We woke to a thick blanket of fog over the whole campsite. We were just planning on going to Cherokee anyway so we took our time with morning coffee. We waited for the sun to burn the fog away. My pack was still oily, but we had enough spare garbage bags to partition the good food from the unsalvageable grease mess. Bad things typically happen in threes we guessed, and with the broken paddle, fallen tree, and exploded oil we figured we were all clear for the rest of the trip, and we were. We took the short 35 rod portage down into Long Island and had a leisurely paddle down to Cherokee. We arrived in Cherokee before noon, and picked out the furthest south campsite in order to make our last day an easy one. We were the most tired this day, as we didn't eat much the day before and the hot sun encouraged us to find some shade. We made camp early and cooked some cheesy bacon hashbrowns for lunch. I don't think we even got up from our chairs until after dinner. We simply relaxed in the sunshine and breathed the powerful scent of the pines around us. We had quite a few people pass our campsite, looking dejected that they had to turn around and paddle back to the north end. With such a beautiful view at Cherokee, I'm not at all surprised at how busy the lake was. Also, this campsite had the worst latrine I have ever encountered. We called it the jungle bathroom because you literally had leaves in your face and bugs everywhere. I do not personally carry bug spray and blast the area before those duties, but others much wiser than I make a habit of it, and I think they are on to something. We checked the weather and decided to head back home instead of spending another night on Sawbill. We were in for thunderstorms and all voted against heading in soggy.