I am getting tired reading about politics, health and borders. I would rather read about Quetico. I thought I would start a thread where you can share your worst and best Quetico memories. I am certain that the worst will be easy but the best will be hard because there are so many.
My worst memory happened 44 years ago on my first night of my first trip into Quetico. I entered at Lerome and spent my first night at the left point below Sue Falls. I had not camped in years and it was my first solo. It was a beautiful night and I tied my canoe to a tree and left it in the water. I put my tent up but incorrectly. In the middle of the night the wind picked up and it rained sideways for 48 hours. I had rivers running through my tent. When it ended my canoe had sunk and river portages had knee deep water. Apparently it was the worst storm in fifty years. But I survived and kept going.
My best memory was going into an undisclosed lake twice. The lake is difficult to portage in and out. The last time I was there I fished about ten hours over two days and caught over 150 rod bending bass. Since I am not an expert fisherman this was a real treat and a lasting memory.

I'll jump in on this one... there are so many. I'll try to narrow it down to a couple. Both memories happened on our favorite Quetico lake.

My worst memory involved a friend who had come along with my two buddies and me. He came with us a couple times and I think it was his second trip. We had just finished cooking fish and one of us set the pan of hot oil around the corner of the fire pit (you know, so nobody would step on it. No idea why we put it there.)

You already know what happened next. He stepped on the handle and splashed hot oil all over his lower leg. He was howling. We got him in the lake and cooled his leg, then carefully cleaned and wrapped it. It was already late, at least 9:00pm, so we weren't paddling out. He was going to have to suck it up and make it through the night. In the morning, he had a lot of big blisters, so we packed up and headed out. We had about five hours or so to the trucks. His wife worked for a plastic surgeon so he wanted to wait to be treated until he got home. All good now. Just some white skin scars.

There are so many good ones, but the one that jumps out was on one of the first trips with my (now) 31 year old son. He was probably 14 or 15 at the time. We'd had a great week of fishing and it was our last night. We both were having fun, but for this Dad, it was more pleasing to see him having the time of his life catching walleyes. We were about ready to call it a trip, paddle back to camp and pack up some things in preparation of paddling out in the morning, but my son said, "I have to catch just ONE MORE FISH!" I reeled up and just sat in the stern watching him. About three casts later, he set the hook into a nice 20" walleye. He was beaming... and I was wiping a tear from my eye.

I like the thread.... I'll see if I have the time to post.

Worst was last summer capsizing with my son at Chatterton Falls and losing some of my fishing gear.

Best would be related to my all time favourite site on Sturgeon where my buddies and I first stayed in 2001. I always remembered that site and returned last summer with my son. When we arrived, a bald eagle was perched on a rock like a sentinel. On both occasions, Sturgeon was like glass the entire time and we stayed two nights.

It was interesting to compare photos from 19 years ago and observe the changes in the flora. One tree that I used for a ridge line last summer was just a sapling in 2001. There was clearly a small fire too. Water was higher by about 1' in 2001.

Great thread.

Worst experience was when I was in a solo canoe and I thought I could beat a thunderstorm while crossing Burt Lake. I really puckered up when half-way across from the shore to the campsite on the island an extremely loud and very close thunderclap buffeted me. At that point I paddled like my life depended on it, battling sudden white caps and strong wind gusts as well as sideways rain. I made it, but I learned some lessons that day.

Best experience is tough to choose. I think it was the time when on another solo trip I was able to bushwack to see the pictographs off Montgomery Lake on Montgomery Creek. It wasn't easy to get there, but the hike to the spot was beautiful. Some of the best dappled light filtered through pine trees that draped over a pristine field of green, pillow-soft looking caribou moss I have ever seen. Time stopped and I was transported back to when the pictograph was drawn, which who knows when but I like to think of being 300 to a thousand years ago. I sat on a rock right where one caribou was drawn and thought that the artist who drew this also sat on this same rock to admire it, as there is no other place to really sit in the area. Great moment and would love to get back there someday.

Worst experience was paddling out a partner to Atikokan for a torn ACL. I had a lot of bad trips with him and I have written about it over the years. Those days are gone.
Another bad trip was two years ago when I dumped in Sturgeon narrows and a life preserver saved my life. It was my first dump in thousands of miles and countless trips.

