On Canoeing & Camping

It was the summer of 1985 and I cashed in on a great idea. I learned that there was a popular canoe/camping destination that you could sign up for that only cost $95 a week per person if you were part of a youth organization at your church. My wife and I had some friends and family that all more or less belonged to the same church, hey, I even worked there at the time. We were a youth organization, right? It was settled. A tribe of six young adults set out for an amazing camping trip to Babbitt, Minnesota.

Brothers Dave & Tommy, Charlie, Charlie, my wife, Carrie & I packed up and headed out for what would become a legendary camping adventure. We drove up to Minneapolis, north to Duluth on route 53 and then east to Babbitt. Upon arriving, Dave found the photos of bears tearing apart camping gear pretty funny while we waited for the outfitter to swipe a credit card for our new journey. “Dave, there really are bears up here” I declared. His expression showed that he was already in for way more than he expected. It’s true and you will see shortly, that we were definitely NOT prepared for this escapade.

We bedded down for the night (guys in one cabin, girls in another, sorry Carrie) and the next morning rose at sunrise to begin our week-long canoe trip. It was a long bus ride to our launch site. We unloaded our gear and waited for the canoes to be handed out. The outfitter provided tents, sleeping bags, a week’s worth of food, life jackets, paddles & canoes. I was given a local map showing the suggested route for the week. I opened it and seen the Boundary Waters and the majestic forest that lay before us, but I did not see the portages. Our goal was to canoe all week and return to this exact location by next Saturday. “Good luck!” said the outfitter guy and they were gone. It was go-time. With Canoes loaded, we pushed off and began our journey.

The morning sun warmed us as three canoes left the bay and glided northerly along Birch Lake. Dave & Tommy had a canoe, Carrie & I had ours, and the two Charlie’s were in the third. I looked around as I swept my paddle through the water. With a smile on everyone’s face, I felt I had done something good for friends and family. We had two hours of paddling behind in our wake when we approached the leeward side of a small bay. I paused and pulled the map out. The lake had ended. According to the map we were right in front of a portage. I didn’t know what a portage was at that time, but the map said we have to cross land and drop canoes on the other side. This was news to our canoeing party. They complained at the effort before them. I said, “The map says it’s like only 200 feet. We’re fine” Unfortunately the 200 feet was straight up a tall hill and back down. We lifted ourselves out of the canoes and then lifted the canoes. Traversing the trail was difficult. It took two trips before we had all our gear on the far side of the portage, but we did it and were back in the water again. I heard some complaining from the Charlie canoe and hoped this was a one time thing. Nope. By noon we had climbed four more portages. The Charlies were not happy.

By late afternoon, we had managed to make some real progress on the map. We passed by a beautiful country filled with wild Birch, White Cedar, and Spruce trees. Everyone decided that we should stop and set up camp for the night. So we did. Tents went up, firewood was gathered, and food preparation was started. We all laughed and chatted about the day’s events as we sat around a roaring campfire, bellies full from our first meal on the trip. I had removed a packet from the food sack to make some Kool-Aid drinks. I wandered down to the shoreline and filled a container with lake water, emptied the packet into it and gave it a good shake as I returned to the campsite. We enjoyed our drinks until we realized they were full of bugs. Yech! As night fell, we realized we had to prepare for it. The outfitters had instructed us on how to store our food. “Find two trees, fifteen feet apart and tie your food up between them. It needs to be ten feet high in the air” I remembered the man at the outfitting store insisted on this. Dave seemed to be a little troubled about this whole bear business. We selected our two trees on the edge of the campsite, but how to get the rope up there? We decided to tie it around a rock and throw it through a fork in the tree. On our 17th attempt we finally scored. The food was up. My brother Charlie walked over and touched the bag. It was only six feet off the ground. We had to make another go at it after all. Finally we were gathered around the campfire again. An hour later someone asked for a snack and we realized we left no food out, so no snacks tonight.

It rained. It rained all night. We had two tents. Dave shared a tent with Carrie and I and Tommy was in the other one with the two Charlies. I woke in the morning to the smell of camping and a bright sun. I had a fabulous night of sleeping. I turned to my wife and she was awake and feeling great from good sleep too. We turned to Dave. The other side of the tent had lost an outside pole and a huge belly of rain water lay on the roof of the tent on Dave’s stomach. He was soaked from head to toe. He did not sleep well.

We brought down the food sack and Carrie made breakfast. We broke camp, loaded up and with paddle in the water, pushed off to start day two of our adventure. I could feel a day’s worth of paddling deep in my shoulder muscles and found it a little more difficult to pull forward, but I didn’t complain. After an hour or two (with no portages) a storm started brewing in front of us. It looked serious. And here’s the thing about storms and rivers. Rivers have a natural way of magnifying the sound of thunder. It rolls toward you. As this storm rolled its way toward us we moved inland and pulled our canoes. We hid underneath a blanket of trees while this storm passed. It was only twenty minutes but I don’t ever remember seeing such violence in weather like this. It was frightening.

We grabbed the Grab-Loops of our canoes and pulled them back in. We got another three hours of paddling in before evening approached. We docked, set up camp again and prepared our dinner. This campsite was on a very small island in the middle of Birch Lake, which now seemed more like a large river. Relaxing after a small dinner, we were alerted to canoeing passersby. “Hey! Do you know if there are any more campsites up stream?” No we didn’t. “By the way, we seen a bear swim up and go into your island. Just wanted you to know. Good luck!” Dave was not happy. That night while I lay awake in the tent, I heard the bear come into our site. I froze. The bear sniffed and sniffed but finally left. I didn’t say anything to my mates for fear of, well… fear.

