I woke up to see a cold gray light streaming through the lower half of our window. Ryan and Jesse were still sleeping. Swinging out of bed, I got dressed. I put on my new rainproof pants, a bright yellow golf shirt, and my wide-brimmed hat. My compass hung at my waist, and my camera hung around my neck in a waterproof case. Headed for the bathroom, I walked outside. Looking up at the sky, I noticed the sky was overcast, and a slight breeze was in the air. The outfitter had mentioned a fifty percent chance of thunderstorms for that day. “I hope it doesn’t rain today,” I thought, “but I’m going to have a good time either way.” I silently prayed that the decent weather would hold up.

Slowly but surely everyone else made it out of their room. We began to finish packing. “I’ll help roll up the sleeping bags,” I volunteered. Grabbing one of the bags, I rolled the sleeping bag up in a tight cylinder and squeezed it into the stuff sack. Discovering that I had a knack for it, the others promptly elected me to that position. We soon had all the sleeping bags secured in one of the Duluth packs. As part of our complete outfitting, the outfitter had placed a quick start breakfast in our rooms, including fruit, cereal, and bars. I ate as much as I could but I had a severe case of butterflies in my stomach. Jared pulled out a plastic bag from his pack. “Mandy made some cookies for me. Anyone want some?” We all made a beeline for them, since Jared’s wife Mandy is a great cook. I took a few bites of mine but couldn’t eat any more due to the said butterflies. I tied an apple in my bandanna for later.

We had a quick conference. Mike and I broke the map out, took a glance, and decided that by hugging the north shorelines of the islands we could hit the far shore of Saganaga and paddle straight up to American Point. It actually looked to be a rather manageable paddle. We promptly emptied out of the paddlers’ lodge and hauled all of our gear down to two loaded trailers that contained our canoes and the rest of our equipment. The outfitters would be driving us to our starting point at the end of the Saganaga Channel, commonly called “81 Landing.” Deb Marks, the owner of Seagull Outfitters, strolled out of the main building to introduce herself to us. We all greeted her. “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Deb. It’s been great working with you so far,” Grandpa said. “You sure do know how to hire good staff.” “Thank you,” she responded. “If you don’t mind, we’d like to take a picture of you all for our records.” “No problem!” we all said. After the picture was taken, we said good-bye to Deb and piled into the two SUVs that were hitched up to the trailers. Two of Deb’s employees drove us a little further down the Gunflint Trail and stopped at 81 Landing. I hopped out and broke out my camera to capture the moment.

I could see that we were parked right near end of a narrow channel. The water was clear and calm, and I could see two cabins perched on the rocky outcrop across the water. The wind had died down somewhat. We all stood around and waited as the young men hauled our canoes down to the shoreline and started loading them up. They carefully arranged the packs, bear barrels, fishing poles, and other things in the canoes to maintain an even distribution of weight. Jesse and Grandpa climbed into the three-seater canoe, with Jesse sitting in the middle and Grandpa in the stern. Paddling out a little ways, Grandpa turned around and brought the front of the canoe up so I could hop in the bow. The employees pushed us out, and we were on our way.

I cannot describe to you the way I felt as the dream I had had nearly a year before was finally realized. I was filled with emotion and energy. Whooping loudly, I made sure everyone else knew that. “Hi-why-enne-meene-key-key-oo-cha-cha-anna-pee-wha-wha!” I hollered, calling the distress call from Growing Inside Outside. “Ay-dee-ee-dee-eye-dee-oh-dee-you-who!” Jared responded. I could tell he felt the same way I did.

