Wilderness Daze

A Trip Into The Boundry Waters Canoe Country


DEDICATED TO

SHANDELLE MARIE HENSON

a delightful and

pleasant traveling companion!


INTRODUCTION

THE INCESTUOUS RAPE OF MOTHER EARTH

" ... WE GIVE THANKS TO YOU, LORD GOD ALMIGHTY WHO IS AND WHO WAS, BECAUSE YOU HAVE TAKEN YOUR GREAT POWER AND HAVE BEGUN TO REIGN .... AND FOR DESTROYING THOSE WHO DESTROY THE EARTH." Rev. 11: 18 NIV

Henson's first LAW of DEPRIVATION states that "All scientific and technological 'advances' cause a deprivation to the environment that is directly proportional to the significance of the advance.

The dictionary defines pollution as 'the act of defiling, or making dirty'. In our use I would like to describe it as 'any action of man that reduces livability within the universe or deprives any of its inhabitants of a natural, pristine environment'. Below is a list of some forms of pollution. I am sure that if you are sensitive to the needs of the environment you can add others.

* AIR

* WATER

Run Off, Streams, Rivers, Lakes, Ground Water, Oceans & Seas, Etc..

* NOISE

* LIGHT

* ELECTROMAGNETIC

Radio, Television, Electric Transmission, Microwave Transmission, Etc..

* MIND

* FOOD


Chemicals, Bacterial, Processing.

* SOIL


Chemicals, Fertilizers, Radiation Fallout, Landfills, Atomic Waste, Etc..

* SPACE

Rocket Debris, Etc..

The very presence of man in significant numbers is a polluting influence. The environment as we know it can not sustain the present population of the earth over the long haul. The environment is deteriorating and we do not understand what the next level of equilibrium may be. Suffice it to say that it will be a more chaotic state.

We have been brain washed to believe that 'we cannot stand in the way of progress'. It is my contention that not enough people have tried it at the same time. Most of what we call progress is suicide.

We are talking of the electric automobile as if it would be a panacea for air pollution. It is a dangerous trade that we would be making. The present gasoline engine would be unacceptable if it were not for the prospect of running out of oil. It pollutes the lower 3000 feet of the atmosphere. But when we plug in our electric 'pollution free' car the generators kick in at the Generating Plant and the fossil fuels begin to burn. The extreme heat and the tall smoke stacks will ship the pollution into the outer stratosphere, and out of the range of the thunderstorm which scrubs and cleans our air to a degree.

Henson's second LAW OF DEPRIVATION states, "The more we do to improve the pollution problem, using technology, the more complex and damaging the results will be to the environment."

Water supplies our needs and recreation. Pure water is becoming more difficult to get. Why else would merchants sell jugs of the substance in their stores? You can only sell that which is valuable, and scarce. The ocean was once a pool of clear, fresh water, but the vitae of the earth has been dissolved and carried there rendering most of our available water brackish with salts. Mankind is taking care to ruin the balance of the water. It will soon be, "Water, water, everywhere, but not a drop to drink!"

The full effects of Electro-Magnetic Pollution may not be understood for decades to come. I remember one night taking my family to a large Electric Transmission line near our home. It was of the new type that has a group of three cables in clusters. The wires are held apart with triangular insulators. An electric storm flows between the three wires, and transmits electricity almost as if the three were one solid conductor the diameter of the triangle.

We were carrying a four foot fluorescent bulb in our hand as we approached the power line. The light bulb began to burn. The children were impressed. I explained to them that a large amount of the high voltage electricity being transmitted was radiating into the air around us. We did not fully understand the harm, but we did know that our area was being polluted by electromagnetic waves. It is true that the energy is dissipated by the square of the distance from the wires, but for many yards around it forms an extremely hazardous zone.

I will speak of another pollution, and that is "Mind Pollution". When we pollute the air it can be washed free by rainfall, and if the pollution ceases to exist the air will eventually be pure again. If we stop polluting the streams, in time they will flow clean again. However, there may remain chemical sludge on their bottoms for countless centuries to come.

But the mind is different. That which is put into it is there for a lifetime. We may not always be able to access or recall the material, but it is there. That is why I resent another telling me a harmful story, be it the evening news, a friend with a smutty little story, or some of the unspeakable trash that is unloaded on America daily through television. The old saying that "The world is watching America, and America is watching television" is true. We are producing more garbage for worldwide consumption through that media than can be consumed by the world and retain an healthy mental outlook.

I make no apologies for having been born in an era that used the kerosene lamp to dispel the shadows of darkness at night. Just a generation or two before me they used the candle as had the people for the past two thousand years. In fact much of the conversation of the day carried graphic images from those past times. If one were to do a foolish thing, I have heard them say, "Its like breaking a 25 cent butcher's knife skinning a gnat for its tallow." My lifetime has spanned a great technological revolution. I have seen the advantages of both life styles. It is certainly challenging to live in today's world, but I fear that the emotions of man are better suited to the old days and old ways.

There were the days when man had to be protected from the Wolf and the Bear. Today the wild kingdom must be protected from man. Where is the middle ground? Where can both live in harmony? Is it too much to ask for this world? Must we wait in patience for the Kingdom of God?

On Lake Superior great ships are hauling minerals, ore, timber, and grain to the hungry markets of the world. They are carrying off those things and are denuding large areas. What is wrong with leaving things where the Lord placed them? The children of the earth are raping their mother, and their reward will be destruction.

When I was a child America had a population of about 150,000,000. It seemed to me that the wilderness was larger than anything that mankind could do to injure it. That was before the Atom Bomb, bulldozer, automated forest harvesting systems and other things that kept the greed of man searching for ways to faster denude the earth of all but its molten core.

Strewn across America are the great concrete cooling towers of our atomic power generating plants. They spew steam into the air as a warning to the people. I call those towers 'The Tombstones of Civilization'. We have learned nothing from the Three Mile Island accident, or the accidents that have happened in Russia, and other places. When I was a youth in high school we were told that atomic energy was coming; that it would be so inexpensive that they would not bother to meter it, but charge a flat yearly fee. As so much of the other optimism of those 1950s it did not prove to be so. There is no free lunch. If we eat we must pay, but why charge the environment?

I had a young friend by the name of Richard Byrd. He said that he was a third cousin to the Rear Admiral Byrd of the U.S. Navy fame. Richard had a well balanced perspective on the environment at 10 years of age. I remember one day we were in the mountains of east Tennessee. It was spring and the time when young boys are searching for something but are not sure just what.

We came upon a small meadow with a southerly facing and surrounded by woods. Growing in the lea were a half acre of mountain pansies. The blooms are hardly as large as their cultivated cousins. We were not hypercritical. It was a fairy land of beauty, for the plants, being early bloomers, were in an array of color. There is something within every rightly constructed lad that causes him to wish to share beauty when he is confronted with it. This was a most unexpected windfall.

I began gathering a handful of the pretty flowers to take home to mother. (I am sure that I discarded them hours before arriving home, due to the excitement of other adventures. If not, they were sure to have been wilted ruins upon my arrival home.) On my knees I continued to pick. At last Richard said, "That is enough. Leave some for another time!" I was not thinking of another time. I was relying solely upon the pleasures of now. So it is with even adults today. They will make and spend their future now and leave their grandchildren with the dregs of a has-been. Where Richard learned his conservation principle, I do not know, but I wish every mother in America, and in the world, would instruct their children to 'waste not, want not!'.

Due to pollution of the planet we are experiencing some unusual weather. The old records fall almost daily. We are now having the worst flooding that the mid-west has seen in recorded history. The 100 year flood plains have been swamped, and the people who have foolishly built on the banks of rivers and in lowlands are finding their homes under water. Dikes are breaking all up and down the Mississippi and Missouri Rivers. In Hannibal, Missouri it is estimated that it will be five months before the water is back to its normal level in the river.

As we drove through the rolling farmland of Missouri, I thought "how pleasant." Then we saw a sign that read, "Caldwell County" and I fell into a period of depression. A weight had entered my breast. Mankind has thrown a political net across the land, breaking it into little domains and kingdoms. The net is drawn in by the will of small self-serving men. There can be no freedom except in the complete submission to law, and this is good. However, too often the small, self- serving man is the law. He derives his power from a political structure based on cowardly men doing his bidding for the benefits that they receive, and the power given them by their overlords..

The problem of pollution is self solving. Nature will rise up in violence against those who have polluted. Is that not all of us? She will destroy all but a few hardy souls unless the Lord Jesus Christ comes and saves the earth from our hand.

CHAPTER ONE

A TRIP TO THE NORTHWOODS

Any trip that takes one away from his main base of operation is best carried on under the supervision of a good Checklist. I have always made them for my trips. The one below was developed with the assistance of Shandelle Marie Henson for this trip.

