Thursday 9/25/14 Day 6: I didn’t rest very well last night. I thought I heard something heavy stumbling around on the thin rocky soil after we got in the tent to sleep. When Steve returned after relieving himself in the middle of the night, I asked him if he saw any monsters. I was only half kidding since I too needed to pee. Stupid heebie-jeebies. The earplugs came in handy though. I have since identified the sound we heard that night. I found a sound clip of a bull moose making a call which is exactly like what I heard. They are in rut this time of the year.

This would turn out to be another day with exceptional scenery. Mesaba, Hug, and Duck Lakes were surrounded by hills full of fall colors. It may have been peak for this area. Some of the largest White Pines I had ever seen were scattered about along the portage from Mesaba to Hug. The portage from Duck to Zenith had a bridge crossing a rocky creek bed near its start. The trail ended at the lake on a steep note. All the trails in this section had a deep tread suggesting heavy use in the past, but they were also very narrow and brushy. I was kind of taken aback when I began seeing several culverts on these portages. Have I just not been noticing things like these on the trails over the years? We were also seeing signs of past CCC work like sunken docks, or what have you, at a couple of portage landings.

By the time we got to the camp on Zenith Lake my right foot was feeling sore. My boot was rubbing on the tendon above the ankle bone. Oh Oh. I’ll have to figure something out. We have a 480 rod portage tomorrow. That’s a mile and a half just one way, and we need to double portage.

The campsite itself had a pretty park like setting nestled in a forest of mature White Pine and Aspen. The large population of resident red squirrels chattered constantly and seemed to be engaged in an on and off territorial dispute. The larger tent pad we used was half way down a rocky latrine trail. This night would be the only time we had a small campfire since our tent was located quite a distance away. It was a quick one though because we didn’t want to break a leg getting back to the tent in the dark.

Friday 9/26/14 Day 7: The red squirrels woke about the same time we did and began to go about their work. As I packed my sleeping bag and pad the squirrels dropped sticky pine cones around and on top of the tent. By the time we took down the tent the whole area, including the tent fly, was covered in sap. It was so bad that pine needles clung to the soles of our shoes like thick mud. I kid you not.

After trying out pads and bandages on my sore tendon, I decided it would be better to just wear my tennis shoe on that foot. It may have looked odd having on two different shoe types, but it was the right choice for a long morning of portaging, and it worked. When we got to the portage I told Steve I wanted to take my packs across first to get a feel for the length. I also wanted to scope out landmarks to give myself a psychological boost, so maybe I wouldn’t want to take a rest from the canoe too early. The trail started out uphill and then meandered up and down for the remainder of its length. About half way across there is a wetland and the start of the creek that leads to Lujenida. When you almost reach the end you get to a swampy part. This section was still flooded and the boards to the boardwalk were still floating in the water. We threaded around the area using the same rough route others had taken. I decided I was going to pass the remaining time we were going to have on this portage by listening to the MP3 player. David Grisman, Pink Floyd, Big Star, Limp Bizkit, The Shins, Lenny Kravitz, Heartless Bastards, The Carolina Chocolate Drops, PJ Harvey, The Gear Daddies, Amy Winehouse, The Flying Burrito Brothers, Paul Westerberg, Los Lonely Boys, and the Replacements all helped out on this portage. Steve though helped the most by getting the canoe up the initial hill for me, and then by finishing the carry towards the end; right before the flooded part where I finally had to put the canoe down.

The Kelso River was an interesting paddle and we navigated its passages with no trouble. We stopped at the Kelso Dolmen and both of us decided it could have been easily constructed with levers; and that it was of recent origin because of the sharp edges on at least one of the tripod pieces. We left it shortly after 12:30 and quickly met another canoe with little or no gear heading north. They were an unfriendly pair.

Although we had planned finding a campsite on Kelso Lake, they were already taken. It was pretty early in the day too. I guess the weather forecast was too much of an incentive to take a short jaunt into the BWCAW for people living relatively close. Just after the portage into Sawbill Lake we met a friendly woman out paddling with her 6 to 7 year old daughter (?) in the bow. We checked the campsites on the west bay of Sawbill and those too were taken. We started to resign ourselves to the idea that this might be our last day in the wilderness. Our backup plan was to return the canoe to the outfitters and drive back to Kawishiwi Lake for the night. In my mind I was thinking we might have to set up camp off an old logging road. But as we entered the main lake it looked like we might be in luck. Was the campsite by the portage to Smoke Lake truly not occupied? Yes! Our last night’s campsite was procured. After camp was set up another float plane passed by.

Saturday 9/27/14 Day 8: Steve wanted to linger. I wanted to get going. I hadn’t told him until then but I was concerned about the level of gasoline left in my car. I wanted enough time left in the day to beg, borrow, or steal enough gas to get to either the North Shore or my cabin. Besides, I’d see less people around my cabin anyway and my own personal paradise was calling. OK. So Sawbill Outfitters has gasoline, but at a price. I really had no choice; but damn, some people pay for showers. Capitalism at work I guess.

There were a couple of parties at the dock landing when we arrived. The woman with the young girl in the bow had just launched again too. The canoe was returned and debts settled among an atmosphere more hectic than the prior Friday afternoon.

On the drive back to the Kawishiwi Lake parking lot we saw several grouse. Their hunters too. Steve and I parted ways after putting my gear in my car, and after adding a couple gallons of gas to the tank. He needed to return the canoe mounting apparatus, and a gas can, to Sawbill before heading to Grand Marais. I headed west towards my cabin with cutting the grass and a few beers in mind. On my way I saw many people in the Superior National Forest enjoying the day. Just as I pulled into the driveway of my cabin where a couple of full gas cans were stored, my low fuel indicator lit up. And as I removed the gear from my pack another Beaver plane flew by.

Outro: I’m glad a trip with a relative stranger turned out so well. I learned that no cook, add boiling water only, and rehydrate in a cozy meals work for me. It saved on so much fuel I hardly used any of the white gas in my stove’s reservoir. I still prefer tripping in August when the days are longer and the water is warm enough to swim in though. I think a trip like this in more remote parts of the BWCA can provide relative solitude even in August. However, you have to work for it. I was surprised at the amount of airline traffic I could hear in this area even at night. I’m not the type of person that likes to play pretend when visiting the BWCAW. I just can’t remember hearing so much of it in the past.