Boundary Waters, Trip Reports, BWCA, Stories

Loop with Lepus not Lupus
by inspector13

Trip Type: Paddling Canoe
Entry Date: 09/20/2014
Entry Point: Kawishiwi Lake (EP 37)
Exit Point: Sawbill Lake (EP 38)  
Number of Days: 8
Group Size: 2
Part 2 of 3
Monday 9/22/14 Day 3: The portage trails were getting narrower and less obvious. The portage between Pan Lake and Panhandle Lake has two parallel trails. The best one to take, the westernmost one, is more apparent from the Pan Lake side. On the trail between the pond and Makwa I flushed out a grouse. It must have been irritated by the high pitched scratching noises made when closing in brush makes contact with Kevlar. The portage between Makwa and Elton was actually in the bay around the corner from the northernmost campsite on the right hand side, not really where it was marked on the maps.

Makwa was a pretty lake with rocky outcrops and cliffs, but the cliff jumping tragedy that occurred a couple years before entered my mind. Both Steve and I agreed we wouldn’t be tempted to do anything like that. Well, perhaps that smaller flat topped boulder that stood maybe 5 feet above the water.

I started to become dehydrated this day and was looking forward to getting to Little Saganaga for a layover day. I should have realized this as my lips began to chap and I didn’t have to pee for over 12 hours the night before. I made sure I drank more water for the remainder of the trip.

As we entered Little Saganaga you could see the scar of the Cavity Lake Fire on its north and eastern shores. We picked the campsite on the narrow peninsula jutting from the western shore. It was an above average site in my opinion. There was a nice southerly view and even a small sandy beach not too far from the tent and fire grate areas. A loon swam in the bay out front and serenaded us with its haunting songs. I was glad it hadn’t left yet as most of the trip seemed eerily silent so far. This was the latest I had ever been to the BWCAW and most of the song birds were already gone.

Tuesday 9/23/14 Day 4: We woke to a lake of glass. I sure was hoping for something similar the next day when we were to cross pretty much the entire width of Little Sag. I thought about asking Steve to possibly have a change of plans, but this was the day to rehydrate myself. There were some gnarly portages coming up and not too many campsites between Mora and Kelso.

Our layover day consisted of doing absolutely nothing, and I remember very little of it. Was I abducted by unearthly aliens and my mind wiped clean of it? Yeah right.

The couple things I do remember were the increasingly persistent chipmunks looking for a hand out, and the few lost items we found around camp. Those items include two lengths of cord between 18 and 24 inches, one of which came in handy later on in the trip, and a black shock cord. If they are yours and you want them back sent a self addressed stamped envelope to…Oh never mind.

Wednesday 9/24/14 Day 5: As a tiny bit of light began to illuminate the inside of the tent I could hear a breeze through the trees. Time to get up before the lake gets rough. As the sun rose we were treated to a rainbow! Was this supposed to be a sign? No watery deaths for us this day, for we made it across the lake without trouble.

This travel day was full of pleasant moments, and I was rested and hydrated enough to enjoy them. The portage into Mora followed a beautiful rocky gully. But don’t slip. It’s a drop to jagged rocks. We paddled close by a pair of loons on Mora; one of which had a silvery fish in its mouth. We realized they were parent and juvenile when the one fed the fish to the other. As we paddled by the campsite on Whipped Lake, we saw something swimming. Was it a large beaver? No. It was a small bear cub. As we approached, it promptly turned around and ran up the shore before disappearing into the woods.

When we started paddling down Fente we saw something else in the lake. People in a canoe. Their presence actually somewhat surprised us until we realized that this was an intersection with the Frost River route. When we reached the portage into Hub I waved the couple in. They were from the Madison WI area and were also going to double portage. We should have let them go first since they ended up paddling away on Hub before us anyway. It was the portage that tried to kill me. I made it up the hill with the canoe and traveled maybe 80 of the 300 rods when Balsam branches ripped off my glasses. I had to set the canoe down to catch my breath and I could feel the heat roiling off the top of my head. I could see that not only Steve was concerned about my stress, but also the couple as they passed by us. Steve continued to the other end while I went back to Fente for my packs. Even with just the packs the hill was killing me. Damn cigarettes. I’m glad I quit that habit before it was too late. I was feeling out of sorts when my cap came out of my jacket pocket. Little did I know that so did the compass and MP3 player. I was at the top of the hill when Steve met me going back for his pack. He told me to take it easy and rest on the Hub side because he didn’t want to carry out my dead carcass. Luckily for me Steve found the things I dropped. He also finished carrying the canoe over for me. As we paddled out onto Hub the couple from Madison was nowhere to be seen.

The campsite we took on Hub was located next to a marshy area, and a small island lay in front of it. As we set up camp a pair of loons that were fishing made their rounds; and so did the resident beaver. The beaver must have been annoyed by the presence of its new neighbors since it showed its displeasure with a tail slap. Yep. It sounds just like a large rock being dropped into the lake. Flocks of Canada Geese announced their flight south with honking. A couple of ducks flew by. And just as the sun was setting, another rainbow appeared! How weird. There must have been some mist or something between us and the sun both at sunrise and sunset. It was after that we heard it. An unidentified howl type noise. Was it a wolf on steroids with laryngitis? Usually other wolves respond to calls. Was it Lurch or Andre the Giant’s drunken ghost trying to howl like a wolf? Is Sasquatch real?