CANOE TRIP


Master Checklist

FOODS ( Break down into daily menus)


Dried beef, Oatmeal, Grits, Rice, Dried apples, Dried peas, Dried corn, Dry cereal, Dry milk, Dry soups, Dried mushrooms, Dried potatoes, Mixed nuts, Potatoes, Cheese, Bisquick, Syrup, Marshmallows, Cooking oil, Salt, Pepper, Tea, Coffee, Hot chocolate, Bouillon cubes, Kool aide.

MEDICINE


LoMotil, Antibiotic, Antihistamine, Aspirin, Vitamins, Sunscreen (Waterproof No. 30), Insect repellant, Skin-so-soft.

CLOTHES


Wool shirt (Long sleeves), Insulated underwear, 1 pr. shoes, 1 pr. flip flops, 2 pr. trousers, 2 pr. under shorts, 2 pr. undershirts, 2 pr. socks, 1 belt, 1 hat, 2 shirts, Swimsuit.

GENERAL


Permits, Maps, Compass, Tent, Water filter, Ground cloth, Rope (5 various lengths), Stove, Fuel, Dishcloth, Flashlight, Extra batteries, Camera, Extra batteries, Film (5 rolls each), Water proof camera case, Backpacker's trowel, All purpose soap, Cookwear, Toothpaste, First aid kit, Mirror, Air mattress, Chair, Plates, Cups, Silverwear, Duct tape, Water proof matches, Cigarette lighter, Sewing kit, 2 approved floation devices.

INDIVIDUAL


Shaving Brush, Razors (2 hoe type), Water bottles (2), Sleeping bag, Back pack, Rain gear, Towel, Bandana, Toilet paper (3 rolls total), Comb, Toothbrush, Writing paper, Pens (2), Fish hook with line, Garbage bag, Dirty clothes bag, Hunting knife, Sunglasses, Reading glasses, Driver's License, Fishing Permit, Road Atlas, Hair Spray, Visa Card, Money, Checks.

h2 align=center> CHAPTER TWO

To the land of 10,000 Lakes


I must admit that I was somewhat fearful to make this journey into the wilderness. Would the car function properly? Would I become ill so far from doctors and loved ones. But why should we let fear control our lives? Fear is a greater enemy than any other. It is so basic an element of life. It is not limited to man.

I remember once that I was watching an amoeba under a microscope. It was moving around by the use of its pseudopod. I inserted a wire into his realm, and he rapidly withdrew from it. Flies see the uplifted hand and escape. Perhaps they have never seen a hand before. Maybe they are unacquainted with death, yet they fear destruction.

Those one celled protozoa, and the more complex fly are born to react to danger with a fear response. If the uninformed react by an unconditioned reflex, how much more reason man has to fear. Man has seen the result of accidents and knows pain through a very complex nervous system. Can we then remove all fear, or are the individual cells of our body reactive to fear? I suggest that fear is one of the most basic of all our responses. I find that the things that we seem to fear seldom happen.

Friday, July 16, 1993


I called the Hannibal, Missouri police department at 11 am. The lady that answered the telephone said that their city was not flooded. She said that the bridge across the Mississippi River in Hannibal was closed because of flooding on the Illinois side. (My Mother always sang Mississippi as "M - eye - crooked letter - crooked letter - eye - crooked letter - crooked letter - eye - humpback - humpback - eye" in a sing-song fashion. It was a little spelling crutch that her elementary school teacher had taught her.) The police lady continued by saying that the Quincy, Illinois bridge was still open. Before noon of the same day the levee broke and that bridge was taken from service.

She said that tourism was down but that they were not discouraging tourists. There were many available motel rooms in the area.

Shan then called Doug Jordan of the Outdoor Adventure Outfitters and asked about the weather. He said that the temperature was in the high 60 degree Fahrenheit to the low 70s, that the water was about one foot above normal in the lakes and that the mosquitoes were normal. Doug said that it had begun to rain today but that it had been clear and pleasant until now.

Sunday, July 18, 1993


Shan and I left Stonehenge (Chattanooga) at 6 am. and drove west to Nashville, Tennessee on Interstate 24, and through Kentucky to the end of I-24. We crossed the Ohio River at 9:35 Central Daylight Time near Paducah, Kentucky. At the end of I-24 we went north on I-57 to I-64 and to St. Louis, Missouri, crossing the Mississippi River at 12:45 cdt.

The ARCH of St. Louis appeared through the pollution miles before we reached the River. The lay of the land to the east of the River up through Illinois was flat. The farmland was covered with green, lush crops of corn. As we got within about 25 miles of the River the land began to swell and roll like the gentle hills of Tennessee.

The River was at flood stage. The waters were lapping near the foot of the ARCH. River boats were moored above flooded asphalt parking lots along the River, and hundreds of people stood in the bright sunshine by the ARCH looking at their friend the River, recently turned enemy.

We were told that the flooding would not continue to the south of St. Louis because the river is so deep. In places it is over 110 feet deep, and is capable of holding seven times the water of the upper river without flooding.

Just west of St. Louis, along I-70, at the city of St. Charles, Missouri we crossed the Missouri River. I remember visiting the flood damage of the Missouri to the city of Kansas City, Kansas back in 1951. The River had washed away homes and businesses. Silt had settled in the upper stories of buildings and as the water went down the weight of the silt crashed the floors down to the first level. A lumber yard had stood upriver from a bowling ally. The timbers were floated down river so rapidly that they leveled the walls. I remember seeing one small section of the wall standing with 2x4s sticking out of the walls where they did not get pushed all the way through. I saw people with wheelbarrows and shovels sifting through the silt and muck for their jewelry and other valuables where their house had once stood. The Gackenheimers were living in Kansas City, Missouri at this time, and Audrey and I were there for a visit.

Traveling west on I-70, and just beyond O'Fallon, Missouri we turned north onto U.S. Highway 61 going to Hannibal, Missouri. We arrived in Hannibal about 3 pm. cdt. Our interest in this little city was its being the birth place of Samuel Clemens (Mark Twain), and the setting for his stories of Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn. I have always enjoyed the writing of Sam Clemens and the understanding that he had of the young mind. Many of the enterprises that appeared in his book were things that we did in Tennessee in the 1930s.

Samuel Clemens wrote and lectured himself to fame under the name of Mark Twain, a riverboat pilot's lingo for 12 feet deep. He was born on November 30, 1835, and died on April 21, 1910. He was born when Haley's Comet made its appearance in 1835 and always said that he would "go out when the comet came back" and that he did. His birthday was the same day as mine. Mr. Clemens was born in Florida, Missouri and moved with his family to Hannibal when he was about four years of age. He was buried in Elmira, N.Y..

His travel trademark was a white linen suit and a big cigar. His father died when he was 11 years old. They were poor and he left school to become a printer like his brother Orion. Although he was only on the river as a pilot for about three years, he ran across many characters that were later used in his books. He was married to Ms. Olivia Langdon in February of 1870. They had four children, of whom only Clara lived to reach maturity.

Mark Twain enjoyed traveling and made many trips to Europe, and the Holy Land, traveling all the way around the world once. His works were well received all across the world. Huckleberry Finn was first published in London, and the next year in America. Ernest Hemmingway said that modern American literature "Begins with Huckleberry Finn".

The town of Hannibal is a mixture of the old and the new. A sign announcing entry into the city shows the population at 18,004. Sam Clemens states in "Life on the Mississippi" that the population when he returned after a 30 year absence was 15,000. That was in the later 1800s. You could see on the sign where the population estimates had been lowered over the years. The city had at one time been in excess of 19,000 souls. It was a trip of 572 miles from Chattanooga to Hannibal.

The town of Hannibal has industries that include: shoemaking, cement, precision tools, woodworking, printing, optical supplies, with dairy and farm products.

The first order of business upon entering town was to find a motel. We rented room 231 of the Hannibal House Motor Inn (a Best Western Motel) for $36.00 a night plus tax. That brought the price to just over $39.00.

We went to a grocery store and called Audrey. We bought a gallon of bottled water because we were afraid of the local supply for fear that it might have too much chlorine or not enough.

The town like its illustrious writer is dead. We drove uptown and parked the car. When we got out we walked the levee along the River to see the flood damage. The water was getting near the top of the obstruction. People were loading sand bags and trying to restrain the ever-rising River. The cresting reports were continually being revised. It is not good to see a town that is laid siege by an angry River. If the dike breaks the whole lower part of the town will be under water. Even where we parked the car would have flooded over its roof.

The River is 32 feet above normal. The buildings that stand between the dike and the River are flooded. We were told that the River level would fall one-tenth foot per day, once the rains stopped. They were expecting the waters to be normal again by Christmas of 1993.

While we were on the Levee we saw a man dressed as Sam Clemens might have been in his day. He was a walking history of Hannibal. The city has been spared most of the flooding, thanks to the levees, and if they continue to hold. We drove south along Highway 79 to Bear Creek. Mark Twain said that it was named Bear Creek because of "its notable absence of bears". The Creek was flooded and the houses standing along the inlet to the River were presenting only the eaves of the roofs to inspection.

