If we were still in our frisky 50s, this would probably have been a 4-5 day trip. As it is we move, then need to lick our wounds for a day before the next move happens.
For the commas, substitute 1-2 hours of carrying canoes and forty pound packs across rocky slippy portage trails.
I did get a new-to-me Souris Quetico 16, 42lb, for this years' portaging. The old Seda Scout 16 is a great boat but 55lb, did not feel equal to ol' 55 on the the long portages of this trip. The Souris River boats don't use gelcoat as the finish on kevlar, instead a layer of fiberglass then epoxy. The problem is the epoxy weathers off leaving a raw fiber finish. The hull itself seemed in good shape so I bought it and tried to refinish with a new coat of epoxy, West Systems 105 with 207 hardener using the pumps. The first coat went on well, the second started to set up after 15 minutes, dragging and streaking on the hull, made a nasty mess. I was upset for a while then looked at the old boat with all its scars, figured ten minutes after this one went on the water there'd be new scratches and I'd stop noticing my sloppy job. Gave it a third thin coat for luck and went on with it.
A night in the Clearwater lodge, then load up and head out.
First camp on Pine, one of the earlier ones with a little bay out to a island which is a peninsula at this water level. The tent sites were lousy so we moved, a pity as the island looked fishy to me. In the night I fell off the side of the 9" ledge I was sleeping on, shocked awake and cramped badly. From a song Lucky Girl, the line
I complain about getting older, but I'm lucky to be alive
appertains. Usually there'd be a link here to the song, do you know how many Lucky Girl songs there are ? can't find the one.
Big winds following, waves and boats corkscrewing in the waves and wind.
We didn't like any of the sites and we ended up in last Pine camp, right on BWCA border, next to McFarland with cabins on shore. Meantime a cold front came through with more big winds and we didn't move, hoping for better days. On the off day we fished a bit to no result and hiked a possible portage into E Pike. That was 0.8 miles oneway with about 500ft elevation change and nasty steep bits. Big nope. That night the winds also brought a little fall of rain.
Fortunately the new Kelty Noah's Tarp held up. The old one leaked last year, after three days' and a couple inches of rain. I thought it would be fine for another decade or so, my wife preferred to get me a new tarp.
My new used boat is named Le Tigre, when the light hits right one can see why.
Pretty calm day for the next, time to take pictures and go fish for dinner, gleaning some nice dry wood from the old beaver lodges to cook on.
Lost the Rapala that was working to a big pike, dagnabbit. The pike kept for dinner had light yellow flesh not appealing and didn't taste good. That was odd, previous years the pike have been perfectly good eating. The bellies contained fat cigar-shaped minnows about 3-4" long no wonder that Rapala was working.
Next morning the going was bad, bad already on E Pike with one very nasty passage around a point into the teeth of the winds. My wife was turning around trying to tell me something. I yelled, "dear I love you and always will, at the moment we need to paddle not talk". Actually that was in my head only, what I said was PADDLE ! (dammit). Long portage again, then winds on W Pike were appalling.
I've never seen class V whitewater on flatwater before.. two to three foot waves, spume torn from the whitecaps by the wind. That's a force 7 on the Beaufort scale, 'moderate gale'. It looked immoderate from my knees in the canoe. No pictures of that, I was busy at the time. We hunkered down in a sheltered bay and tied up the boats, then went back to portage and contemplated camping there miserably.
Well the weather report didn’t call for rain
But when we rounded that bend it hit us like a train
The thunder clapped and the sky went black
We were hollering Ooooooooo
By 6pm the waves were down to mere whitecaps and we attempted it. There were a couple of screams on the ferry across the big waves with canoes pitching hard, I confess. My wife oddly was cheerful and chatty, found out later she'd been hitting the bourbon at the portage, a drop in the hot chocolate then a shot before leaving. Now I know the recipe for a contented bow paddler. The good camp was occupied but they said the island was open as winds had pinned everyone down. Island camp nice, Julie fed us soup and small dehydrated meal at 8pm, all exhausted. By way of recompense a perfectly calm evening with clear skies and light.
Enjoyed coffee in the sun on the beach in the morning. The hard wood we found didn't want to split, then it was recalcitrant to burn, so breakfast took a while. Worth it tho.
Finally got to the fishing, which was good.
Squads of boats came through today as all the stormbound campers got moving again. We loafed in our excellent island camp and watched them with tolerant sympathy.
Took a couple of glamour shots of my fishing gear, a Shakespeare Wonderrod fiberglass rod from the 50s with matching Shakespeare 2062 reel. This vintage gear is in no way a compromise - the fiberglass is robust and survives the bashing around in a canoe well, the reel is a beautiful piece of American engineering with about twenty parts all of them made of steel or brass. Modern reels have hundreds of parts and are designed to be disposable, the 2062 will be fishing as long as there's anyone willing to turn the handle.
I took a fall over that log at some point, came down hard on my back where the lifejacket took most of the blow. I lay there thinking it could have gone much worse, then noticed my dislocated finger. In these situations the body goes into mild shock and you get about 10min of numbness before the pain hits. Looked at the wrong finger, thought about two days travel to the emergency room, and used those minutes to relocate it. Then went on fishing, the best analgesic I know.
Nice quiet paddle early 8am off W Pike to portage, met several trips there. Chatted with some of the guided trip, one guide watched me moving with a pack over the portage and said you must be a trail runner. His guided folks told me he's an endurance maniac, 2 Everests and Guinness record for fastest round of highest mountain in each USA state. It was a long paddle through Clearwater but the weather (euphemism for the four-letter W word) stayed mild so it was enjoyable.