Grandpa and I turned the canoe in the right direction and waited for everyone else to disembark. Before my eyes, the Saganaga Channel stretched out in a long ribbon of water. I could see cabins on both sides all the way to where the channel narrowed. “Grandpa, I can’t tell you how wonderful it is to finally be here. I’ve waited almost nine months for this moment,” I said, glancing back at him. “I know how you’re feeling,” Grandpa replied. “Memories of this paddle are coming back to me too. I used to have this same feeling every time we embarked. I’m back, Joe!” I smiled. To hear that from Grandpa assured me that we were blessing him already, not even ten yards off the landing. I glanced back at Jesse. He didn’t say much but I could tell he was excited as well. All boy just like his grandpa, Jesse was taking his first adventure into the wilderness. I am sure it won't be his last. Finally, the last canoe was shoved off. Deb’s employees hollered good-bye to us and hopped back into the SUV’s to drive back to Seagull Outfitters. We began stroking down the channel.

Jared and Amy paddled nearer to us. “How does it feel?” I asked Amy. “It feels great!” Amy called back. “I think I’m finally getting the hang of paddling in the rear,” Jared stated. “Tom, am I doing this correctly?” “Yes, you are,” Grandpa stated after watching him for a while. “Why?” “My father-in-law took me out and gave me a lesson when we were at the cabin and had me doing the dumbest thing with my paddle. I figured out right as we started that his technique would never work,” Jared explained. We chuckled. “You’re doing it right, Jared. Keep up the good work!” Grandpa encouraged.

As we paddled down the channel, I still saw cabins perched on the rocky shorelines, with charred trunks protruding from the ground a lot closer than I would have liked if I was a cabin owner there. “Cabins are allowed on the channel,” Grandpa stated. “My old outfitter used to be on this channel but they’ve torn his place down. I can’t remember where it is now. It’s amazing that so many of these places survived the fires. They must have sprinklers on their roofs.” “Let’s slow down a little and let Mike, Becky, Ryan, and Rachel catch up," I suggested. We slacked off a little to allow the others to catch up. I grabbed my water bottle and took a drink. The outfitters had placed ice in the water bottles to keep them cold and refreshing. “What a nice touch!” I thought. The others finally caught up within shouting distance. “Watch out for rocks! Some of them aren’t that far beneath the surface!” Mike called. “We’ll do that!” I hollered back. Then, in a sort of cluster, we all continued to head down the Saganaga Channel.

I began to think about Mike. Over the course of my life, I had learned that a man must be a protector and provider for his family. Mike was an excellent example of those two things. While I knew that the wilderness was not his passion, I did know that Mike had come along to watch over and protect his family and his father. For this, I respected and admired him.

The cabins were fewer and fewer now, and I began to see more trees. In a continuous motion, I leaned slightly forward, dipped my paddle into the water, dug deep, lifted it out, and repeated the same motion again and again. The paddle fit my hand perfectly. I had brought gloves so my hands wouldn’t get blisters, but after two minutes of wearing them, I put them away. I loved the feeling of the paddle in my hand. A motorboat raced down the channel, and upon seeing our party slowed down to reduce the wake we’d have to paddle through. “Motors are allowed on parts of Saganaga,” Grandpa said, “but you can only have a twenty-five horsepower motor or less.” “The outfitters offered a tow boat service,” I put in, “but I think we should do just fine without it.” “Totally,” Grandpa responded. “We don’t need that.” As the motorboat passed us, Grandpa hollered a greeting and asked where the channel ended. The boater pointed north, telling us we couldn’t miss it, and with a roar continued on down the channel. The channel gradually widened. There were no homes now, and it was starting to feel more and more like a wilderness. I glanced at the far shoreline. Stripped tree trunks still stood, but a thick layer of pine and deciduous trees was growing up. In a few years, there would be no sign of a fire. “Isn’t that amazing?” I said, snapping a picture. “It really is,” Grandpa said. “Look at how fast the forest is coming back.” “When I come back in twenty years it’ll be just the way it used to be,” I said as I put my camera away and continued to paddle. We were leading the procession. The channel narrowed down to a small inlet and then widened out again. I saw a black and white bird swimming a couple of yards away. “Look, it’s a loon!” I said to Grandpa. We watched as he swam around and ducked under the water as we got closer. As we paddled along, a caravan of canoes came down the channel headed the other direction. “You headed back in?” Grandpa called. “We are!” the response came. “How long have you been out?” “Five days, and we had a blast!” the lady responded. Their big smiles told us they were telling the truth.