Highway 79 was closed just to the south of Hannibal. The Mark Twain Cave is located about one mile to the south of town on that route. The mouth of the Cave was also flooded. This was the cave that was featured in the story of "Huckleberry Finn", as the place where Injun Joe died.

The bridge that spans the Mississippi in Hannibal was dedicated by President Franklin D. Roosevelt in 1936. As you looked across the River to the Illinois side, you could see the approach to the bridge was swamped, and the bridge was closed until the waters recede.

As we walked the streets we saw the home of Sam Clemens, Becky Thatcher, and Huck Finn. Historical markers tell the story. Down near the levee, at the foot of Cardiff Hill is the spot where the old jail stood. It is the jail where Muff Potter was incarcerated awaiting trial for the alleged murder of young Doctor Robinson.

It was 95 degrees Fahrenheit and very humid. It came a rain in the late afternoon but I was already wet from perspiration and it did not matter. The mid-west is getting all of the rain this year. Tennessee is dry and parched. If the moisture could just be spread out there would be enough for everyone.

At the foot of Cardiff Hill stands a monument to Tom and Huck. It is about lifesized. In "Life on the Mississippi" Mr. Clemens calls Cardiff Hill, Holiday Hill. We took the steps that led to the summit of the hill, and I went puffing up to the top.

According to the local historian that we met on the dike, Mr. and Ms. Holiday lived on Cardiff Hill. He was a steamship pilot and one night was killed because one of the River lights was not burning. He had a wreck with the steamship. Ever after Ms. Holiday kept a light burning in the window of her house for the rivermen. She was the "Widow Douglas" in Huck Finn, and had a sister, Ms. Watson.

A lighthouse was built on the Hill and later it was destroyed by an electrical storm and rebuilt. The town does not seem too proud of the replacement, and it is deteriorating rather badly.

As the day began to shorten we drove across Bear Creek on Highway 79 to "Lover's Leap". It is a high rock precipice overlooking the River. Just down River from that point is Jackson's Island where the story of the runaway slave Jim occurred. We could see a grand view of the River from there. Lots of people were there looking at the flooded houses and area. Shan wanted to stay until the sun was just dropping behind a hill so that she could get a picture of the flooded town along Bear Creek.

I saw a car there at Lover's Leap with an Iowa tag. Looking around I spotted who I thought was the owner of the car. I was looking for information about the flooding through Iowa where we would be driving the next day. Yes! It was their car but they had little information on the flooding because they are now living in Hannibal. We chatted for awhile and something made me think of Sam Campbell, and I asked them if they had ever heard of a mid-western naturalist by the name of Sam Campbell. They said "yes" much to my delight. Then the lady said, "Excuse me for asking, but are you a Seventh- day Adventist?" As it came to light, he was the local pastor. Their name was Rogers. He had gone back to school late in life at Union College in Lincoln, Nebraska. We sat and talked until darkness enveloped the region and the mosquitoes came out in force looking for supper.

There were many people available to talk about the city. They were friendly and some of them only a little better than dim-wits. We met the city drunk up by the lighthouse, and he told us that he had gone to the FDR dedication of the bridge across the mighty Mississippi River in 1936. The bridge that Sam Clemens says crosses the river in the 1880s is farther north of town.

Highway 61 continues from Hannibal to the west shore line of Lake Superior north of Duluth, Minnesota. We had been told on Friday that the Quincy bridge was open, but before the sun set that day a levee broke and the bridge was put out of commission.

Monday, July 19, 1993


We left the motel at 6:15 cdt and drove west along Missouri's mid-land on Highway 36 west. Its a drive of 175 miles or half-way across the state, to Cameron, Missouri. The entire area is agricultural ground swelling with low gentle rolls across the state's beltland. The weather was clear as we left Hannibal, but soon large dark Mammatocumulus clouds were keeping us on the alert for tornados. We expected to see the long sweeping snout of the most violent storm moving across the plains. Gas stations and services for the traveler are few and far between in this area.

The Grand River and other waterways had flooded much of the land across Missouri. The water had receded and left its high mark on trees and crops. The trees and shrubs along the River were dead and brown where the water had stood, and green above. I thought that the water must contain some chemical to have played such havoc with the trees. Maybe they were asphyxiated.

The crops on lowland and river bottom farms were ruined. In some places the topsoil had been eroded, and in others it was deposited on the old land. The river bottom farmers have an advantage over the upland ones in most years, but this year the balance is turned. The upland farmer is getting a lot of rain and his crops look lush. Where one farmer lost by the unusual rainfalls the other has gained. I am sure that prices will go up in the stores because people are expecting them to be higher. However, I believe that the crop system will average out to be a good year. I do not doubt that there are many farmers who will be put out of business or set back for several years, but there can be no justification for market price increases of food.

We reached Interstate 35 at Cameron and turned north toward Des Moines, Iowa. Shan drove about 150 miles along this stretch and then took a good nap while I drove. The Raccoon River was playing havoc with the east side of the city of Des Moines. We went around on the west side of town, passing West Des Moines where the Gackenheimers had lived for about five years in the 1950s.

I used to enjoy seeing the gold dome of the State Capitol Building loom up across the farm land glinting the rays of the sun into the traveler's eyes. The glow of the 1950s has given way to tarnish. The State started a project to clean the dome to restore the glitter, but ran out of money. As we came across the north side of the city we could look back and see the dome of the State Capitol in the air pollution of the city.

As we entered Minnesota the temperature was getting more pleasant. It was in the lower 70 degrees Fahrenheit, and bright and sunny. We drove 700 miles between Hannibal and Duluth, arriving by mid afternoon at the Motel in Duluth.

Duluth is a beautiful city located on the banks of the St. Louis River and Lake Superior. It has a fresh clean look, and is one of Shan's favorite American cities.

We got the last available room (221) in the Comfort Inn on 40th Street. An azure sky with 72 degrees made it a beautiful setting. The motel cost us $67.00 but it was a nice facility with a continental breakfast that would have cost us $10.00 if we had purchased it outside. Shan and I went to a Greek/American Restaurant for dinner. I had a Greek salad of which I am so fond. We called Audrey. She was out in the yard watering plants. It was still 93 degrees in Chattanooga. Why would people live in a place like that when such lovely summer weather is available?

As we were traveling on Interstate 35 we met a lady driving about 65 miles per hour coming down the wrong way on the freeway. We immediately had prayer for those coming to meet her, that they not be injured or killed. We thanked the Lord for His goodness in sparing our lives on this journey. We were tired and went to bed at 9:45 pm. cdt.

Tuesday, July 20, 1993


This is the day that the Lord has given me and I will rejoice in it, was my song as we began to travel the last leg of our journey. We had caught a view of Lake Superior as we came over the rim of the basin into Duluth last night. Now we were to see it first hand. Highway 61, the same road that we were on at Hannibal, Missouri, runs north along the west shore of the mighty Lake. It was 55 degrees when we were loading the car, and very clear.

Lake Superior has the largest surface area of any fresh water lake in the world. It is also the deepest of the Great Lakes. Its waters extend to the Atlantic Ocean via the St. Lawrence seaway and down through the other Great Lakes to the Mississippi River and at last to the Gulf of Mexico. It covers 31,700 square miles, being 350 miles long at its greatest reach, and 160 miles wide. The elevation of the lake is 600 feet above sea level, and is over 1300 feet deep at its deepest. Most of the shoreline is forested. There are 200 rivers who dump their waters into the lake. The largest of these is the St. Louis River which terminates at Duluth. Many of these rivers end in a spectacular waterfall across rocky headlands into the Lake.

The crystal clear waters of the Lake splashed along the shore as we caught sight of it through the birch and fir trees growing along the verge of the lake. There are summer houses on the left of the road, and in spots there would be a commercial establishment. It definitely has the atmosphere of the American far north.

About 40 miles out of Duluth we stopped at the Split Rock Lighthouse, and Pebble Beach. It is part of the Park System and they charged us $4.00 to enter. Tall Birch trees were bending under the stiff breeze from the Lake. We parked in a deserted parking lot and stepped the few yards to the waters of the Lake. I stooped and tasted the water to be sure that it was fresh, and not an arm of the sea. The water was soft and frigid, and the bottom looked up as if you were seeing it through a piece of clear, moving glass.

Pebble beach is well named. There are fist sized stones covering the beach down into the water. We walked along to our left and stopped on a flat outcropping of rock right at the water's edge. I sat down looking at the morning sun rising out of the Lake to the east. It was an endless sea of water as far as the eye could see. Farther around to the south could be seen the distant shores of Michigan and Wisconsin.

