Wednesday, September 14, 2011 - ** Day 2 ** The next morning it was nice and cold, with clouds building again out of the Northwest. For months, and at Lewis’s suggestion, we had planned to take the unmarked portage over to Fat from Slim. We had chosen this camp for a quick start across to it, but, due to the weather the evening before, and our inability to paddle across and actually scout it out beforehand, we went to Plan B. We loaded up and headed North out of Slim, through Section 3 Pond, and over into South Lake. The lake was receded there at the portage, leaving a long walk in the mud out to the water’s edge. Fortunately, someone had laid a path of large, flat stepping-stones all the way from the trail’s end, to within a few feet of the water. Thanking them in absentia, we loaded, and saw two people on a campsite to our left. We paddled off in the opposite direction. They were the last people we would see for almost 3 days. The portage out of South, and over to Steep, got our heart rates up a bit. It was the hardest portage so far in the trip. The clouds overhead had nearly filled the sky, and after we crossed Steep, and were unloading on the far side, they pounded us with a heavy, yet brief, shower of pea-sized hail. It made for a very different look on the portage trail as we walked through the woods – one of the many firsts for us on this trip. We had been on portages with ankle deep water running over our feet, but not with piles of ice pellets amongst the roots and rocks. It looked like someone had tried to carry lots of busted open beanbag chairs through! Here, we also heard for the first time this trip our daily fly-by of the “Eye in the Sky” plane, and noticed while standing still to listen just how much cooler it had gotten, and the grey gloominess that had taken over the entire sky. “Wow”, I said to Matthew as we loaded into Eugene Lake, “that almost looks like….snow?” Nah, I thought. We portaged over to Gun, and again had some heavy showers of pea-sized hail. Just like the day before with rain, we took a break under some tree cover to enjoy a sandwich, and a breather. We kind of laughed about the hail, noting that we didn’t have to be so careful with finding cover, but just hoped the nuggets didn’t get any bigger! Golf ball-sized or bigger wouldn’t be any fun out here. The longer paddle across Gun Lake was a nice break, especially with it being fairly to almost calm now. It was still cooling off as the day wore on, and then halfway across Gun, we got another extended hail shower. We agreed, though, we would take showers of hail over rain anytime! Stranger things could happen. After reaching Tesaker Lake, they did. We loaded into and started across the small lake, and just as I kind of sensed before, it started to snow. It was a light shower, but the flakes were big and wet. We drifted into the drain-side of the lake and got out along the large dam that was beside the next portage. I paused to listen to that silence that comes with a snowfall, and to take in and enjoy the wintry picturesque scene on the small lake. It was a completely different view from the rainbow the day before, but just as beautiful in its own right, and a good opportunity for a sincere prayer of Thanks – for so many things. We enjoyed the quiet moment together, another one of those that required no words, then turned to tackle the portage over to Takucmich Lake. It was easily the least-traveled of all portages so far on our trip. It was complete with slick, moss covered rocks – ankle-twisting roots – and teeth-chattering ruts, a perfect candidate for the forestry service trail work we had seen on some trails! After putting in on Takucmich, we made straight across towards the Eastern lake arm, and the island campsite there. The wind continued to move the clouds from Northwest to Southeast, but fortunately, there was no more precipitation this evening, and, we began every now and then to see patches of blue sky until finally, it really started to clear off. Lucky for us, the camp was empty. In fact, the entire lake was empty, save for three loons we passed bobbing as we came in. We really hoped they would call for us tonight. Matthew and I arranged what was a nice campsite, had some dinner, then fished a short while in the fleeting daylight. In the puffed bunches of clouds on the horizon, the sunset was full of orange and purple hues, and beautiful. These views are part of the allure that keeps me coming back and look forward to the most. We settled in for the night, both dressed warmer than we ever had been out here. It was forecast to be 25 or so, but it actually got much colder than that. Afterwards, we heard it had been more like 19. Our outfitter had suggested bringing another tarp inside the tent to pull over us and keep our heat in. We’re sure glad he did. After sharing our notes for the day, we quieted down, hoping to hear those loons, but we never did. There was only the wind blowing occasionally through the treetops on the island. As I fell asleep, I could feel the cold night air oozing through the bottom of the tent. I snuggled down further in my sleeping bag, knowing it was going to get really cold.