I got a good 7 1/2 hours of sleep, interrupted by thunder and heavy rain against the roof when the front blew through overnight. It was foggy and damp when I woke, changed clothes, and ate a couple doughnuts as I went back into town. Adam from Piragis opened the outfitting shop as early as he could to issue our BWCA permits and by 6:15 we were in the car and headed towards International Falls.

  We pushed off into Rainy Lake from the public boat ramp south of Enos Island just after 9am. The weather front had passed and the fog burned off into a nice sunny morning. Winds were NW at 5-10, and once out onto Rainy Lake I got my first taste of rolling waves coming in a mostly favorable direction. Not too big, but the interference in the lee of small islands did amplify a few in places; and occasionally I could feel the cresting wave behind me pick up the boat and then quickly decelerate my forward progress as the canoe fell backwards down the trailing face. I changed gears to try and match the speed of the waves and to my surprise the canoe began to surf a bit. If you went straight downwind you would plow the bow into the wave in front of you. If you were at too far of an angle off wind, the following wave would not surf the boat but instead spin the rudderless canoe around to broach sideways. It was a delicate balance to get maximum push from the waves while at the same time maintaining course.

  There are some beautiful lodges and homes on Rainy Lake: with room to park all your friends’ floatplanes and boats out front! After 5 miles I waved farewell to BeaV and headed south to Black Bay towards the Gold Portage with Mzee close behind. With the NW wind, I was worried about the bigger parts of Rainy Lake, and thought the alternate route south through Kabetogama Lake as a much safer option. A tailwind pushed me across Black Bay and towards the lower Ash River.

  As I approached the outlet of the river, I was dismayed to find it completely choked with cattails and bulrushes sticking 8 feet above the water. I paddled back and forth looking for the river channel but could not find it. Mzee caught me here and he didn’t know where it was either. I got out of the boat and climbed a small hill on shore, but looking down the bay I just saw endless cattail grasses stretching up and around the bend. I double-checked maps, and knew without a doubt this was where the river came from. I considered whether it would be wise to bushwhack portage along the shore instead of trying to wade through the grass. Eventually, Mzee and I both chose to plow head-on into the grasses about 15 yards apart from each other and try to get through. Strategy with this was to sit in the boat grasping handfuls of cattails on either side of you and pull hard, forcing the bow to cut a path- 12 inches at a time- through grasses far taller than you could stand-up to see over. I was mentally preparing to do this up the entire river channel. It got thick enough where I had to get out of the boat and push from the back while standing on the bent-over cattails and trying not to sink into the 3-4’ deep water. Suddenly the bow parted grass with open space on the other side. The channel! I got back in the boat and began paddling once again up the very clear river channel. I went in the direction of Mzee and could hear him thrashing grass about somewhere in there. I yelled that I had found it, and that he wasn’t far away and should keep heading forward. After he acknowledged this I knew he was all right and continued on. I wouldn’t see him for another week.

  The river wound for maybe a mile before the start of the Gold portage at a muddy bank. There was a small rapid of water cascading down from Kabetogama lake that the portage went around, but what killed me was that there at the base of the rapid was a flipping big motor fishing boat. I realized that obviously the channel did cut clear through the weeds to the lake; Mzee and I just couldn’t find it and took the hard way instead! Feeling sheepish at the mistake, there was nothing to do but laugh at myself and move on to the first portage of the trip.

  The portage wasn’t too bad. As it was the first day, my pack was heavy and my routine was slow. I exited on the upstream side of the rapids and was soon again paddling. When I left the head of the river, I paused to refill water before continuing out into Kabetogama Lake. While smaller than Rainy, this lake is still massive by canoe standards. It doesn’t seem that bad, though, as there are hundreds of small islands all over. I had a tail wind, and cruised southeast in the sunshine. It was Saturday, and there were many fishing boats darting in and out of the islands. A couple hours later and as I was nearing the Namakan River a few small rising thermal clouds developed. I could see some rain shadow behind and to the north of me, but I was still in the sunshine when I heard a low rumble. Probably an airplane. Then I heard it again a few minutes later and I realized it was from a small thunderhead that was chasing me across the lake. I talked myself into thinking it would stop but when I heard rumbling thunder the third time I knew it was time to get off the water. The other boats knew it too and had cleared off as I hightailed it towards shore. I sat at a campsite as I heard two more good rumbles from the cloud that looked like it might be breaking up. I took the time to re-fold my map, eat, and fill water bottles. After 15 minutes of no thunder a group of fishing boats waiting across the bay decided to get back out there. I waited 5 more minutes and then left as well. Nothing further from the cloud as it melted back into a mixed sky.

  I passed by Namakan visitor center and saw maybe 50 fishing and houseboats as I traveled through the narrows- usually bobbing over their wake as they sped by. Major channels of Rainy, Namakan, and Kabetogama lakes are marked with red and green navigation markers and buoys, which are also on the map- so navigation through the hundreds of small islands was surprisingly simple. I left the majority of motor traffic and paddled into the main basin of Namakan- with Canada again on the left shore. It was late afternoon now, and the NW wind had not abated. The rolling waves had a fair reach across the lake and grew to where I once again danced across their leading faces in my small canoe- sometimes with graceful forward motion, and sometimes being unexpectedly spun near 90degrees as both of us tried to lead the dance.

  I had a 1.5m pop-up sail in the bow that I could clip to a thwart and fly in case of a lucky downwind run. It was a gamble on my part to bring all 23oz of it with (dry weight- it was heavier when wet). While it couldn’t sail up, or cross-wind, it was easy to capture a tailwind and get a leisurely ride, but not a very fast ride: and it was often the case that simply putting down the sail and paddling a normal speed would be much faster. For about 3 miles in Namakan I had it up- holding the control rope behind my neck as I awkwardly paddled at the same time to try and keep both course and speed. For the weight penalty of bringing the damn thing, I’m not sure if it was very beneficial.

  As the evening waned, I tucked south into a bay headed toward the second and final shortcut portage of the day: Grassy Portage- a winter snowmobile trail that would save a few miles paddling around the corner of Namakan. It was marked and easy to find even as the evening sun began to meet the horizon. It is probably a great snowmobile trail, but it was not a great portage. The trail was wide, and while grassy, it was more bog-like than solid- with uneven hummocks providing dodgy footing. At times there were logs laying down that I tried to step on to avoid sinking to my mid-calf. I was still heavily loaded with all my food and at one point I sunk my right foot deep enough that I had to set down the canoe, drop my pack, and pull with both hands just to get my boot back.

   At the end of the portage, it was starting to get dark as I paddled grassy bay of Sand Point Lake. I was within single-digit miles of entering the BWCA, but my permit wasn’t valid until the next day. I had traveled much further than I had planned- because of both the tail wind and the early start. Time to find camp. Still in Voyageurs Park, I spotted an old campsite on one of the islands. It did not have an official sign like the other boat-in camps in Voyageurs, but looked good enough for me. Out front there was a crumbling stone-and-concrete dock from a different era: I saw a few similar relic campsites in grassy bay and wondered as to their history. It took me about an hour to change clothes, make camp and eat dinner by headlamp, and the mosquitos swarmed me as I did. I wondered if they would be a problem the whole week, but the few dozen bites I received on that first warm evening would turn out to be the last. The full moon rose above the trees, and I thought that it would be beautiful to be paddling the calm moonlit water rather than making camp while choking on mosquitos. Dinner was a dehydrated cheesy beans, rice, and fritos recipe from Andrew Skurka that is one of my favorite dehydrated meals. I washed it down with a protein shake before climbing in the hammock to fall asleep instantly after 42miles of travel.