Day 4: The South Arm
Tuesday, June 16th, 2026
Even though camp is well orgainzed, it still takes nearly two hours from wake up until we paddle away from the landing at 6:26 A.M. While we loved our time on Rabbit, the air is filled with a special sense of anticipation today. I have been talking about and dreaming of the South Arm for years, well before I even embarked on my first Boundary Waters trip. Since “planting our flag” on the South Arm as our base camp destination for this year, Andrew and I have been poring over the maps and campsites, embedding every detail of the South Arm into our brains. Last year, we never moved until the day we left. Though our travel today is short, we know it will be a tougher day since we have never torn down and set up another camp on the same day before.

The familiar portage to Ester is quickly dispatched, and with the bugs continuing to assault us at a Biblical level, we elect to eat our breakfast in the canoe while floating in Ester’s tranquil northwest bay. Once done, we at last set a course and our minds to the destination of the South Arm of Knife. Once we squeeze through the inlet that separates Ester from Hanson, we are both covering new water for the first time. While Hanson itself doesn’t blow us away with its beauty, Andrew is intrigued by the short, narrow channel between the two lakes, which prompts more discussion on how I can’t wait to take him down some fun Boundary Waters rivers and creeks on a future trip. While we won’t be doing the Frost or Louse Rivers next year, the seed has been planted!

Our notes are filled with praise for the beauty of the Hanson to South Arm Knife portage, so we are eager to get started. I am trying to find ways to distract my mind and calculate how long a portage is, so I count my steps while carrying our canoe and determine that on a portage with good footing and modest up and down like this one, it’s about six steps per rod. This truly is a beautiful walk through the woods, reminiscent of some of the hiking trails we have walked in Acadia National Park in Maine. When we return for the second load, we take a few minutes to soak in the idyllic nature of this incredibly beautiful spot. The waterfall is powerful, yet intimate. It is sprawling, but not frenetic. The fallen cedars across the creek lend an ancient feel to the scene, as do the gigantic cedars standing right next to the creek. The mosquito onslaught is even lessened somewhat here, allowing us to fully enjoy the moment. Once the second load is across, we load up with an energy that can only come from reaching the lake that has been the focal point of our planning for an entire year, a lake I’ve been dreaming about since before I even wetted a paddle in the Boundary Waters.

It’s 9:20 A.M., the paddling conditions are immaculate, and both of us are enraptured by the beauty of Knife. If I were to create the perfect Boundary Waters lake in my mind, it would look just like this. Crystal clear water. Interesting, meandering shorelines full of hideaway bays, and plenty of islands to explore. Towering cliffs, sometimes sheer and exposed, and other times, covered with leaning cedars, with just enough sentinel white pines thrown into the mix. More than all of this, I am intrigued by the fishing prospects here. We paddle the eastern end of the lake in complete solitude and often in complete silence, until reverie overtakes us and we whisper an exclamation to one another about how surreal the beauty is here.

Once we pass through the eastern channel and turn to the west though, the mood changes, as I had expected. When base camping last year, we only had one tense moment of “Will we be able to find a campsite we like?” This year, with four camps planned, there will be more moments of suspenseful angst as we search for open campsites. The tension is especially high for this site, where we plan to spend multiple nights. We both knew this feeling was coming, but are powerless to stop it. Channeling this tension, we dig our paddles deeper into the water and start making predictions on how long it will take us to reach an island ahead to keep our minds occupied. We have plenty of sites ahead in a great location on Knife, but have no idea what to expect in terms of how busy the lake will be, especially since I have never been into the Boundary Waters in mid-June. The first site, #1430, is occupied (we later visit this site when vacant and don’t find it to our liking). We round a point and spy a “peekaboo” landing at site #1431 that appeared to be open. We check out site #1433 and it is occupied, and so we turn around and paddle hard back to the open landing at site 1431. We make landfall, and find the site open at 11:06. This is in a great location for where we are planning to fish for the next week, and for the next few days, this is our land!

Our first walkthrough of this site leaves us feeling very excited for our stay. Trails abound, including a steep path to the top of a gorgeous bluff that provides a panoramic overview of the lake. The hammocking options in this site are limitless, and the fire grate and kitchen area is very open and should allow for easy hanging of the tarp. The only minor deduction is for a pair of boxer briefs that are hanging from a tree branch near one of the tent pads, but this only adds more levity to an already happy situation. Speaking of levity and goofiness, after a quick lunch, we begin setting up the tarp over the kitchen area. I will readily admit to not being the most creative person, and that is doubly true when it comes to setting up a tarp, a task which is always variable depending on the individual campsite. The afternoon winds have picked up, and the trees are far apart here, so for quite some time, it appears Andrew and I are flying some sort of strange kite from our site.

We try (and fail multiple times) to splice together multiple lines for most tie out points. Andrew is certain that my attempts will fail as they did on Rabbit, but is in such a goofy mood, he isn’t bothered in the least. In fact, he spontaneously breaks into song, poorly singing some new Eminem song I’ve never heard, and I just can’t help but explode in laughter. Somehow we find a way to rein in our goofiness long enough to complete a very respectable tarp set up over the kitchen area, another step to turning this little corner of the earth into our home for the next few days. While eating lunch, we take notice of a squirrel that also resides here inside a tree. The squirrel is continually darting in and out of the tree trunk, and during a vacant time, we walk over and peer inside, and discover multiple baby squirrels inside. A very nice touch to an already great spot!