It was now 60 degrees Fahrenheit in the shade and warm and agreeably pleasant under the bright morning sun. Wavelets rushed the shore at our feet. From the point where we were sitting the slab of rock curved away to the north terminating at another point of land. The slab rock gave way to a beach strewn with large, well worn boulders. We could no longer see the shoreline beyond that point. On this promontory stood a lighthouse on a stony cliff about 100 feet above the water's edge. It is a diminutive structure about 30 feet tall with the top one-third painted black. The top is dedicated to lights, windows and mirrors. The mid-section is painted a soft primrose yellow with a white base. It stands blind by day, but looks into the night to assist the mariners of the large boats that ply the waters, carrying the wealth of the region abroad, to stay clear of the treacherous reefs in Beaver Bay. The lighthouse stood at 10 o'clock to the early rising sun. Looking south the shoreline curves in a horseshoe shape to obscure the distant point behind a small island in the Lake.

The isle's stony surface covers about three acres, and from my position is at 3 o'clock to the rising sun. The surface of the island stands 30 feet above the waters at the land side, sloping to within 15 feet on the Lake side. It is crowned with a diadem of green fir and pine. It can be accessed by getting one's feet wet and wading a small partially submerged causeway of stone. However, it is a sanctuary for wildlife and admittance is not allowed at this time of year.

Behind us stood low lying hills that formed the rim of the bowl in which the waters of Lake Superior are contained. I conjectured what would happen if the earth found a rusty place on its pole and made a series of jerks, spilling this water across the features of earth, and its puny inhabitants.

In an hour of sunning and meditation on the beach we saw no more than half a dozen other people. It was a pristine experience.

I looked north beyond the lighthouse and thought of the Isle Royale which is in the territory of the state of Michigan. It is a large sanctuary island off the northwest shores of the Lake. There are moose and wolves who are permanent inhabitants of this frigid piece of real estate within the waters of Lake Superior.

The Lake almost never freezes solid across. However, the shoreline and harbors are hostage to ice from December to April in an average year. One year, so the story goes, the Lake did freeze as far as Isle Royale, and the wildlife walked across to the Island and set up permanent residence. They are protected there today from the wanton waste of man.

I have described scarcely a mile of this wonderful shoreline. There are hundreds of miles just as charming as those that our vision had taken into memories' scrapbook. Those waters were splashing that shore when our fathers came to this country. The waters were pure and clean when Abraham was follow- ing his sheep across barren deserts looking for fresh water and grass. The Indian was at the same time harvesting the long black grains of rice for which this territory is so well known, and the waterfowl were eating them long before any man was in the region.

The wild rice is on sale all through the northland. The Indian gets much of his sustenance and income from this lake grown grain. The individual kernel is about the size of the lead of a wooden pencil, and 5/8 of an inch in length. Five pounds of broken rice sold for $9.00, and the whole grain sold for $5.00 a pound. I brought four one pound bags home. As the rice is cooked the black outer shell bursts exposing the white sperm within. It is delicious when cooked, and may be served in any way that standard rice can be prepared.

I stretched out on the warm stone slab and was soon dozing away. The wind in its rush to the shore would blow an occasional drop of the fresh, pure water on my face. This was refreshing. It should never end. When I sat up Shan was gone. Later I could see her walking in the direction of the lighthouse among the large boulders that are strewn upon that part of the shore.

Youth have such marvelous eyes. They see the wonders of the world. Their vision has not been blinded by greed, and the push and shove of modern life. I covet their perspective. When Shan returned she was carrying a small frond of Balsam Fir. I crushed the substance with my fingers and savored the aromatic effluvium with my nostrils. There is a healing quality just to inhale the sweet odor of nature. There is more life out there than we can ever savor with our senses, but too often we neglect the few opportunities that we do have.

The flies can be vicious at this season in the north country by day. In the late afternoon the flies leave and about half an hour later the mosquitoes come to take their place. When the season is particularly bad with these vermin the people all appear to have Parkinson's disease, for their hands, arms, and legs are in constant motion, swatting, shooing, and killing.

We continued for 60 miles along the coast to Silver Bay. From this small village we turned west along Highway 1. It is a lovely stretch of highway going through the forests of northern Minnesota. We crossed the Kawishiwi River while we were on this Highway. Highway 1 ends in Ely, Minnesota, and so did our trip to the northland. It was about 60 miles across from Silver Bay to Ely.

In the early 20th century Ely was a Finnish logging camp. Hotels were not popular in those days but the small town had more than its share of Boarding Houses. Today the "Oberstar Boarding House" still stands. Its doors are now closed to the hot meals and clean covers of Ma Oberstar's House. Shan wondered if Sam Campbell was a frequenter of the establishment. It was opened in 1895. Today Ely looks half modern and half frontier town. There are about 4 traffic lights on the main street, with stop signs serving the balance of the town.

We had a meeting with Mr. Doug Jordan at the outfitters at 6:30 pm.. We called Audrey from up town and wished her health and happiness during our eight day communication blackout. From there we went to the Sir-"G"s restaurant for dinner. It is an Italian- American establishment. We dove back to the outfitters and prepared for the night. At our meeting with Mr. Jordan we saw a video on how to survive in the wilderness. We paid him $147.00 for the canoe rent, Duluth pack, and sleeping bags. The cabins are free on the night before launch. They are small rooms with four bunks in them.

We had rented a canoe with three paddles, one Duluth Bag, and two Kelty summer sleeping bags from the outfitters. The paddle is selected to fit the individual, standing just about chin high on each. Shan removed the sleeping bags from their sleeves and inserted a plastic garbage bag inside the cover and re-stuffed the sleeping bag. The top of the plastic bag was tied, securing it from the water, and the flap and draw-string finished sealing the bags. Our food had been doled out into generous individual meals before we left home. They were enclosed in zip-lock plastic bags, and the day for which it had been packed was written inside the bag on a piece of paper. We now packed the food into the Duluth Bag in the reverse order to which it was intended to be eaten. This was done in our room at the cabin.

We carried a Kelty Backpack for each of us. Each contained a bottle of cooking fuel, and two bottles of water. The sleeping bag was tightly lashed to the bottom of the frame. Our clothes had been packed in another sleeve with a plastic bag inside for protection. They made a bundle about the size of the sleeping bag and were stored in the top of the upper center compartment of the backpack. I had a heavy duty air mattress that served me well on the entire journey. The cooking utensils were in my bag, as was my camera, the ground cloth for the tent, the water filter, plastic plates, rain gear, and other personal items.

I was perspiring by the time we were finished packing for the wilderness, and went out to sample the rage of the mosquitoes. We had made all the preparations to the Nth degree, and felt satisfied that we were ready for our solo flight to the lake lands.

The "First Need" water filter is a pump that forces the water through a ceramic filter removing bacteria and most of the taste of the natural lake water. It is a very desirable tool for the wilderness, removing the Giardia cysts so that we did not become ill back in "God's Country". The water in these lakes is brownish from the tannin that is dissolved in it. The filter removes the color, and leaves the water with a very pleasant taste. When we got home I noticed the bad taste of the river water that we daily drink in Chattanooga.

The grounds of the "Outdoor Adventure Outfitters" has 12 acres, and a dock with some motor boats tied up along side. There is an office building, a bath house, a main dwelling, equipment building, the cook's breakfast building, several cabins, and parking areas. At 8:30 pm I had finished packing for the morrow, and was sitting on the dock. Shan was taking her bath. A light zephyr wafted across the mirror calm surface of the water. The temperature was about 70 degrees Fahrenheit and the mosquitoes were not too plentiful at that hour. The sun slid into the smooth surface of the water and I returned to the cabin for a night's sleep.

We had driven 1437 miles and arrived without incident. The Celica Toyota performed at its best. We were tired and ready for the night.

AUF WIEDERSEHN! CIVILIZATION

CHAPTER THREE

THE WILDERNESS INCURSION

Wednesday, July 21, 1993


I set the alarm clock in the cabin for an early arising, but Shan was up even earlier and had turned the alarm off. We dressed and went to the dinning room for breakfast. A young man named Cory was fixing pancakes for our last meal in civilization. He was an attractive young man from the University of Indiana, at Bloomington. Doug Jordan the owner of the operation taught band at that University in the distant past. Each year he advertises at the school for young worthies to spend the summer in the wilderness outfitting would-be Lewis and Clarkers, like Shan and me.

The van was already loaded and after our orange juice and pancakes we were carried about 20 miles to the end of the road, and the beginning of Lake One.

We were on the shore of the lake and on our own at 8:00 am.. The sky was azure with fair weather cummulus streaking the blue. The land dropped away from the shore at a very shallow angle, so that it was necessary to wade the canoe out a ways. The equipment was loaded and tied in to the thwarts so that it would not spill were we to do the unthinkable and tip the bottom of the canoe to the sky.

