Thursday September 22, 2022
Welcome to fall. It was considerably cooler than previous nights. We were moving slowly, watching the skies and the wind. We talked about the sun rising on this equinox day being in the due east and then setting in the due west. We will be in a new campsite tonight and if the sun doesn’t set behind a tree, we’ll watch the due west setting sun.
Every evening about 30 minutes after sunset, the first light in the sky has been Venus. It seemed to rise due east. The first night we spotted it, it was red. It shown red on the water. Imagine that, we say because we hadn’t remembered that it’s not just the moon that shines on the water. It’s only taken us 6 days to return to this form of innocence. This will disappear tomorrow when we drive toward Ely and hear the first ping on our phones indicating that we are again connected to the all-knowing of our phones.
By 10:30 AM the clouds had moved on, promising a clear fall day. The skies had the dour and leaden look of an autumn morning. It was chilly but seemed reassuring because this is the way fall should be. Seeming that the clouds held no rain, we paddled north for our last visit on Loon Lake. The cry of the loon echoed near and then we spotted it as it dove out-of-sight. Iconic. A small marker jutted from the top of giant boulder. This tiny white obelisk marks our entry into Canadian waters. It was time to return and break camp. We would head closer to our put-out tomorrow.
We started this run unsure of where the outlet for the Little Indian Sioux River was. It’s alway such a relief stumbling in the right direction. In this case it was discovering the slim path between the reeds that are growing too tightly to navigate. The beaver dam did not stymie us this time. We headed to the left side and Terry lugged our canoe up and over.
Devil’s Cascade portage 120 was waiting for us. This time there were no other paddlers portaging. But three guys with bright orange beanies and one carrying a gun were walking ahead. Two others startled me coming off a side trail. I gave my typical involuntary cry of surprise. They were very apologetic for frightening me. They disappeared down the trail. I assumed they boarded their canoes and were on their way. But shortly they were heading back. Their five bright orange beanies all in a row, lined up in front of me ready to talk. Once again apologizing. It turned out that the guys wanted to tell me what they were up to.
They were hiking the Sioux-Hustler Trail from their camp on Shell Lake, where they left their canoe. One of them said they were hiking about two miles an hour.
The “leader” in front said “No, that’d be more like a mile an hour.”
The guy replied, “Oh?”
I asked what they were hunting.
The leader said the guy in back had squirrels for breakfast and said they were tasty.
The guy in back said, “Yup. And I have a backpack full of red squirrels.”
I asked how he got the squirrels.
The guy in front said he shot them and added he had heard a spruce grouse.
I said, “You must watch watch Alone.”
But of course, what else would influence someone to eat these tiny squirrels and covet a grouse?
They turned out to be quirky and a funny group.
By 5:00 PM, we had landed on upper Pauness Lake for our last and very cold night.
Mountain Peace 