Soon, we found ourselves paddling in an incredible expanse of water punctuated by many islands. “This is Saganaga Lake,” Grandpa told me. “Really?” I said, glancing around. “This isn’t how I imagined it. I know this trip is going to change my whole mental picture of the Boundary Waters.” "I'm sure it will, Joe," Grandpa laughed. “Hey, we’re on Saganaga now!” I called to the others. “That’s great!” Jared called back. “We should be at our camp site in about two hours now.” I whipped my compass out of its case on my belt and took a quick heading. Pointing in the correct direction, I headed off in a northwesterly direction, threading through the islands. The others followed us. The trees were much bigger now. I could see that the islands were rough and rocky, but that didn’t stop the trees. Grounding their roots in the hard soil, they majestically stretched high into the sky. The sky was still overcast, and a relatively strong breeze was blowing. “We’ve hit it pretty good,” Grandpa commented. “I’ve had some tough paddles on Big Sag before. One time a portion of this paddle took us three hours when it should have taken us one. The wind was really blowing that day.” “Do you recognize anything?” I asked Grandpa. Grandpa looked around. “I’m looking for Red Rock Bay right now. Once we see that, we just hit the shoreline and go straight up. I don’t see it yet.” We continued to paddle northwest for about a half an hour. “I think that might be the island where one of my students cut her foot,” Grandpa said indicating an island up ahead. I hollered the good news to everyone. We rounded the island and continued to look for American Point. I began to wonder if we were on the right track. This didn’t seem quite right. I examined the map. “I don’t see the big part of the lake that I think we should be seeing,” I noted. “I don’t think we ever see the big part of the lake. The islands keep most of that hidden from view,” Grandpa answered. “Really?” I said, taking a second glance at the map. I wasn’t so sure, but I didn’t let it worry me too much.

I continued to enjoy the beautiful surroundings. We were really in the wilderness now. The sun broke out of the clouds for a while and sent its warming rays flooding down on us. The sunlight touched the shoreline and set off the greens of the trees and the grays of the rocky, mossy shorelines. I leaned back comfortably in the canoe chair. The islands started to narrow and I thought I could pick out where we were on the map. If I was correct, we were actually approaching American Point that very minute. I informed the others of my discovery. “Yay!” Becky cheered. “That didn’t take long at all,” Jared added. “This is great!” “I’m not so sure,” said Grandpa. “Nothing looks familiar, and I don’t see the little bay that was right by our camp site.” We saw some campers on an island nearby. Paddling closer, Grandpa hollered to them on shore and asked them where American Point was. “It’s a couple miles away straight west,” they called back. Grandpa and I looked at each other. “A couple miles west? Are you sure?” Grandpa called back. “Uh-oh,” I thought.

The Storm

“Do you have a map? I can show you where you are,” the camper called from shore. Grandpa and I paddled in while the others waited for us a little ways out. I grabbed a hold of something on shore to keep the canoe in place, and Grandpa handed our map to the gentleman on shore. “You’re right here at Horseshoe Island,” the man said confidently, indicating a spot on the map. “Canadian Customs is just up that way.” “Really!” Grandpa responded. “How do we get over to American Point then?” “Just head through the islands in a southwesterly direction. Once you hit this open expanse of water here, you’ll be able to get your bearings.” “Thanks for your help!” I said as we pushed off.