I was feeling brash and climbed into the rear of the canoe to do the steering. It was about 50 degrees when we got up, but under the sun the temperature rose to a high of 80 degrees. This would be the hottest weather that we would see for over 10 days.

There were several other parties loading and preparing for the wilderness. The spot where we entered was undeveloped, as are all of the features of the Boundary Waters Canoe Country. The entry spot is about 30 yards wide, and to the right side were patches of water lilly with their floating leaves, and white blossoms. We were putting into the South Kawishiwi River. The flow of the river is very slow, and our outbound trip will be upstream, though it is impossible to tell that there is a current.

Everything was lovely. Our 17 foot Alumacraft canoe served us well. Cory had selected an Alumacraft canoe because he felt that it was the better canoe. The Grumman may have a better reputation, but we were very satisfied with his choice. One must take good care of the canoe for it is the primary means of getting into the wilderness and to return.

We were taking about two paddle strokes to move the length of the canoe (17'). There is almost always a stiff breeze on the lake, and it always seems to be blowing in your face. We observed the other explorers as they left the put-in area. Some of them promptly took the wrong turn and ended up in some distant cove with no outlet. Strong, young men would pass us several times during the course of a day. We were amazed how little attention some of them seem to pay to the charts. Shan watched each bend and turn, and with a little head work we were able to always go forward without having to retrace our ways.

I must have asked Shan a thousand times if she had any idea where we were, and should we go to the left or the right of an island or a shore before us. A thousand times she would answer that she knew exactly where we were at any given time. It was not that I doubted her ability with a map, for she has been interested in navigation and orienteering for most of her life. I remember when she was just a kid. She would take a map and compass, locate some distant point on the chart, shoot a compass reading and head off through the heavily wooded area of east Tennessee arriving at the desired location and return. I was having more trouble with the map. She was navigating by dead-reckoning, and I was more informed using the compass. She would say that as long as we never lost our position we would always know where we were.

The Boundary Water Canoe Area was located on one river bank, and the other shore was private property. Cabins were nestled in the woods of the private side, with small piers jutting into the waters. We came to one bend and saw the last of civilization. It was an Outfitter's place sitting among weeds and grass on the left hand bank as we traveled outbound. A small child sitting within a screened-in porch called to us as we went by.

There are a series of lakes with creative names. We were now in Lake One heading for Lake Two, Lake Three, and Lake Four. I assumed that the man who named them had just learned the skill of counting and applied all of the numbers that he had learned to the lakes. Very clever of him.

Lake One is a medium sized lake, and has the general shape of a large fish swimming to the southwest. We entered the Lake near the tail of the fish and proceeded in a southwesterly direction down to the head of the fish and then back to the southeast. I was steering the canoe from the rear, and the "J" strokes that were needed to maintain course were taking there toll on my strength. In fact this was the last time that I sat in the rear with one small exception.

The lakes flow freely from one to another, and there is no definite line where you can say that the front of the canoe is in one lake and the rear is just leaving another. However, there are rapids that form a distinct line between the two on some lakes. You do not canoe the rapids, but portage around them. When the Voyageurs were king of this back country, buying furs and trading trinkets with the Indians, they used these same portages. The Indian in some misty past had worn them with moccasin covered feet, carrying their fragile birchbark canoes around the rough waters. Today we use the same paths around the dangerous water.

The chart that we are carrying is printed on Textopaque, a plastic impregnated wood fibre that sheds water like the proverbial 'duck's back'. You can stick it into the water, bring it out and shake it dry with a flip of the wrist. These maps have a statement that says, "This map is not intended for navigational use, and is not represented to be accurate in every respect." We were working from map No. F-31 published by the W.A. Fisher Company, Box 1107, Virginia, Minnesota 56792. It also carries a statement that the map has been "Reviewed for accuracy by the Forest Service, U.S.D.A. - Revised 1993" so it is the most up-to-date map there is for the wilderness. We would find that a Portage might be in the wrong location or a campsite could be misplaced. We were not ultra critical of the chart since it served our purpose very well. The scale on the map is Three Inches = Two Miles. Thats a nice scale for the type trip that we were doing. They are in a 34' x 22' format, and fold down very nicely to 5.5' x 8.5'. Printed on the back in a bad brown color is an overview of the entire lake system and the map numbers that correspond to each area.

At the end of Lake One was just such a portage. Portage distances are marked on the chart. The portage from Lake One to Lake Two is shown to be 30 rods. The rod is a surveyor's measure of 16.5 feet, but it happens to be almost the exact length of a canoe. I learned to count six paces to the rod when I was loaded with gear making a crossing. These are not paved walkways, but can be very rough, stony, and filled with mud when the rains had recently fallen.

When we approached a portage we hoped there were no other canoeists there. You try to find a place where you can take out without getting your feet in the water. The gear is unlashed and lifted from the canoe. If it is a very short portage one will carry the front and one the rear of the canoe. When it was a longer portage we would put the canoe, which was fitted with a padded yoke, on Shan or my shoulders and carry it across solo. We always made two trips in order to get everything across. On the other side a discussion would develop as to the best spot to set the canoe for loading. When the gear was all loaded, and retied for security, we would begin to paddle.

There is a very small body of water between the first and second portage. It must not be more than a few hundred rods across, and then you are untying, and carrying your gear across the second portage. That portage is listed on the chart as being 40 rods across. Once we were back in the water on the other side of the second portage we were in Lake Two. This Lake resembles a perched Eagle sitting in the wilderness. Our direction of travel was to the southeast across the length of the Lake.

There were Bald Eagles flying over the water on their morning fishing sorties. One dived just above our heads. I had wanted to carry a fishing pole with me, but Shan had many convincing reasons why it was not a good idea. The license cost $20.00, and that spoke the loudest of any of the arguments. I did not fish. We saw the Eagles dive toward the water and carry their breakfast off in their strong talons. Fish jumped around our campsites, and on occasion we would get a view of one of them in the air, returning to the lake in a sharp splash.

At one portage we saw some men fishing at the foot of the rapids. A young lad hooked a pike that was about 14 inches long. He was shouting like a Banshee for someone to come with a net. The fish was pulled from the water, and just short of his hand fell back to freedom in the lake. It is the sore mouth that I was sorry about, having just a few days before had a tooth removed, and knowing the difficulty of eating under such circumstances. The mouth does heal more rapidly than many parts of the body due to the large amount of blood available to the head.

Lake Three is oval shaped with the longest axis pointing northeast by southwest. We were sitting on our life preservers and this threw our center of gravity a little higher than I appreciated. Yet we were still low enough in the water so that the lake's surface appeared as a flat disc. We crossed Lake Three, and entered Lake Four. Lake Four is a very long and narrow lake with draws and inlets tempting the hasty canoeist into the dead end harbors.

The map showed a large passage between Lakes Three and Four. There was another way around but it was farther to the south and did not appear as large an opening. As we approached the point we discovered that it was a very narrow choke point that was strewn with large rocks. We decided to attempt the entry into Lake Four from this point. It was so narrow that I stepped out of the canoe onto one of the rocks, and pulled it through. As I reentered the canoe I heard a noise and looked about 10 feet to my right and there were about a dozen ducks feeding on the wild rice. They would stretch up, take the seed end and pull off the long black grains of rice. They paid no attention to our passing. We had been too busy to notice them at first and they were too busy eating to worry about us. They sure were cute little outfits bobbing up and down on the water as they were eating.

There were leaches in the water. One of them attached itself to Shan's paddle, and would not let go. They resemble a snail who left home without his shell. This one was no more than 1-1/2 inches long. Later on we saw them at least six inches in length and one-half inch in diameter. I bathed in the water and Shan swam in it at times and we never did get one of them attached to us. I would have considered that a real horror.

About half way across this lake I began to grow weary, and welcomed a stop that Shandelle was recommending for the night. We found a lovely campsite hidden by two islands, and stopped there for the night. We did not have a "Bear pole" and had to arrange for ourselves. We found a sturdy tree with a strong limb some 25 feet in the air. I tied the end of the rope around a fist sized rock and threw it until at last it went over the limb. We had to have both ends of the rope so I flipped a wave in my end of the rope and the stone fell a few inches. This was continued until I had both ends securely in my hands.

Removing the rock, I tied the two ends together and went to start a fire under the U.S. Forest Service grate. The grate was made of cast iron. It stood about a foot tall, and the top was roughly 18 x 24" with 11 slits that let the heat and smoke out. The three sides opposite the cooking side were backed with large stones to keep the wind away from the fire. I found some small tinder an laid it across a piece of paper, and then piled on fagots of larger and larger sticks. The fire was lit with a cigarette lighter that we had brought along for that purpose.

I had so exhausted myself with the canoe, the bear rope and building the fire that I was not really very hungry. Shan was busy with the small Swede gas stove getting supper ready. We named this camp, "Bear Trap Camp" because it gave us so much trouble swinging the Duluth Pack full of food. It is suggested that the bottom of the bag be at least 12 feet off the ground, and that the sides be no closer than six feet to the nearest tree.