Best trip was a solo from Pickeral Lake in the Q to Fall Lake in the BWCA. The next best trip will be the one I take this year if they let me in!
Tom

My worst memory of Quetico is from the Trouser to Cache portage. We were single-walking; my wife was in front and carrying the 65 pound gear/food pack when she went thigh-deep in moosemuck. Couldn't move and couldn't get the pack off. I put the canoe and my pack down, pulled the pack off her and out of the muck, then leaned it against a small nearby tree. Just as I had Tia free of the muck, she shouted "hornets"--the tree I propped her pack against held a football-sized nest just above head level. My head. Got a couple stings before I could escape, then had to wait for them to settle down to retrieve the pack.

Best memory is from Delahey in August of 2018. It was beautiful weather and we had the coveted island campsite and the lake to ourselves. The evening's entertainment was reading notes from the island's "pickle jar". Imagine our delight in finding a note we'd deposited there in July of 1988!

TZ

TrailZen: "Best memory is from Delahey in August of 2018. It was beautiful weather and we had the coveted island campsite and the lake to ourselves. The evening's entertainment was reading notes from the island's "pickle jar". Imagine our delight in finding a note we'd deposited there in July of 1988!


TZ"

Any dirty old poems still in that jar ?

Stumpy: "

TrailZen: "Best memory is from Delahey in August of 2018. It was beautiful weather and we had the coveted island campsite and the lake to ourselves. The evening's entertainment was reading notes from the island's "pickle jar". Imagine our delight in finding a note we'd deposited there in July of 1988!



TZ"

Any dirty old poems still in that jar ?"

There once was a man from Nantucket...

Oh never mind

I'm thinking of the time when I was trying to catch up to a foursome heading into Russel from Sturgeon narrows. The snow melt in late May was considerable and the water levels were high. I tried unsuccessfully three times to paddle up the rapids just to get to the one portage that would take me to Russel. I wish I had mounted a camera on shore to watch me each time trying to paddle faster until I inevitably.....slid back down the stream thwarted and rejected by the fast-flowing current.....

A best time might have been tackling the height-of-land portage out of Antoine in the rain. It was hard but I appreciated the challenge and the portage is beautiful....and steep...

My worst memories were of portages on my second ever Quetico trip. I had some new guys along that year and we only had two portage packs mixed in with backpacking packs for the other guys. Inevitably, the portage packs ended up waaay heavier than the other packs since they just had a lot more space. We took two unmaintained portages (Point to the unnamed pond west of Isabella through a waist deep bog and Grey to Dell down a creek and bushwacked out into Dell) due to them still being marked on either the Fisher or McKenzie maps I was using. I learned my lesson about the Chrismar map being the map against which other maps must be checked!

It's hard to pick out a single favorite memory. There's just a certain feeling to sitting around a campfire out there on a rocky point as the sun sets. It's easy to close your eyes and be out there in your mind for a bit.

Or perhaps my favorite memory was taking a 30 year old Hula Popper from my deceased grandfather's tackle box out there and using it with a leader and catching my personal best 20" 5 lb smallmouth at dusk on Kawnipi. That was pretty great.

Worst was totaling my brand new Sawyer Autumn Mist on a solo trip in 1988. It was in a flooded creek coming out of Isabella. It wrapped around a rock and luckily a couple towed it out while I rode in their canoe.

The best trip was a 11 night solo in 2011. Some very cool wildlife experiences. Hearing a moose swimming and feeding underwater for minutes at a time as I lay in my hammock after dark 1st night on South Lake.

12 loons feeding together causing gulls to dive into the water when the baitfish were herded to the surface on Burt.

2 eagles flying top speed over Kett Lake to clasp talons and tumble to the water before untangling and flying off over the tree tops. Yeah, great weather the whole time too. It was early September.

Worst was the first. 19 years old and almost no time in a canoe. Conned my first girlfriend into going as well. Small craft warnings out the day we limped back into the outfitter. Swore I would never waste a weeks vacation from my new job on a damned canoe trip. On the way home I was rambling to myself ( she was giving me the silent treatment) about what I would do differently if ever foolish enough to go back. Been back every year since then.

The worst was on Chatterton Lake at the downstream side of Split Rock falls. We were paddling up to the portage on the left side of the falls in an empty canoe as we were on a day trip from our camp on Russel. The portage is hard to see from the water since there is a large rock self in front of it. We paddled up an eddy along the left side until we were right at the base of the falls behind a rock out crop. We got out of the canoe, looked around and realized we’d missed the portage. As we slid the canoe out to turn around, the water from the eddy was sweeping into the main current and it took us with it, broadside into the falls. The water in early May is very cold.

