You Don't Catch, You Don't Eat
by rockstaranon
Trip Type:
Paddling Canoe
Entry Date:
05/16/2011
Entry & Exit Point:
Mudro Lake (EP 23)
Number of Days:
6
Group Size:
5
Discuss Trip:
View Discussion Thread (14 messages)
Day 4 of 6
Day 4: Horse River to Crooked Lake. 3 “official” portages. 58 rods, 48, rods, and 73 rods. Some un-official ones as well.
We were up at 6am. After some delicious sausage, egg, and cheese breakfast burritos, we broke down camp and pushed off the landing by 7am. I’ve never been up that early or broken down camp so efficiently with this many people. It was good start for what was shaping up to be an encouraging day. The weather again was mint. About 70 degrees, a light breeze, and a few tufts of clouds dotted against the big blue blanket. The Horse River was a blast! I’d heard that sometimes if the water was high enough, you could ride some of the light rapids past the unmarked portages. There were about 5 unmarked portages and as we come up to the first set of rapids, I think I can squeeze through that nice flow on the right side there. Too small for a tandem, but I can make it in my solo. The guys continue on to the unmarked portage and I say nothing to them as I head for the rushing water. Here we go…… “WEEEEEEEE!!!” *KLANK* *KLUNK* The canoe heaves to the right on a submerged rock and I scrape to a stop at a 45 degree angle. I have to step out on another rock to pull and right the canoe. Lost my sunglasses but that’s it. I make it through and wait patiently for the guys on the other side of the portage. As the guys finish up, we notice another group of 4 right behind us. We’re on a mission for the Lower Basswood Falls site. I want this site bad and after missing our first choice on Monday, I’m bent on nabbing this one, and these people might just be after the SAME SITE!!! The amazing race is on. We were able to scoot through the 4 other small rapids sections and avoid the rest of the unmarked portages. Papa and Webb got stuck on the last one. They skidded onto a submerged rock and the canoe spun like a top 180 degrees with the rushing water pushing them around, but they masterfully pulled their way out of it. Kid eventually spoke with the group behind us to find out that they were continuing up to the Day bays; it was fun while it lasted, and we just finished the last portage of the day. I race on ahead of the group to where I think our campsite is. I pull my canoe up to the island in front of the 12 rod portage which is on the other side of the raging rapids. I jump to the other side of the island to look upon our desired campsite and my heart drops. It’s taken. Bummer. The site at the top of the falls is open though it has a very steep landing. We circle around the other end of the island and start setting up camp. “That’s Canada right there gentleman,” I say to them pointing across Crooked Lake to the 12 rod portage in the Quetico. This campsite is decent. It’s atop a small bluff right at the beginning of the falls. The downside is the sand flies, they’re everywhere in small clouds that get under everything! I look for a good branch to throw up our food pack and notice that in about 3 other trees, there’s about 4 ft of rope hanging from branches with frayed ends on them. The implications of these rope pieces doesn’t register right away. We do some exploring and follow a trail along the falls down to Crooked Lake and right along the campsite at the bottom of the falls. That evening we all decide go nab some wallies after a nice hot dish dinner of bbq pouch chicken and Lipton rice. We scoot around the island and beach the canoe at the 12 rod portage and step onto Canadian soil. I’m the first one to push off from the portage and start heading to the U.S. side of the lake. I look across to the campsite located on the other side and see a medium sized black bear patrolling the bluff. “GUYS GUYS! LOOK AT THE BEAR,” I yell to the others behind me. We manage to get pretty close to the bear before he takes back off into the woods. COOL. Webb nabs the first eye but can’t find anymore at that spot. We tool around until Papa hits another one on a drop off next to an island. Webb manages to grab 3 more and Papa and I hook into another 1 apiece. By the time we start heading back we’ve got 5 good eaters. We get back to camp about 9 and the last of the sunset is beginning to darken. I go to the food barrels to grab the panko, shore lunch, and seasonings. Hey, I could’ve sworn the lid on that barrel was closed when we left…hmmm where the hell is the seasonings bag. Wait, the last pound of bacon is not in here, neither is the red beans and rice, or the bear creek soup mix. The packs are sitting under our huge tarp which is extending