It was a full time job feeding the fire, for there was no large wood or hardwood available. A fire is something like a pet for it must be fed or it will die. It gives the appearance of life, and is a friendly addition to any campsite. The wind and clouds too have motion and the suggestion of life, but they blow where they wish and when they wish. The fire is a dependent life form releasing energy that has been stored from the sun and soil. There was no way to keep the column of smoke from blowing across you, and it was not long until you and your clothes smelled like dried meat.

The sun was warming and brightening the camp as we set up the tent and staked it to the ground. The camp was about 10 feet above the surface of the lake. The toilet was located far back in the woods and did not have a seat covering the pit. I took a plastic bag and made a cover to to keep flies and mosquitoes from coming to camp from the toilet. The bag was held in place with three sticks of wood to keep the winds from removing it.

I had developed a special "heavy duty" insect repellant before leaving home. It contained a small portion of Tinactin dissolved in Jergen's Hand Lotion, with an ample supple of kerosene added. I half expected it to ruin the skin. It worked as well as any of the other commercial brands of repellant.

Shan was a wonderful traveling companion. Never a short word in the two weeks of ultra close relationship in the car and in the tent over night. There is nothing to improve a nice trip like a pleasant and hard working companion.

Supper consisted of camp stew made of 2 diced potatoes, 1/2 diced onion, 2 cubes of bouillon, 1/4 pound of cheddar cheese, dried corn, dried peas, dried carrots, and dried vegetarian meaty stuff. Shan is a very strict vegetarian, and I am the world's only meat eating vegetarian. I do eat some meats, but thoroughly subscribe to the principles of vegetarianism. We ate around seven o'clock. The flies had gone and the mosquitoes had not come out as yet. This was our time. Shan made KoolAde to wash the foods down with. We had brought potatoes double wrapped in aluminum foil. These I slid over the fire and let bake while supper was being prepared. They were delicious, but we had more than we were able to eat. The surplus was taken after each meal to the woods and buried with the assistance of Shan's backpack trowel. If they were pretty dry foods we would burn them in our fire.

When it came time to do the dishes we discovered that the cheese had been an error, for the pans were almost impossible to clean. We never did that again, even if it was good. We located a Blueberry patch near camp, making note of its location so we could have fresh berries for breakfast. The season seems to be a little late this year, and the berries are not all ripe yet. They resemble the Tennessee Blueberry or Huckleberry as they were called when I was a child in the woodland of my home state.

I went to the lake and took a skinny dip, and washed my clothes, hanging them across an improvised clothes line. I made clothes pens by taking sticks about 1/2 inch in diameter and 5 inches long, and split the end for about one inch up. This we would spread and attach the clothes to the line with them. The clothes were mostly dry the next morning.

We carried the 60 pound Duluth pack to the Bear rope. We tied it to one side of the rope and I then lifted it as high as I could reach. Then with the help of a small pine pole I pushed the pack higher into the air as Shan took up the slack in the other end of the rope. We had tied another rope to the pack and thus were able to pull the pack away from the trunk of the tree, and tie them both off to other trees. It was hard exhausting work, but each day as we ate more of the food the Duluth pack became lighter, and more of a pleasure to swing into the air.

The fire had burned down to a bed of glowing ashes, and by morning was completely dead.

I awoke during the dark night and listened to the four calls of the loon. It is a weird sound emanating from the darkness. I thought of the centuries and millenniums that those sounds have arisen in the dark of the night. We went to bed just as the mosquitoes came out. There was a general hum and roar in the forest, and over the tent above us. They were striking the exterior of the tent, and it sounded as if drops of water were falling upon us.

Thursday, July 22, 1993


Breakfast call came early today. Shan had gone into the island and picked from its store of blueberries to go on our cereal. I call all of this land an island, and that they are in varying sizes. We ate Granola made by Sovex, Inc. in Collegedale, Tennessee. We added the Blueberries and sliced up some banana, adding powdered milk and water to finish a delightful meal. Hot chocolate was the drink, and I was well over fed.

The Wild Indian Strawberrys were ripe. It is a small marble sized fruit that looks like the ones we have in Tennessee. The Tennessee variety has been out of season for a month. We did not pick them but enjoyed seeing a friend in the woods.

After breakfast I shaved and worked at combing my hair. It is wild in a civilized setting and totally unmanagable in the wilderness. I wore a hat the first day out.

I am not used to having anything on my head, and found it very hot and uncomfortable. Shan helped me with a bandana headpiece, and then laughed saying that I looked like the pope with his crown. After a couple of days the bandana began to bother me. It was causing the hair above my forehead to be held in a direction that it does not normally go, and it ached across the hairline.

We broke camp after doing the dishes and repacking our things. Camping can get to be very messy if one does not keep up with the order as he goes. Finishing our traverse of Lake Four we went around a fish shaped projection of an island, and arrived at a portage of 25 rods. This was our third portage of the trip. It takes the better part of an hour to unload, portage, and reload the canoe at each stop. When we were at a very short span of water between two portages, I suggested that we might not need to go to the trouble of tying the gear to the canoe. Shan said that the probability was the same on a short trip as it was on a long one, and that settled that. If there is anything that she knows about it is probability. I did not broach the subject again.

The fourth portage was across a small round, unnamed lake across from portage three. The little lake had an island near its center. The scenery was breath taking, and the temperature perfect. I was consuming about three quarts of water a day, and most of it was being excreted through the skin's pores. My urine was a very dark yellow showing that the kidneys were not getting an adequate amount of water, so I drank more, and still more. There was no burning or stinging on urination. I must have been in the early stages of dehydration. It kept Shan pumping water and adding Kool Ade or GatorAde to some of the drink. We were taking a powerful vitamin each morning, and were certainly getting our share of salt. The dried beef that I brought to snack on was very salty.

The distance to the fifth portage was very short and we traversed it to enter Hudson Lake. Now there is a name for you. We have left the creative series of lakes names One, Two, Three, and Four. This portage was only 10 rods across, but you still had to go through all of the standard operations to cross it. The portages were caused where the Kawishiwi River narrowed down between lakes and confronted the canoeist with a series of rapids.

Hudson Lake is shaped like the moccasined foot and leg of a fairy stepping across the muskeg of the northland. It is a long narrow lake that ended at portage No. six. Six was 105 rods long. It rose steeply from the shore for about 30 yards, leveled off and then descended on the other side. It was a rocky and treacherous crossing. I had the canoe on my shoulder and had just climbed up from the water's edge when I slipped. My entire thought was of not letting the canoe hit the ground. At the last third of this portage on the Insula Lake side someone has attached a crudely carved canoe rest to a large pine tree. You could walk up to it, and place the front of the canoe on it letting the back rest on the ground. This was a bad portage and I dreaded it on our return.

Having crossed the sixth portage we were now in Lake Insula. This is a very large lake strewn with rocky islands, that cut it up into the appearance of many smaller lakes. The temperature had been 72 degrees all day.

After entering Insula Lake we took camp on a small island. There was only one campsite on the island. We had the world to ourselves. I would often wonder if the world was still out there. Had the computer disappeared, were there no racing automobiles on the smooth man made stone slabs that we call highways? Was it still there are were we alone in creation? An occasional passing canoeist would give us a subtle hint that the world was still intact.

Shan insisted that we carry a lawn chair into the wilderness. I found it a very pleasant rudiment left over from civilization. Other boaters would pass and laugh at me sitting in camp in my lawn chair. They would call something like, "It doesn't take much to go first class." It was about 4 pm. when we docked at our new campsite. I busied myself getting the "Bear Trap" set so bears would not deprive us of our food in the night.

After camp was set up Shan took a swim and I a bath. I washed my dirty clothes, hanging them on the line to dry. I then moved my chair out to a smooth ledge of rock outcropping above the water's edge. A light nylon windbreaker felt good once we stopped working. I sat there reading from Thoreau's book "Walden". Shan had carried it and a Bible with us. Clouds were beginning to streak the sky and we saw that the weather was changing. We had just finished the second beautiful day. It was now our turn for some cloudy weather.

We saw several other adventurers mostly at the portages. There were people from 75 years old to two and three. One man had brought his dog and was requiring the dog to carry a double pack across on his back. The packs contained the dogs rations and requirements for the trip. We saw some teen aged boys whose father had required them to come along on the trip. They were sullen, as they went about their work crossing the portages.

I drew the ashes of the fire to one side, raked the remaininng fire into the center and covered it with the ashes. When I was a child we did this in the fireplace at night. It is called 'banking the fire'. As I went to bed I was suffering from a terrible toothache. I took four aspirin and a Fiornal, finaly going to sleep while it was still hurting.

