BWCA Entry Point, Route, and Trip Report Blog
November 05 2025
Entry Point 45 - Morgan Lake
Number of Permits per Day: 1
Elevation: 1845 feet
Latitude: 48.0008
Longitude: -90.4098
Morgan Lake - 45
Dry Summer, Wet Fall (2007)
Entry Date:
September 26, 2007
Entry Point:
Ram Lake
Exit Point:
Bower Trout Lake (43)
Number of Days:
5
Group Size:
2
Emerald Lake
Breakfast of oatmeal. Actually, there appeared to be quite a few ants and bees at this site, but they didn't bother us any. A hummingbird landed on Jeremy's fishing rod after he cast his line from the rocks, and stared at him a few seconds, then took off as he tried to slowly reach for his camera. I guess he was friendly but camera shy. He came by and visited us a couple more times during the day, and Jeremy got his picture working on the flowers next to the fire grate.
Spent the day lazing away and watching the sun burn off the clouds. Took a walk over to the Sioux-Hustler Trail, which passes close by this campsite, and followed it a ways to see what it was like. It was especially interesting to us because we'd planned to be using at least a portion of it to travel between Rangeline and Pageant if we could make it that far.
We tried catching fish for a while with no luck, then figured if you can't beat them, might as well join them, so we went swimming for a bit. Water was cool, but I got used to it pretty quick. Amazingly, there were a lot of small fish that seemed to be real interested in gnawing on us. Can't figure out why there weren't any that wanted to gnaw on the lures at all. Oh well.
Also spent some time taking care of some housekeeping tasks like cleaning clothes and hanging all the wet stuff up to dry from the day before. Went through and inventoried the food bags and realized we'd been eating too much tuna for lunch, so we'd have to be more careful. We had grits for lunch, because we'd brought plenty extra of them.
In the afternoon the wind finally started blowing from the west and it rained for a very short while, but then cleared back up again. We tried for fish again, but still no luck. Fixed spaghetti and meat sauce for dinner. Afterwards, I got a fire going and while I was gathering some extra wood to leave on the pile, we heard wolves howling. Jeremy and I were trying to figure out how far away they were. They sounded close, but who knew how close? They were in the direction of the portage to Hustler, but I don't know how far that sound might have carried. From Hustler? Or maybe on the other side of Ruby? I was thinking no more than 1.5 miles away, but Jeremy was thinking maybe more just due to the way sound carries. But I thought there wasn't any big water for the sound to carry over, so maybe they were closer. Anyway, it was very cool to hear them again, even closer than near Tiger Bay. It felt very "right" to hear them at nighttime out in a less populated area. They moved farther away, but we still heard them off and on throughout the night.
Emerald Lake, Hustler Lake, Hustler River, Posse Lake, Lucky Finn Lake
We had a breakfast of grits and got a late start again (9:30), leaving Emerald and headed for Rangeline. We'd spent some time poring over the map and debating the pros and cons of which way we might try, and the final decision was that rather than take the 280 rod portage into Lynx and then start bushwhacking north into Yodeler and Achundo, we'd try heading north up the Hustler River, cut west over to Lucky Finn and then southwest down Rangeline Creek to Rangeline. Going through Yodeler would have the advantage of knowing that someone had successfully gone that way before, but since we had the kayaks and could float in shallower water, we reasoned that we would find more navigable water heading up the Hustler River. If we were lucky, almost the whole way, with just very short bushwhacks in between.
We were VERY lucky, but unfortunately it was all bad luck. There was almost NO navigable water the entire way. As a matter of fact, there was so little water, that we never bothered to unpack our packs, but rather just tossed them in the seat of the kayak and then sat on top of them to paddle, pry and pull our way across the 20-30' of 'navigable' water here and there. Or even stood on them and poled along like a gondola, so we could try to see a path through the swamp grass. I'm not sure what the grass was called, but I named it razorgrass after slicing myself on it. Within an hour, both of our forearms were bleeding from multiple cuts received when pulling ourselves through the grass, but we seemed to make the best progress by grabbing clumps of it and pulling ourselves along, or poling along by separating our paddles into 2 halves like trekking poles, or the previously mentioned gondola style. Although standing in a kayak is not recommended unless you have REALLY good balance or as in our case, the waterway is so narrow that you can't help but land on soil.
