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 6 of 9
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Day 4--Pine Lake--Trout Lake--Vermilion Lake
Another beautiful morning. We have more oatmeal and hot chocolate for breakfast and can tell already that it's going to be a warm day. After taking pictures of the nifty marshmallow mushrooms (which we decided not to roast over the fire or put in our hot chocolate), we pack our things and get another early start.
The lake narrows and turns swampy as we approach the portage. It looks like a great place for a moose--in fact most of the areas we've been this trip look like prime moose habitat. I guess I don't think like a moose. We do see--something--though, swimming in the little bay. It kind of looks like a big frog... We get closer and see that there's a lily pad swimming across the lake! Huh? It swims in front of the canoe and now we see a little muskrat with a big mouthful of lily pads.
Just past this is the start of the 270-rod portage to Trout. The sight of a split-log path winding through the marsh is a glorious thing to behold. Past the marsh the underbrush crowds the path and soaks us with dew from the waist down. Compared to the portages we've been on though, a little dew is nothing. Eric fortuitously drops a bag by a patch of blueberries. When we go back to retrieve it, we're thrilled to find a precious handful of very blue blueberries instead of the hundreds of greenberries which have been taunting us throughout the trip. The mosquitoes are enjoying our berry-picking too, so Eric pockets the berries, we complete the portage, and shove out onto the lake to savor our find.
The water in Trout is clear and we can see fish swimming around jumbles of old logs (which we assume are remnants of the logging days). I go from watching fish to watching the ripples circle out from the drips off my paddle. The ensuing conversation flows from wave propagation, to Polynesians navigating the ocean based on the interference patterns created by islands in the path of waves, and all the way to the spontaneous generation of particle pairs and the apparent emission of information from a black hole. Physicists know so much cool stuff.
We're at the portage to Vermilion in no time. A short carry and we're in civilization again. We realize that we just went an entire trip without meeting anyone on a portage (that's over a thousand rods of trail without seeing another person) and that the only people in canoes we saw were on Pine Lake. We go back to look at the falls and then shove off for the long paddle to the public boat landing. Fortunately it's a calm day so we don't have to battle the wind (though it does make for some warm paddling). It's kind of interesting to see all of the cabins on the shore that are boat-access only. We see a handful of motorboats--mostly fisherman, a couple of powerboats, and one boat towing a water skier--but there aren't nearly as many people out as we thought there would be.
We're the only canoe in sight and I feel a bit conspicuous. The loons certainly think we look like a threat. We come upon a pair of them calling to one another in a narrower part of the lake. Their calls are echoing off the hills so, being a sucker for echoes, I make some hooting noises too. Well. One loon dove under water, came up about three feet behind our canoe and started going crazy--standing up in the water, flopping down to do this weird breaststroke, flapping hysterically, and all the while hooting insanely. I was unaware that the hooting noises I made were Loon for "I'm going to eat your babies." I take a quick picture then we paddle away from what must be their nesting spot.
The day grows warmer as we paddle down Vermilion. We watch the lake houses become more numerous and notice the boat trailers and trucks appear as we reach the area with road access. There's cell phone coverage so Eric calls his folks to for a ride. We make it to the boat landing, eat a late lunch, and chat with an incredibly bored DNR guy. He's there checking boats for invasive species but no one has used the ramp for hours. He doesn't check our canoe.
Eric's folks show up and it's back to the house for much needed showers. Eric's brother and his family arrived at the house in our absence and they've been out fishing with much greater success than we had. All fourteen of us stuff ourselves on fried fish that night. Dessert is wild strawberry and homegrown rhubarb pie. Adventures are nice, but civilization definitely has its perks.
Day 4--Pine Lake--Trout Lake--Vermilion Lake
Another beautiful morning. We have more oatmeal and hot chocolate for breakfast and can tell already that it's going to be a warm day. After taking pictures of the nifty marshmallow mushrooms (which we decided not to roast over the fire or put in our hot chocolate), we pack our things and get another early start.
The lake narrows and turns swampy as we approach the portage. It looks like a great place for a moose--in fact most of the areas we've been this trip look like prime moose habitat. I guess I don't think like a moose. We do see--something--though, swimming in the little bay. It kind of looks like a big frog... We get closer and see that there's a lily pad swimming across the lake! Huh? It swims in front of the canoe and now we see a little muskrat with a big mouthful of lily pads.
Just past this is the start of the 270-rod portage to Trout. The sight of a split-log path winding through the marsh is a glorious thing to behold. Past the marsh the underbrush crowds the path and soaks us with dew from the waist down. Compared to the portages we've been on though, a little dew is nothing. Eric fortuitously drops a bag by a patch of blueberries. When we go back to retrieve it, we're thrilled to find a precious handful of very blue blueberries instead of the hundreds of greenberries which have been taunting us throughout the trip. The mosquitoes are enjoying our berry-picking too, so Eric pockets the berries, we complete the portage, and shove out onto the lake to savor our find.
The water in Trout is clear and we can see fish swimming around jumbles of old logs (which we assume are remnants of the logging days). I go from watching fish to watching the ripples circle out from the drips off my paddle. The ensuing conversation flows from wave propagation, to Polynesians navigating the ocean based on the interference patterns created by islands in the path of waves, and all the way to the spontaneous generation of particle pairs and the apparent emission of information from a black hole. Physicists know so much cool stuff.
We're at the portage to Vermilion in no time. A short carry and we're in civilization again. We realize that we just went an entire trip without meeting anyone on a portage (that's over a thousand rods of trail without seeing another person) and that the only people in canoes we saw were on Pine Lake. We go back to look at the falls and then shove off for the long paddle to the public boat landing. Fortunately it's a calm day so we don't have to battle the wind (though it does make for some warm paddling). It's kind of interesting to see all of the cabins on the shore that are boat-access only. We see a handful of motorboats--mostly fisherman, a couple of powerboats, and one boat towing a water skier--but there aren't nearly as many people out as we thought there would be.
We're the only canoe in sight and I feel a bit conspicuous. The loons certainly think we look like a threat. We come upon a pair of them calling to one another in a narrower part of the lake. Their calls are echoing off the hills so, being a sucker for echoes, I make some hooting noises too. Well. One loon dove under water, came up about three feet behind our canoe and started going crazy--standing up in the water, flopping down to do this weird breaststroke, flapping hysterically, and all the while hooting insanely. I was unaware that the hooting noises I made were Loon for "I'm going to eat your babies." I take a quick picture then we paddle away from what must be their nesting spot.
The day grows warmer as we paddle down Vermilion. We watch the lake houses become more numerous and notice the boat trailers and trucks appear as we reach the area with road access. There's cell phone coverage so Eric calls his folks to for a ride. We make it to the boat landing, eat a late lunch, and chat with an incredibly bored DNR guy. He's there checking boats for invasive species but no one has used the ramp for hours. He doesn't check our canoe.
Eric's folks show up and it's back to the house for much needed showers. Eric's brother and his family arrived at the house in our absence and they've been out fishing with much greater success than we had. All fourteen of us stuff ourselves on fried fish that night. Dessert is wild strawberry and homegrown rhubarb pie. Adventures are nice, but civilization definitely has its perks.
Donate - BWCA.com