Southern Reaches of Little Indian Sioux
by prettypaddle
Trip Type:
Paddling Canoe
Entry Date:
07/14/2008
Entry Point:
Little Indian Sioux River (south) (EP 9)
Exit Point:
Trout Lake (EP 1)
Number of Days:
4
Group Size:
2
Part 5 of 9
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Day 3--Little Trout Lake--Trout Lake--Pine Creek--Pine Lake
Awoken at an unseemly hour by a little red squirrel making a big racket, we lounge in the tent awhile longer. Then: a wolf howl! Off to our left there's a wolf howling! And another wolf answers from off to our right! We're in between two howling wolves! How cool is that?! We sit there grinning at one another until the howls die out and then begin our day.
We have some oatmeal and hot chocolate, break camp, and head out into the overcast morning. The creek into Trout Lake is tiny, rocky, and choked with weeds. No wonder the motorboats we can hear in the distance don't come into Little Trout. Several of the rocks now are little more green, but we are able to float (and scrape) our way through the creek and in to Trout. A large part of our time on Trout is spent staring at a little bump way out in the lake--we can't tell if it's a seagull on a rock or if we're seeing our first person of the trip.
Mystery unsolved, we continue on into Pine Creek. There are plenty of water lilies and even some of their tubers floating on the surface (pulled up by wind or wave action? uprooted by some animal?). The portage into Chad is easy to spot, but we're headed for Pine Lake today.
There's a very closed-in, private feel to the little creeks and rivers we've been paddling on this trip. I suppose there could be twenty people on the water but we'd never be able to see them with the sedges blocking our view and the zig-zagging bends shortening our line of sight. We know there are birds here though--lots of birds. We can hear them everywhere. Not just the Little Annoying Bird (which I just learned is actually a White-throated Sparrow), but lots of, um, Other Birds too. The only other one I could identify was a Red-winged Blackbird, but really, there were lots of birds.
We're nearing Pine Lake when, from a hill on our right, we hear something scrambling in the bushes. We stop paddling and watch a little fawn come prancing down the hill into the creek. Instead of crossing to the other side like we thought, the fawn starts swimming down the middle of the channel not ten feet from us. We drift to the bank and watch as it swims (and wades) right by us, around the bend, and out of site. After checking out the remains of an old bridge, we continue to Pine Lake.
There on Pine Lake we smell campfire smoke and, halfway through our third day, see our first person. Of course I didn't take a picture of the guy, but after posting pictures of all the other unusual things we've seen on the trip, I am feeling the intense urge to document this rare Homo sapiens canoeus fishermanas sighting with a photo. As we pass, Eric asks how the fishing is. The guy responds but is clearly not as enthralled with us as we are with him. We paddle on and start scoping out campsites.
The western site on the island is beautiful--lots of Norways and a few white pines--so we claim it as ours. Stopping this early is nice. We finish our lunch, set up the tent (looked like rain again), and break out the hammock for the first time this trip. Eric had been skeptical about the whole hammock idea, but swinging in the gentle breeze while looking out over the lake he has been converted... I wish I'd made him one of his own.
Eventually I'm able to drag him out of the hammock with the prospect of going fishing. Eric catches a little northern but throws it back. He catches a nice log too but we leave that for the beavers. We troll around awhile longer and he has a few nibbles, but when he snags on another log, he's not as lucky as the first time and loses his lure. I'm getting tired and we're both getting hungry so we head back to camp to start dinner.
A light rain begins to fall. The gentle patter intensifies and our noodles are starting to get a little soupy. By now we have the get-camp-cleaned-up-quick-because-it's-going-to-rain drill down pat. But the darkest clouds pass us by and we enjoy a calm, quiet evening. There's a nice little point where we watch the sun set and are entertained by three loons showing off for two others farther up the lake. A couple of guys paddle by and, grinning, apologize for catching a whopping Northern in front of our site (Eric is gracious, but I can tell he's also jealous). We skip some rocks when they've gone. Eric's pretty good considering the granite chunks he's trying to work with.
Day 3--Little Trout Lake--Trout Lake--Pine Creek--Pine Lake
Awoken at an unseemly hour by a little red squirrel making a big racket, we lounge in the tent awhile longer. Then: a wolf howl! Off to our left there's a wolf howling! And another wolf answers from off to our right! We're in between two howling wolves! How cool is that?! We sit there grinning at one another until the howls die out and then begin our day.
We have some oatmeal and hot chocolate, break camp, and head out into the overcast morning. The creek into Trout Lake is tiny, rocky, and choked with weeds. No wonder the motorboats we can hear in the distance don't come into Little Trout. Several of the rocks now are little more green, but we are able to float (and scrape) our way through the creek and in to Trout. A large part of our time on Trout is spent staring at a little bump way out in the lake--we can't tell if it's a seagull on a rock or if we're seeing our first person of the trip.
Mystery unsolved, we continue on into Pine Creek. There are plenty of water lilies and even some of their tubers floating on the surface (pulled up by wind or wave action? uprooted by some animal?). The portage into Chad is easy to spot, but we're headed for Pine Lake today.
There's a very closed-in, private feel to the little creeks and rivers we've been paddling on this trip. I suppose there could be twenty people on the water but we'd never be able to see them with the sedges blocking our view and the zig-zagging bends shortening our line of sight. We know there are birds here though--lots of birds. We can hear them everywhere. Not just the Little Annoying Bird (which I just learned is actually a White-throated Sparrow), but lots of, um, Other Birds too. The only other one I could identify was a Red-winged Blackbird, but really, there were lots of birds.
We're nearing Pine Lake when, from a hill on our right, we hear something scrambling in the bushes. We stop paddling and watch a little fawn come prancing down the hill into the creek. Instead of crossing to the other side like we thought, the fawn starts swimming down the middle of the channel not ten feet from us. We drift to the bank and watch as it swims (and wades) right by us, around the bend, and out of site. After checking out the remains of an old bridge, we continue to Pine Lake.
There on Pine Lake we smell campfire smoke and, halfway through our third day, see our first person. Of course I didn't take a picture of the guy, but after posting pictures of all the other unusual things we've seen on the trip, I am feeling the intense urge to document this rare Homo sapiens canoeus fishermanas sighting with a photo. As we pass, Eric asks how the fishing is. The guy responds but is clearly not as enthralled with us as we are with him. We paddle on and start scoping out campsites.
The western site on the island is beautiful--lots of Norways and a few white pines--so we claim it as ours. Stopping this early is nice. We finish our lunch, set up the tent (looked like rain again), and break out the hammock for the first time this trip. Eric had been skeptical about the whole hammock idea, but swinging in the gentle breeze while looking out over the lake he has been converted... I wish I'd made him one of his own.
Eventually I'm able to drag him out of the hammock with the prospect of going fishing. Eric catches a little northern but throws it back. He catches a nice log too but we leave that for the beavers. We troll around awhile longer and he has a few nibbles, but when he snags on another log, he's not as lucky as the first time and loses his lure. I'm getting tired and we're both getting hungry so we head back to camp to start dinner.
A light rain begins to fall. The gentle patter intensifies and our noodles are starting to get a little soupy. By now we have the get-camp-cleaned-up-quick-because-it's-going-to-rain drill down pat. But the darkest clouds pass us by and we enjoy a calm, quiet evening. There's a nice little point where we watch the sun set and are entertained by three loons showing off for two others farther up the lake. A couple of guys paddle by and, grinning, apologize for catching a whopping Northern in front of our site (Eric is gracious, but I can tell he's also jealous). We skip some rocks when they've gone. Eric's pretty good considering the granite chunks he's trying to work with.
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