BeaV’s 2017 Kruger Challenge, Border Route Solo Speed Record
by BeaV
Trip Type:
Paddling Canoe
Entry Date:
09/01/2017
Entry Point:
Little Vermilion Lake (Crane Lake) (EP 12)
Exit Point:
North Fowl Lake (EP 70)
Number of Days:
4
Group Size:
1
Discuss Trip:
View Discussion Thread (27 messages)
Part 5 of 5
Day 4 Tuesday, September 05, 2017
More lakes come and go until I complete the last lake of any size- 7-mile long Mountain. Almost across and the sun is still fairly high in the sky. This excites me because maybe, just maybe I can reach the English Portage Rapids on the Pigeon River before dark. I don’t want to tackle a mile of rapids in the dark. I push harder now with the thought of that incentive. Reaching Fowl Portage, I now commit 100% to reaching Lake Superior nonstop. I throw away all but a handful of my remaining food saving just enough to snack on tonight to minimize weight. The one-mile long Fowl Portage sucks more of my precious energy from me. I launch into the Pigeon River and race hard to beat the darkness; I approach the first series of rapids and zip through getting stuck on only one rock. My boots are already soaked so I just wade in quickly not wanting the current to wrap my boat around the rock. Twilight is fading fast and it’s getting hard to see when I finally reach the last, biggest series of rapids. Halfway through these I have no choice but to turn on my headlamp to see what’s coming up. This is no way to run a rapids but it’s better than pitch black and I only get stuck in shallows two more times. I am super excited to have traversed these rapids and I know I will accomplish my goal now- heck I have all night to finish.
To Fort Charlotte, the Grand Portage trailhead, I go. Reaching the shore, I take my boots off and wring what water I can from my socks before retying my boots. I know the abuse my feet are about to endure because of wet boots. As quickly as my exhausted mind and body can perform, I pump one more pint of filtered water into my drinking bottle and repack my canoe pack incorporating my daypack and it’s contents all into one. With no food remaining and only one pint of water, my pre-trip calculations told me the pack should weigh 32 pounds now. I lift the pack slightly off the ground and I swear it must weigh 60-65 pounds. I think to myself “this can’t be” and finally accept it is for what it is and shoulder it. I figured I could walk the 9-mile Grand Portage in 3 hours if my load was light and my body rested. Neither are the case now but the need to finish this thing is strong. No time for rest and I hope to be able to go a mile at a time between breaks. On the first carry I couldn’t even go a mile. Tired, just too tired. Move again, stop again, move again, stop again. Where is the beaver pond? I know it’s only 2 miles down the trail. Finally I get there and I’m exhausted.
The trail is wet and clay mud holes slow me down, suck at my boots, and make me slip and trip like a drunk. At every rest my eyes want to shut. Immediately after dropping the weight I want to fall asleep but fight it back. “Gotta keep going” I tell myself. I slap myself in the face to try to stay awake. I yell at myself to “toughen up”, “keep going”, and “concentrate”. But the further I go the worse I get. It is like I’m falling asleep walking. The 12” wide slippery boardwalks are now obstacles and require extreme concentration not to fall off. “This is not like me I have great balance” I say. My mind slips further and further into another place- what place it is, I don’t know. I cannot balance, I cannot think, I cannot walk straight. I just want to close my eyes, just for an instant. “It’s a trick” I say, “don’t fall for their tricks BeaV”. Walking this in the dark, canoe blocking the world above me and headlamp casting light into the dark only a few feet in front of my path, it feels like I’m walking in a tunnel. Where is this tunnel taking me? My mind is drifting away and over and over I am confused as to where I’m at. But each time it eventually comes to me, “I’m walking on a trail, the portage trail, and I’m going to Lake Superior”. But to focus is so hard and my rest breaks increase in frequency. My body wants to shut down, even after a 10-minute rest, muscles and joints become stiff. Every restart is painful to get things working again with only a short time of progress before shoulder pains and muscle fatigue wants me to rest again. But to rest will only bring stiffness- there is no happy medium. This cycle continues for what seems like all night and I fear daylight will come soon.
