When I woke, I could hear the rain and wind in the trees. It felt like a bad omen. We headed back to Ogish. The morning was thankfully relatively calm, although it did rain. I slipped trying to load the canoe AND defend it from a pointy looking rock on Annie. The only fall on the whole trip, but I fell right off the landing rocks and into the lake. An unexpected swim in Gore-Tex rain pants, which I think could have been much worse. By the time we reached Ogish, however, it felt like a recurring nightmare. That same scene across the southwest section of the lake: wind whipping up whitecaps, and once again, coming straight at us. We decided at that point that the Boundary Waters gods had officially cursed us, to face the same lake in a wicked headwind in two separate directions within two days of each other. We paddled east, trying to use the islands there to break the wind up, which worked pretty well. The spaces between the islands were interesting, paddling almost due north or south to keep from getting broad sided. I chose a site in an inlet, that I had hoped would shield us from the brunt of the wind as it was still raining and was getting frankly pretty cold. Turns out, the inlet just served to funnel the wind right into the campsite. It was getting late, though, and was too rough for us to try to push on. Strung a fluttering tarp in the rain, can't even remember what we ate. We sought refuge in the tent early, though, and sandwiched the cold one between us. Thank God for down sleeping bags. I was toasty in no time, and fell asleep before the others.