This was a long hard day's work, and although we did travel some small distance, I would not recommend this way to anyone else, especially at this time of the year with the water level as low as it was. By the end of the day, we were beat up, bloody (I'll carry a scar as a memento), and thoroughly worn out, travelling a total of about 5 miles on the day. Both of us went for a swim. Actually, Jeremy did a face plant in about a foot of water, which I thought was rather amusing until he realized that his camera was in his pocket and had gotten soaked. Not too much later, I went in while trying to cross over top of a downed tree in a spot where the channel was about 3' wide and evidently 6' or more deep, because I went completely under except for catching myself on the tree. Jeremy held the laughter back with an incredible display of self-control, and only said that he wished he could have gotten a picture of my face, because my expression was the most perfect mix of surprise and fury he'd ever seen.
I almost neglected to mention that as we'd been travelling through, we'd seen plenty of leeches in the water. I guess it would be a way to illustrate how tough the day was by saying that at the beginning of the day, we tried to avoid slogging through waist-deep water because we really had no desire to be picking leeches off of exceptionally tender areas, but it wasn't too long before we had reached the point where we were so worn out we couldn't have cared less, and in fact, looked forward to the places where we could actually WALK, even if it was in leech infested water, rather than negotiate obstacles.
I'm also neglecting to mention the beaver. They've been really active in this area. I've always wondered how much they really understand about what they're doing when they dam an area up. Do they intentionally drop the logs in certain places in certain ways, or do they just drop them more at random? From what we could see, they just dropped as many logs as they possibly could to hinder our progress. No rhyme or reason, just every tree in the area on it's side, in every possible direction, so we'd have to climb over/crawl under it. It was about 2 miles of obstacle course.
Our battle cry for the day was "Norske Nook!" and it never failed to bring a grin from Jeremy's face. We promised ourselves that come hell or high water (or low water as the case may be), we were going to treat ourselves to another meal and a piece of pie at the Norske Nook if we survived the bushwhacking.
We skipped lunch partly to conserve on food, and partly because we were getting concerned about the lack of distance we'd travelled. It was extremely difficult to determine our position on the map, because some of the features just weren't there. ALL of the small water features that were on the map along the Hustler River were either non-existent, or so shallow that their shapes had changed, sometimes dramatically. Posse Lake was the only one we could identify with some certainty, and that was only a quarter of the way in from Hustler. After that, we had to scout around a good bit to try and keep track of where we were (and find ways around beaver and boulder obstacles). I must say that we did do a good job of that, but it took up some time. Somewhere around 5 pm, we reached Lucky Finn with packs and decided to call it a day. By the time we'd gone back and gotten the boats the last quarter mile and set up camp, it was closer to 7pm.
We were worn out, but the weather cooperated with us, and we didn't need to set up the tent or tarp. Just strung the hammocks up and slept in them, although with head nets to protect from the bugs. They hadn't been bad yet on the trip, but there was a definite increase in number along the swampy area. Turned out we didn't really need the head nets though. Before bed, we grabbed a quick dinner, choosing our favorite of Beef Stroganoff to celebrate making it past the Hustler River. We didn't have a fire that night, as we were in the PMA, and I wanted to leave zero trace. Since we didn't have the time to clean up a fire to where there was no trace of it, we didn't bother.
Friday Day 3 Lakes (Winchell, Gaskin)
What a gorgeous morning, the only day of the trip that didn't include rain. I took some pictures of the sunrise that look pretty good. We decided to make this our rest day and do a little exploring. A little exploring ended up being a good 7-8 miles of paddling with a little bit of portaging tossed in. We investigated some of the water inlets and outlets for Lake Winchell and did a bit of lure wetting. I'd say fishing, but we'd already caught our one fish for the trip on Thursday. "Lure wetting" sets the correct tone for our expectations.
Late in the afternoon, we decided it was nap time. This was the only day that the hammock was put to use. I'm not quite sure how Chris and his 10 year old son Michael managed to hang his orange hammock in May, but apparently Michael's expertise is required for the feat, because Chris and Joel didn't seem up to the task. Let's just say that the hammock set up time was probably longer than Chris's nap time. I left for the tent to take my nap, Chris prepared for his in the hammock. Not fully confident with the hammock entrance and exit procedures, we set up a series of signals should he require help extricating himself.
This was one of those gorgeous, peaceful, uneventful days that characterize one of the main reasons we head to the boundary waters area. Uneventful, however, makes for poor story fodder. 
