The Final Countdown
June 10th-11th, 2026
The days leading up to our departure are frantic ones. I had promised to take all of the boys fishing at some local spots in the canoe in May, my daughter was finishing her track season, and we were going on family vacation just before leaving for the Boundary Waters. At one point, I confide to Andrew that “It feels like I’m packing for three fishing trips at the same time!” To which he responds, “You pretty much are, Dad!” While it’s crazy, I have no regrets, because life is short and the spring fishing window waits for no one. A multitude of home maintenance tasks piles up, and major appliances are dropping like flies, leaving me stressed out and scrambling for replacements. Our entry date marches closer with little to no progress on packing for it. But the fact that we are going at all keeps me marching forward through the storm.
After returning home from vacation, I manage to wrangle a couple hours of Andrew’s time to help me out with the final packing and checking of all the gear that I’d been accumulating, testing, and sorting for seemingly the entire year. I want him to be more involved in the packing process this year anyway, so perhaps being behind on all of it is for the best. When he tries on his clothes for the trip, I’m astonished to see that many of them (which mostly fit a little big last year) are on the small side. But “good enough” is good enough, so we push onward with what he has. I’m sleep deprived and Andrew is in a goofy mood, but, we somehow find a way to make it all come together. I make my opening journal entry at the kitchen table, where I scrawl down several goals for this years’ trip:

Have fun and continue to foster enthusiasm for wilderness canoe trips.

Catch the grand slam.

Catch a Lake Trout.

Catch a Walleye.

When I realize none of the barbs of the hooks on our new tackle had been crimped down, I spend a couple hours doing so, then realize I had also intended to file the hooks of our older lures. Would this actually do anything? I don’t know, nor do I really know what I am doing, but I sure don’t want to lose out on a big fish because of a dull hook! With less than 24 hours before our departure in the dead of night, I sit at the kitchen table honing each hook until 5:15 A.M., knowing that any one of these hooks might be tasked with catching the fish of a lifetime.

With the gear prepped and checked at last, it is time to pack it all up and hope it fits. Andrew watches and laughs as I agonize over minor clothing decisions (do I bring the sun hat? Shorts? Should we find a smaller chess board? Do we have enough snacks for the road?). The best part about final packing decisions is the time pressure forces us to focus, and neutralizes any tendency to procrastinate. The problems are known, and they simply must be taken care of, now. When it comes to making gear decisions, I tend to favor going slightly heavier for more durability and versatility versus lighter gear that doesn’t last as long or fit the mission. This is reflected in our already large canoe, a black lite Northstar Northwind 18. By itself, the canoe weighs 45 pounds. With three medium-heavy action fishing rods, three carbon paddles, our larger net, and our thwart bags strapped into the canoe, I estimate the total weight of the canoe plus gear strapped into it to be 65 pounds. Our gear fits into four packs, of which three are lightly loaded, allowing for less painful portages. That means I will need to carry one of the light packs plus the canoe on my first trip over the portage, which concerns me. Carrying one light pack with the canoe would increase my total carry weight to just under 100 pounds on that trip over the portage. While trying this had failed in the past, it is simply too late to fiddle with changing it much, so I file that away as a problem for the future and shove the packs in the Civic at 4 P.M. I have to pull the packs back out of our car multiple times to double-check certain items or add one more item, and during one such moment, I manage to snap the handle off of one of our fishing reels. Thankfully, I have a backup in the garage and am able to re-rig the rod. I lay down for my pre-drive nap at 6 P.M., the final task necessary to prepare for the 15 hour drive through the night.

As night falls, I rise from my slumber, feeling the same way I do before a challenging long distance race: Eager to start, yet knowing I will have to suffer in the coming hours. With goodbyes said and a photo or two taken, we launch into the night at 10:08 P.M. and head for the interstate. After a year of planning and anticipation, Andrew and I are once again headed north, to the place that fills countless dreams and discussions…to the Boundary Waters.