Grandpa and I paddled our canoes back towards the others. We came up alongside Mike and Rachel’s canoe and Ryan and Becky’s canoe, and the adults started glancing at the map. Jared and Amy drifted a little ways away as Jared intently studied his map. “Are you sure the man was right?” Becky asked. “He was very confident and looked like he knew what he was talking about. I think he was right,” I said, pointing to Horseshoe Island on the map. “He identified his location as right here.” “This map doesn’t make any sense. It’s not fitting with the landmarks. I can’t tell where we are,” Mike said. “This is what comes for taking off too quickly without consulting the others,” Becky scolded Grandpa. “Sorry,” Grandpa said. “Let’s look at that map again.” The adults turned back to the map again, discussing all the possible options. I looked off across the lake. “Just help us to get to our campsite safely, Lord,” I prayed silently. Jared padded closer to us. “What do you think, Jared?” called Becky. “We don’t have a clue where we are.” “Well, I don’t think we could go wrong heading southwest. That’s the general direction of American Point,” Jared responded after consulting his map again. “Let’s do that,” Grandpa stated. We took a heading with our compasses and started weaving our way through the islands. I could tell that everyone was a little frustrated. “We acted way too quickly,” I said remorsefully. “You know, Joseph, you never get lost in the Boundary Waters, only bewildered. We’ll eventually find our way there,” Grandpa encouraged. “You’re right," I replied. We continued to paddle southwest, because that was the only direction we knew at that point. We wove our way around the many islands trying to get our bearings. Pausing, we continued to check our surroundings, but had no success. We saw two motorboats several miles away but never got close enough to wave them down. After about an hour of paddling, we eventually reached the edge of the islands, and I saw what I had been looking for so long. The large section of Saganaga Lake that I had seen on the map stretched itself before my eyes. I could see the Canadian side of the lake a couple miles to the north. “Hey, Grandpa, there’s the big part of the lake I was looking for! We’ll find our way now!” I said excitedly. “You’re right, Joe. Let’s keep paddling. The wind seems to be picking up a little,” he responded. “It’s a good thing Jesse has a paddle too.” “We need to check out your Boundary Waters book when we get to camp and read some proper methods of navigation,” Becky hollered from a little ways away. “You got that right!” I called back. “Let’s keep going.” We never got around to taking that book out.

After we had been paddling southwest for about a half an hour, the wind really started to pick up, and paddling got harder. Grandpa and I were way out in the front, and the others were quite a ways behind us. “Joseph, look over there!” Grandpa said, pointing to the southwest. I looked, and my heart froze. There coming straight at us was a line of dark clouds. The fifty percent chance of thunderstorms was turning out to be correct. The wind was getting stronger, right in our faces, and the waves started to get taller. Staring at that black line of clouds and not having a clue where we were, I have never felt so helpless in my life. Suddenly, a spine-chilling thought came into my mind. We were in a seventeen foot lightning rod. We had to get off Saganaga as soon as possible. I looked around and saw a small island to the east of us, within a reasonable paddling distance. “Let’s make for that island, Grandpa!” I yelled nervously. “We can make it to the other shore, Joe,” Grandpa responded. I looked, first at the opposite shore, then at the dark clouds. “No, we can’t. Grandpa, we’re heading for that island right now!” I said. “We’ll never make it, and I’m not getting hit by lightning!”

Grandpa saw the sense of what I was saying and turned the canoe in the right direction. Digging my paddle deep, I paddled as hard as I’ve ever paddled in my life. My adrenalin totally went off. I knew we had to get to shore. “In the name of Jesus! Protect us and keep us all safe!” I prayed to myself over and over again as I leaned forward, pulled the canoe paddle back with all my might, and then repeated the same motion. I’m shivering as I write this. Looking back, I realized that I’ve never been so terrified in my life. Grandpa and Jesse said nothing but both paddled as hard as I did. We finally got in the shelter of the islands again and made for the shore of the island. “There’s no place to beach the canoe!” Grandpa called over the wind. “We’ll have to find one!” I said. We paddled in and, finding a spot low to the water, made our landfall. The wind was growing stronger and the black line of clouds was getting closer and closer. I heard the distant rumble of thunder.