After setting up hammocks near each other with a marvelously connected “tarp hallway” between the two, we paddle out to gather water. One of my goals this year is to have Andrew paddle more from the stern so he can learn the art of steering a canoe and leading navigation. His first try at doing this is when gathering water, and we both find this to work terrifically, since he can work at turning the canoe around while I’m dipping for water up front. Now, all that’s left to do is gather firewood. Though we are tired and eager to try some evening fishing, we both cherish our moments by the fire in the evenings. So, back into the canoe we go, battling a standard dose of afternoon chop, but eager to put the finishing touches on our campsite with a large pile of dry, split cedar. Strangely enough, we not only have a difficult time finding a random place to land the canoe, but once we do, we find ourselves in a seemingly endless tight cluster of younger balsam trees. I wade through a constant barrage of limbs poking out at eye level looking for just one single fallen, dry tree of any kind that we can begin processing with our saws, but come up with little to nothing. We try another spot, and have the same results. Then another. The goofiness at camp is a distant memory at this point. We are both hot, tired, and frustrated with our inability to find suitable firewood, something that’s never been a problem before for us. Finally we find a spot that has a few “borderline” dry, non-punky wood and declare it good enough. After an hour or so of sawing and swatting mosquitoes, we paddle back to camp. As we leave shore, we are stunned and embarrassed to find we had done all of that work to gather wood quite near to the back of another occupied campsite…I have never been so vexed by hunting for firewood!

Even though we got here early in the day, the sun is now slowly setting in the west, and the winds have calmed slightly. I get that familiar antsy feeling inside me that says “We need to get out fishing…now!” We check our fishing notes and plan to target a small bay nearby for Smallmouth and Walleye. Andrew ties on a plastic swim bait, and at his urging, I try something crazy, tying on a large new Rapala we just couldn’t resist buying for this trip. It’s in an odd color called “Walleye Wizard,” and now the time has come to see if it can help us catch our first-ever Walleye. Down at the landing, I load our tackle, water bottles, poles, net, and paddles, but the stringer is nowhere to be found. After several minutes of searching for it, I conclude that somehow it must’ve been lost along the way…most likely on Ashdick yesterday. I rig up a length of paracord to the rear thwart, then reference my knot cards to learn how to tie a bowline on a bight. It’s not perfect by any means, and tying a knot with a rope carefully threaded through the mouth of a live fish is sure to be a rodeo, but that’s wilderness fishing! At long last, with my haphazard stringer, we push off from shore to fish the South Arm of Knife Lake, something I have dreamt about for untold years.

Andrew quickly hooks into an average Smallmouth, then I catch a perfect eating sized Walleye on my Rapala! Both of us are stunned as Andrew nets this beautiful fish, and we are beside ourselves with anticipation for tonight’s supper by the fire, where we will at last find out for ourselves if fried Walleye truly lives up to the hype! After a snag or two, we try a few more trolling passes around the bay, but the action is slow. We call it a night pretty quickly so we can get back to camp and get our fish fry started.

Once back at the landing, a flood of tasks inundates me. It’s 8:45 P.M. The canoe must be secured, as well as all our fishing equipment. I need to split a minimal amount of firewood to get us through tonight, a job I am hesitant to let Andrew accomplish on his own yet. Meals must be readied in the thermoses for tomorrow’s breakfast and lunch, tonight’s supper and dessert must be cooked, a fire must be started, and I have a fish to clean. The sun is going down and the mosquitoes are positively atrocious, necessitating that I clean the fish in my head net under the light of my headlamp. There are times in every trip to the Boundary Waters when it all seems too much. This is one of those times.

Perhaps it is my frantic swatting at the mosquitoes or the occasional blue streak of vocal frustration that I can’t help but vocalize, but Andrew sees my frustration and takes the initiative to help. Though he’s never run the stove on his own before, he asks if he can work on getting our meals prepared for tomorrow. After a brief refresher on what to do and what not to do, he is off and running while I return to the filet rock down by the landing to do battle with the mosquitoes and this beautiful Walleye.

Andrew nearly singes his eyebrows off when lighting the stove, but otherwise does a great job getting the kitchen chores started…This is a huge help! Once the fish is cleaned, I split the wood and work on getting the fire going to tamp down the onslaught of mosquitoes. When it’s time to fry the fish, I drop the little nut that holds the handle on our skillet lid, and of course can’t find it. While this is less of an issue than a missing stringer, I still have to pause and tell myself that it doesn’t really matter in the least…we are on Knife Lake eating fresh fried Walleye after all! And what a treat that first Walleye is. We both wholeheartedly agree that Walleye is easier to clean and tastes better than Smallmouth or Pike, and I finally allow myself to relax and enjoy the reward of sitting by the campfire with Andrew after this wonderful day. By the time we clean up, secure the bear bags, and organize camp, it is midnight. Just before diving into our hammocks to escape the mosquitoes, we hear wolves howling. We are here and we can’t wait to get after the fish again tomorrow!

Stats—> Portages: 2 | Portage rods: 120 | Paddle distance: 6.7 miles | Travel time: 4:40 | Fishing time: 1:00 | Fish caught: 2 (1 SB, 1 W) | Lakes: Rabbit, Ester, Hanson, South Arm Knife