into the camp from the tree line. I look back towards the trees and even though the light is almost non-existent, I can just make out a wrapper trail leading into the woods. Something definitely got into our food barrel. We have 2, 20 gallon bear barrels in a pack harness. Someone, and we have yet to determine who, only clamped the clamp to the lid of one of the barrels, and not to the barrel AND the lid. I survey the damage back into the forest and alert the rest of the crew. Our best guess (even after seeing a bear) is that it was a raccoon, no one wanted believe it was bear. So we pick up what we can and fry up the fish. Well the fish might as well have been a dinner bell, because shortly after we finish eating, we start to hear branches breaking by the tarp. What ensued for the rest of the night was utter chaos. It took till about midnight before we determined that it really was a bear. We continued to hear the bear trudging around on the outskirts of camp, and a couple times we shone our flashlights into the woods to see a pair of beady eyes glaring back, what we didn’t realize is that it was really 2 bears. About midnight, I walk over to the tarp for something that I can’t remember. The food pack is high up in a tree at this point. I know I was rummaging through a pack when I hear some rustling behind me. I turn around and shine my flashlight toward the sound in the woods and my light comes upon a medium size black bear with a bag of Vigo red beans and rice in its mouth…not 10 ft away from me. Now most people would’ve screamed like a little girl and ran away…which, needless to say, is exactly what I did. It’s one thing to encounter a bear in the daytime where you can see its movements and know what it’s doing, but in the dead of night, it’s a whole different ball game. We were pretty freaked out, but spent about 2 hours yelling, banging pots and pans, and chasing away these bears, but no matter how hard we tried, they always came back. At this point, I think it was Webb and I that were the only ones who actually saw a bear. Rob J still thinks it’s a raccoon, Papa wouldn’t leave a 10 ft radius from the fire, and Kid refused to believe anything until he saw it with his own eyes. Finally at about 1am, we’re exhausted from the bear drama and need to get some sleep. There’s already talk of moving camp in the morning. So we wait till we hear another bear trudging around and chase it back as far as you can in the middle of the night, and we retire hoping the damn things don’t come back.
We were up at 6am. After some delicious sausage, egg, and cheese breakfast burritos, we broke down camp and pushed off the landing by 7am. I’ve never been up that early or broken down camp so efficiently with this many people. It was good start for what was shaping up to be an encouraging day. The weather again was mint. About 70 degrees, a light breeze, and a few tufts of clouds dotted against the big blue blanket. The Horse River was a blast! I’d heard that sometimes if the water was high enough, you could ride some of the light rapids past the unmarked portages. There were about 5 unmarked portages and as we come up to the first set of rapids, I think I can squeeze through that nice flow on the right side there. Too small for a tandem, but I can make it in my solo. The guys continue on to the unmarked portage and I say nothing to them as I head for the rushing water. Here we go…… “WEEEEEEEE!!!” *KLANK* *KLUNK* The canoe heaves to the right on a submerged rock and I scrape to a stop at a 45 degree angle. I have to step out on another rock to pull and right the canoe. Lost my sunglasses but that’s it. I make it through and wait patiently for the guys on the other side of the portage. As the guys finish up, we notice another group of 4 right behind us. We’re on a mission for the Lower Basswood Falls site. I want this site bad and after missing our first choice on Monday, I’m bent on nabbing this one, and these people might just be after the SAME SITE!!! The amazing race is on. We were able to scoot through the 4 other small rapids sections and avoid the rest of the unmarked portages. Papa and Webb got stuck on the last one. They skidded onto a submerged rock and the canoe spun like a top 180 degrees with the rushing water pushing them around, but they masterfully pulled their way out of it. Kid eventually spoke with the group behind us to find out that they were continuing up to the Day bays; it was fun while it lasted, and we just finished the last portage of the day. I race on ahead of the group to where I think our campsite is. I pull my canoe up to the island in front of the 12 rod portage which is on the other side of the raging rapids. I jump to the other