Friday, July 23, 1993


During the night a light rain fell on our tent. We named this camp "Moose Camp", and decided to stay here for several days. The toilet has a lid and is far away through the forest from camp. There are large boulders that Shan can use to cook on. It is a good location, except that there is very little firewood. I removed the ashes from the smouldering fire and with a little tinder and some fagots of Squaw Wood soon had the fire going. I took a long pine pole and used it as a ram rod, going around knocking up stumps and roots to use as fuel.

We had some clothes on the line but they almost completely dried in spite of the light rain. They were under the overhanging branches of some trees and in full reach of the wind. Being overcast it did not get as cool as it was on Wednesday night.

To the north of the camp was a cove full of water lilies growing and blooming. I could see Shan walking on the far side. She was off exploring the island. For breakfast she prepared oatmeal with raisins, dates, brown sugar, and hot chocolate with marshmallows. We have been toasting some of the marshmallows over the evening campfire. We threw out as much of our breakfast as we ate. I discovered that some of the things like oatmeal would burn and not have to be buried. Across the lake a forest of white birch trees were swaying in the breeze. There were some beech trees growing on our island. They were more like shrubs than trees, but it was always good to see deciduous trees.

Shan came back into camp from her stroll around the island. She had an arm load of firewood and tales of Moose tracks as large as small plates and droppings from where they had stood and grazed among the water lilies. On one of our walks around the island I saw a small rose of some variety. It had large 'rose hips'. I bit into one of them and discovered that it was filled with small seed inside a thin wall. It had no particular taste.

Shan would spend time reading alone and other times she would read to me from Walden. We turned in tired after an active day, and slept for about 10 hours.

Saturday, July 24, 1993


Yes, I slept for 10 hours but it was not the most restful of sleep. I was bothered with a pounding heart and sleep Apnea. Shan would shake me and tell me to reposition myself to see if I might get to breathing regularly. We arose to a lovely day. A more beautiful and tranquil setting for the Sabbath could scarcely be imagined. By 8 am. about a quarter of the sky was clear and bright.

By 10 am. there were patches of blue sky breaking through at intervals. It was a very pleasant day. A pair of loons sat in the water before our camp. Their heads sticking above the water with their bodies lying low. The heads looked like sculptured smoker's pipes sticking out of the water. You can canoe up fairly close to the loons before they dive. You sit there for three or four minutes waiting for them to surface. At long last they come to the surface a hundred yards from where they dove. If they do not like the appearance of things they take a single short breath and dive again. There is something mysterious about these birds. They give the impression of having an ancient wisdom, and their cry in the night makes you thankful to be tucked away in the tent.

Tensions began to drain out of my tired body, and I could feel healing coming to my entire being, both physical and spiritual. There are no sounds except the occasional distant sound of a voice, the splash of a paddle or fish that jumped from the lake. For lunch we had onion sandwiches. The food pack is getting noticeably lighter. In the afternoon I took a nap and arose to see that the sky was mostly clear. I went to the water's edge and washed some clothes, including a white shirt (which was now dingy) and a pair of trousers. I was wearing my old country overalls.

In the soft morning sun light Shan slipped the canoe into the water. It cast a mirror image on the surface, since the wind had not started blowing. She worked her way into a distant cove. I could see her sitting there when all at once she began to move her arms. I thought that she was calling my attention to something in the water near her or lurking on the shore near by. I would strain my eyes and look for all possibilities. At times the waving was more pronounced than at others. Then it dawned on me that see was shooing away the morning flies.

When Shan returned she went Blueberry picking and came back to camp announcing that she was going to cook blueberry pancakes. As she was cooking, she heard a splash across the way and looked just in time to see two twin moose step out of the birchwood forest into the water. She called for me to look. Then out came the mother. I guess that she sent the young ones out in case there was danger she could escape unscathed. She stepped into the brownish water, turning her brown-black side to us. There she was ingesting large drafts of the cool lake water and not giving us the time of day. She continued along the shore grazing from the tender shoots that grow between earth and water. Then without alarm or signal the three of them stepped back into the forest and were lost to our sight.

The moose aims for food, and drink. His shelter and clothes are the same every day of the year. He owes nothing, living on another's property without pay or permission. He does not care who is in the White House. He is neither Democrat nor Republican. He is American by birth, and does not care what the design, and stains upon the flag may be. He is neither capitalist nor communist. He is a willful being, wandering across international borders, eating and drinking where he pleases, accepting direction from none and giving none. He is his own government, he is his own person. He is no patriot!

That is why this was called "Moose Camp". The father was not along, and Shan says that he does not stay with the family after the calving season. Bull moose can stand 7 to 8 feet at the withers, with the neck and head extending above that. They look front heavy, as if they might fall over forwards in a strong rear wind. Shan took pictures of them in the water. By the time I got my camera out of the pack and ready to go, they were gone. I still took a picture of the spot where they had been, with the thought that I might draw the three on the surface of the print, or was it just out of frustration?

I can assure you that this was the most exciting thing that had happened, and a portend of things to come. My thoughts turned to them in another time. In the short, grey days of winter. The insects have gone, and the snows have come to replace them. How do they occupy their time during these hours, days and months? They do not have computers to play games on or write their adventures with. In winter they await the coming of spring with all of the patience of God's creation, except man. I can imagine them on crisp, cold, clear, moonlight nights holding their rituals of survival. There they stand among the green of moss, and leaf, the brown of trunk, and duff upon the ground. No plow has ever broken this sod. No human labor has sought to wring wealth from this soil. The ceremonies continue. The wind is eternally singing songs in the tree tops that have eluded the masters. It is a choir for the woodland service.

With hot chocolate heated on the grate of the fire we washed down the excellent blueberry pancakes. It goes without saying that there was always the chore of dishes after a meal. I served my shift at that each time we ate. The bottom of the pan had been coated with soap so that the soot could the more easily be washed away. It was my chore to see that the water did not boil over and remove the soap. I did an acceptable job.

I took a nap at 2 pm. and upon arising discovered that the fire had burned out. I built another and then went scurrying through the forest in search of downed wood and roots. We began to observe the winds, clouds and weather that was developing around us. You can see the results of our labor in Chapter Five on Weather Considerations.

We were told to "Take nothing but photographs and to leave nothing but footprints". They also talk in the wilderness about "Leave no trace camping". That is difficult for enough footprints will make a trail, and erosion can then do its thing to the land. Man is hard on nature by his very presence.

For dinner Shan prepared Camp Stew again. It contained fresh diced onions, a package of dry vegetable soup, dried corn, dried peas, dried carrots, dried glutin, rice and broth cubes. We drank water and later roasted marshmallows over the fire.

Sunday, July 25, 1993


It rained all night and into the morning. It was a very light rain, and at 12 o'clock we decided to break camp and go back to Lake Four. Its amazing how much action we brought to the idea once we made the decision. We had been listlessly walking around with no sense of direction. Now we were moving with a purpose. Man needs a purpose to life. I believe that a lack of purpose is the cause of many people's problems.

We broke camp, loaded the canoe, and started back over the route that we had come just a few days before. We crossed the 105 rod portage. It is the one that I identified as portage six. That put us back into Hudson Lake. At the end of Hudson came the three short portages, numbers five, four, and three, thus back into Lake Four.

As we were working our way across the lakes and portages, the sun had come out and the temperature was about 75 degrees. We found one of the most beautiful campsites that we had seen, and I immediately named it 'Camp Gnome'. It was truly a fairyland.

Someone had installed a bear pole so campers could raise their food from the bears. It has to be a very strong pole stretched horizontally between two trees and securely attached. All the camper has to do is to throw his rope over and pull up the pack.

The campsite was located on a small peninsula jutting out from the main island. The width of the peninsula was about 30 yards across. We were camped in the center. To the side of the camp there rose a beautiful forest. The trees were large and well spaced with the floor of the forest covered by moss, lichen, and fern. It is a damp, open forest that looked as if Snow White and the seven dwarfs could not be far away. I have a gnome like friend back home. I expected to see him sitting upon on of the boulders with Ms. White and the other six, as I walked through this wonderland of pine, fir, and hemlock. There are small Christmas tree shaped hemlocks waist to shoulder high scattered here and there through the wonderland.

Large boulders are strewn among the trees. They too are covered with moss, and lichen. One of the stones stood about 10 feet tall, coming to a point like the gables of a house. I called it "Sanctuary Rock". Trails fanned out through the forest, with one terminating at the toilet.

Just after we got the tent up it began to rain. We had prayed and hoped for a nice day and we had had one. All life proceeds on hope. Were it not for hope we would throw ourselves upon the wave and perish. Hope continues to tell us that the best is yet before us. I went into the tent to escape the rainfall. I blew up the air mattress and lay writing of the adventures and beauty of the woodland.

