Piwi and I were the first ones up this morning, crawling out of the tent while it was still dark. I needed the headlamp to get coffee going. But we were rewarded with a fireball sunrise glowing through dense fog that had covered Cherokee lake overnight -

David was soon up too, and got this picture of me communing with the mystical scene -

The fog was so thick that the sunrise almost looked like fire and smoke engulfing the opposite shore -

A Piwi interlude -

The mist slowly rose, providing a glimpse of the forest across the water -

Eventually the fog lifted completely to reveal a mostly blue sky with a few scattered clouds. We finished breakfast and packing up around 10:00, then got underway back toward Sawbill Lake.

Linda and Neil paddling up Cherokee Creek toward our first and longest portage of the day -

This photo shows the takeout at the creek for the 230-rod portage back to Skoop Lake - a spot that we will always remember because of what happened on our last trip across the portage (see below) -

The bright sunshine made our five trips across the portage cheerier than when we had gone in the other direction a few days ago. I particularly liked the view into this mature black spruce bog that the trail passed by -

I was a bit less enamored of this stretch -

David and I were taking a short break after our first trip across the portage when Neil got to the end carrying the Spartans' canoe (note the convenient stone steps down to the landing) -

Looking out from the portage over little Skoop Lake -

We were making good time on our multiple trips over this portage. Then near disaster struck as David and Piwi and I got back to the Cherokee Creek end to pick up our last load of gear. Just as we got to the creek, Piwi ran off into the alder thicket that flanked the trail, on the scent of who-knows-what. When she didn't heed our calls to come, we made an ill-advised decision to start back across the portage and let her catch up, on the theory that she had to learn that she couldn't expect us to just wait for her if she ran off. But as 20 rods became 40, then 60, then 80, with still no Piwi, we grew increasingly concerned. Finally, we realized we needed to go into puppy-search mode. I dropped my pack and started back toward Cherokee Creek, calling for Piwi as I went. In the meantime, David continued forward on the portage, just in case Piwi had passed us by in the woods and continued to the far end, where she might be waiting with the Spartans.

I got more and more worried as I got closer to Cherokee Creek without locating Piwi. Then, just as I got to the landing, I saw a flash of orange through the foliage - Piwi's CFD! My elation turned to momentary fear again when I realized there was a Kevlar canoe at the landing that was the same color as the CFD - maybe that's what I had seen. But then Piwi came into sight next to the canoe. What a relief!

The young couple who belonged with the canoe then told me where they found Piwi. They had just cleared the small beaver dam a little ways down Cherokee Creek and were headed for the portage landing when they saw a dog swimming downstream toward them. They said it was the most amazing thing they saw on their trip! Piwi turned around to swim with them back to the landing, and around that time they heard me calling for her. Piwi and I were both very, very happy to be reunited.

I was really surprised and dismayed, though, that Piwi had gotten so confused that she had started to head in the wrong direction and actually started swimming down Cherokee Creek when she got back from her unsanctioned hunting expedition. Later, when David and I discussed it, we thought maybe the sound of the couple paddling led her astray, and she swam down the creek thinking it might be us paddling away. On the other hand, maybe she got confused on her own, and if the couple hadn't happened to be paddling up to the portage just then, who knows how far in the wrong direction she might have gone. Anyway, I thanked the couple profusely for rescuing her. As we talked, I noticed they had non-Minnesota accents and asked where they were from. The woman was from Germany, and the man (if I recall) was from south Asia, although both were working in Minneapolis. This was their first wilderness canoe trip and they were loving it.

Piwi stuck close to my side as we made our way back across the portage. I stopped to pick up my pack where I had dropped it and, further on, we met David walking back from the far end. Not surprisingly, he was really relieved I had Piwi. As I mentioned in my Quetico report, we have been working on her training this winter, and I feel pretty confident that there won't be more incidents like this one on future trips.

The Spartans also heaved a sigh of relief when we showed up at the end of the portage with Piwi. And although Piwi can sometimes be a little hard to get to load up in the canoe after we've gotten all the gear in, this time she jumped in her place in the stern the moment I set the canoe in the water, before we had put a single pack in. She was not going to be left behind!

Disaster averted, it was time for lunch. We thought we would eat at the same rock ledge where we had had lunch going the other way a few days ago, by the portage landing at the other end of Skoop. But as we headed in that direction, we saw the spot was occupied. We looked for another lunch spot but didn't see anything suitable. So we joined the two guys at our rock ledge lunch spot. They were just starting on their own trip, and seemed to take a liking to Piwi. I know she liked them. Then again, she likes everyone.

