Solo paddle

June 26, 2025

When I bought my solo canoe, almost two years ago, my goal was to do solo overnights. With decent weather forecasted and not being needed with our home building, the time had come.

I made the decision the day before I put in to the water. Living in the small room in the garage everything was in various tubs. Many items in the “Deb’s Backpacking” tub were inside their little light zipper bags that have never been culled. Hence I ended up packing duplicates like the three toiletries bags all containing the same items. You can image how helpful that was when at the end of a hard paddling day you’re trying to find thing,

I had announced my paddling intention. Terry wrote down the directions I gave him for my route. I would paddle on four different bodies of water starting with Little Long Lake connected to Burntside Lake by the only portage of the trip. Next I’d paddle into the Dead River which flows from Burntside and into Twin Lakes. I had my eye on a Twin Lake campsite for a couple of years. Finally, I was going to make it.

I got up at five and thought I would be on my way about seven but all the gear was a mess. So I frantically got things together by walking in circles and asking “What am I doing? why don’t I have a checklist?” Finally I threw all the gear I had on the bed, into two backpacks deciding that I’d figure it out when I got to the campsite. Not my best thinking.

I made PB&Js and grabbed a small container of leftover mac&cheese from the fridge. Since I couldn’t find a canister of gas for our Jetboil, I couldn’t cook. It was only one night. What the heck? If I had to layover owing to storms, I would not starve. I could pretend l was a contestant on the survival show Alone for probably ten days.

My walking in circles and lack of a checklist could not be remedied. It was too late. I threw everything I had on the bed into the backpacks. Now I was pressed with a 10:30 start time. I asked Terry to watch me put the canoe on the car and put the straps and ropes on to hold it down. I mostly had everything wrong. Glad I asked and he helped.

Once on the dock at the access to Little Long by myself, I realized I had no plan for loading my small super light canoe. How do I balance this tippy boat? I wrestled with my every decision until I made myself get in and take off. It was a small lake and a calm day after all.

At the portage I managed disembarking without spilling myself or the contents of the boat. I looked at the time and realized, if I didn’t pick up my pace, I’d be setting up my tent in the dark. I strapped on both backpacks one on the front the other on the back. Luckily the portage was short, but it had a fallen tree across the path. This obstacle was high enough that I had to take off the packs and straddle the branch.

Next how would I get the canoe off my head and over this obstacle? As I approached it with canoe overhead, I decided to walk up to the branch and drop the canoe’s nose to reach the ground on the other side of the tree and leave it sitting there while I crawled, boat free, over the branch and then crawled back under the canoe. Then I repositioned it on my shoulders. Success!

On the other side of the trail, I found a warm sand beach with easy loading for take off again.

I was paddling on beautiful Burntside lake. This is a large lake but I was only paddling a corner of it. It could turn up some big waves, but on this day the sun was shining and the water was still. It was warm and the water felt warm. I had yet to see another paddler. From this point to the camp I could not get out of the canoe. I could not stand, could not change my position, could not pee.

When I turned into the Dead River, it was the kind of peace and quiet that makes you feel still and shadowed with absolute calm. The “river” is a pathway without the rushing of a river or a creek. The path cuts through the lily pads that inch into high grasses and eventually tall trees. I decided to eat one of my PB&Js. I rested my paddle along side me. And it slipped into the water. My only paddle unreachable. I looked at the tangle of lily pads and assured myself I could not stand on them. I tried paddling with my hands. Nope. Then I grabbed the device I screw onto the canoe for padding to portage. Yup. I back paddled right to it. Not once did I feel uncalm.

By the time I entered the lake my paddling was slow and painful. My legs were stiff and painful. But the coming evening was so quiet and warm and soon the log steps to the campsite were in view. The boat drifted into the shallows. I could stand. It took me four hours of sitting but I arrived.

No one, no other person was on that lake. Just me.