Saturday, June 06, 2026 Day 3 started a whole lot better than Day 2 ended. Considering how much we'd put our bodies through the day before, we actually woke up feeling pretty good. Sore? Absolutely. But not nearly as bad as we expected. As we slowly packed up camp, we kicked around the idea of taking a layover day. It sounded pretty tempting after the marathon we'd just survived. Then we pulled out the map and remembered how far we still had to go if we wanted to make it to Caribou Lake. That settled it. Before long the canoes were loaded, and we pushed off across John Lake toward Little John. The sun was finally starting to warm everything up, our stiff muscles loosened with every paddle stroke, and before long we were reminded why we love canoe trips so much. There's just something about paddling that's hard to explain. It's peaceful, it's therapeutic, and no matter how tired we are, we always seem to have our best conversations when we're out on the water.
When we reached the first portage, Kev and I noticed the little stream connecting John and Little John. Instead of taking the short portage, we decided we were going to run it. Our first attempt almost ended with us swimming. We backed up and tried again.
Same result.
By the third attempt, we figured we might as well change our approach instead of repeating the same mistake. We spotted a better line, gave it everything we had, and powered through. It took a little muscle, but we made it and officially skipped our first portage of the day. As we floated through the shallow water, we started noticing fish everywhere. The water was crystal clear, the morning sun was hitting it just right, and for a few minutes everything felt perfect. John and Ryan caught up after taking the portage, and all four of us were in great spirits. Not long after, we reached the portage into MacFarland Lake and found another little stream begging us to try the same thing. We couldn't resist. This one took even more effort than the first, but somehow we managed to push our way through again. At that point we were feeling pretty proud of ourselves. MacFarland was another beautiful lake, although seeing cabins scattered along the shoreline definitely threw us off after the solitude we'd been enjoying. Even so, the fishing had our attention. Hundreds of bass were cruising the shallow water, getting ready to spawn, and it was impossible not to picture what the afternoon fishing might be like. The weather couldn't have been better. The water was almost perfectly calm, and we enjoyed every minute of the paddle across the lake. At the far end we reached another little stream connecting into Pine Lake. This time we decided not to push our luck. We got out, stretched our legs, grabbed a few snacks, snapped some pictures, and unfolded the map.

That's when we realized Pine Lake was the longest lake we'd paddle on the entire trip. Considering we'd already crossed Clearwater and Mountain, that was saying something. We shoved off into Pine under a light headwind that honestly didn't bother us much. The weather was just too nice to complain. Pine is a gorgeous lake, with hills rising on both sides the entire way. I couldn't help but imagine what it must look like in the fall when every hillside is covered in reds, oranges, and yellows.

As we paddled, all of us kept talking about how lucky we were. We had perfect weather, incredible scenery, good friends, and a few days away from everything back home. Over the last couple of days we'd spent a lot of time talking about the beauty God created for us to enjoy. Everywhere we looked there was another reminder of just how incredible His creation really is, and none of us took that for granted. Eventually the lake bent slightly south, and we realized something we really didn't want to realize. We were only halfway.
For some reason we'd convinced ourselves we were almost done, but we still had miles left to paddle. To make things even better, that gentle headwind we'd been ignoring slowly turned into another steady wind right in our faces. Back to work.
Ryan and John started working their way toward the opposite shoreline while Kev and I stayed on our line. We weren't exactly sure what they were doing, but at that point we were focused on putting one paddle stroke in front of the next. About three-quarters of the way across the lake, Kev and I finally admitted we needed a break. We pulled over on the south shore near the mouth of a bay, climbed out, and absolutely demolished some beef sticks and candy. It's amazing how much better life looks after a snack. While we were resting, we noticed John and Ryan had stopped at a campsite farther down the lake. We weren't sure why, but before long they were back in the canoe and paddling again. Our little break was exactly what we needed. We finished the rest of Pine one bay at a time, and by the time we reached the portage, John and Ryan were right there with us. Now we could finally see the finish line.
One longer portage into Little Caribou, one short hop into Caribou, and we'd be on the lake we'd planned to call home for the rest of the trip. We made quick work of the first portage and paddled onto Little Caribou. While planning the trip, we'd read good things about the one campsite on the lake, so we decided to stop and check it out if it happened to be open. To our surprise, it was.
The landing wasn't anything special, but once we climbed up into camp we immediately knew we'd found something good. The site sat high on a rocky peninsula with a constant breeze blowing through camp. After battling mosquitoes almost nonstop since the trip started, that breeze felt like the greatest luxury in the world. It didn't take long for all four of us to agree. This was home.
The campsite had everything we wanted, and being just a short paddle from Caribou Lake meant we'd still have easy access to some great fishing. By the time camp was set up, firewood was gathered, and water was filtered, the sun was already starting to sink lower in the sky. As golden hour settled in, Kev and I couldn't resist sneaking out for a quick evening fishing trip around the lake. The fish didn't cooperate much. We caught one small northern and that was about it, but it didn't really matter. We were already exactly where we wanted to be. Back at camp, John did what John always does and built another great fire. We cooked our freeze-dried dinners, and somehow the conversation shifted toward building homemade candy bars out of tortillas, peanut butter, puppy chow, and chocolate-covered caramels. At the time, it felt like we were onto something revolutionary. Then sat around the fire enjoying our first perfect evening in the Boundary Waters.

That night I slept better than I ever have on a canoe trip. Before climbing into the tent, I took a couple melatonin, hoping they'd help. They Do! ~John Lake, Little John Lake, McFarland Lake, Pine Lake, Little Caribou Lake