Wednesday, June 18, 2025 For the first time on this trip, I sleep in. By the time I crawl out of the tent, it's nearly 7:30. As always, coffee comes first. Some of my favorite moments in the Boundary Waters happen before I ever launch the canoe. Sitting quietly with a warm mug in my hands, watching the mist lift from the lake while the forest slowly wakes, is reason enough to come here. I fish for a couple of hours and catch only one lake trout. While trolling a Klose lure, I stop to slowly jig it beneath the canoe. Almost immediately—bam! A solid twenty-inch lake trout. It's larger than I need, so after a quick look, I release it back into the deep water. The rest of the afternoon passes without another fish. Eventually, the wind begins to rise, and rain follows. Oddly, although I can hear the wind howling across Lac La Croix, Takucmich remains relatively sheltered. Tonight's dinner is pita pizza beneath the tarp. Normally, I'd spend the evening paddling the shoreline, but fatigue has caught up with me. Instead, I sit beside a small fire and watch evening settle over the lake. Tomorrow I'll be traveling through country I've never seen before. The thought excites me, but crossing another stretch of Lac La Croix gives me pause. As the sun slips behind the trees, the cooling forest releases the rich scent of damp earth, pine, and cedar.