The best was on the second night of my first trip (1966). I think it was on Silence Lake. It was near dusk, the lake was perfectly still and mirrored all of the surroundings on its surface. The loons were wailing. I’ve experienced many similar nights since. However, that was the first time, and it was a mystical experience. It changed something in me.

MossBack: " Worst was the first. 19 years old and almost no time in a canoe. Conned my first girlfriend into going as well. Small craft warnings out the day we limped back into the outfitter. Swore I would never waste a weeks vacation from my new job on a damned canoe trip. On the way home I was rambling to myself ( she was giving me the silent treatment) about what I would do differently if ever foolish enough to go back. Been back every year since then. "

Was that the last date with her??

tumblehome: "

Stumpy: "

TrailZen: "Best memory is from Delahey in August of 2018. It was beautiful weather and we had the coveted island campsite and the lake to ourselves. The evening's entertainment was reading notes from the island's "pickle jar". Imagine our delight in finding a note we'd deposited there in July of 1988!

TZ"

Any dirty old poems still in that jar ?"

There once was a man from Nantucket...

Oh never mind"

The one of the girl in the graveyard was the worst.

Worst Quetico Memory: Imbedding a Rapala with not one but two sets of treble hooks deep in my scalp while fishing in the middle of the Q. This incident necessitated cutting the trip short so I could get to the hospital in Ely to have said Rapala removed. The Doctors laughed and told everyone within earshot that I had caught "The Big One!"
Best Quetico Memory: Fishing with Stumpy and another friend on the exact same lake on a previous trip. In a half hour span of time I hooked and lost a Smallmouth we estimated at 8lbs (It jumped right next to the canoe allowing us clear sight of it). Within seconds of that our friend hooked and then landed a 47 inch Pike that maxed out a De- Liar scale at 28 pounds and bent the De-Liar hook out of shape. After releasing that fish Stumpy then hooked and landed a 44 inch Pike that would have gone around 23-24 pounds. Hard to beat that kind of excitement.

Yodeler: "Worst Quetico Memory: Imbedding a Rapala with not one but two sets of treble hooks deep in my scalp while fishing in the middle of the Q. This incident necessitated cutting the trip short so I could get to the hospital in Ely to have said Rapala removed. The Doctors laughed and told everyone within earshot that I had caught "The Big One!"
Best Quetico Memory: Fishing with Stumpy and another friend on the exact same lake on a previous trip. In a half hour span of time I hooked and lost a Smallmouth we estimated at 8lbs (It jumped right next to the canoe allowing us clear sight of it). Within seconds of that our friend hooked and then landed a 47 inch Pike that maxed out a De- Liar scale at 28 pounds and bent the De-Liar hook out of shape. After releasing that fish Stumpy then hooked and landed a 44 inch Pike that would have gone around 23-24 pounds. Hard to beat that kind of excitement."

That smallmouth jumped clear over the bow of the canoe, as I recall.... I have never seen a bigger smallmouth, and I've never seen a bigger pike than that our buddy (Cary) caught. & that's after 89 canoe trips, hundreds of day trips, and 7 years working at CBO.

Worst…boy right now in the current situation I’d love to have my “worst” Quetico situation or trip :)

Worst: 2011 Trip to Sarah Lake. Plan was Prairie to Sarah first day then go to McIntrye-Burt-Marj-Joyce-Kash and back….Made it to North Bay and was exhausted…camped. Next day made it to Sarah and thought we were going to die. Then started running a fever…obviously picked up a virus on the way up…was miserable in the middle of no where in 80 degree weather…I remember thinking I’d never make it out. We stayed o n Sarah…the positive is we caught a ton of trout. Battled one big one for 30-40 minutes which spooled me and broke off.

After 4 days decided to back track out…fished our way out of Sarah and had so m,any trout we just camped on the island right before the Portage to Side. Also just scared to tackle the route as we still had the memories of how exhausted we were on the way in.

Finally left and it was so easy :) Finally recovering from whatever illness we got.

Probably doesn’t sound bad, but on the way in I just felt so physically weak and exhausted I was fearful of leaving. I thought I might not physically be able to leave. That feeling of helplessness is terrible.

T