I start planning for the end of the portage. What will I do? My plan is to just get to the finish, walk up to the closed Fort, drop all this pain-producing weight, and collapse on the ground. The opportunity to close my eyes is all I want. Suddenly, the night silence comes to an end as a car or truck motors down Highway 61 right in front of me. Awesome! This means I’m nearing the Fort. With renewed enthusiasm, I make a push toward the end and try for no more rests which doesn’t work. Nearing the Fort, I see a car parked nearby with running lights on. I’m thinking this can only be tribal security at this time of night. At the Fort’s gate, I institute my plan- gear is dropped and I hit the “I’m OK” message on my Spot device indicating my official finish time. I kneel on the ground alongside my canoe pack and lean on it so I don’t fall over. I see the security guard coming my way and try to think of an argument to convince him to just leave me alone, let me sleep here in the grass for a little while. I’ll promise to get out of site before tourists arrive in the daylight. The security guard emerges into range of my headlamp and turns out to be our Challenge volunteer, Lori Johnson. A welcome site- a friendly face that can confirm I finished. Lori tells me to hit my Spot message and I tell her I just did. I ask her for the time and she says I arrived at 4:00 am. She doesn’t like my sleeping plan and convinces me to let her drive me to the casino hotel and book a room. A few finish photos are taken. On the short drive to the hotel, we do the math- September 2nd 9:05 am to September 6th 4:00 am equals 91 hours. 91 hours is the new second-fastest recorded time from International Falls to Grand Portage Fort. I will claim that record now and be proud of it. Can I close my eyes now? Yup, go ahead.
Day 4 begins with the knowledge that today is it. I have today and tonight to find my way to Lake Superior. Plenty far to go with three of the toughest portage to come- the 725-rod Long Portage, the 390-rod Fowl(aka “Foul”) Portage, and of course the 2,880-rod Grand Portage. These three portage names correctly describe what’s to come- “long, foul, and grand”. I am still in the same mode of travel- don’t worry about the clock but now I have no choice but to accept where today must end. It has to be on Lake Superior by tomorrow morning 9 am. Start crossing the lakes off and see what happens. A half a dozen lakes and portages later, I reach Long Portage. This will be a good test of my portage strength to give me an idea of how I will fare on the Grand Portage. “Dang my packs are heavy” I say as I load up. Days of sleeping wet, taking down camp wet, and just plain soaking rains have all my gear heavy. I want to do this 2-mile plus portage without stopping to rest. But what I want and what I have left to give are two different things and I struggle to make it across with only one rest. “Damn it” that’s not what I want.
More lakes come and go until I complete the last lake of any size- 7-mile long Mountain. Almost across and the sun is still fairly high in the sky. This excites me because maybe, just maybe I can reach the English Portage Rapids on the Pigeon River before dark. I don’t want to tackle a mile of rapids in the dark. I push harder now with the thought of that incentive. Reaching Fowl Portage, I now commit 100% to reaching Lake Superior nonstop. I throw away all but a handful of my remaining food saving just enough to snack on tonight to minimize weight. The one-mile long Fowl Portage sucks more of my precious energy from me. I launch into the Pigeon River and race hard to beat the darkness; I approach the first series of rapids and zip through getting stuck on only one rock. My boots are already soaked so I just wade in quickly not wanting the current to wrap my boat around the rock. Twilight is fading fast and it’s getting hard to see when I finally reach the last, biggest series of rapids. Halfway through these I have no choice but to turn on my headlamp to see what’s coming up. This is no way to run a rapids but it’s better than pitch black and I only get stuck in shallows two more times. I am super excited to have traversed these rapids and I know I will accomplish my goal now- heck I have all night to finish.
