We survived

Eight days.
Rain.
About 8,300 rods* of hiking and hauling gear.
Rain.
More rock scrapes on the canoe than we'd care to admit.
Rain.
Too many dam beaver dams.
Rain.
The stink of mouldering socks and hiking boots.
Rain.
A few precious moments of blue skies, sun, and Boundary Waters beauty.
Thunder, lighting, and rain.
Hitching a ride from a guy who had a gun in the front seat of his pickup.
And rain.

[*Because 1 rod equals 16 feet, we portaged - and hiked back to the start and hauled more gear and the canoe across on a second round - more than 25 miles. No kidding. Small wonder my ankle feels like it's been trampled by a moose.]

We made it. We're home. You heard it here first.

And we have stories to tell. Check GunflintToEly.com for updates. We'll be posting the story of our adventure, day by day, in the coming weeks.

As always, we will keep you abrest of our updates via the blog. Stay tuned!

Packing up and heading out

After more than 100 days of anticipation, it's expedition time!

I'd planned to update the blog more frequently this week, but as usual life got in the way. Run errands and go shopping, clean house, go back to the store because I didn't get enough stove fuel the first time, pay bills, get haircut, and pack in fits and starts throughout the week. A week of vacation is better than a long weekend, but it's harder to prepare for it. You have to make the house - and the pet fish and parakeets - ready for you to not be around for seven or eight days. Complications inevitably ensue, but that's par for the course.

We finished packing yesterday. Or mostly finished. What baffles me is that we've been packing, in one form or another, since Sunday. To make matters worse, Jenni's had the obligatory pre-vacation hell week at work, where everything's needed to be done now and the inbox fills twice as fast as she can empty it. But we finally hit it hard last night and now are, more or less, packed. Our tent, sleeping bags, equipment, clothes, sleeping mats, and food are all sheathed in garbage bags - keeps stuff dry, dontcha know - and stuffed into three Duluth Packs.

No packing could be complete without the inevitable argument or two, and Jenni's incredulous expression: "You're taking what?" Yes, I'm bringing a weather radio; it might be nice to know if there's a severe thunderstorm bearing down on us. Yes, I'm lugging along my big tripod, because it's essential to getting good photos. No, you won't have to carry either. Stop worrying.

Jenni rolled her eyes at both: "So unnecessary." Yeah - in her world.

This will probably get me into a lot of trouble in years to come, but the wife is not always right. There, I said it. Ninety-nine percent of the time? Absolutely, without a doubt. But I reserve that other 1 percent for situations just like this.

Besides, how would we get a picture of ourselves, together, on our anniversary, without the tripod?

Exactly. I'm glad you understand.

I posted in the BWCA.com Trip-Planning Forum a couple of days ago to see if the regulars there had any advice for the trip. Sounds like we're in for a beautiful journey from what they've said. We were cautioned about the Frost River - not to be attempted at low water levels. (The question du jour is, everbody now, "How low are they?") And if attempted, it will take all day. Start early.

That was our plan. Good to know we're on the same wavelength as the veterans.

Forum member highplainsdrifter also gave us some good advice regarding campsites and portages. Notably:

The little string of lakes south of Little Sag are pretty (but time consuming with portages). For heaven's sake, don't screw up on the portage out of Panhandle into Pan. We did and others have, too. The real portage trail is not in the cove where the drainage is. Look to the right and you will see a well-maintained trail.

He is referring to this. You can read all about that little misadventure here; scroll down to "Part 14 of 16":

We eventually noticed a clearing to our right, and looked at it dumbfounded.
Nate: "What the hell is that?"
Joe: "Uhh, that looks like a portage trail."
Matt: "What the hell is it doing over there?"

Note to self: Remember to look to the right of the cove. Thanks, highplainsdrifter!

Also, great news: Earlier this week, the Forest Service lifted the fire ban on the blowdown zone! So we'll be able to enjoy a campfire every day, and cook our hot dogs on Banadad Lake tomorrow night.

So, that's it. Jenni will be home soon with the canoe. Tomorrow we're off to Grand Marais for a stop at the USFS ranger station to pick up our permits and be re-educated by the proper BWCA camping techniques video. Then it's off to the Trail Center for hamburgers, and finally, to the waters of Poplar Lake, where the journey begins...

Down to the final week

Can't believe we have just four days to go! The summer has really gone fast.

Jenni and I decided we had to do something fun and adventurous for the holiday weekend. Might as well work in one more chance to get our paddling arms in shape, I surmised, so I planned our excursion...a half-day kayaking on the St. Croix River upstream from Stillwater. We paddled along heavily wooded banks, tree-topped cliffs, and ducked behind islands to avoid the powerboat traffic. Several miles upriver, we landed at a beach for lunch in the shadow of this:

The Soo Line High Bridge is a fantastic but little-known landmark. It's a 100-year old railroad bridge that spans the entire St. Croix River Valley in five graceful arches. Towering 184 feet above the water and spanning nearly 2,700 feet, it's every bit as big as it looks, and it still carries train traffic. Stand underneath, look up, and you get dizzy.

The bridge has obviously been a popular spot for a while because, etched into the cliff below the bridge, we saw that Jack, Jean, and Florence had been here in 1931.


After lunch, we headed back downstream to the public access - into a headwind, of course. But all in all, it was an awesome day on the river.

After we got home, we started packing. First, we set up our tent. It's a Kelty tent, a wedding gift from Jenni's parents.

And it has Storm Trooper-ish vestibules to keep our shoes and gear dry! (That's Lily, the doggie we are fostering, coming toward me.)

I've never had a tent with vestibules, so I can't wait to try it out.

Then we tested our stoves, and started dragging camping gear out of the closets and garage.

We were in better shape Sunday. After Jenni finished fine-tuning our menu, we went grocery shopping. Then we pulled our food out of its packaging and double-bagged it in plastic bags, for maximum spillage protection and minimum weight and bulkiness.

I discovered that being the menu-coordinator's helper in the kitchen meant sampling leftover snacks. M&M's, peanuts, chocolate-covered raisins. Sign me up for that job again!

Last night, Jenni combined our respective first aid kits into one super first-aid kit and folded and bagged our maps. The living room is awash in gear and Duluth packs. Now, we only have to tie up a few loose ends, pack our clothes, and fill the Duluth packs.

I just checked the Canoe Country forecast and the 10-day outlook says we can look forward to a mix of sun and rain, with highs in the 50s and 60s and lows in the 40s and even the 30s! Good early fall weather.

Look for more updates later this week.