Today was a travel day. Our tow was due 3 pm on Ensign tomorrow. We had debated the various scenarios. Travel back to Ima today and make the rest of the way Day 7. If we could, we wanted to get all the way to Ensign today and minimize any travel on the last day. We also were feeling pretty tired and a shower and cold beer began to factor into our decision making. After waking up about 7 am, followed by a cup of coffee with pork polenta, we started the chore of packing up camp. A large toad joined our efforts by guarding the blue barrel.

While some may enjoy packing up camp, I find it slightly melancholy as if something exciting is coming to an end. This is especially true towards the end of a trip. I don’t think my muscles had entirely forgiven me for the Poopland march and doing 6-8 portages didn’t seem like an easy task. We said goodbye to campsite number 1188 and pushed off heading for the northwest portage.

We were on the water before 9 am in relatively calm conditions. The travel day was mostly enjoyable as we recounted the portage locations and seemed to make pretty good time. There was a fair bit of canoe traffic coming the other way.

Portage etiquette is a lost art in my opinion. Several times we were midportage with packs on the far side when another group would beach their canoes next to our packs and begin to unload. One group even chose to put there packs essentially right next to ours. The same group started around a fifty rod portage when we were making our second pass across. There was no question what we were doing and which direction we were going. One individual from the rival group tried to portage their canoe the opposite direction as I was making my way with the We-No-Nah Encounter. It made for an awkward encounter in the middle of the portage. When we had deposited the first load on the far side, no one was in site so there was no mistaking that the portage was being used. I gave my counterpart an annoyed glance as a stepped into the brush and told them to keep moving. This happened maybe twice on the trip and I always debate on if I should kindly educate them that it is not only poor manners, it’s also against the rules. I’d have no reservations about throwing them under the bus if a ranger happened to be in the right place and time. I was taught if someone was on the portage, you waited until it was clear. On these occasions I just held my tongue, convinced if it turned into an argument, it would ruin my experience for the rest of the day. I nodded as they said hello and tried my best to hide the anger/annoyance.

We did run into a pair of very nice older men from the twin cities that were also headed back into Ensign. They weren’t the speediest and Grant earned some extra points for volunteering to carry several of their packs across one of the portages as we patiently waited for them to clear the portage. We also came upon a couple that looked familiar and quickly learned we had passed them on the narrow passage next to Hatchett lake four days prior. They were a pair of teachers from Wisconsin and had exited the Boundary Waters to resupply, only to pick up a new group of friends and head in for another week. What a wonderful schedule to have summers off that must be. A sizable perk to an otherwise very tough and underpaid profession in my opinion.

Another site was a large canoe we passed on Ima Lake. I had never before witnessed 5 people in one canoe! Fully loaded with mom at the bow and dad at the stern, three kids probably all under 10 helped paddle from the middle.

By early afternoon, we found ourselves on a large rock on the east side of Gibson Lake eating lunch. The 112 rod portage into Ashigan followed by the 54 rod into Ensign was all that remained. We hauled the barrel to the top of the rock and promptly finished all of the jelly and bread that remained.

We hit Ensign in between 2 and 3 pm. The wind was moderate east to west which made the stretch easier. We were pleasantly surprised to find most of the sites on Ensign unoccupied. I had made a note based on my own research of several sites. We stopped by 1224 and Grant and Davis did a quick tour. “We can do better” was the consensus. Across the lake, 1225 had a multitiered rock ledge out front with a nice almost sandy takeout. The common area was nice and open with five or six trails away from the center. Just for completeness, I rounded the corner to check out 1226. The truly awesome thing about that site was the fire grate. Someone had clearly devoted a significant amount to time to building almost a hearth with two flat stones on either side serving as tables. I was surprised and annoyed to find a stack of papers in a Ziplock bag on one of the “side tables” held in place by a small rock. The first page read “Guide to Finding Jesus” or something along those lines. They had also wrapped paracord around some sticks to try to make somewhat of a rudimentary rake. While I’m sure the previous occupants were well intentioned, the Leave No Trace philosophy doesn’t exactly make exceptions for religious material or wilderness tools. If they didn’t haul it out, someone else would have to, and therefore they weren’t doing anyone any favors. I didn’t grab it at the time and had some regret now that I think back upon it for not disposing of it when I had the chance.

We opted for 1225. I had a little trouble finding two trees at the desired distance for my hammock. I ended up being about ten feet short so just extended one of my straps with another ENO daisy chain strap. I nearly broke my ankle as I hopped off one of the rock ledges and saw the ground slithering underneath my feet, narrowly missing a 3-foot garter snake.

I had read about great walleye fishing just to the west. Grant and I set off in separate boats and after several hours of not a single bite, we called it quits around 7 pm. Dinner was a combination of macaroni and cheese with mashed potatoes and you guessed it, griddle cakes. We ran out of “good” bourbon the night before and were down to our last bottle of Revel Stoke Pecan Flavored Whiskey. It had a strange similarity to Robitussin with a thick sugary taste. But any whiskey around a campfire is better than nothing and nonetheless we had a great last night discussing our final day. The tow was originally scheduled for 3 pm, but we wanted a chance to walk around Ely and do some shopping. A Garmin InReach message later, and we were confirmed for an 11 am pickup. We also learned there were some storms approaching.

After an obligatory cigar, we all turned in for the night. The storm hit around midnight and while not quite as severe as our first night, it was enough wind and rain to keep me awake. I made a mental note to never extend the hammock straps. The extra ten feet or so on one side lead to very little wind producing a heavy bounce in the hammock. I also misjudged the height and found my feet laying what felt like a foot above my head. It was once again not a great night of sleep. I had purchased a HammockTent from a small company out of Switzerland but given the lay is perpendicular to the hang line, I didn’t feel confident my current tarp would keep my feet and head dry. Maybe next trip.