The
North Country cannot be fully experienced until it is witnessed
in the wee hours of the morning. It is during this time that its
true serenity and beauty, and all the other things that it has
to offer present itself.
Working as a wilderness guide in
the area for an entire summer demands a great deal of
originality and spontaneity, in order to refrain from dulling
the mind into submission of a systematic routine. To change
routes, campsites and entry points sometimes cannot cure this
trance, so this is where the idea of a night paddle becomes
apart of the itinerary.
The first time I decided to
try a paddle at night, I decided to bring it up with a
rambunctious group of boys going on a 6 day trip. At first they
didn’t really listen, as most of their attention was preoccupied
with the 14 year old girls that they were flirting with around
them. I waited until later when their attention was more on the
trip and brought up the idea again. They all responded
cheerfully exclaiming they were up for whatever, I then took out
the maps and begin to decide what lake we would traverse in
total darkness. I decided our best option was to choose a long
lake that was easily navigable, and one I was somewhat familiar
of. A lake such as Sagnaga which is near 20 miles in length
would be great if it weren’t for the many unmarked islands and
numerous bays. I chose Gunflint Lake as to be our best option
due to its length, and my familiarity with its shores.
After a late start out of
Sagnaga and a full day of the granite river and its many
portages, we were disappointed to find campsites on our target
lake, Clove, to be all taken up, so we pushed on and found a
campsite after Pine Portage luckily. We ate our dinner of
quesadillas and climbed into our tent at 10:00 pm. I set my
watch and went to sleep contemplating what would be ahead in the
morning.
The alarm sounded and I awoke
somewhat rested. I rattled the boys and they responded with
grunts and groans of their tiredness and exhaustion. We got
packed up quite efficiently much to my surprise, and shoved off
in our canoes at 1:30 am.
The
moon and stars distributed a tremendous amount of light that
evening, due almost entirely to the fact the moon was a touch
more than half crescent. After studying the map I noticed two
portages marked between ourselves and Gunflint Lake. One of the
other guides from camp warned me saying the portages were a bit
tricky to say the least, and we should be very careful. The
first spot there was suppose to be a portage I couldn’t find it
due to the lack of light at 1:40 in the morning, so we opted to
pulling the canoes up the fast moving water instead. We climbed
into our canoes again, and after a little ways I pointed out
some constellations and also how still and silent it was to the
boys, they were excited and inquisitive the whole time. One the
boy, who was from Colorado, had never seen a shooting star
before, so I told him to keep his eyes open and sure enough he
would see one.
We paddled a ways and finally
came to a falls that had to be portaged. I looked on the map and
it showed a portage to the right, so I got out and searched
valiantly for it and found something that appeared to be a
trail. I took my canoe through it first, with one of the boys
behind me with a Duluth pack. With a mag light in my mouth, I
finally fought my way through the woods to a place above the
falls adequate enough to launch our canoes. I slide my canoe in
the calm pool and had the boy place his pack into the canoe, and
hold it while I went back for the others. As I was walking back
I begin to come to the realization that I rather not risk one of
the boys twisting his ankle carrying the other canoe across the
portage or dropping our wood canvas canoe, so I opted to carry
the other canoe as well.
Now
all were across the portage so we loaded into our canoes and
shoved off. As we glided over the water into the greater expanse
of the bay, it became evident to myself as well as the boys of
how frigid it can become in the early mornings in the canoe
country. I kept the boys moving and had them dig out their
raingear to facilitate some extra warmth. Due to some poor
decisions that we had made some of the boys had worn pants
during our river forging and now were left wet and shivering in
their sodden clothing. Even I felt the bite of the August air
and wondered why I had not had everyone be more prepared for it.
Now onto one of the larger
bays on Gunflint Lake, we are passing by the island with the
three ginger bread houses it, and are gliding silently and
effortlessly by towards the channel that brings us onto the main
expanse of the lake. I had everyone stop once we got onto the
lake so that we could just float along and experience the
calmness, and beauty that was before us. After a moment which
seemed to me could have lasted much longer we then dipped our
paddles in unison and pressed on. Through the channel now out on
the lake, the duffer in my canoe started to complain of being
cold, so I had the other canoe come over and gunnel up so that
he could switch out and paddle and get moving again. I was
starting to worry a bit but after five minutes of paddling he
was in full spirits again.
