Overcast. Cold. Damp grass. It was a pleasure to wake up not in a parking lot. The dogs at the house across the street (dirt road) barked at me as I exited my car, a proper second alarm. Awake before Hoobs again, I decided to do some work and watch a movie while he slept, it was a good choice. Once awake, we cleaned up and made the last bit of driving to Voyageurs.
Arriving at the Ash River Visitors Center we were greeted by another nice park ranger who gladly answered all of our dumb questions. There were lots of dumb questions. Here’s a quick rundown of the answers to what we asked. First, Voyageurs NP can only be accessed by boat. There are no roads anywhere in the park. Second, campsites are broken into “front country” and “back country” designations to differentiate how far into the park they exist. Third, some camp sites require a boat taxi, then a hike, then a boat rental to get to because outside watercraft aren’t permitted to keep the waters clean. Finally, there are over 500 lakes in Voyageurs.
With the lo down, we figured out a game plan for the day, and opted for a front country campsite that would be about 3 miles of paddling. That would be home for the night and then head back the next day. I didn’t think three miles of paddling was too much, but I am still a land lubber, remember. With site selected, and permit payed, we wandered off to check out some of the overlooks. They weren’t terribly exciting. Finally, we went down to what I’ll call resort row. A mile or two of shore line with resorts lined up one after another, mixed in with homes and the occasional general store.
After a bust at one place with no attendant to take our money, we wandered down to the next resort where the main office was a mom playing with her kids in a booth across from the bar. Talk about super laid back, and not a half bad job. Canoe secured, Hoobs and I split up to dissect our cars for the essentials to load into the canoe. Problem was, I’d never done anything like this before, so I treated it like a backpacking trip. Essentials loaded into my pack, ready to go. Hoobs is a veteran of the waters and knew that certain luxuries could be afforded. Example: I brought my water filter, thinking it would be the easiest way to go. Hoobs simply brought a gallon of water.
Loaded up, I took the rear seat, hoping to sneak in a few candid shots of Hoobs. That didn’t happen. The rear seat is also designated as the steering as well, and I steered that boat about as good as a college freshman just learning about fireball on their birthday. We were all over the place, and at the first stop to go ashore and stretch out, I swapped with Hoobs, hoping we would be a bit more efficient with him at the “wheel.” He fared better than I, but not by much. No matter, I felt better knowing that it was a nigh impossible task.
Thinking we had made it to our site, we hopped out to explore, only to find that this wasn’t the place. Remember that whole thing about remembering to bring a map? I’d like to make an addendum to that: bring a USEFUL map. We had a generic park map, with barely enough markers to say which lake was which. Thankfully my phone gps worked, and with some remembering about where our site was supposed to be, we found it and pulled into the natural marina, alone.
The site could host up to 9 people, but we were the only inhabitants for the evening. With some much needed stretching and relaxing done, dinner was made and a fire started. It had been raining days previous, and almost all the wood around was soaking wet. Thankfully someone left a bundle of wood, and we gladly swiped it up for our own warmth. Stoking the fire, keeping it alive, and watching the setting sun, it was a beautiful scene. Peaceful.
Still hungry, we decided to get creative. Sliced potatoes wrapped in aluminum foil and cooked on the coals was a good start, but we decided to go further. Next, we wrapped them in tortillas, because anything can be made better by simply putting a tortilla around it. Fact. But we decided to go further. I hadn’t used all the seasoning from my ramen, and dug it out of our trash bag to sprinkle on top. Now that was a delicious confection. Camp fire cooked potato slices wrapped in tortillas with ramen beef flavor sprinkled on top. Hunger really is the best spice.
We wandered around the peninsula to get a better look at the incoming storm in the distance. Hoobs and I posted up with our cameras, shot the shit, and took photo after photo in hopes of capturing some of the distant lightning strikes. Each of us had no luck. As we were debating whether or not to call it for the night, a huge crack of lightning illuminated over our heads, and thunder echoed for nearly a minute. High tailing it back to camp, we dove into the tent as the onslaught of rain came crashing down.
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Boiling. Humid. Sticky sand. The morning sun was out, and our tent was no longer a shelter, but an oven, and we the sizzling treats. Getting out to the blistering sun was a rude awakening, but much welcomed. I stretched out and decided some morning reading would be the best way to enjoy myself. Hoobs sunbathed and paddled around in the canoe, as much as he could with the wind proving to be a stronger force. I took the chance to jump in the water and clean off a bit. It felt glorious. Though I’m starting to wonder if this lake washing is making me any cleaner since the lakes are often kind of nasty. But if not, at least they’re making me feel better; close enough.
A tasty oatmeal breakfast filled us up enough to slowly tear down camp, and begin to leave our small oasis. At least this time we knew where we were going, problem was now the wind was at our face. Trudging through, one stroke at a time, and trying to keep the canoe someone in line to the right destination, we slowly crossed the lake. The first pit stop was at one of the many small islands scattered about to set up cameras for time-lapse shots and stretch out.
The second stop was at the visitor center beach to rest. I took a quick snooze to be awoken by Hoob’s foot in my face, asking to dig out a splinter. Who am I to say no? Slowly picking at his heel to extract the splinter with his dull knife, I managed to get it out with no blood or pain (to me). Able to walk again, we set off for the final paddle into the bay and back to the bar where we had initially left.
The sun was relentless. Mixed with the reflection off the water, Hoobs and I looked like tomatoes, though he a bit more than I. Backpacks dissected and merged back into our cars like nothing had happened, we made for the nearest town to get supplies for a glorious dinner. Pooling resources, we had giant quesadillas, chips and salsa, and a can of black bean soup. Don’t think I’ve feasted that well in a while, and we were both sufficiently happy. The dinner was made even better with the back drop of the sun setting on a lake behind us.
Checking maps, we found Bemidji to be the best stop to sleep for the night and made haste to get there. Reaching the Bemidji Walmart at 10, we weren’t tired enough to sleep; I suggested a movie with fresh popcorn instead. Now I know what you’re thinking, popcorn that’s fresh, how? Well I’ll tell ya how.
We wandered into Walmart and found the single serve popcorn, it came with its own box from which to eat it! Paid for it, and wandered around the store until finding the employee lounge. Walking in like we were supposed to be there, I tossed it in the microwave, set the time, and we waited. A fellow worker was in there and we chatted him up for the few minutes while our treat cooked. A quick feeling of panic came when the manager walked out of her office, but then went straight out the door, not even batting an eye at us. Popcorn popped, we walked back out to my car, set up the movie, and relaxed. Yeah, that worked.
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Awaking to a slow morning, figured out our respective paths, and said goodbye. Another great link up, though not as crazy as last time, it was still great fun. Thanks Hoobs, hope your trip is going smashing.
