The rain had stopped, but it was still overcast & gloomy this morning. The plan was to hit Crystal Lake and see if we’d have better luck fishing there.

Lt. Dan had a strike early, but wasn’t able to close the deal. Fittingly, that was as much luck as any of us would have on Crystal. So, we decided to head across to Spaulding Lake and look for the old prospectors’ cabin. The portage to Spaulding was slightly overgrown with some very moderate elevation change. I also thought some of the rock outcroppings on the southern shore were particularly unique.

The landing at the creek was deplorable! Large slippery boulders made exiting the canoe safely a dicey affair. After some erstwhile searching, Clay finally called out that he had located the cabin. The best way to describe how to find it is just follow the north side of the creek until you come upon the huge beaver dam, then walk straight up (north) the hill about 100 feet or so. (GPS coordinates N 48 3’ 9.98” W 90 12’ 45”)

This cabin was put together a lot better than most of the other old cabins I’ve run across in the BWCA. There were even pieces from an old stove with marking on it from 1885. A short distance away, was piled old garbage and cans. Unfortunately everything was too rusty to be able to discern exactly what they had been. Still, I think everyone was satisfactorily fascinated with this remnant of Canoe Country history.

Since we hadn’t any luck anywhere else, I decided to lead the crew down to Bench Lake to try for some brook trout. I didn’t know it until we got back to camp later that evening, but this portage did nearly cause a mutiny. The trail was easily followed, but there were so many overhanging branches and tight squeezes for the canoe making walking down this slick path an arduous affair.

Once there, our luck didn’t improve in the least. Even though fishing was horrible, we lingered on Bench for quite awhile; undoubtedly the portages back out made procrastination the word of the day. Cedar trees rimmed the shoreline of this quiet little lake with an impressive wall of large pines looming just behind. I don’t think anyone really took the time to adequately appreciate the beauty of this scene.

Mercifully we did make it back to camp without serious incident or delay. Hell bent to catch a fish, Clay & Ross stayed out fishing on Canoe Lake while the rest of us retreated back to camp. They were finally able to hook into a decent smallie to salvage a measure of dignity.

Once back in camp it was all about supper and getting dried out - which everyone did. This being our last night, (although we were all utterly astounded at how poor the fishing had been), we sat up telling stories enjoying each other’s company as the sun eventually disappeared over the western sky.

Daily travels, 6 portages totaling 386 rods.

Canoe Lake, Crystal Lake, Spaulding Lake, Bench Lake