Another perfect day. It’s warm out already. After eating breakfast and doing the dishes I’m sitting by the fireplace getting ready to pack up the stove when I suddenly here a loud screech from nearby. I look up in a tree that’s right across from me, high in a branch is a bald eagle.

Video of bald eagle in camp.

He hangs around the island I’m on and I can hear his screech every now and then. Maybe there’s a nest nearby. Over the last couple of years I’ve followed web cams with bald eagles in their nests. I bet he would love for me to go fishing so he can get any leftovers I leave on a rock.

It’s gonna be hot today in the mid 80’s (Ely would read 86 degrees). There’s no wind again. I better get a move on if I’m gonna reach the lower end of Quetico today at the American border. I have 6 portages until big, Basswood Lake where I plan to camp for my last night. I cruise down Robinson and make the 4 short portages into Kett with little trouble.

On Kett I refill my 2 water bottles and take large gulps of lake water without using the steripen. It’s getting sweaty out here. There’s hardly any breeze. I see 3 loons a short ways away diving and fishing together. I sit and watch them before the long paddle down Kett.

Here’s where I see something right out of the Discovery channel. I’m going down the narrow lake and get to the middle where it opens up. After I pass the large bay on my right I notice a bald eagle flying low on the water at the far end in a bay where I’m headed. It dives and touches the water and circles around.

To my left I now see a large bird flying across the lake at a very high speed. I don’t see the white markings of an eagle because I’m looking into the sun but figure it is one because of its size. I’ve never seen one fly this fast though. It’s heading into the bay where the other eagle is.

This 2nd eagle flies over the tree line and down into the bay where it starts chasing the other eagle. It looks like a dogfight between two world war 1 pilots. They swoop around with the one right on its tail as they fly at tree top level along the shore of the bay. They’re coming right at me now towards the open middle part of the lake.

“When they almost reach the point, they tangle their claws together and spin head over heel towards the water. With wings spread open they are cart wheeling together. My mouth just drops. Before hitting the water they separate and resume the chase. They fly across middle open part of the lake and then disappear over the trees. I hear one screeching. Oh man!, I can’t believe what I just saw.”

Apparently, after you work to get a fish you then have to keep it away from thieves. Nature is brutal. Then I think that - maybe this stuff is common up here. These two eagles probably know each other. They could even be siblings. The loons fishing in a pack like wolves, eagles doing cartwheels in the air together… this stuff might happen on a daily basis up here but most of the time nobody’s here to see it.

I do the long portage out of Kett to a no name, then a longer one that leads to Basswood. These can be summed up as both beautiful and brutal. The heat takes it toll on me and I drink a lot of water. I pass a pile of relatively fresh wolf scat on the trail. What’s impressive is the chunk of bone in it.

I wonder if this little shoot will make it through the winter.

The forest trail is very pretty here as it winds its way through.

I pass what appears to be a flooded forest that killed the trees. Maybe a beaver dam broke. A large area of dead trees stand in a dried up swamp.

Taking a break and set down the boat to get a drink.

I’m pretty wiped out when I reach Basswood. The wind can be dangerous on this huge lake. It’s out of the NE today and now fairly steady.

I head out for the point across the way. As I paddle I see something strange on the horizon. At first I think it’s some type of mushroom cloud from an explosion. I take a few pictures.

After studying it for a bit I realize it must be a large forest fire. I look at the direction it’s in but really can’t judge how far away it is. I hope it’s not affecting any homes or outfitters.

I stop at the point and rest out of the wind. It’s not bad going across but the waves hit me broadside which always is nerve wracking on a large lake. When I round this point I’ll be going right into the rollers. I make a run for it and battle my way along the shore until I reach a sheltered rocky area. Looks like a good place for lunch. I rest on the rocks and fix up 2 P & J’s, a couple of Slim Jims, some gorp, and lake water.

I don’t see any whitecaps, but to do the next stretch I’ll have to be broadside to the waves again. After shoving off from the rocks I find that it’s not bad at all. After a week of paddling out here, you get pretty capable and know what your boat can handle.

I glide behind a small island and rest for a minute then make the turn south for the point. The waves are now quartering me from behind and I do a little surfing. As I swing left into a southerly course the wind is gone, blocked by the forest on my left.

“I’m getting tired and the muscles between my shoulder blades are aching. The sun is hot too. I need a campsite soon. My fingers are sore and feel like they could be getting blisters.’

This is a long stretch down a leg of this big, winding lake along the border. A lot more people travel here but I don’t see any sign of camps or canoes.

I focus on the next piece of land in front of me and paddle. I look to the land again and it’s not noticeable that I’ve gotten any closer. I resume the meditation of rhythmic paddling and I daydream. I think of the scene in “Monty Python and the Holy Grail. The one where the knight is running towards the castle. Do you remember this one?

It goes a little like that.:)

I peek into the trees as I paddle, looking for those silent eagles. I see loons, their telltale dark heads and then the curved graceful dive, down to fish. I wish one would surface near me. The loons seem to tolerate canoeists as if they know we won’t hurt them but they still stay a safe distance.

Finally I’m gliding up to my target for the night. There’s 2 sites on a small island near a thin point. I round the left side hoping it’s open for business and it is. The landing is different. It looks like it was made to pull boats up onto. A gravel driveway of sorts. I’m not sure but in the past, motor boats were allowed to be in these waters. They still are to an extent on the American side of the lake. An imaginary line down the middle separates the two countries. I have to stay on the Canadian side tonight because I don’t have a permit for the US side Boundary Waters.

After unloading to a large clearing and setting up camp I take a short, well worn path to the other side and it opens up into a second campsite that’s here. I think of all the large groups with lawn chairs, radios and even beer kegs that must have taken over these 2 sites and whooped it up in the evenings around big fires. The place has a worn look to it. The ground is largely dirt in the camp areas. I can sure tell I’m back near civilization.

That said, the sites are clean. No trash in the fireplaces or scattered around. No toilet paper hanging in nearby bushes. I’ve come across this thing on past trips in Quetico but not this time. All the sites have been clean and all have had spit wood sitting in a neat pile waiting for the next camper.

I got here around 3:00 and my camp is surrounded by trees. The only view of the lake is south by the landing and east to the point close by. I make some dinner around 5:00 then am content to read and explore the island trails for awhile. It’s my last night up here and I’m not ready to leave. At dusk, I sit on a rock down by the landing and listen to the loons. Off in the distance I hear motor boats.