Tuesday, September 10, 2013: I wake up a little after 6:00 AM, dress hurriedly, and make a run up the long slippery trail behind camp. I make coffee and have Outdoor Herbivore’s Muesli (170 mg sodium) for breakfast. I’m still using the small canister of fuel that I started using at the end of last fall’s trip. I’ve had two or three cold breakfasts this trip and maybe a little less coffee, but the JetBoil is a very efficient little water boiler. Temperatures have also been warmer than last fall’s trip.

It didn’t rain much more last night, just a little drizzle here and there. It is very cloudy and the forecast is a 40% chance of thunderstorms from mid-morning through the afternoon with increasing winds. I decide to move on out this morning and go as far as I can.

I depart at 8:30 AM - just can’t seem to get on the move any faster than that. As I load the canoe, a couple of guys paddle down the lake and as I head down that way they seem to be looking for the portage. They disappear around the corner towards where it is and I arrive a few minutes later after a short paddle in light rain. There is no sign of them – they have disappeared into the Polly Triangle, never to be seen again.

I portage across to Townline Lake and the short paddle across Townline brings me to the 189-rod portage to Kawasachong Lake. The portage is through the edge of the burn area from the Pagami Creek Wildfire two years ago. The trees are black and lifeless, but the there’s a lot of color from the grasses, flowers, and bushes. It takes me about an hour to double portage to Kawasachong Lake. The west wind is increasing and sweeps across the low land to the west of Kawasachong Lake and pushes the canoe, but I work my way down the west shore and enter the river towards Square Lake.

The paddle is enjoyable until the final portage into Square Lake, which is a mud fest about three to four times its normal length. I almost lose a shoe in knee-deep mud while carrying the canoe. I set the canoe down, retrieve my shoe, tighten both shoes, pick up the canoe and carry it and the pack across to Square Lake.

The west wind is pushing rollers across Square Lake under very dark low clouds as I paddle out into the main part of Square and head down the east shore looking for the outlet to Kawishiwi Lake. I miss it and must turn around and paddle back into the bay where it must be. It’s hidden behind a little corner and I’m not sure of it until I’m around the corner and into it.

I take my time and enjoy the paddle from Square to Kawishiwi Lake, imagining that Kawishiwi will really be rolling compared to Square. I pause on the journey to study the map while I have a ProBar (170 mg sodium) for lunch. I decide I can hug the west shore when I reach Kawishiwi and hole up at one of the two northwest campsites.

Kawishiwi Lake is actually quite benign compared to Square Lake, the west shore protected by hills and it’s an easy paddle to the landing and Kawishiwi Lake Campground. It begins to rain just as I get there, but the rain is light and brief.

Excerpt from “Song of Myself”, #52, Leaves of Grass, Walt Whitman

The spotted hawk swoops by and accuses me, he complains of my gab and my loitering. I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable, I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.

The last scud of day holds back for me, It flings my likeness after the rest and true as any on the shadow’d wilds, It coaxes me to the vapor and dusk.

I depart as air, I shake my white locks at the runaway sun, I effuse my flesh in eddies, and drift it in lacy jags. I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love, If you want me again look for me under your boot-soles.

You will hardly know who I am or what I mean, But I shall be good health to you nevertheless, And filter and fibre your blood.

Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged, Missing me one place search another, I stop somewhere waiting for you.