LIS Loop 2019 - Rivers and Storms
by Gichimon
Trip Type:
Paddling Canoe
Entry Date:
07/14/2019
Entry & Exit Point:
Little Indian Sioux River (north) (EP 14)
Number of Days:
12
Group Size:
2
Discuss Trip:
View Discussion Thread (12 messages)
Day 4 of 12
Wednesday, July 17, 2019 Move days mean early mornings and slipping onto the water as the sun is breaking the horizon. Although this move day would not have any sun, the process remained the same. Krystal and I could set world records on packing up a campsite, a talent we discovered on our days of kayaking Lake Superior's Apostle Islands and trying to beat storms while moving from island to island. It was not long before we were gliding over the calm quicksilver water on a steely grey day.
Heading east, we navigated around some points and islands and back bays until we found the portage to Gun Lake. The portage was easy enough but as we are mostly not in any shape, we were still getting our trip legs under us so we took our time. And Gun Lake, what can I say, it's a jaw dropper! Those towering Tolkienesque cliffs break your heart.
Gun Lake's beauty inspired a slow motion paddle through its inky waters. The cliffs and the moody sky mirrored in the lake painted a magical mood as we slipped through on our way to Little Beartrack. And after that portage to Little Beartrack, we would both reflect that maybe we should have lingered longer.
Though a shorter portage, the portage to Little Beartrack would break our spirits for the day and nearly break my leg. We managed to get the boats across without any issue other than performing the miracle of navigating the boulder field that is the Gun to Little Beartrack portage. But when we made it back to the Gun side and began the march back with our heavily loaded packs, things went almost horribly wrong. I have always been a bit quicker than Krystal so I was a good 30 rods in front of her on the portage. And if ever someone should have followed their own advice, it was me on that portage. Always look down at where you are placing your feet. One moment of lapse and I plummeted with one leg being swallowed up to the thigh by a gap in the boulders. I had sick visions of snapping my femur in that moment but thank the Boundary Waters gods it did not happen. I struggled to pull myself out of the hole with my heavy pack doing its best to literally be the devil on my shoulders. I finally wormed my way out and just stood in one spot waiting for Krystal. I was going to make damn sure she knew that hole was there because the fear had seeped in fast and hard.
When she finally caught up with me, we gingerly made our way across the rest of boulder alley to the beckoning waters of Little Beartrack. We both agreed that if the one campsite was available on Little Beartrack, we were going to stay for the night. The sky was threatening rain, and my nerves were threatening exhaustion. Though it was a battered campsite, it was available and perfect. I mean, it perfectly echoed the way we felt and we knew we could make the best of the private little spot. Krystal's face in this pic sums up how we were feeling about that portage.
The campsite on Little Beartrack had taken a beating from some windstorm. There were trees down everywhere and we had to climb ourselves and our gear over trees to get on the site from the landing. We would later brave the slippery rockface to load our boats when we left because scaling the downed trees was challenging enough to only want to do it once. We found a nice flat spot nestled between some downed trees and some rocks for the Lean 3. We did have one rock inside the Lean but it was more a piece of artwork in the tent than a nuisance.
We rode out a mild rainfall in the tent. We had plenty of day in front of us so we chilled at camp, fished from shore some more, and generally enjoyed the solitude. It had been two days since we had seen another human. We would hit a six day stretch on this section of lakes below Lac LaCroix with no other humans in site. Still no luck fishing for me, but it was still early in the trip. My one goal was to catch my first BWCA walleye!
Following a delicious Mac n' Cheese meal with dehydrated broccoli for health (insert winky face here), we climbed in the tent early due to impending rainfall. It had been an interesting and respect earning day in the Boundary Waters.
Heading east, we navigated around some points and islands and back bays until we found the portage to Gun Lake. The portage was easy enough but as we are mostly not in any shape, we were still getting our trip legs under us so we took our time. And Gun Lake, what can I say, it's a jaw dropper! Those towering Tolkienesque cliffs break your heart.
Gun Lake's beauty inspired a slow motion paddle through its inky waters. The cliffs and the moody sky mirrored in the lake painted a magical mood as we slipped through on our way to Little Beartrack. And after that portage to Little Beartrack, we would both reflect that maybe we should have lingered longer.
Though a shorter portage, the portage to Little Beartrack would break our spirits for the day and nearly break my leg. We managed to get the boats across without any issue other than performing the miracle of navigating the boulder field that is the Gun to Little Beartrack portage. But when we made it back to the Gun side and began the march back with our heavily loaded packs, things went almost horribly wrong. I have always been a bit quicker than Krystal so I was a good 30 rods in front of her on the portage. And if ever someone should have followed their own advice, it was me on that portage. Always look down at where you are placing your feet. One moment of lapse and I plummeted with one leg being swallowed up to the thigh by a gap in the boulders. I had sick visions of snapping my femur in that moment but thank the Boundary Waters gods it did not happen. I struggled to pull myself out of the hole with my heavy pack doing its best to literally be the devil on my shoulders. I finally wormed my way out and just stood in one spot waiting for Krystal. I was going to make damn sure she knew that hole was there because the fear had seeped in fast and hard.
When she finally caught up with me, we gingerly made our way across the rest of boulder alley to the beckoning waters of Little Beartrack. We both agreed that if the one campsite was available on Little Beartrack, we were going to stay for the night. The sky was threatening rain, and my nerves were threatening exhaustion. Though it was a battered campsite, it was available and perfect. I mean, it perfectly echoed the way we felt and we knew we could make the best of the private little spot. Krystal's face in this pic sums up how we were feeling about that portage.
The campsite on Little Beartrack had taken a beating from some windstorm. There were trees down everywhere and we had to climb ourselves and our gear over trees to get on the site from the landing. We would later brave the slippery rockface to load our boats when we left because scaling the downed trees was challenging enough to only want to do it once. We found a nice flat spot nestled between some downed trees and some rocks for the Lean 3. We did have one rock inside the Lean but it was more a piece of artwork in the tent than a nuisance.
We rode out a mild rainfall in the tent. We had plenty of day in front of us so we chilled at camp, fished from shore some more, and generally enjoyed the solitude. It had been two days since we had seen another human. We would hit a six day stretch on this section of lakes below Lac LaCroix with no other humans in site. Still no luck fishing for me, but it was still early in the trip. My one goal was to catch my first BWCA walleye!
Following a delicious Mac n' Cheese meal with dehydrated broccoli for health (insert winky face here), we climbed in the tent early due to impending rainfall. It had been an interesting and respect earning day in the Boundary Waters.
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