The Cross Bay river going to the lake was a quiet creek with lily pad flowers that made it look like a bunch of snowballs were floating there:

A turn north and we soon found a nice site up on a ledge. It was a very steep landing, but the waters were quite, the view (with great moose possibilities) was great and it was home sweet home for us:

We never saw any moose, but a large beaver was securing his territory around us every evening:

Old Scout remembered he had packed a spare Granite Gear tarp (we used the better CCS tarp in camp) and redeemed himself by using it as a rainfly instead:

That night it was time for some spicy dogs OS picked up at Zup’s on the way to Grand Marais:

The winds had died down, there was a slight August chill in the air and all was at peace with the world.