OUCH!

I awoke to a knee that -screamed- pain if used the wrong way. I woke Yoder, and while fixing breakfast we discussed it. I determined I could hike, but we both agreed to hike out early. This would cut our trip in half but there was no way I was going to push it. If I were too slow, there were campsites along the way. We were in no hurry.

Yoder can read a map. He saw how far we had to walk, understood what all the tight contour lines meant, and noticed we were coming out at the other end of this lake. He took it upon himself to ask "the neighbors" if they would ferry us to the other end of the lake. They declined and it is understandable that they did as it is a big lake. So he asked if they would ferry us to their first portage? They again declined. Yoder did not tell me about this until we were on the trail again. I am proud of him for his thinking. I was not. I should have asked myself.

So with our packs a bit lighter for having cooked the water out of our trash, we hit the trail. Shortly after leaving the campsite, we started up a hill that had me questioning my sanity for doing this.rugged, rocky, and steep. Though I was quick to discover my knee preferred uphill to downhill. My lungs however had taken up the opposite position.

We reached the summit of this "hill" and were greeted with an amazing view, and a comfortable couch shaped rock, put there by God, for us to enjoy the view. While it was a bit too soon to take a break, it was a bit too perfect to pass by without lingering a bit. I was teetering then, but I am grateful now that our "neighbors" declined to assist us. To this day one of the things I think of is gazing out over Canada. The clear blue sky, and the mist still on the lakes but clear of the land. It was the world turned upside down with the "clouds" on the ground. Soon the sun burned away the mist bit by bit, and by the time we put our packs back on, the lakes below us were revealed, and the lakes in the distance disappeared beneath the treetops to be lost to us.

As we set off we entered the most difficult, most miserable, and most beautiful trail I have ever hiked. Once I was tired of climbing, I'd be faced with descending where the trail follows slippery and sharp rocks in the middle of a stream going steeply downhill. Yoder broke our "stick together" rule. He hiked to the bottom, dropped his pack and came back up, grabbed my pack and carried it down for me. Not too bad for a 16 year old.

At some point we entered a section of trail that by the map was relatively flat. Well sort of. The worst part was it was so worn and the ground so soft, the exposed tree roots and pointy rocks made it perhaps the worst section of trail. I suspect, but do not know for sure, that my opinion of the trail condition may be influenced by the fact I was hiking it with a bum knee.

We ate lunch and got watered up at a portage sometime around noon. We stayed far too long but it felt good to relax a bit. My knee was gratefully for the cold lakewater. I poured the water on, not wanting to risk slipping on a rock wading into the lake. It turned out O.K. because while I had underestimated the difficulty of the trail we had covered, I over estimated the difficulty of the next section of trail. we were soon greeted with a hikers dream trail. An old railroad bed of fine smooth gravel , perfectly smooth, and about as level as you can get in the wilderness.

Here, we went a little off course on purpose. One of the things on my "to do" list for this trip was to have Yoder cross into Canada. Just one of those silly things to say "I've been to Canada". so we hike up about a quarter mile or so, to where I am absolutely sure the other side is Canada, I have him cross the stream and enter Canada (illegally). I snap a photo, and off we go down the spur trail to the middle entry point.

The trail then runs, in all it's smooth gravel glory, along the shore of Daniels lake. The cool breeze off the lake was a constant. The trees were dense enough to give us constant shade, and thin enough to let the breeze through. I decided then that when my younger young'uns are old enough, this will be their first camp in the BWCA.

Now what fascinates me is that the moment you leave the BWCA, the trail all but disappears. after a short hike hoping you are on the trail, you come to a snowmobile trail. This is obviously the way out... isn't it? The wide trail took us through flooded felid and marsh. At times water up to our knees. The trail was so wide the sun beat down on us relentlessly. I was grateful for my habit of wearing a long sleeve shirt treated with permethrin as the mosquitoes here were plentiful and underfed. At times I wondered if the "real" trail was"t something silly like running parallel 5 yards off to the side. But no. Eventually we emerged onto a road just a short way from the resort at the end of Clearwater Lake. We were indeed on the right trail.

We entered the lodge and asked to use the phone. Stinking up their nice lodge, I sat and called the resort that had my car. Timing and all, there would be no one to pick us up for several hours. The wife resort owner took pity upon us (or just wanted our stinking carcasses out of her lodge) and convinced husband resort owner to ferry us to my car. On the ride there, he expresses his supervise that we came out the trail that way. He didn't think you could get through despite the fact it is an official entry point. hmm.

When we arrive at my car, Yoder, bless his heart, pulls out his wallet and asks mr resort owner "How much for the lfit?" Mr resort owner gives him a low number and Yoder pays him. I went over and discreetly tipped him an amount that should cover what the real charge is plus a decent tip.

We rent a shower and get cleaned up. Amazing the healing power of a hot shower. And we set off for home. A long and painful drive later we are home.

Yoder and I don't always have a lot in common or a lot to talk about. But we can always find common ground in this trip. My wife was a bit aprehensive at the 2 of us going alone. I admit, I was stressed about it, but for different reasons, The fact of the matter is that before the trip I said there is no one I would rather be with in the wilderness than Yoder. That trip confirmed my beliefs. Teenagers by their nature do stupid things. It's easy to lose sight of the true person they are becoming. I spent 3 memorable days with my son, and saw him as the man I always hoped he would become.

My knee still hurts now and then. It has slowly healed over the better part of a year. I'd rather it not hurt, but an amazing thing happens. When it hurts and just for a moment I see stars, those stars fade into a memory of that trip. I saw the BWCA in a completely different way. And while I would never intentionally repeat the horrible parts of the trip, I would never trade them away. They are among my most cherished memories