Yet another gray morning. We celebrate Mass one last time today. A family of swans does it’s best to keep us distracted by honking and chasing away other birds. Afterwards, a quick breakfast and then we begin tearing down camp and getting everything packed away. Our tow back to Crane Lake isn’t set to arrive until 2:30 so there is no big rush yet, we are still on the water with plenty of time to spare.

It looks like it wants to rain but, it never does. It’s a bit breezy as we paddle back to Bottle portage but not so much so as to be a hindrance. The portage goes by quickly as everyone is in good spirits and the clouds start breaking up bringing with it increasing winds.

We paddle the short distance over to our pickup point and settle in as we’re here about an hour & a half early. Much like she has all week, Naomi entertains by sharing stories and then playing various games with the kids as well. Naomi relating so well with the kids throughout the trip entice them to christen her with the catchy moniker “Our Homey Naomi.”

By the time the tow arrives, Lac La Croix is rockin’. I give our driver my camera to take a group photo but, don’t verify he got the shot until well after the fact and then realize he never took the photo. Regardless of that, we all give glory to God for not having to paddle through these conditions and are surprised to learn its roughly 60 miles from Bottle portage to the docks on Crane Lake.

Back in Crane Lake Father, Fitz & I shuttle back to grab our vehicles. After returning to the landing, as we’re loading up, out of the corner of my eye I notice Aurora & Isaiah exchanging numbers. The look of sheer joy on her face is priceless. And this new budding friendship may be the most prominent aspect of the trip for her. Once we’re all loaded, Aurora & I stop at The Vermilion River Tavern to grab a bite to eat while everyone else heads for Fitz’s cabin.

Ironically, 6 of the 8 of us are soon reunited Sunday morning for Mass in Aurora, MN. Bishop Felton is in town to officially install Father Brandon as administrator of the eastern Iron Range Mission Field. He also gives a blessing to Naomi and the young women in The Bethany House too. Quite the young gentleman, Isaiah comes and sits next to Aurora for Mass and then we all head downstairs to the social hall for a brunch & BBQ celebration.

At this point in the report, it should go without saying that Father Brandon is certainly the straw that stirs the drink for our crew – or most any crew for that matter. And, at least on this trip, he may not be accused of being a fisherman; God has certainly gifted him with the charism of being a fisher of men. I dont claim to know everyone (or even myself) all that well, but i do know we all have/are experiencing heartache, tradgedy, loss, confusion and various other recent profound sufferings in all our lives. Yet, through some good natured ribbing and the like, Father was able to orchestrate a weeklong festive atmosphere of healing, hope, joy & belly laughing for us all that would give no one any indication of those hidden pains just below the surface. And, we all praise our Lord Jesus Christ for those many blessings.

Having said that, I realize I hadn’t said too much about Fitz. So, I thought I’d share a little bit about him. In a lot of ways, he’s quiet and unassuming but, as evidenced in this report, he is always willing to help out and makes an invaluable tripping partner. However, the aspect of his personality I think I appreciate the most in his subtle dry wit & humor.

Perhaps my favorite story of his to illustrate this follows: A few years prior to this trip, Father Brandon was trying to round up some people to join him on a BWCA trip he was trying to put together. Fitz messaged back, “If I’m gonna be able to come, I think I’ll first need a priest to lick his finger and then stick it in my wife’s ear saying ‘Ephphatha’ - be open." (from Mark 7:34).

Now Father Brandon didn’t actually do/try this, but after this trip I’ve pondered this in my heart and came up with one probable outcome of him attempting to do so. I strongly suspect that he would have heard from another member of the Fitz family a phrase that became popular on this trip, possibly colorfully garnished with emphatic language unbecoming of a lady - “PUT THOSE HANDS AWAY!!!”