After lunch we carried our gear across the short portage, paddled down the creek to Ada Lake, and decided to bypass the next portage by following the creek over the big beaver dam Heather and Marshall had told us about. This picture looks down the creek as we started toward the dam -

The beaver dam itself was several feet high. It seemed that Lynda and Neil had never pulled over a big dam like that on their trips together. We helped Lynda out of their canoe and down the dam, then helped Neil pull their canoe over, then helped Lynda get in after Neil maneuvered the boat around. Then we pulled our own canoe over. Lynda was able to get some fun pictures of this, which appear in her trip report.

We continued down the winding, marshy creek, and at one point David and I had to jump out on another, very, very low beaver dam and pull our canoe over. We thought we would save Lynda and Neil the trouble of getting out their canoe by also pulling it over while they were in it when they got to this low dam. But for a moment it seemed like we did that too rashly, because as we were pulling their boat over, it briefly buckled, and I feared we had cracked a rib in it. Fortunately, it came through unscathed. I guess this was a day of near-misses and teachable moments about situations to avoid in the future.

Soon we were back to the wide part of Ada Creek and the last, 90-rod portage into Sawbill. Since David and I had made four trips across this portage for exercise with Piwi our first day, then five trips across to transit gear our second day, and now another five trips across going back, we figured it made the all-time record for the portage we had crossed the most times in a single trip.

Before launching into Sawbill Lake, we briefly discussed our plan for finding a campsite. When we came through here several days ago, we had the north end of Sawbill essentially to ourselves. At that time I noticed several sites that looked good from the water, not to mention the excellent site we had actually stayed at. So I thought we could afford to be a little choosy. In addition, my very cursory observation from the water of the northernmost site had suggested it was at best so-so. So I thought we should not bother to check whether it was free, and should go to check other sites first. Lynda, on the other hand, leaned toward taking the first site available. But as we left the portage, we passed the northernmost site by. I don't know whether it was free. It may have been. Or maybe it was occupied by unseen campers.

In any event, as we started checking the other sites at the north end of Sawbill, site after site was occupied. On top of that, the wind had blown up pretty strong during the afternoon, whipping up the waves and making for suboptimal conditions for paddling to and fro to check campsites. After we struck out several times, Lynda expressed frustration that we had not checked the first site. But going back now didn't seem like a reasonable option.

After we found the first few sites occupied, David and I made forays to a couple other potential sites while Lynda and Neil waited in the lee of an island. When we paddled over to the site where we had stayed our first night, it seemed like we might be in luck. But then a camper and his dog appeared on shore. Suddenly Piwi perked up, and for the first and only time on our canoe trips with her, climbed up on the packs in the middle of the canoe to bark at the other dog. Let me tell you, there is nothing quite like having a good-sized dog stand on top of your canoe packs while the boat is being tossed around by big waves. We got Piwi back to her spot without mishap and returned to Neil and Lynda.

We then split up again, with the Spartans paddling down the slightly more sheltered west side of the lake while David and I checked for empty sites on the east side. I thought we were going to end up finding nothing and have to spend the night at the Sawbill Campground, which is just outside the wilderness boundary at the south end of the lake. (Hmmm, they have hot showers, don't they?) I have to say, this experience reinforced my preference for canoeing in Quetico, where there is no pressure to grab the first campsite you see after 2:00 or 3:00 for fear that everything will be taken if you don't.

But then David and I found an unoccupied campsite in the back reaches of a little secluded bay on the east side of Sawbill. It wasn't a five-star site or anything like that, particularly in terms of places to hang out by the water (none to speak of). But it had good tent pads, lovely forest, it was tucked away from wind and traffic, a nice little kitchen area, and most of all - it was open.

We left our packs at the site and paddled back out to the mouth of the bay to signal to Neil and Lynda that we had a site. It was hard to see their canoe as it came down the west side of the churning lake sparkling in the bright sun. Eventually we spotted them and waved our paddles overhead to flash in the sunlight. Soon they were heading our way. We were all very happy to find a home for our last night.

After setting up camp, David and I went for a dip to wash away the day's grime. It had gotten pretty warm, and we had done a lot of portaging, plus a little sweating in the campsite search. Then we settled in for a pleasant final evening of our trip -

Later in the evening a pack of wolves sang several times somewhere between us and nearby Smoke Lake. If I recall correctly, Lynda and Neil had never heard wolves before on their many canoe trips, so this was an extra special treat for them. David and I kept our eyes on Piwi to make sure she stayed close by, and gladly let her in the tent early when she wanted to go in.

We had a great final evening. Big and little disasters had threatened a few times today. But all's well that ends well. We finished our rations of bourbon as dark fell and the wolves sang their final chorus. Then it was time to crawl in the tent for our last night out.

Total distance traveled Day 6 (including all trips across portages): 10.5 miles.