After many breaks to switch
out the duffer, and also to gaze upon gunflint lodge’s lights
along their dock, we began to see some light penetrating the sky
to the northeast. It was four in the morning and our bones were
chilled and our muscles were tired from the previous days
paddle, but that soon becomes unnoticeable compared to what is
about to take place.
As our paddles wave and dip in
unison, the sun seems to move at a staggered pace etching it
self closer and closer to breaking free of the horizon. We are
moving stealth like and effortlessly across the glasslike
surface of this great lake. I look down to my right and see the
ripples from my paddle shake the reflection of the moon and what
was left of the stars in the sky. These are the instances that I
become truly grateful to have the opportunity to be in this
place, and to experience a place so one of a kind and pristine.
Now half way down the lake
with the far eastern end in view, I can see fog resting in the
bays in valleys and cannot help but to smile due to how
picturesque it is at that moment.
Now
the Sun’s rays are starting to show some of the silhouettes of a
few of the clouds that are across the sky. A few cumulous clouds
backed up by lines of stratus clouds depict a beautiful scene
before us.
The stars have now totally
disappeared and I sit in the stern of the canoe watching the
many pigments and colors grow wildly across the sky. We watch as
the iridescent glow of the sun and its warmth climb slowly and
steadily from behind the eastern shore. The fog begins to swirl
and float as the sun’s rays start to invade on its sanctuary; it
is truly a sight to see. The boys in the other canoe are now
ahead of us by 100 yards, and seem to have positioned themselves
much in a way an artist would have painted them. Both paddles
resting across the gunnels of the canoe, and positioned so that
the sun presented itself exactly in the center. Truly a picture
that would make a person want to come and experience this
beautiful place as well.
The orange circle now seeming
to be moving much faster than before, is declaring itself as
being one of god’s most amazing creations. A full spectrum of
oranges, reds, and yellows are now taking over the eastern sky.
The clouds are filtering out much of the strength of the sun,
but still remains to let some much welcomed warmth through.
Now fully above the horizon
and making its way behind the sporadic placement of the clouds,
I ask the boys if they have ever seen a sunrise before, which
all but one replied no. I think to myself a moment and let my
surroundings sink in, and decide that very few people have in
fact taken the time to search out a sight as beautiful and as
one of a kind as this. The lake, its bays and islands, the
canoes caressing the water as it glides through the fog, the
loons excited calls echoing throughout the many valleys and of
the many cliffs. It truly is something that you have to seek out
at some point in a person’s life, to truly put into perspective
what really is important and real in this world.
I know now that these boys are
looking around and taking this and putting it away somewhere
deep inside their heads of how extremely influential it is in
teaching them of what a true reverence for the wilderness is.
How from this moment on they will posses an experience which
sets them apart from many of their friends, family or
acquaintances they have back home in the twin cities. Trying to
explain this true showing of nature in words won’t come easily,
and will never be as impactful as actually being there to
experience it first hand.
The
sun has now broken free of the clouds grasp and beats down on us
happily and full of vigor. Now I set my eyes on the map to find
us a place to rest our tired and cold bodies. Much to our luck
an island that was 300 yards away has a campsite to which seemed
very ideal. We paddled over and didn’t find a forest service
grate, which is the infamous marker for a legal campsite in the
boundary waters. I decided the boys were much too cold and weary
to find another, so we unloaded and quickly got our dry cloths
out and slide into our sleeping bags. Now it is five in the
morning, and my plan was to just sleep for part of the morning
and then get up around noon and press on to our campsite for the
night. I can hear the boys around me shivering and decide to get
up and make sure they are all doing ok, and decide to brew some
tea and hot cocoa for them. They responded cheerfully and are
happy to be there in their sleeping bags warming back up.
After the tea and cocoa was
dispersed I climbed back into my bag and fell asleep rather
quickly, and got there feeling very glad and thankful for the
morning’s adventure and beauty. |