. I go to   the   food barrels to grab the panko, shore lunch, and seasonings. Hey, I could’ve   sworn the lid on that barrel was closed when we left…hmmm where the hell is   the   seasonings bag. Wait, the last pound of bacon is not in here, neither is the   red   beans and rice, or the bear creek soup mix. The packs are sitting under our   huge   tarp which is extending into the camp from the tree line. I look back   towards   the trees and even though the light is almost non-existent, I can just make   out   a wrapper trail leading into the woods. Something definitely got into our   food   barrel. We have 2, 20 gallon bear barrels in a pack harness. Someone, and we   have yet to determine who, only clamped the clamp to the lid of one of the   barrels, and not to the barrel AND the lid. I survey the damage back into   the   forest and alert the rest of the crew. Our best guess (even after seeing a   bear)   is that it was a raccoon, no one wanted believe it was bear. So we pick up   what   we can and fry up the fish. Well the fish might as well have been a dinner   bell,   because shortly after we finish eating, we start to hear branches breaking   by   the tarp. What ensued for the rest of the night was utter chaos. It took   till   about midnight before we determined that it really was a bear. We continued   to   hear the bear trudging around on the outskirts of camp, and a couple times   we   shone our flashlights into the woods to see a pair of beady eyes glaring   back,   what we didn’t realize is that it was really 2 bears. About midnight, I walk   over to the tarp for something that I can’t remember. The food pack is high   up   in a tree at this point. I know I was rummaging through a pack when I hear   some   rustling behind me. I turn around and shine my flashlight toward the sound   in   the woods and my light comes upon a medium size black bear with a bag of   Vigo   red beans and rice in its mouth…not 10 ft away from me. Now most people   would’ve   screamed like a little girl and ran away…which, needless to say, is exactly   what I   did.   It’s one thing to encounter a bear in the daytime where you can see its   movements and know what it’s doing, but in the dead of night, it’s a whole   different ball game. We were pretty freaked out, but spent about 2 hours   yelling, banging pots and pans, and chasing away these bears, but no matter   how   hard we tried, they always came back. At this point, I think it was Webb and   I   that were the only ones who actually saw a bear. Rob J still thinks it’s a   raccoon, Papa wouldn’t leave a 10 ft radius from the fire, and Kid refused   to   believe anything until he saw it with his own eyes. Finally at about 1am,   we’re   exhausted from the bear drama and need to get some sleep. There’s already   talk   of moving camp in the morning. So we wait till we hear another bear trudging   around and chase it back as far as you can in the middle of the night, and   we   retire hoping the damn things don’t come back.     
				
					
						Day 5 of 6
					 
				
				
