Retreat! We Bailed from the Canoe Trip

Last weekend, it looked like the last chance to do a canoe trip before freeze up. It was going to be one of those rare early season snow storms while the lakes are still open. You know the type — they coat the trees with white, and if it is calm, it’s magical, especially if a blue sky shows up in the morning. We decided to do two nights in the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness. This would be our five-year-old’s first winteresque camping trip. It looked like the coldest it would get would be in the lower 20s, so it would be cold enough to feel like a winter trip but with the lakes still above freezing we didn’t expect to encounter any significant ice buildup.

We packed the portage packs full of zero degree sleeping bags, warm sleeping pads, a mountaineering tent (from days long past) and lots and lots of warm clothing. The goal was to camp for two nights and visit Johnson Falls on a day trip. Johnson Falls consists of two drops both held in shallow canyons surrounded by mature white cedar. The water level in the fall is usually the level that makes the water silky and stringy like a bridal veil. We had actually paddled past Johnson Falls earlier in the year but didn’t stop, so it just felt like something we needed to get done before the year was over.

Starting on East Bearskin on Friday, we quickly paddled and portaged into Alder where we would camp for the night. Looking at the map, Alder looks like a small letter “h” turned on it’s side with the longest line northern most. Having extra time, and, unlike summer, we had no worries of having to share the lake with anyone, we first paddled past several campsites on the north shore that looked like dark holes in the forest.

Then we curved down the small part of the letter and checked out a site on the “h”‘s hump. It had a nice view towards sunrise, but no level spots for our oversized 2+ person mountaineering tent. There was a site on a point on the south eastern shore, but the 5 to 10mph wind was blowing from the northwest, and it didn’t seem like it would be protected, so we skipped paddling to it. Instead, we turned back to the northern shore and found a site just east of several small islands. The islands provided protection from the wind.

The campsite was unique. A set of rock stairs lead ten feet up to a level and open site. The fire grate, a feature of every BWCAW campsite, was so built up it looked like a wood stove.

We quickly set up the tent and got camp made. Afterwards, I waded across calf deep water to the islands and wandered around scaring up a moose in the alders, and then finding an abandoned bushcraft shelter (please, don’t make these in the BWCAW). On the western side of the island, I watched the clouds break and close and cast its light across a small island covered with just a few windswept evergreens.

Back at camp, we made dinner and went to bed early to play some games in the warm tent.

At sunrise, I watched the sky change from mostly clear to nearly completely cloudy, and the lake change from calm with reflections to ripples. Just as the sun was coming up, it cast a pink glow across the bottom of the clouds. As the cliché says, “Red sky in the morning, sailor’s warning.” Except that we knew from the weather forecast that we could expect 2 to 6 inches of snow throughout the day and night.

With an early start, we loaded our day gear into a pack and paddled about a half a mile to the portage into Canoe Lake. Another half mile and we were at the portage to Pine Lake. The portage is about one mile long and climbs up and down three separate ridges, and across several bogs before it descends to Pine Lake. Our kid was a champ and tackled the trip over with ease. By the time we got to the other side, it was snowing, and he was playing in the snow.

From Pine Lake, it’s about another half mile or so to the waterfall. We got there just in time for lunch. After lunch, my wife and kid decided to head straight back and I’d stay and photograph the waterfalls and then meet up with them. By the time I finished with the upper falls there was about an inch of snow on the ground. Pushing through the trees soaked my pants and my rain shell was in the pack with my wife.

I pushed through with damp pants because there was nothing else I could do. When I caught them we were about halfway across the portage. I noticed that my kid’s pants were also soaked, and his jacket’s outside, a new puffy jacket that claimed to be highly water resistant looked damp. We pushed on to the canoe, now covered with a dusting of snow and paddled back to the campsite in near whiteout conditions.

Once there, we got my kid out of his wet clothing and noticed that his insulated snow pants were nearly soaked through and that he had sweated enough that his sweatshirt was damp. The puffy, although damp on the outside, was fine. I’ve been in worse conditions than this, and we had extra clothing and were just a few hours from the car, so staying the night wouldn’t have been a big concern, but then again if we were onto our second set of clothing maybe it was time to bail. By that time, our kid was in his sleeping bag and didn’t want to leave. He just wanted to stay and play games.

With much regret, we decided to retreat. We quickly packed up camp and loaded the canoe. While we were never in any danger, it just seemed like the safest thing to do because we had the option. The paddle out was beautiful with trees coated in several inches of snow. We reached the car just after sunset, and drove home.

Apparently, someone was rescued from near Ely on the same night.