Wednesday. When we arise at 6 AM the world is enshrouded in dense fog. We can barely see across the narrows. Everything in the tent is damp.

We waited until 8:40 to start out, mainly amusing ourselves by wondering if someone were paddling by (since we literally could not see them if they were.) When we pushed off the fog was still thick, but burning off slowly. It was nearly gone by the time we portaged out of Fire Lake. The portage into Fire is super-short; the portage from Fire to Lake Four is two short ones with a pond in the middle.

We saw many, many inexperienced paddlers zigzagging on Lakes Four, Three, and Two. Followed the northernmost finger out of Lake Two and camped near the dam at 11:45. We were stopping early on purpose, as this was our last night. We have had bright sun since Lake Three (10:30).

This is a nice campsite, fairly new and not all trampled down yet. Lots of blueberries. [This wasn't a campsite when we came by here in 1973, but I remember thinking it should be.] It is not on the superhighway, so it feels very secluded and remote. The view is from high up and we can hear the rapids.

While we were lunching, a man and two children came down from the dam area where they'd been fishing. He asked if we planned to go out that way and was shocked when we answered affirmatively. He then asked if we'd done it before. We have.

We shampooed, bathed, napped, etc. and about 3:30 we paddled up to scout the path through the woods around the largest rapids, and to the pond. It looks more traveled than nine years ago but definitely not a portage. I'm nervous about the series of rapids, but Neil is confident and it was fun before. At least we are at the end of our trip, so losing some of our gear wouldn't be as critical.

We ate our supper back at camp and sat around. No wildlife here, although it looks like such a likely spot. Saw a whole colony of ants on the move (in columns like an army) near the tent. Thankfully they bypassed our small home.

I've finished my trashy romance novel. (I've never read a trashy romance novel before, so that was another first.) The toilet paper is holding out, the margarine ran out yesterday, Neil now has BOTH shoes duct-taped together (the duct tape looks just terrible), and the seat is splitting out on my old Levis. Can't believe I forgot needle and thread!

The weather is hot and sunny with a nice breeze. The blue sky is so pretty and makes the water look bluer, but we do tire more easily in the hot sun.

I hate to see it end. It has been a beautiful, peaceful trip. Four days with congenial friends, five+ with companionable husband. I feel relaxed and at peace, and almost dread my re-entry into the real world, which always seems so abrupt.

I feel good physically. Neil and Smokey have lightened my load and the biking and conditioning that I did to prepare really helped. [This was during a thinner period for me, when I had lost significant weight and also biked around the countryside in Grand Haven for many, many hours.]

Highlights: bull moose, fresh fish, blueberries, portage from Adams to Elbow [Beaver], silver morning on Insula.

Difficulties: broken eggs, no needle and thread, need different balance with the protein and carbs for Neil, duct-taped shoes, marshy "beaver bogs."

I love to sit at the end of a portage and wait for the canoe. [This comment makes me think that I only carried one pack back in these days and Neil did his big pack first and the canoe on the second trip.] To see a spider, frog, or some small creature going about its work in its miniscule universe. To appreciate these tiny things in the whole of these fantastic surroundings makes me perfectly content and so thankful that I didn't let any fears, squeamishness, or timidity keep me from this fulfillment.

When we will get back here again??

[Note: We did return to the BWCA. Many times--a total of 22 times between 1985 and 2013. And the paragraph above was always true for as long as we were able to accomplish a trip in our own way. We still return to the canoe country every summer, stay in a cabin, and take day trips. In 1971 when I embarked upon my first wilderness canoe trip, I was afraid of dragonflies and spiders. Fifty years later I still thank my husband for helping me overcome my various fears, and for taking me out in a canoe to learn who I really am.],