					Day 5: Layover on Crooked Lake.  [paragraph break]  I awake to a branch snapping. I look at my watch and a very irritated 4am   glares   back at me. Still, I can hear something that sounds like clawing on a tree.   I   unzip the tent and look at the tree our food pack is hanging from. Sure   enough,   the bear is halfway up the tree, chewing on our bear rope. I quickly wake up   the   rest of camp. Now no one is left with any doubt, because there is definitely   a   bear in the tree. After snapping a couple pics, I start to yell at it and   bang   some pots, but it was resilient and stayed up there for a good 10 minutes   before   slowly backing down. As soon as it hit the ground I chase after it yelling   and   throwing rocks. Some of the guys (ahem, Kid) barely even stuck their head   out of   the tent to see the bear, and then promptly returned to sleep. I try and get   some rest back in the tent but I’m far too nervous to sleep. I close my eyes   and   drift into a kind of weary rest, but again am pulled out of the haze by the   sounds of shuffling and pots banging around. I look out our tent window   towards   the fire to see the biggest black bear EVER! Not even kidding, the thing had   to   be 350-400 lbs. This is definitely NOT the same bear that was in our tree 2   hours ago. “Papa, Webb, there is a giant bear 5 ft from your tent right   now.” I   look at my watch, its 6 am and there’s a significant amount of light, though   it’s a bit overcast. I watch the bear for a sec and then look across the   campsite to see Rob J taking a morning leak. As he’s standing there, back to   the   campsite and looking out across the lake, the big fella starts rumbling   towards   him and stops about 15 ft away and just stares at Rob J, sniffing the air.   “Uh   Rob, there’s a bear behind you,” I say in a loud enough whisper. Rob turns   around to see the bear watching him and says to it, “Hey, a little privacy   here   please!” You just can’t make this stuff up. I wanna get this thing out of   camp,   the last thing we want is for it to feel comfortable here. So I dash out of   camp, grab a some pots and start yelling and banging and the thing bounds up   the   hill behind camp and stops, sits down on its haunches and just stares at Rob   and   I. I take advantage in this quick, calm lapse and nab a video of the big   fella,   I was able to get about 10 ft from him. Rob snaps a couple more photos,   everyone   else is still in their tents. I start to creep closer to him and then he   turns   and starts to run away. I chase after him yelling. This time though I can   see   where I’m going and I must have chased him back at least half a mile into   the   woods before I give up pursuit. I return to camp and wake up Kid. I, he, and   Rob   J have plans to head up Crooked to see the pictographs. Webb and Papa sleep   and   after a quick breakfast of oatmeal and hot chocolate, we tell the guys that   if   they hear anything in camp, it won’t be us, then we set off up Crooked to   see   the pictographs. The water is glass and we glide up the lake. I’m keeping my   eye   open for any campsites that are free, but everything in the vicinity is   taken.   Pictographs were cool and we got some really good pictures of the bluff they   were on. The rest of the day passes without incident. We get back to camp   and   Papa, Webb, and I head out for some afternoon walleye fishing. I find a   really   nice spot just to the left of the exiting falls. A little honey hole that we   caught multiple eyes, a big fat pike, and a couple smallies. Papa caught a   HUGE   20” smally that gave him a really good fight. We head in and fry up the fish   for   lunch. This is where the term, “You don’t catch, you don’t eat,” really   comes   into play. We’d lost close to 2 days worth of food to the bears and we were   on   EXTREMELY short rations, and it really came down to catching fish if we   wanted a   solid meal…and we still had 2 days left on the trail. After a fish lunch a   couple of us head back to the tents for a late afternoon nap. At about 6pm,   Webb, Papa, and I head back out for some more fishing. It must be about 8pm   when   Kid and Rob J come barreling out to me on the lake with a wild look in their   eyes. “We gotta get out of camp like now!” says Rob J. So what happened was   after we left for fishing, Rob J and Kid stayed behind, and who comes   rumbling   back into camp but our 400lb black furry friend. Rob J chased him away about   6   times, but finally the bear came back, reared up on 2 feet, snorted, and   bluff   charged him, skidding to a stop 5 ft from him. That was it for Rob and Kid,   they   are on the bears turf now and a bluff charge is scary enough. So we round up   Webb and Papa who managed to nab a couple eyes and a decent eater smally,   and we   take the 12 rod back around the hook. As we’re coming around the island to   our   campsite, we look at the top bluff where Rob J’s tent is, and there is the   bear   standing on the bluff overlooking the lake with Rob’s tackle box in its   mouth   shaking it furiously. I’m angry, this damn bear has caused us enough   trouble. I   head toward the landing despite the adamant requests of my partners to not   go   into camp. I land the canoe, run up the rock hill and start straight for the   bear yelling at him. He sees me and takes off to the back of the campsite,   same   place he sat before. I chase him WAAAAY back again and head back to camp to   survey the damage. He tore open the screen door on Kid and I’s tent, put a   couple holes in Kid’s nice, expensive, synthetic sleeping bag, destroyed   Webb’s   camelbak, and did significant damage to a couple tackle boxes. Well it’s   about   830 and the sun is almost down, but there’s no chance we’re staying here   another   night to deal with hungry, pesky, and aggressive bears. We pack up camp in   about   20 minutes and go hunting for another site. EVERYTHING is taken. So, without   much choice, we camp on the island situated between the 2 falls, basically   it’s   the island that separates U.S. from Canada. Now this is the second year in a   row   I’ve had to camp at a non-designated. I’m not happy that we have to do this,   I’m   pretty insistent about following the Bdubs rules to a T, but we really don’t   have any other options. We fry up the fish and manage to scrummage some   mashed   potatoes and gravy out of the pack for dinner at about 10pm, we’re literally   cooking on the border marker. The 5 of us sit down at the edge of the lake   and   take in the ridiculous amount of stars in the sky, contemplating and   reminiscing   the adventures of the past 4 days. Despite all that’s happen, we still   manage to   laugh it off. We head to bed with plans to be up around sunrise for our trip   back up the Horse River and to Tin Can Mike for our last couple days.    
				If you'd like to see me chasing a 400lb black bear through the woods, you watch the video here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qq4ro0ebNZ8
					
						Day 6 of 6
					 
				
				
					Day 6: Back up the Horse River to Tin Can Mike.  [paragraph break]  We’re up at about 5:30am, eat a breakfast of oatmeal, granola bars, and   coffee/hot chocolate. Camp is broken down and we’re back on the trail by   6:15am.   We make it all the way to the end of the first portage when Rob realizes he   doesn’t have his fishing pole and reel, and we’re missing the extra paddle.   No   one remembers grabbing it so I hand the leadership and the map off to Kid   along   with my sturdy solo canoe and they push on ahead while Rob and I make a B-  line   back to our makeshift campsite to pick up his pole and the paddle. We head   back   again and actually manage to make it through almost all the rapids against   the   current. Man the Horse River is a lot of fun! As we’re nearing the last set   of   rapids, an elderly couple passes us and asks, “Is one of you Jim?” I say   that’s   me. “One of your guys dumped the canoe trying to make the rapids up ahead   and   lost the minnow bucket, I caught it floating down river and left it at the   mouth   of the portage.” We catch up to the group at the 90 rod portage from Horse   to   Tin Can Mike. The guys are waiting at the beginning of the portage for us,   and   said they hadn’t been there for more than 10 minutes. As Rob and I unload,   Papa   tells me that the group has made a unanimous decision that they would like   to go   home today. Now I REALLY don’t want to leave, but I understand the guys’   desire   to head out a day early. The last few days have been pretty epic; we’re   exhausted, sore, and hungry, so I concede. We stop at the first campsite on   Tin   Can Mike and I go to the highest point in the site and manage to get one bar   of   service, but that’s all I need. I call CBO and they said they’d have someone   out   there waiting for us. We make a quick lunch of the last of the food we have,   shake and pour pancakes, and push on for the last leg of the trip. As we   paddle   down Picket Creek to our exit point I reflect on the past 6 days. I’ve had   more   adventures on this trip then I had on the past 3 combined. We arrive at   Mudro   and chat it up with a couple guys from Indiana who said they brought 75lbs   of   beer in with them, and had just finished the last of it that morning. Wow.   CBO   arrives 10 minutes later and our trip is complete. Webb and Papa head home   and   Rob J, The Kid, and I stop in Ely for beers and burgers at The Boathouse.   Thanks   Bdub, and I’ll see you in August!  
    
  
  
  
				
						
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