On another thread, KarlBAndersen1 mentioned about it being a small world. Several years ago, my wife and I had just finished the short portage from Brule to South Temperance. As we paddled down the creek toward the lake, we met another canoe with a man and his wife. We stopped to give them room to pass and to say hi. They said they had been out for five days and hadn't seen anyone.

The guy asked if there was anything new in the world. I told him not much except they were trying to burn down Sequoia National Park. His wife said, that's getting pretty close to home. I asked, where are you from? Turns out they live in Yosemite National Park. We live 25 miles south of that park. We sat there and talked about people we new and places we ate in Oakhurst, which is just south of Yosemite. Small world!

That is amazing that you ran into someone who lived close to your home.
A few years ago when I leased a cabin north of Ely the couple that owned the cabin next door lived a block from me in Stillwater 250 miles away. We were neighbors in both places.

Haha now that is truly crazy.

My father always brings up the story of him doing a really long portage many years ago and he found a really nice Pendleton shirt and no one to be found so he picked it up. Years later he was around a fire somewhere wearing it with a group of people and one of the guys says "hey that is my shirt". My father says prove it and the guy responded saying my initials are on inside the sleeve cuffs which they were.

Wow, those are some wild stories!! Mine is not BW related. In high school I dated a guy that had the same birthday as me... who it turns out was born in the same town as me... and at the same hospital as me!

Sixteen years later and 200 miles away, we ended up seated next to one another in class. We figured it was meant to be. Eventually, I realized what a scumbag he was and that coincidence is only what you make of it!

That is also insanely crazy prettypaddle. Too bad he was a scumbag. Would have been a great conversation starter.

What great stories! Prettypaddle, one also from high school.

On my way back from a BW trip, I was west of Lovelock, NV. There is a rest area where Hwy 95 turns south off I-80. I was in our camper and about ready to leave when another camper parked next to mine. They were from Wisconsin. I grew up in Wisconsin. We got to talking and found out they lived in Neenah. I lived in Menasha. Turns out one of the lady's best friends was a school mate of mine. Took me an hour to get back on the road!!

"It's a small world! But I wouldn't want to sheet rock it!!"

This last July, I went on a solo backpacking trip through Pukaskwa Park in Canada. I was on the trail for a week. I finished up on an early Saturday morning and got back to my motorcycle at 9 am. As I am taking off my pack and fiddling with my motorcycle, the guy in the car next to me asked where in Minnesota I was from. When I said St. Paul, he and his wife said, we are from St. Paul too! I said my street address and he said his address....a house about 2 blocks away from me.

Small world indeed.

Speaking of scum bags… I once worked with a guy who stole a snowmobile from Voyager Village near Webb Lake, WI and brought it back to his house on the east side of St Paul. Shortly after, the cops showed up at work and arrested him. It turns out that the person he stole it from lived a couple blocks away. The owner regularly drove past his house and happened to recognize his property through an open garage door.

So sometimes the world can be ironic, too. And just.

I met a guy in the sticks of Alaska a couple years ago. We got to talking and he was from the Indian Village two miles from where I lived in Minnesota.

We soon discovered that my best friend, who was best man in my wedding, was also best man in his wedding. He had been in AK for 40+ years and I knew many of his relatives, but had never met him before.

When I was four years old, I cut off part of my thumb in a bicycle chain while the bike was upside down and someone was turning the pedals.

Fast forward 40+ years... I'm in a First Aid/CPR/AED course at a local hospital. The lady doing the training kept giving me a glance once in a while. On about the third night of the class, she asked me if I remembered her, to which I replied no. She proceeded to tell me... you guessed it... that she was the one turning the pedals on the bike when I cut the end of my thumb off. She said she ran home and cried for two days! We both had a good laugh.

When I was in sixth grade, on the last day of school, we left Wichita, KS for our cabin near Park Rapids, MN. This was toughly 900 miles. The next day we stopped in Park Rapids for gas before heading to the cabin. I got out to stretch my legs and came face to face with one of my buddies from school who I had just yesterday said goodbye to. Neither of us had any idea where the other was headed. It was quite the shock.

On a turbined Cessna float plane on a flight from Fairbanks into the Alaska bush about 5000 miles from home, the plane landed at our one room, ramshackle camp and was met by a guy wading out in the water who grabbed the tie out line on the pontoon. Before I could even say "Hello", he inquired whether I happened to have an extra bottle of liquor with me that I could spare. Sorry, no spare liquor, buddy. And it was then that I found out he lived just a few miles from me down in the mid-Atlantic. I even knew where his business was located and had driven by there many times. He flew out on the same plane, never saw him again.

Fast forward thirty years, and a guy came by my office to look at a piece of equipment I had for sale. We had never met, but had many mutual interests, and it turned out during a long rambling conversation that he managed a large ag operation at one time which also featured exclusive guided hunts. Yup, you guessed it... one of his part time guides was the same guy I met in the Alaska bush 30 years earlier. Long gone, he died in an accident about five years after I met him. When I asked about the alcohol part, he said "Oh yeah, he was definitely known to take a drink". I have to admit, it raised questions in my mind about his "accident". Anyway, R.I.P.

