It’s an hour drive from Ely to Cook. I arrive at the US Forest Service office at 10:00 just as Anne pulls in. She jumps out of her truck. We load her backpack and Duluth pack next to mine. We head north.
About a year ago, I walked into this same office with Terry. Anne was at work. We were looking at maps and asking her questions. Terry asked if it was possible to paddle from Rainy Lake to Hudson Bay. She told us of her trip three weeks earlier. She and two long-time friends and fellow paddlers were on their last leg of a three year expedition paddling up from Minnesota to Hudson Bay. Just past the village of Oxford House, while paddling through a rapid, they crashed into a rock tipping the canoe, losing gear (including their Garmin locator) and suffering injury. Anne had broken ribs. Yet they pulled the canoe with its remaining gear back to Oxford House. Tough women, eh?
By the time Terry and I left, Anne and I had made plans to finish her route. During this year and several iterations of this plan, we are on our way starting with a five day trip to Churchill, Manitoba.
Our first stop on the auto trip was the French Canadian town of Saint Jean Batiste. By the way, Anne’s partners on the Hudson Bound trip were both named Deb. When they were paddling up the Red River they arrived at the village and this guy named Ulysse pronounced (you liss) played the role of a town greeter. Anne was still connected to him and he and his wife had volunteered to host us for the night.
Ulysse & Sue cooking us dinner
I didn’t feel like a stranger for long. They were welcoming and soon seemed familiar.
Sunday July 13, 2025 (Bear Head Lake State Park Minnesota
I’m sitting at a table at the trail center in Bear Head State Park. It’s a great place to spread your materials out, separate from mosquitos, use a flush toilet and be alone. When I finish here, l’ll test out the beach and perhaps next time I’ll remember my swimsuit.
It’s such a peaceful place. But my long awaited Big Trip is nearing. And I’m studying maps of the 30 some rapids, rocks, eddies and possible portages.
Inviting
Trying not to Panic? It’s two weeks and Two days until Anne and I leave for Winnipeg, Manitoba Canada. I’ve been working on my accent and have memorized Oh Canada. I probably will get the maple leaf tattoo. But I fear my CA plates will give me away.
On the 29th of July we drive to Anne’s cousin’s house and then the next day we drive up to Thompson, Manitoba. The end of the road. There are only a few roads in this province. We board a train at 4:00 PM for a 16 hour train trip to Churchill, the town famous for its polar bears and beluga whales. A couple days later, we return to Thompson. On August 4th we fly with a group of 8 people and 4 canoes to Oxford House, Manitoba which is a Bunibonibee Cree Nation village.
By the end of the day, we will have paddled to our first campsite on the Hayes River heading to York Factory on the Hudson Bay.
Up in the loft the house seems tree-branch level. Terry asked me to walk by the the house to see if it’s visible from the road. Of courses it is. It’s peeking through the trees.
Earlier on in the building process we had a casualty. A red-eyed vireo was nesting inches away on an extended branch. The eggs hatched and Terry was proud to announce the arrival of his little peepers. In a rainstorm, one of the huge tarps that need to be deployed too often, lashed the nest and the whole family was lost. Terry morns, but continues.
The house is a a little over 1000 sq feet not counting the loft or the garage. But it looks the size of a Amazon warehouse. For now that is.
Terry started out working with Steve, his brother from Oklahoma. This week brother Les from Idaho joined them. They are tireless. I still don’t know how Terry understands how to do this. And Steve can catch a mistake or a problem. They all work well together.
This project is unfathomable to me. All the details in the right order. How many details are there?
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.
About a third of my gear
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.
The dock at Little Long Lake
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.
Ready to portage from Little Long Lake
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!
Burntside Lake
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.
Thursday, I was invited to lunch at Anne’s cabin. She lives over an hour away. This is the first time I’ve been to this neck of the woods. I carefully followed her directions to the landing where she was waiting to pick me up and boat me to the island she lives on. I didn’t know what to expect of the lake, the island, the cabin nor her. I had only met her briefly twice before and that was last summer.
Terry and I were at one of Superior National Forest Service Visitor Centers. We were looking at one of their big maps and wondering aloud if it was possible to paddle from Rainy Lake in MN to Hudson Bay in Manitoba Canada.
Anne heard the question and told us that she had just come from the final leg of a paddling trip with two friend Deb and Deb. They were paddling from Itasca MN to Hudson Bay, which is a long paddle approximately 2,400 miles. They only had one leg left of this voyage when they hit a rock going through a rapid. The boat flipped, they dumped and all sustained injuries. Anna broke some ribs. Their only option was to return home and finish the paddle the following year 2025. One of the Debs was not going to continue.
“Would I be interested?”
Now, a year later, here I am speeding with Anne on her boat toward a cabin on an island on a gorgeous summer day. Wow what a place and day. In the past year we have developed a plan via text, email, zoom and phone for the paddle trip. The second Deb had also resigned. So it was just the two of us. We would be paddling for 14 days from Oxford House Manitoba to York Factory, Hudson Bay on the Hayes River. We would drive to Thompson Manitoba because it’s the end of the road. Then catch a fight to Oxford House.
