Quetico with the Boy Scouts
Tuesday, July 28, 2015 at 04:47PM Voyager upon life's sea,To yourself be true,
And whatever your lot may be,
Paddle your own canoe.
Sarah Bolton, 1851
Paul came back with second degree sunburn. I came back with bruised arms, a scrape on the knee the size of a silver dollar, punctures where a fishhook was embedded and then pushed through my pinkie, and about the sorest shoulder muscles one can imagine. Oh, and a toe that turned completely black.
We had a terrific time!
10 adults and 8 boys from Boy Scout Troop 91 in Prairie Village, Kansas, spend 6 days and 5 nights in the Quetico (Canadian) portion of the Boundary Waters earlier this month. The QUEbec TIimber COmpany park, along with the Minnesota Boundary Waters, comprises the largest wildlife area outside the Arctic Wildlife Refuge. I was worried about getting lost. Really. The Canadian portion of the Boundary Waters has no signage. No cell service. No markings of any kind. No presence of rangers. No running water. Well, no running water that passes through pipes anyway. Except for a few firepits made of gathered stone and some logs stacked to be benches, this was a primative wilderness area. You screw up, you will die. Seriously.
Outfitters Williams and Hall in Ely provided our food, cooking gear, tents, transportation to the Canadian border, and lots of sound advice. Each group of 6 canoists, blue, white, and pink, were given separate routes. Our group, pink, "ate its vegetables first" and did a tough first day. After 5 hours canoeing we encountered two portages known as "The Agonies." Each, only a few paddle strokes apart, was a half mile long, sharp-stoned, and varying in elevation. (Measured in rods on the map above.) The adults shouldered on each portage a 70 pound aluminum canoe and the boys humped 50-60 pound Duluth bags of camping gear and food. We always made two trips.
I did not hear one complaint from dads or kids.
This trip was my birthday present to my grandson Paul, now 14. His dad couldn't make it due to knee surgery earlier in the year. So Grandpa happily filled in. If the grandsons learn anything from me, it is that experiences, not things, are what make a person satisfied with one's life. It is the person with the best stories not the most money in the nursing home who is life's winner.
Besides the Agonies, Day One was all rain. When we finally got to the first campsite, the gas stove did not want to ignite (it got wet we finally figured out), so we ate cold rations and went to bed sort of damp. I was worried that the next 5 days might just be the longest days of my entire life. Day Two was dry but exhausting with 6 and 1/2 hours of paddling into the wind north on long Lake Agnes. Wednesday we stayed put, fishing, swimming, cooking hot meals, and relaxing. It almost felt like a vacation. Thursday we portaged nine times and kept finding our planned campsites full, so we kept paddling, finally stopping about 4PM, very tired. But that made for short, pleasant days on Friday and Saturday.
The area was gorgeous. Just as pristine as the Voyaguers must have found it in the 17th century. Bald eagles and loons were our welcoming committees at each campsite. The waters were crystal clear and just cold enough to be refreshing without being chilling. We experienced no bears, no lightening, and relatively few mosquitoes. Now and then, I would say to Paul, "Stop paddling and look around. Soak this in. Such beauty."
I have to admit portaging a canoe on one's shoulders was not a lot of fun. Portages were not difficult because of length as much as because of steepness, narrowness, and roughness of path. Erosion has not worn these hard stones of their sharp edges and I wore only aqua socks, rather than boots. Getting the canoe on the shoulders was not a problem for Scout leader Tom who could probably have carried a canoe under one arm and a Boy Scout under the other, but Grandpa did not have the strength to simply lift the canoe over his head and place it gently on his shoulders. A more awkward technique was involved. (However 63-year-old grandpa did pretty good compared to some 40-something-year-old dads.)
Mud was another issue. One portage on Thursday, seen in the video clip above, we nicknamed "The Big Mudder." I lost my footing twice, dropping and having to re-shoulder the canoe each time, one time stepping in a mud hole nealy up to my waist. The boys, much shorter than I, experienced the same portage with huge packs. Amazing!
While some in our group were more dedicated about fishing, all of us, boys and adults, caught at least one fish. Thanks to Peter's skill, we dined on fresh walleye one evening.
The outfitters sent both fresh food, including steaks, and freeze-dried meals. Cooking was a bit of a challenge with small pans and only a double burner gas stove (which we did get working eventually). Washing dishes was also interesting since no food could be thrown out on either the ground or in the water, needing to be burned or packed out. Probably a good thing we were all hungry most nights. (Next time I am bringing my own small stove just to heat coffee water.)
As the crow flies, we probably traveled less than 20 miles. As the amatuer canoeist paddles, we must have doubled that distance, zig-zagging across lake and stream. Again, Paul did a great job, never tiring, never complaining. Unlike Grandpa. Next time I watch a few YouTube videos before I go, refreshing my own Boy Scout training on the J-stroke and other canoeing techniques. It's only been half a century since I was in Scout camp.
Each morning and each evening, we were treated to a beautiful sky. Loons called. The breeze drove off any mosquitoes. We were a companionable group. Three boys in a tent laughing late at night is music no orchestra can make.
I had anticipated that Paul and I might have long conversations during the trip on issues of import. But we didn't, really. I hope if Paul takes any lesson it is that experience does not come without some effort and hardship. That the greater the hardship, the better the story. That one can bear things without complaint and with a positive spirit. That nature is beautiful and as involving as any video game. That it pays to take care of one's body enough to be able to portage a canoe over a long muddy trek, just to be in the company of a beloved grandson. That one teaches better by example than by words.
Thank you, Paul, and thank you Boy Scout leaders for this opportunity. Hope everyone got a few stories to tell in the nursing home.
Reader Comments (5)
What a great experience!
Happy birthday Doug! I am inspired by your experiences!
Hi Len and Debra,
Thanks for the notes. Hope you are having a great summer yourselves.
Doug
Thanks for sharing this cool story. I got to spend a very short time with my son at Scout camp this last week, and it was SO GREAT to see how those boys are in the wild (so to speak). I'm so glad I got to go, and so VERY grateful to my son's leaders and the staff at camp. Happy summer. :)
Hi Christie,
Scouts provides a great way to balance out all that time kids spend in front of screens! I subscribe wholly to the "Last Child in the Woods" theory that all kids need to interact with nature. And the Scout leaders with whom I have interacted have been great people. I plan to participate in an overnight camping trip with the boys again this November near Kansas City.
Appreciate the note,
Doug