Monday, July 26, 1993


It was raining and windy in the night. When we awoke from the night's sleep the sky gave promise of clearing. Spots of blue began to show through only to have the clouds and wind zip the hole shut again, later in the morning.

We had a breakfast of oatmeal, and hot chocolate. In the oatmeal, Shan had put dried apples, raisins, dates, and brown sugar. We started a potato baking on the grate above the fire. By noon the potato was cooked to a dry mealy consistency that Shan said she liked so much. I tended the fire all day with wet stumps and fagots of smaller wood. I am a regular smoke magnet. I moved all day long from one side of the fire to the other, and the smoke would follow me. There is something about smoke following beauty, and I was a beauty there in the wilderness!!!

Shan was busy 'documenting our trip' with film just as I was doing with words. The camera was thrust into my face at every turn, and I was often reprimanded in gentle tones for not taking more photographs with my camera.

The Northern Pike were jumping, slashing, and feeding off the point of our peninsula. At one point seven ducks floated by in an armada close enough that we could have reached out and brought them into camp. Shan fed the screaming gulls more of our bread than I ate on the entire trip. The gull can jump into the air from the surface of the lake. Most of the waterfoul take a long, flapping run across the water to get airborne.

After a nice rest I came from the tent to meet with all of Shan's enthusiasm. She told me to help her bring the canoe from the shore into camp. She then lashed a paddle between two trees horizontally across, and about breast high. The canoe was turned bottom up and one end set on the paddle. She put my lawn chair under the high end and the flotation cushions further back to form a seat for her. When the light rains would come we would scurry for shelter under the canoe. She was very proud of this convenience.

A party of noisy youth moved into a campsite across the way from us. I looked over to Shan and said, "Do you remember the song, 'WHEN YOU COME TO THE END OF A PERFECT DAY'. Well, we have just seen the end of ours.!"

By bedtime there came a gentle rain and we made our way into the tent for the night. I was suffering from a tooth ache, but soon dropped off to sleep. I have a wonderful pain reliever in sleep. This night was to be the highlight of our entire trip, but I will save that for tomorrow's tale.

Tuesday, July 27, 1993


A light rain had run us to bed a little earlier than usual last night. The wind lay for one of the few times that we were up there. In the silence you could hear the waters of the Kawishiwi River falling over the rapids and into Lake Four. I was sleeping lightly because of an aching tooth. It was 11:30 pm. when I heard a noise. I awoke Shan and said, is that noise you breathing? We listened! It was a low cow type noise. Then we heard a very large animal walking in the water just at the head of our tent.

We took the flashlight and stepped into the calm night. By the water's edge at the foot of our tent we could see a large hole in the clouds. The Big Dipper and Polaris were looking through. I picked up a fist sized stone, and Shan got the cookset to beat retreat for what we thought was a bear. I called into the black, "Get out of here." From very near where we were standing came a very loud and heavy breathing sound. It was as if you shaped the mouth to say 'foo' and then blew out a very heavy, sustained breath. It had the quality of Paul Bunyon sleeping on his back. The sound went on for several minutes.

We turned the flashlight on and in that direction, but could see nothing because of some brush that stood between us and the noise. The heavy breathing continued. "Should I hit him with this rock?", I asked Shan. "No hold it!", she responded. At last we could see something in the water at the foot of the rock where we were standing.

Turning the light on and in that direction we saw something about four feet long swimming in the water. "Its a snake!", Shan said grabbing my arm. It was a wonderful swimmer, not disturbing the water excessively as it moved from our left to right. We had stepped back on the stone, and the thing began to come out of the water just about where we had been standing. It rested there for a couple of seconds, and went back in the water. All this time it was continuing the heavy breathing.

It went around the point and to the area where we heard the first noises coming from. We went back into the tent and heard the mother moose slog off through the water with her calf. We had been standing between a mother moose and her baby and had lived to tell about it. The moose is a good swimmer. He goes through the water with just the top of the head showing from the water, and breathing out long noisy blows of air. It was not a bear, or an ancient lake monster, or even an otter. It was the most treasured of all, the moose. We were within a couple yards of the beast and escaped unscathed. It was a marvelous night experience, and one that we do not wish to duplicate. The moose with her offspring can be a very treacherous animal. Very dangerous!

Sleep was slow coming. We could hear the sound of small feet around the tent, and thought of our little friend the chipmunk. He lives in a hole at the base of a pine tree in camp. We dare not call him a visitor to our camp, but rather us an uninvited guest at his home. His needs are few, water being the least of them. His visits to the doctor are few and taxes nonexistent. He gets a benevolent handout from time to time by a sympathetic camper, and that rounds out his needs.

Nature has such simple ways. At our last camp there was a yellow jacket type bee that built a nest in the ground. He built a volcano shaped cone about the entrance with the earth that was being removed from the apartment below. Shan lined around the area with rock to protect his work from the sightless step of man. She looked in on his progress from time to time. When it came bedtime for the little insect, he would go in and block the opening with a plug of damp earth. Shan took photos of his open house and the closed one.

We had brought two bottles of fuel for the cookstove. We just finished the smaller of the two this morning. For breakfast we had toast with peanut butter, and strawberry jam, grits and brown sugar. We had hot chocolate for our drink. After doing the dishes, shaving, combing and cleaning as best we could, we broke camp and headed for Lake One.

We went through Portages Two and One and were back into Lake One. there we began the search for a camp for the last night of our wilderness journey. This had been Shan's 29th birthday. Shame, but I forgot it. It was the best day that we had.

Here at Camp Birch, as we called it, there was a bear pole in place and the Duluth pack was growing lighter by the day. I brought two pairs of shoes into the wilderness. One was a rather new pair of inexpensive loafers. The other was a trusty pair of shoes that I bought about 1986. They were black and had steel protected toes. They served several years at Starkey Printing Company when I was doing estimating. They had crepe soles. I do not like soft soles for standing, but they are alright for a sitting job. After I retired them from service they became lawn mowing shoes. They served well on this trip. The strings had broken several times and had been tied in several places.

At Camp Birch I had a difficult time getting a fire started. I could find no dry tinder or small dry twigs. At last in a very solemn ceremony I burned my shoes. That gave the fire the needed impetus and we had no problem keeping it going. This was a symbol that we were leaving the wilderness on the morrow. Everything burned except the steel toes. I brought them back home as souvenirs of the wilderness days.

I sat watching the shoes burn. I was thinking of the deeds both good and bad that they carried me on. I can not blame them for taking me on the poor journeys more than I would credit them a part of the good that they were party to. While the shoes were burning Shan changed into her swim suit and sat on the edge of the lake dipping a toe into the water that remembered last winter, and was dreaming of the next. She looked like a lonesome mermaid contemplating the future on the margin of the brine. At last summoning all her courage she made the plunge into the water with the leaches, turtles, crayfish and other creatures. She did not swim long.

We ran a clothes line in each camp and would open the sleeping bags and hang them across the rope to the benefit of the sun and air. The weather did not always permit. At one location as we were paddling out of the wilderness we passed a campsite where they were trying to dry their sleeping bags. The plastic bags that they used for covers were on the outside of the sleeve, and had gotten snagged and then the bags were wet by the rain. It would have been difficult to dry the bags in the weather that we were having and very uncomfortable to sleep in them wet.

I contemplated this region when the blast of winter was upon it. Great leas of snow supported by two feet of ice or more. The bear, moose, and wolf are no longer restricted by the water, but can now roam from island to island without swimming. This rhythm has continued for millennia, and will go on until the lakes are overgrown by vegetation, and have become muskegs and peat swamps. Sometime later the descending glaciers will again scoop out fresh water lakes and the process will be repeated.

The process is as natural as the rising and the setting of the sun. Only the frequency of its period is longer. Man is rooted to this planet with an umbilical cord planted in the soil. When he goes forth to visit the moon he must remain attached to the soil of earth. He must carry his life support system with him throughout the universe.

There is an irresistible urge in mankind to carve their names on things. Some have them on marble slabs, monuments, the morning paper, or the log that forms the seat around the campfire. The motive is the same, to remind other that they were there. I remember reading Count Felix Von Luckner's memoirs of his service in World War One. He captured an enemy merchant ship, and had transferred the people and what they needed of the supplies to his ship. He then went aboard with a prize crew. When he was alone he went to a handrail on one of the decks, and found his name carved there from when he had sailed that very ship before the war. There is an old saying, "Fool's names and fool's faces are always found in public places." Sorry about that Mr. Bill Clinton!

Wednesday, July 28, 1993


It rained in the night and was still raining when we awoke. This was the day that we were to leave the wilderness. The rain stopped and we got up and quickly broke camp. It did not rain any morethat day. We loaded the canoe and paddled the short distance to the 'Take-Out Point' there on Lake One. It was no more than an hour's work to get back to that spot. We got out and piled our things to the side so as not to be in another's way.

The outfitter sent Cory back to get us and we were in Civilization again.


END