I jumped out of the canoe. My feet hit the water for the first time on the trip, but there was no time to be sentimental. I pulled the canoe part ways on shore and made it as secure as I could. Jesse climbed over the packs and jumped on shore. Grandpa also climbed out, and we both pulled the canoe securely in place. “Good thing this is an aluminum canoe!” Grandpa commented. “If it was a Kevlar, we’d have a hole in it right now.” “Yeah, right!” I said, thinking about the rough shoreline. “Where are the others? I hope they all get to shore in time!” I threw a couple of the packs ashore. Now that I was on land, I felt much safer and began to focus on helping the others get ashore. Just then, Jared and Amy pulled in. We found a spot and helped them beach. Amy hurried ashore. I could tell she was scared, and I didn’t blame her. The wind blew even harder, and rain started to fall just as the other two canoes made it in. None of us had our rain coats on, except Grandpa, but that didn’t matter right then. We helped Becky ashore and pulled the canoes farther in. “The canoes aren’t very stable!” Mike yelled. “We’ll have to make do,” I said. Ryan was sitting in the back of his canoe, completely getting buffeted by the wind and rain. We heard the first clap of thunder. “Get on shore, man!” I yelled. “Let Rachel get out first!” he yelled back. I couldn’t help but admire him for his gallant actions. We helped Rachel ashore, and then Ryan scrambled over the packs and onto land. “We need to get the rain gear out!” Becky shouted. We were already soaking wet, but hurriedly dug through the packs we had on shore. Some of the group had their rain coats more accessible and quickly got them on. The others had to wait, as the rain was coming down harder and harder.

After grabbing as much as we could, we made all haste for the shelter of the forest. Before heading up, Jared, Mike, and I pulled the canoes as far up as they would go. Mike stayed closer to shore for a while to keep an eye on the canoes. Thankfully, none of them drifted away. Amy, Rachel, Grandpa and Becky had formed into a little huddle to stay warm. Amy started crying. Jesse stood still, not saying anything. He was holding up really well. I was proud of him. Knowing this was a moment we would all want to remember, I took a picture. “He’s got the whole world in his hands….” Becky started singing. Grandpa and I joined in as boisterously as we could. “He’s got the Boundary Waters in his hands……..” Becky and Grandpa sang. I knew they were right. I glanced around our island and out at the lake. You could barely see across the channel due to the rain. The thunder shook the sky as lightning shot from cloud to cloud. “You know, we’d better move a little farther in,” I said, looking upwards. “We’re under the tallest tree in the area right now.” “Good call!” Becky said. We all moved in. The wind had died down substantially, but the rain, thunder, and lightning continued. “Let’s pray!” Grandpa suggested. “Dear Lord, we pray that you would keep us safe during this storm. Help us to be able to reach our campsite soon. In Jesus’ name, Amen.” I was soaked from head to toe, since I hadn’t got on my raincoat in time. I was used to it, having worked and played in the Washington rain for quite some time. My raincoat helped me stay warm and kept the rest of the rain off of me. My brother likewise seemed to be all right, as did Grandpa and most of the others. Mike had never gotten out his raincoat and stood there sopping wet saying nothing. Ryan was also soaked to the skin.

“Anyone want a candy bar?” Jared suggested producing a few Snickers bars. “Oh, Jared, you rock!” Becky said. “Where’d you get those, Jared?” Ryan asked. “I pulled them out of my pack and thought now might be a good time to eat them,” he responded handing one to each of us. We all laughed and ate heartily. I will never eat a Snickers bar again and not think of that stormy day on Saganaga Lake. I opened my waterproof case and took my camera from around my neck. “I’d better take a few pictures,” I said. “We’ll want to remember this later.” Despite our dire circumstances, we all smiled big, except Mike, who was the wettest of all of us. I didn’t blame him.