You folks sure have some interesting stories. You can't make this stuff up!

When my kids were small, they wanted to play baseball. They started in the farm league, ages around five. So, dad became a coach. On our team, we had a set of twin boys. Their dad helped when he could. He was a pharmacist. He used to tell me how lucky I was to have the job I had, always working outside in such an exciting career.

His sons moved on to Little League the next year so I didn't see Gil as much. I found out later, he quit his job and moved away.

About 15 years later, in 2000, the last year I worked, I was sent to Idaho to a fire. The Forest Service had so many fires going they ran out of incident management teams. They asked California if they could provide a team. I left home at 0300 and was in the middle of nowhere in Idaho and had to stop for gas. As I was walking back to my truck, I heard someone call my name. I don't know anybody around here so I kept walking. Heard it again, but closer. I turned around and there was Gil. He had quit and moved to this little town in Idaho that had one pharmacist. He had also become the volunteer fire chief of that small town. It was good to see him. He said he had the best of both worlds!!

I was sitting in a bar outside Fort Lewis in Washington and got to talking to another soldier. Come to find out he was like a second or third cousin. First time/last time I saw him. That side of the family ain't so tight.

Mike

Far from the BWCA, in a conversation with a table mate on a cruise out of Singapore last winter, it came up that his dad had been shot down over Belgium in WW II and spent 18 months in a German prison camp. My wife’s dad was shot down over Germany and spent two and a half years in a German prison camp, both piloting B52s.

When we googled the names they were in barracks next to each other in lift stalag one and may have even known each other. I’m still not sure I would have believed it had I not seen the prison rosters.

Boeing B-52 Stratofortress ??

OR

North American B-25 Mitchell ??

MikeinMpls: "I was sitting in a bar outside Fort Lewis in Washington and got to talking to another soldier. Come to find out he was like a second or third cousin. First time/last time I saw him. That side of the family ain't so tight. "

I used to live right by there! I’m not that cousin though - I know my extended family really well.

I met a family once who really took a liking to me and had me over for dinner and time on their boat, only to later find that she had been a fifth grade student of my grandfather and one of his favorites at that.

jhb8426: " Boeing B-52 Stratofortress ??

OR

North American B-25 Mitchell ??"

My mistake. He was piloting a B-17. Not sure why I was thinking a B52.

I have another one that I'd like to share.

I worked for a fairly large company in Wisconsin. One of our competitors was going bankrupt and I was asked to be part of a team to travel around and help assess their assets as we wanted to buy them out. These assets were in multiple states and involved the use of our company jet.

Our first stop was in Oklahoma to pick up a couple of folks from a sister plant there. One of the two people getting aboard sat next to me and as we took off I introduced myself and asked where he was from. He indicated that he lived in OK but was originally from a small town in central WI. I replied that I had some property about ten miles from there. I indicated that our property was just off of a certain road. He said their property (which his father still owned) was off of the same road. I said that the road didn't go through and came to a tee and that at the end of a short dead end road was where our 80 acres started. He said the exact same thing. I said that there was an old homestead there that had burned down. He said the exact same thing and that his aunt died in the fire. I asked him if we were brothers and separated at birth?

Although our properties are separated by ten miles the similarities are uncanny. He and his wife eventually transferred to WI and currently live a few miles from us. He eventually bought their old homestead property from his father and I helped with a few building projects there. We are still very good friends and frequently visit each other, both at home and when we are "up north".

I guess some things are just meant to be! .........Mike

This one won't seem nearly as unusual after reading all of yours, but I think it may be my best "small world" story.

We take each of our grandchildren on a "Grandparent Vacation" in the summer. Six years ago in June of 2013 we were standing in line at the Algoma Railway boarding area in Sault Ste. Marie, ONT, when I heard the people in line right in front of me discussing where they were from. One man said, "Well, I'm from a tiny town in St. Joe County, Michigan, but you would never have heard of it." My ears perked up when the second person asked "What town?" and he replied "White Pigeon."

I grew up in White Pigeon, spent my first eighteen years there, and graduated from high school there. I looked again at the man, and interrupted their conversation to ask, "Who are you?" He grinned and said his name. He was a classmate of mine in the class of 1963, and we were both going to be attending our 50th class reunion later that month! His wife, who was with him, was in the class right after ours and I knew her also. Of course, once I got a good look at them, I realized that I would have recognized them if they were looking in my direction. We had a laugh about it then, and also when we saw each other the next time at the class reunion.

Just this summer on a portage in the BW, I ran into a kid I know through my son's running club.

It's very weird - in a place where you come across so few people, that someone you actually do come across is an acquaintance. And we're not from MN or anywhere particularly close.