side of the island to look upon our desired campsite and my heart drops. It’s taken. Bummer. The site at the top of the falls is open though it has a very steep landing. We circle around the other end of the island and start setting up camp. “That’s Canada right there gentleman,” I say to them pointing across Crooked Lake to the 12 rod portage in the Quetico. This campsite is decent. It’s atop a small bluff right at the beginning of the falls. The downside is the sand flies, they’re everywhere in small clouds that get under everything! I look for a good branch to throw up our food pack and notice that in about 3 other trees, there’s about 4 ft of rope hanging from branches with frayed ends on them. The implications of these rope pieces doesn’t register right away. We do some exploring and follow a trail along the falls down to Crooked Lake and right along the campsite at the bottom of the falls. That evening we all decide go nab some wallies after a nice hot dish dinner of bbq pouch chicken and Lipton rice. We scoot around the island and beach the canoe at the 12 rod portage and step onto Canadian soil. I’m the first one to push off from the portage and start heading to the U.S. side of the lake. I look across to the campsite located on the other side and see a medium sized black bear patrolling the bluff. “GUYS GUYS! LOOK AT THE BEAR,” I yell to the others behind me. We manage to get pretty close to the bear before he takes back off into the woods. COOL. Webb nabs the first eye but can’t find anymore at that spot. We tool around until Papa hits another one on a drop off next to an island. Webb manages to grab 3 more and Papa and I hook into another 1 apiece. By the time we start heading back we’ve got 5 good eaters. We get back to camp about 9 and the last of the sunset is beginning to darken. I go to the food barrels to grab the panko, shore lunch, and seasonings. Hey, I could’ve sworn the lid on that barrel was closed when we left…hmmm where the hell is the seasonings bag. Wait, the last pound of bacon is not in here, neither is the red beans and rice, or the bear creek soup mix. The packs are sitting under our huge tarp which is extending into the camp from the tree line. I look back towards the trees and even though the light is almost non-existent, I can just make out a wrapper trail leading into the woods. Something definitely got into our food barrel. We have 2, 20 gallon bear barrels in a pack harness. Someone, and we have yet to determine who, only clamped the clamp to the lid of one of the barrels, and not to the barrel AND the lid. I survey the damage back into the forest and alert the rest of the crew. Our best guess (even after seeing a bear) is that it was a raccoon, no one wanted believe it was bear. So we pick up what we can and fry up the fish. Well the fish might as well have been a dinner bell, because shortly after we finish eating, we start to hear branches breaking by the tarp. What ensued for the rest of the night was utter chaos. It took till about midnight before we determined that it really was a bear. We continued to hear the bear trudging around on the outskirts of camp, and a couple times we shone our flashlights into the woods to see a pair of beady eyes glaring back, what we didn’t realize is that it was really 2 bears. About midnight, I walk over to the tarp for something that I can’t remember. The food pack is high up in a tree at this point. I know I was rummaging through a pack when I hear some rustling behind me. I turn around and shine my flashlight toward the sound in the woods and my light comes upon a medium size black bear with a bag of Vigo red beans and rice in its mouth…not 10 ft away from me. Now most people would’ve screamed like a little girl and ran away…which, needless to say, is exactly what I did. It’s one thing to encounter a bear in the daytime where you can see its movements and know what it’s doing, but in the dead of night, it’s a whole different ball game. We were pretty freaked out, but spent about 2 hours yelling, banging pots and pans, and chasing away these bears, but no matter how hard we tried, they always came back. At this point, I think it was Webb and I that were the only ones who actually saw a bear. Rob J still thinks it’s a raccoon, Papa wouldn’t leave a 10 ft radius from the fire, and Kid refused to believe anything until he saw it with his own eyes. Finally at about 1am, we’re exhausted from the bear drama and need to get some sleep. There’s already talk of moving camp in the morning. So we wait till we hear another bear trudging around and chase it back as far as you can in the middle of the night, and we retire hoping the damn things don’t come back.
Donate - BWCA.com