Taking the pictures gave me an opportunity to look at my surroundings. We were standing in a magnificent stand of red and white pine. Cedar trees were growing everywhere as well. I broke off a cedar needle and smelled it. The wonderful smell was invigorating. The rain, although unwanted, was refreshing. “Hey, let’s look at the bright side, folks! We have a lot to be thankful for,” I said cheerfully. “For one thing, we’re finally here in the Boundary Waters. Secondly, we got to take the scenic route to our campsite, and we’re probably never going to be in the forest like this for the rest of our canoe trip! This is the real wilderness.” I named about fifteen other things. “There, I just named about twenty things to be thankful for right there!” I said enthusiastically. I could tell that everyone agreed with me even though no one said anything. “I wonder if anyone’s ever been on this island,” Rachel pondered. All of a sudden we heard a loon calling from the lake. “Listen to that loon!” Amy said. He laughed once more, and then was silent. We all cheered up a little. The rain was still coming down hard, and there was no sign of the storm letting up. Mike and I went back down to check on the canoes. They were still stable. Jared hadn’t said much, but was staring and the map and evaluating our situation. “My watch picked a good time to die. Does anyone have a time?” Jared asked us. “It’s one-thirty,” Becky said glancing at her watch. “Well, we have plenty of time. That’s the one good thing about this situation. If this storm doesn’t let up, we may have to try to camp on this island,” Jared informed us. “Tom and Joe, let’s go and look around the island and see if we can find a campsite.” The three of us made our way down a rough trail. Our search was unsuccessful. “Tom, we need to get Mike into some dry clothes,” Jared said seriously. “He’s starting to shiver and I don’t like to think of what could come next.” “Good idea, Jared,” Grandpa agreed. “Becky’s getting cold too,” I added. “Jared, thanks for staying so strong,” Grandpa encouraged. “Yes. I’m sure glad that you came along,” I chimed in. “Oh, you guys, it’s the least I can do,” Jared assured us. As we headed back to the others, I began thinking about Jared. In the midst of the whole stressful situation, from the moment we found out we were lost up until now, he had never lost his cool. His example inspired me. We got back and urged Mike to get into some dry clothes. “I don’t want to get more sets of my clothes wet. What if I need them later?” Mike shivered. “If you get dressed really quickly and then get your rain gear on, you should be just fine,” Jared suggested. Mike agreed, Walking back to the shore, we found Mike and Becky’s pack. Mike dried off as best as he could and put on his rain coat. I could tell he felt better. “Becky, you’re next,” I said. “No, Ryan, you go ahead. I’m fine,” Becky replied. She was shivering and her teeth chattered together as she spoke. “Mom, I’m fine. You need to get dry,” Ryan insisted. Although I could tell he was struggling, he was holding up great. Becky also dried off and got some dry clothes on. Everyone else didn’t seem to be uncomfortably cold. I sighed with relief knowing that at least we were all somewhat warm now. We continued to wait for the storm to blow over, but just as we thought it had petered out, the sky would flash again. We were stranded on the island for about two hours.

After it seemed like an eternity had passed, a ray of hope literally broke through. “Look, everyone,” Jared said as he pointed to the northwest. “You see that light there? I think this storm is almost over.” I looked to the northwest. A spot of light was breaking through the dark clouds. It illuminated the island and our hearts. “Thank you, Lord!” I thought. The rain finally stopped, and we made our way down to shore, only to find that our canoes were filled with water. “Oh, dear,” Becky sighed. “I guess we’ll have to bail them out,” Jared said. Jumping right into action, he hopped into one of the loaded canoes, dumped out his water bottle, and started bailing. Grandpa, Mike and I were able to turn over some of the canoes so the water could run out. The girls and Jesse packed everything up and made sure we left nothing behind. “We’re leaving no trace even on this island,” Becky said. We all laughed. Convinced the storm was finished, we loaded up all the canoes again and pushed off into Saganaga Lake. After being stranded for two hours, we were finally on our way again.