Video of some of the trip highlights. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cZYqAjsytfw . Getting to Ely, MN this year was no small feat. With a viral pandemic still yet to hit its height, even the prospect of air travel brought some skeptical stares from coworkers and concerned glances from friends. There was also the question of whether I'd be required to quarantine for two weeks upon my return. That would have translated into two weeks of personal vacation time and with a wife expecting our third child in the next several months, that would have been a trip killer. After some deliberation, the answer was thankfully "no quarantine required" from work as long as I remained asymptomatic. I assured everyone that I was safer in the middle of the wilderness than at work or even at home...well safer from the virus at least. My wife being thirty weeks pregnant, even with a two-year-old and four-year-old at home, knew how much this trip meant to me. As she continued to encourage me to make it happen, I knew the price of single parenting for a week was enormous. Without her sacrifice, none of it would have been possible. For the past three years, I've made the annual pilgrimage to Ely. The area has a cult like following and as a member of that group, BWCA.com has become a daily ritual. My nightly addiction is to scour the gear sales and talk myself into buying more equipment I definitely don’t need. The ironic thing is I've never actually bought anything from the threads, but what begins as research into a canoe, or pack, or tent and sooner or later, translates into me being the proud owner of something new. The gear pile grows, and I meticulously begin to plan every pound for a trip that is sometimes months away. My first trip to the BWCA was several decades ago as a Boy Scout. I have always had fond memories of that trip, but more than that, for years I longed to go back and paddle the waters for reasons I can’t quite explain. The connection is something that is hard to describe. I remind myself at the end of a trip of how sore I am from days of paddling or how much my neck and back ache from sleeping in the wilderness. Yet as soon as it's over, my mind catapults ahead a year in advance and I contemplate how I can make next year's trip that much more epic and enjoyable. I know I'm not the only one who feels the pull as I read about it described countless times on the forums. The big debate I had with myself this year centered around outfitting. As my gear cache grows, I find a much smaller need to rent equipment. Traveling by air from Florida answers certain questions. My newly acquired Souris River Quetico 17 would have to stick to the Orlando waterways for now. Food is another matter. My anxiety level was higher this year leading a group and being in charge of everyone's menu. Will there be too little food? Too much? Not enough variety? Too many choices (i.e. too much weight)? The questions raged in my mind but a quick search of the forums indicating countless others who had shared the same experience with more seasoned minds guiding us through the process. After much deliberation and more than a few questions asked on the forums, I took the plunge and purchased Dan Cooke's barrel bag. The separate zippered pouches were also purchased and they were a huge help in organization and dividing the meals. Shipments from Camp Chow and PackItGourmet soon followed. Days at work grew longer as I would get an email notification that a package had arrived at the house. Like a kid on Christmas morning, I would rip open the packages as soon as I got home and navigate how they fit into my trip plan. My dining room became the war room with gear constantly shifting from one pile to another. As my annual outing has grown more regular, so have the participants. It seems every year there are multiple people interested, but as life gets in the way, family, work, or some combination typically dwindles the crowd as the deadline approaches. My two brothers-in-law, Grant and Davis, have been all in for about a year now. I tripped with Grant in 2019 through Quetico and Davis in 2018 on the south arm of Knife Lake. Each of us married one of three sisters. While our wives are very different, their general disdain of fishing, bugs, and tents (I didn’t say outdoors) has fostered a brotherhood out of necessity between the three husbands. It didn't surprise me very much how well we all get along given our love of these types of trips. While my wife still insists she will go camping if we can find a place that doesn’t have bugs, I haven't been able to quite work that one out yet. What was potentially a group of six paddlers slowly dropped one by one as other commitments forced friends and family members to stay home this year, until there were only three paddlers left, myself, Davis, and Grant. Once the three of us were committed, we narrowed down our entry point. I've been a fan of LaTourells in the past as well as Voyageur North. The experiences have been great. While it may be atypical, I like to try out a different outfitter each year and meet new people. This year it was Williams and Hall. The immediate perk is a lodge right on the waters of Moose Lake. I find myself so amped up the morning we depart for a trip. Getting on a bus/van for any period of time the morning we get on the water has always been hard for me to stomach. The anticipation is kind of like a kid waking up on Christmas morning and being told you need to stay in your room another hour. Getting on the water right away has an allure to me that is hard to beat. Another selfish reason is memories of that Boy Scout trip. While I can't remember exactly where we stayed, I have vivid memories of swimming off a dock with a large lodge right on the water. The last reason is QueticoMike. I figured if I wanted to catch fish, I've got to sleep where the pros sleep. Williams and Hall seem to fit the bill.