Day 4, we left broke camp and left Knife Lake. Though we were sad to leave, our sorrow was mitigated by a plan we had hatched before the trip to spend our last night on Boot Lake, where we hoped to meet Eglath, who was beginning his own solo trip. This required completing all of our Day 1 and Day 2 travel in a single day. It also required that Eglath arrive a day early to claim the site we wanted on Boot, which of course could not be guaranteed.

Any number of things could have gone wrong to prevent our success. We were, again, later getting started than planned, and with double-portaging, we took three times as long as I had expected. We had honed our strategy and EP and Mike B took over portaging their boat, which allowed me and Movie Mike to tackle the Alumacraft as a team (to this point I had portaged it completely on my own, while Movie Mike portaged the other one). As we walked a portage the first two times, I would count my paces. While making the third and final trip over with the boat Movie Mike would take the first leg while I counted my paces yet again: when we reached the halfway point, we would switch and I would take the boat. This spared both our spines even if it didn’t buy us any more time. An unexpected side effect was that we determined that the distance of 220 rods for the Ensign > Boot portage is not accurate. I counted 890 paces on that portage (a pace being each time the same heel touches down, or two steps). I haven’t measured my pace exactly, but using Eglath’s estimate of 1000 paces per mile, that puts the portage well over 220. After returning, a friend of ours suggested that perhaps the distance was originally described as being 220 from Boot to the small pond about 2/3 of the way over, and that the subsequent 65-80 rods were left off some old map and never reintroduced.

While we made steady progress, daylight burned away. Now very hungry and thirsty, we took a break for lunch at a campsite near the Ensign > Boot portage. Eglath had promised to meet us there if the site on Boot was taken, but it occurred to me as we wolfed down our meager rations that it was much later in the day than he would have been expecting us. Although not seeing him on Ensign should have been a good sign, it also meant uncertainty. We might well portage all the way to Boot and still find out site taken with no trace of Eglath - then be forced to portage all the way back across and find a site on Ensign, knowing we’d repeat the same process again the next day, or continue on to Snowbank and hope to camp there.

From the Boot landing there was no hope of seeing Eglath from the site, so we had no choice but to load in the boats and go for it. Exhausted and dispirited, I had abandoned all hope of rendezvousing with Eglath as we paddled out into the early evening still of Boot Lake. But then, miraculously, coming around the point I spotted an elfin, bearded figure by the water's edge. I hailed this man with a private signal known only to a select handful of friends, called the Call of the Marmot. When it was returned to me, echoing majestically over the water, I knew we'd found our friend.

We celebrated the end of our trip and the beginning of Eglath’s with a big meal and a fresh growler of El Nino IPA. Eglath shared his uneaten dinner from last night, and we shared our huge surplus of whiskey. Though it wouldn’t have made any huge logistical difference to either party, we were happy to see each other and meeting up made us all feel like we’d accomplished something. The frivolities lasted long into the night.