Day three, we all climbed into our canoes with our aching muscles and pushed the bows into Birch River water. We got a whole day of canoeing in when we decided to set up camp again. This time we made Kool-Aid from water away from shore. It seemed to be cleaner. Carrie and the two Charlies had taken a canoe out in the center of the lake. I remember watching them from the campsite with Dave. We noticed they were waving their hands fiercely above their heads. I commented that I thought the mosquitos must be bad at dusk out there, only later to find out in fact they were bats. More complaining from my crew. I was beginning to feel bad.

Day four, We canoed with burning muscles and completed the north end of our journey with a gentle waterfall before us. It looked inviting so we ran our aluminum canoes onto a soft sandy shore. We stepped out and walked over to the waterfall. It was not a fast falling waterfall, but rather more of a small waterfall pouring into a gentle stream that rushed tenderly over soft river rocks. I couldn’t help it. I sat down in it. It felt wonderful. One by one, the group all joined me. The water temperature was perfect. I relaxed my aching bones and lay back. Like a massage, I was reduced to a sleepy dream state. I rolled over on my belly. As I looked around, I noticed everyone was enjoying this moment in nature. A moment where you can truly understand why life on this Earth is such a gift. I opened my mouth and accepted some river water. It tasted great. I could stay her foreve… “AHHHHHH!” It was Carrie. She was screaming. She was standing up in the stream and screaming! All over her from shoulder to foot were black leeches. She was mad as a hatter! My husbandly instincts kicked in and I scooped her up and to shore. We started knocking the black little fellas off her. I turned back to see the rest of my team attending to their gatherings of leeches. I know I had my share. I removed all of the leeches from Carrie thinking she would feel better. But she was still scared. “I need to check EVERYWHERE” she said to me. Oh, I guess you do. Being a man, I didn’t realize some of the nightmarish fears woman can grow up with, but I knew this was one of them. So we went further into the forest for privacy and she undressed and scanned for more leeches. Thank goodness none were found. But then my cousin Charlie approached and received a severe dose of Carrie’s scorn for catching her in the nude. To this day, that moment is the first she unpacks when we talk about this trip. Later, I wondered if I had swallowed any leeches.

We collected ourselves and boarded our trusty canoes once again. We stopped early this day and set up for the evening. While dinner was being prepared, Tommy, Dave and I spotted a small prop plane heading our way over the lake (the river looked more like a lake again) and waved at it. It was the first sign of civilization we had seen in days. To our utter surprise, it changed course, veered to the left, descended and landed in the water by our campsite. Worried for the well-being of fellow campers, it assumed we were attempting some form of a distress signal. The pilot was not happy leaving us after we admitted all we were doing was saying hi.

Day five. No one is talking to me now except for my wife. Both Charlies are refusing to paddle anymore. Tommy misses his girlfriend and Dave, well, Dave has been wet since the morning he woke up with the tent on his belly. His clothes got soaked that morning and had never really dried all week. He stormed out of the camp this morning while Carrie and I were making breakfast. I kept a watchful eye on him while I made some eggs. Carrie perked up, “I found coffee in the food sack!  Who wants coffee?” We all do! Make it! Yes, maybe a little sunshine for this angry crew. Dave had picked up a stick and was using it as a cane. Carrie made the coffee. The smell of coffee at a campsite is the best. Dave, with his stick, found a log and had decided to scale across it. Coffee was done and my wife was pouring cups with a big smile. She was going to help her husband out of a bad situation that was getting worse by the day. I turned back to see Dave with the stick on the log. Suddenly, he slipped and fell into the lake. Soaked to the bone, again. He threw the stick and stomped off. He disappeared for quite some time, only to return for a warm cup of coffee. Unfortunately, the coffee was ruined. By no fault of Carrie’s, the grounds had seeped through the maker and turned it into wet dark sand.

Day six. Nobody likes me anymore. My wife has admitted that this should have been a guys trip and wondered why I wanted her there. The Charlies were verbally speaking their mind to my face. Tommy was yearning for his girl and Dave was wet and pissed.

Day seven. We are going home! This information at least made everyone civil. We knew how to canoe now like the ancient Ojibway Indians of Northern Minnesota. The Boundary Waters had beaten us up pretty good, but we had one more day to set the record straight. Food was no longer a treat. We had failed to follow the suggested menu and eaten all of the protein in the first three days. We were vegetarians now. But we had learned the best way to traverse portages and canoe the waters. We were Indians. With swift paddles climbing high in the sky and cutting Birch Lake water behind us, we were making great progress. Suddenly another one of those storms started rolling, rolling, rolling towards us. “Screw it! Let’s keep going!” So we did. The storm arrived with torrential downpours and tempest winds, lightning & deafening thunder. And us, we held onto our paddles. We were Indians now. No fear. No choice. We must proceed! We screamed at the top of our lungs as we faced the sky and rain! God it was glorious!

It was over. We were back in civilization. We were in dry clothes and parking our car at the first fast food place we could find. We had all lost five to ten pounds from our adventure and food was on everyone’s mind. No one was talking. Orders were placed and food trays from McDonald’s were set down on two tables. I had to laugh to myself. We did it. We faced everything together and came out okay, heck maybe even better. I felt great. A little playful thought came into my mind. I reached over to snatch a French fry off of Dave’s plate. He looked up at me without saying anything and growled.

Maybe I will give everyone a little more time.

---

To get email notifications when I publish new stories, just enter your email address below and click “Subscribe”. It’s that easy!

#hemphillsongcom
#michaelhemphillstories
#michaelhemphillsongs
#songwritersofinstagram
#songwritersoffacebook
#findmeonspotify