Friday, October 07, 2016: The clouds I had seen at sunset advanced during the night, because at some point I woke to heavy rain, which alternated with lighter rain through the night. It had gotten much colder, so I pulled on my down vest and extra socks. When a very faint light illuminated the tent, I dressed and crawled out to find the "light rain" had been sleet, and that big, sloppy snowflakes were falling. Lulled by good weather, I had not bothered to set up my tarp, so the Duluth pack's canvas was soaked. Working with my headlamp in the half-light, I strung the tarp, made coffee and oatmeal, and wondered what full daylight would bring. As it turned out, the thin daylight showed a wind-whipped lake, half-obscured by mist and snow showers. As the precip tapered, I slowly packed up my outfit.

With its bay-pocked shoreline and speckling of islands, Little Sag can be a navigational challenge, and degraded visibility was not helping. But rather than follow a safe course around the western shore, I opted to try a more-or-less straight shot toward the portages to Gabimichigami. This was a mistake, because I paddled almost straight east, rather than north-northeast, and quickly became disoriented among the bays and islands. I compounded this error when I finally took out my compass and, upon finding it at odds with my sense of direction, decided the compass was broken. Rain fell intermittently and it began to blow strongly out of the northwest as I bumbled around. I finally paddled past a campsite, pulled in to brew some tea, and decided it was unwise to proceed. As the day wore on, some sun finally showed and I was able to reckon up my position (campsite 821). Rattled by the weather and navigation errors, I didn't feel any will to push on. I pitched the tent and settled in.

This was a beautiful island site. Situated at a narrow neck, a 15- or 20-rod trail cuts across the island to a small bay with a sand beach. It is no doubt in high demand during the summer, but I saw no other paddlers this day.