To Fort Charlotte, the Grand Portage trailhead, I go. Reaching the shore, I take my boots off and wring what water I can from my socks before retying my boots. I know the abuse my feet are about to endure because of wet boots. As quickly as my exhausted mind and body can perform, I pump one more pint of filtered water into my drinking bottle and repack my canoe pack incorporating my daypack and it’s contents all into one. With no food remaining and only one pint of water, my pre-trip calculations told me the pack should weigh 32 pounds now. I lift the pack slightly off the ground and I swear it must weigh 60-65 pounds. I think to myself “this can’t be” and finally accept it is for what it is and shoulder it. I figured I could walk the 9-mile Grand Portage in 3 hours if my load was light and my body rested. Neither are the case now but the need to finish this thing is strong. No time for rest and I hope to be able to go a mile at a time between breaks. On the first carry I couldn’t even go a mile. Tired, just too tired. Move again, stop again, move again, stop again. Where is the beaver pond? I know it’s only 2 miles down the trail. Finally I get there and I’m exhausted.
The trail is wet and clay mud holes slow me down, suck at my boots, and make me slip and trip like a drunk. At every rest my eyes want to shut. Immediately after dropping the weight I want to fall asleep but fight it back. “Gotta keep going” I tell myself. I slap myself in the face to try to stay awake. I yell at myself to “toughen up”, “keep going”, and “concentrate”. But the further I go the worse I get. It is like I’m falling asleep walking. The 12” wide slippery boardwalks are now obstacles and require extreme concentration not to fall off. “This is not like me I have great balance” I say. My mind slips further and further into another place- what place it is, I don’t know. I cannot balance, I cannot think, I cannot walk straight. I just want to close my eyes, just for an instant. “It’s a trick” I say, “don’t fall for their tricks BeaV”. Walking this in the dark, canoe blocking the world above me and headlamp casting light into the dark only a few feet in front of my path, it feels like I’m walking in a tunnel. Where is this tunnel taking me? My mind is drifting away and over and over I am confused as to where I’m at. But each time it eventually comes to me, “I’m walking on a trail, the portage trail, and I’m going to Lake Superior”. But to focus is so hard and my rest breaks increase in frequency. My body wants to shut down, even after a 10-minute rest, muscles and joints become stiff. Every restart is painful to get things working again with only a short time of progress before shoulder pains and muscle fatigue wants me to rest again. But to rest will only bring stiffness- there is no happy medium. This cycle continues for what seems like all night and I fear daylight will come soon.
I start planning for the end of the portage. What will I do? My plan is to just get to the finish, walk up to the closed Fort, drop all this pain-producing weight, and collapse on the ground. The opportunity to close my eyes is all I want. Suddenly, the night silence comes to an end as a car or truck motors down Highway 61 right in front of me. Awesome! This means I’m nearing the Fort. With renewed enthusiasm, I make a push toward the end and try for no more rests which doesn’t work. Nearing the Fort, I see a car parked nearby with running lights on. I’m thinking this can only be tribal security at this time of night. At the Fort’s gate, I institute my plan- gear is dropped and I hit the “I’m OK” message on my Spot device indicating my official finish time. I kneel on the ground alongside my canoe pack and lean on it so I don’t fall over. I see the security guard coming my way and try to think of an argument to convince him to just leave me alone, let me sleep here in the grass for a little while. I’ll promise to get out of site before tourists arrive in the daylight. The security guard emerges into range of my headlamp and turns out to be our Challenge volunteer, Lori Johnson. A welcome site- a friendly face that can confirm I finished. Lori tells me to hit my Spot message and I tell her I just did. I ask her for the time and she says I arrived at 4:00 am. She doesn’t like my sleeping plan and convinces me to let her drive me to the casino hotel and book a room. A few finish photos are taken. On the short drive to the hotel, we do the math- September 2nd 9:05 am to September 6th 4:00 am equals 91 hours. 91 hours is the new second-fastest recorded time from International Falls to Grand Portage Fort. I will claim that record now and be proud of it. Can I close my eyes now? Yup, go ahead.
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