How a European bike expedition became a Boundary Waters canoe adventure

The plan began as a bike trip to Europe.

This, my wife proclaimed, is how we should mark our first wedding anniversary. Not a quiet weekend to ourselves, not a quick romantic getaway, but a full-fledged, fly-across-the-Atlantic, bring-a-tent-and-make-it-up-as-we-go bike expedition.

I suppose this was her version of payback for our honeymoon. So many newlyweds escape to far-flung destinations after their nuptials. Mexico, the Caribbean, Hawaii, Europe, Australia. Stay in the same state for your honeymoon? Out of the question! My take is different: Why put yourself under the pressure of trying to see a new place while you're spending those first few days together?

Jenni wasn't convinced, at first, but eventually came around to my choice of destination. We returned to the familiar (and spectacular) shores of Lake Superior and cozied up for a delightful week at Bluefin Bay Resort in Tofte, Minnesota. The sparkle of the morning sun on the lake, the crash of the waves on shore, the piney scent of the forest along the Superior Hiking Trail were familiar to my soul. Now I wanted to experience them with my soul mate.

In fairness, our honeymoon was not without adventure. We hiked to waterfalls. We sailed on Gitchee Gumee under fair skies, and motored up the coast in near gale-force winds. We stood just out of reach of the crashing waves in the middle of a stormy night. But within Jenni burns a wanderlust, a craving for expeditions with new scenery. Already she'd biked across the United States from coast to coast, rollerskiied across Minnesota, canoed the Boundary Waters and rivers in Wisconsin and Arkansas, kayaked the Apostle Islands, skied the American Birkebeiner 53-kilometer ski race, and traveled to Russia to spend two weeks working at a summer camp.

Me? A long weekend at the cabin is perfect, thank you very much.

Thus, settling into married life last fall, Jenni proclaimed that we would mark our first anniversary by biking in Europe.

"Sure," I replied, "sounds exciting if you plan it!" My thoughts were somewhat different: OK...but how are we going to pull that off? How will we get bikes over there? Where will we camp? How will we get to and from the airport? It was a subject of conversation on and off in the weeks that followed.

Then one day, out of the blue, Jenni proposed a new idea: "Wouldn't it be awesome to canoe from your cabin to mine?"

Holy crap, that would be awesome. And everyone I encounter will speak English.

My family's cabin is at the edge of the eastern Boundary Waters Canoe Area in far northeastern Minnesota. We've been going there since my grandfather purchased it in the early 1950s. Jenni's cabin - just bought by her family a couple of years ago - is south of Ely. Would a canoe route between the two actually be possible?

I pored over maps, and a route emerged. It wasn't quite from my "home" lake, but traced its way from nearby Poplar Lake, across many more, along dozens of portages, down two rivers, and up a third until, 80 or so miles later, it arrived at Bear Island Lake.

Canoeing from the Gunflint Trail to Ely seemed more feasible than packing up ourselves and boxing our bikes and jetting across the pond. And it smacked of mystique and originality. Sure, we all know people who have biked in Europe. But who do you know who has canoed from the Gunflint Trail to Ely?

"Gunflint to Ely canoe" had a nice ring to it.

The more we discussed it, the more inevitable the trip seemed. In March, we bought McKenzie maps - six in all. When we spread them across the living room floor, the resulting string of lakes and portages was nearly wider than the room itself. I felt I needed to stand on a chair to get a better look. Staring at the maps, the hugeness of our goal was apparent. "How are we going to do this?" I asked, mouth agape. Jenni, too, was surprised. But she was also confident: "We should be able to do it in eight days, if not seven or six."

The ice has just gone out of the Boundary Waters lakes, but I'm already getting set for the trip. I've studied the maps, trying to memorize every detail. I've researched lakes and talked with friends who have paddled them, in an effort to absorb every tidbit about tough portages, good campsites, paddling strategies.

Until now, the longest canoe trip I've taken was three days. Jenni has more canoe days and paddled miles under her belt, but this trip is still sure to challenge both of us. Our plan is to pack light, travel at a good pace, and complete the distance in about a week.

As we continue our preparations, we hope you'll come along for the ride here on our blog and at our homepage, GunflintToElyCanoe.com.

We launch September 6.