Anne and me at her cabin
During the past year, Anne found a guide service, Wild Loon, in Winnipeg that was making the same trip. We signed up. We will be joining six other paddlers and two guides.
This makes it seem much safer, but I have not paddled any whitewater. And we will have many rapids to navigate. I’ve got work ahead. We’re leaving on Aug 4th.
It ‘s hard to believe the progress of building our home in Ely MN. Terry and his brother Steve have worked from breakfast to supper every day for three weeks.
A couple days ago they anticipated our four-inch deluge and flew through every job trying to seal the frame up to protect all their work. Even I was out with Terry in the dark bailing water out of the boat that had been left at the wrong angle. More rain is predicted for several days.
That was Terry’s morning, but mine was all about eyedrops. Instructions read: Add your three important eye drops to the left eye. Time them exactly three minutes apart. Have someone drive you to the surgery center.
“Terry, it’s time to go.” He put the gun down
and we were on your way.
Fifteen quick miles and we turn into the parking lot. I order, “Slow down and let me read this to you. I have instructions here. Go around to the back, look for the black sandwich board sign, and call the number on the board. Or you can knock three times on the door.”
There was no need for either. A nurse was waiting to get me in and out of my second cataract surgery in 40 minutes. Race is On. Ten minutes to start and IV give five more eyedrops. Then drop some Versed in the IV. The bed is pushed next door, my head is taped still, and I’m told not to blink, and it’s over.
The nurse calls Terry. He makes it back to the center in 16 minutes. We take second.
Terry says it’s our lucky day. We might stop the rat invasion today. “We? Don’t count me in, I think the rat is cute”. From Terry: “Hey, those are wood rats eating the birdseed, and multiplying!” My fancy gun is only a pellet gun, and I’m shooting through an open window!”
I committed to a whitewater paddling trip in August. This has been in the works for almost a year now. It’s still 3 months away, but only three weeks until my departure from here to MN. I’m vacillating between finding and packing the myriad and necessities for four months of building a house and preparing for a 14-day paddle on the Hayes River in the wilderness of Manitoba. Both enterprises are foreign to my bailiwick.
But all the details of shutting this house down and getting ready to resume our house building project are daunting. At least we’ve worked on this for the past two years and I have some knowledge of place and duties. Whereas the Hayes and whitewater canoeing is new to me.
I’ve read a couple dozen books, and watched many more You tubes on paddling Wilderness Canada. I run with canoe adventure audiobooks being read to me through earbuds. I love all this stuff: canoeing, camping, wilderness, the Arctic. So I’m absolutely thrilled to have an opportunity to paddle here.
A couple days ago, the book Riverman ended just as my run did. What to listen to next? And Deliverance came to mind. When I read it, I’m thinking in the 80s, I loved the writing, and it takes place on a river. Now I’m past the middle of the book, and it’s a terrific read, but I’m wondering if Deliverance might not have been my best idea.
I’m emerging from a long hibernation of sorts. I was set to abandon this blog and just use Facebook to do some photo journaling. But more and more, I have a hard time wading through all the reels and advertising to follow my friends. I believe others must have the same experience.
The impetus to blog now is that I feel I’m entering unknown territory, unsure of how to navigate. I’m labelling this Terry-tory. You probably know we’re building a house. The we is composed of Terry. Mostly, I’m of no help. Terry always says “we.” But that’s far from the truth.
Last year we left MN in early October to beat the cold by returning to our house in CA. Terry had our crawlspace/foundation (the culmination of months of work,) covered in multiple tarps impervious to every possible condition and varmint. Hopefully that is.
This year, he’s leaving on May 18th two weeks ahead of me. Then he will face the consequences of the winter.
Then he’ll continue where he left off. Proceeding will be a test and a testament to every decision HE makes. it’s a nail biter.
Hopefully by the end of September, we’ll have a warm envelope—walls up, doors and windows in, heat and plumbing functioning. Then we can continue with the interior.
I would love to share this process and progress with you.
Terry sacrificed his puffy for me because I had all the clothes I brought on already and was snug in my sleeping bag yet still shivering. I felt vindicated when I exited the tent in the morning to a frosty world.
Just s little frost is cold
We headed into the Moose River. So narrow now it was barely a stream. I’ve been listening to the audiobook, Beaver Land by Leila Philip. I feel more amazement for these animals and their work. Yet I’ve never seen one at work. We saw a number of them swimming with their V wake trailing them. But all of their dams and lodges were abandoned leaving us many opportunities to negotiate rounding and plowing through their work. We were just here seven days ago but didn’t recall all the these obstacles. Sometimes we could rush a small break in the sticks as we pushed off with our paddles.
Other times we needed to evacuate the canoe standing atop the dam or in the knee deep water pulling the canoe as it raked and rasped the gnawed boards of these bridge builders and then caught and released our boat.
We travelled over and through twelve beaver dams a lot by a dam site
We were in and out of the small 25 rod portages and then it was the last 160 rod portage to reach the hole in the forest that dumped us into the parking lot.
Back in the car we don’t need the heat on. Maybe we never did.
We were back on the Echo Trail with wilderness in the rear view mirror.