Saturday Day 4 Lakes (Winchell, Wanihigan, Grassy, Mulligan, Lily, Brule, Brule Bay, Vernon, Swan)
Repeat after me, wet, cool (I reserve Cold for when it snows), windy, muddy… and that was the trip to the latrine. The trip plan for Saturday was fairly aggressive. So we started the day with cold cereal and broke camp early. Well not as early as I initially tried to send us out. You see, when we went to bed I'd made the statement that we should get going when the sun came up because we had a long way to travel. Chris agreed. Well, I woke up and it had started to get lighter out, so I figured the sun would be up soon. I began to get dressed and rustle about. Chris woke up and asked, "What in the world are you doing?". I told him it was getting lighter out so I thought I'd get up. He graciously informed me that it was the middle of the night and to go back to bed. I stuck my head out the tent door. Sure enough, moon and stars. Bright moon, but still, just moon and stars. There must have been a break in the clouds. I went back to sleep…
Once the sky did actually get brighter via the sun, we were on our way under a gray sky. As we got to the first portage, it began to rain. It was one of those short portages that follow a small rapids beneath cedar trees. My favorite kind. Well when we got to the other side with our first load, the wind began to blow and it started to rain harder. We decided to put our rain pants on after moving the second load and wait out the heavy rain under the cover of trees. My rain pants slide on quickly. Chris begins to grumble that he can't get his boot through his rain pant leg. Why would they make rain pants that force you to take off your shoes in order to get dressed? So he sits on a rock and carefully removes his boots one at a time, slips his foot through the leg and quickly into his boot to keep his feet dry. Chris re-laces the boots, and tries to pull up "his" rain pants. Turns out "his" rain pants are really Michael's rain pants (Michael being his 10 year old son) and Chris can't pull them up beyond his knees without losing circulation to his feet. We have a little chuckle (belly laugh) over that one. Chris foregoes rain pants for the rest of the trip. Apparently it is difficult to portage with your knees bound together.
Once the wind died down (notice I didn't say the rain let up) we worked our way over portages and lakes until we reached the portage into Grass lake. In this case Grass was mud stew. The end of the portage was a good 75 yards short of water. Between the water and the end of the portage was a field of soupy looking mud. We surmized later, that the large amounts of rain water earlier in the month must have washed out a beaver dam, draining most of the lake. We chose to bushwhack along the edge of the lake alternating between fighting through trees or slopping through the shoreline mud. In this manner we portaged, to the portage out of Grass/mud Lake. It was here that we met a couple of moose hunters on the there way in for a second attempt at a moose for the fall. Good luck to them.
We worked our way down to Brule lake and found a spot to eat lunch on an island campsite as it started to rain harder. After lunch we paddle in the rain across the expanse of Brule Lake. The portages didn't need the extra rain. They were already squishy with excess water. The only bright spot to the travel conditions was that it was not cold. Once off Brule, the rain subsided. For the rest of the day, the rain was much lighter and intermittent.
Once we reach Swan Lake, we pick an elevated camp site with a unique entrance. The location to get out of the canoe is tucked off to the side in a small alcove of trees. A short path connected the landing area to the camp site. The tent and tarp were set up for one last time. The dry spot under the tarp was very much appreciated. The Noah tarp was a good purchase. In this case we set up the tarp over the camp fire grate as we did not plan to build a fire. For a final time supper is prepared by the light of a head-lamp. The soup and grilled cheese are something easily prepared with the camp stove. This had been a tiring paddle day, we do not linger over the camp stove once supper is consumed.
Just a quick note about this camp site. Wow, was the ground soft for the tent pad. Exhaustion and soft ground, nice combination. Only draw back was that one of the grommets on the tent pushed through the strap. Chris did a nice job securing the tent poles so that the tent stayed up all night. 
Sunday Day 5 Lake (Swan, Skidaway, Dugout, Marshall, Bower Trout)
This is exit day. Still had a good bit of rain as we paddle. Two Bald Eagle sightings highlight our paddling. On the first we spot an eagle perched high above us in a tree on the hillside. The height of the tree accentuated by the fact that blow down and fire have been through the area in the past couple of years. The eagle watches our entire passage across the small lake. Our second eagle sighting is made impressionable by the fact that it is on a shoreline rock eating something. As we paddle quietly closer, the eagle takes off carrying the entrails of whatever it was eating. Very cool.
We make our way to the exit point on Bower Trout Lake. This is the first time that we've ever tried exiting at a different point than where we went into the BWCA. In this case our two entry points are only a mile or two apart so Joel heads off with the canoe on the portage. At the parking lot he sets the canoe down and makes his way to the truck parked at the other entry point. Every five steps he checks for the vehicle keys, paranoid that he forgot them back with Chris. Images of getting to the car only to find that the keys are a mile away dance through his head.
A quick drive back to pick up Chris and we are on our way to Grand Marais for our long awaited pizza at Swen and Ole's. Emphasis on "long-awaited". The Vikings are playing the Packers on T.V. We watch the second and third quarters while we wait in line and wait for our pizza. Once served, it is delicious. 
