A Week on The Kawishiwi River
A nod to Henry David Thoreau’s “A week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers”
We not only survived our five-night adventure in the Boundary Waters but thrived. We continue to have great travel karma with only minor mishaps (we’ll get to that momentarily).
We drove from Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore around the southwest shore of Lake Superior through the corner of Wisconsin, the City of Duluth and then north to Ely, Minnesota – the primary jumping-off point for travelling into the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness (BWCAW).
I can’t say enough good things about Ely Outfitting and our entire experience working with them – great gear and great folks. They’re a high-performing team of very interesting people. We got our wilderness permit, route plan, food, gear, and canoe, along with an excellent briefing and ride to our put-in from Greg, a retired NPS ranger.
It was daunting to shoulder very large (~ 50 lb) dry bags, carry them ½ mile through the woods to the river’s edge, and go back for the second round, where CJ got the third pack and I got the canoe. One could call it a confidence-builder for the portages ahead, but the truth is, we were griping (as we did in every portage): why did we let them give us so much food?
I pride myself on being competent at reading a topo map, but it’s been 20 years since my last orienteering activity, and I’ve never had to navigate on water like this. It was a little nervous making at first (every day), but we got the hang of it and found our intended destinations (every day). Camp on the first night was on the shoulder of a cove, with a sweet sunset view over the river. The logistics of setting up camp, cooking dinner, and getting the food bag hung in the trees was challenging for our fatigued brains, so we resolved to land in future campsites with some energy to spare.
As we were getting organized, I realized I did not have my fishing rod – oy vay! I assumed it was left at the drop-off. Then I misplaced the map – we could not find it anywhere. Again, oy vay! Deep breaths and figuring out how to adapt. Catherine had just enough cell signal to email Ely and ask them to send us a pdf of the map and our wilderness permit which was with it. And we figured we would make a morning activity of paddling back to the access point to get my rod. Unfortunately – no fishing rod . On the walk back along the portage path, I soothed myself, “More time for reading and journaling.”
Upon return to camp, we cooked up the big ‘first day’ breakfast of fresh eggs and bacon and had a pleasant surprise when I found the missing map where I had stuck it for ‘safe keeping’ in the lining of one of the dry bags. That was uplifting, despite the ‘senior moment’ aspect. Well fed, with map in hand, we struck camp and set off.
A key element of Boundary Water travel is that river current is fairly meaningless (the river is like a lake) – the wind is what matters. That first full day was easy, and we managed two short portages adroitly (cursing about the weight of the bags continued, however). We made camp on a cove on a south facing cove that was visited by a couple swans who hung around ‘till sunset. After one of several refreshing skinny dips, we embraced going fully diurnal, and made it a point to cook dinner, eat, clean up, and get ready for the night before sunset. This had the advantages of both doing the chores in daylight and retreating to the tent when the onslaught of mosquitos occurs after the spectacular sunset. Plus, we could completely relax and relish the peace and quiet of the wilderness as dusk approached.
The next day we proceeded up the South Kawishiwi and snagged a great site on a breezy peninsula with great views in 3 directions (recommended by Greg). We set up camp early, I strung up the hammock, and enjoyed an afternoon of napping, reading, and journaling. Deep decompression from civilization mode. Fellow residents of the “Breezy Point Camp” were a trio of loons who spent the afternoon patrolling the river channel, and dragonflies galore at sunset.
After two days of glorious weather, the next day dawned with dark skies. We had planned for a rainy morning departure and fortunately it held off until we got caffeinated and launched. A large brood of loons set off into the lagoon as we prepared to put in, and then a bald eagle swooped down for a strike on the river as we paddled away in the drizzle. We breakfasted on high calory “portage bars” en route to the first of four portages on “Soggy, Sucky Saturday.”
We met our mutual commitment to keep spirits up throughout, as we had planned to push through the journey to Lake One (yes, that’s its name, along with Lakes Two, Three and Four) to get all our portages done and have a ‘basecamp day’ to dry out and relax. After five hours, we were dismayed when the first campsite on Lake One was occupied and we had to turn into a headwind and now driving rain to head to the next. I became a bit concerned that things might go sideways. Luckily, after another 45 minutes and passing a second occupied campsite, we found an open site with a very inviting landing.
Teeth chattered as we set-up the tent and a rain fly, changed into dry clothes, then abated as we waited out the pounding rain. We read in the tent for several hours and emerging for a dry happy hour and dinner. Drying our clothes and gear took two days, because the morning brought another squall while we were in the canoe exploring the lake. After lunch the sun had returned, so we explored of the marsh and stream on the opposite end of the lake - a festival of water lilies and marsh grasses.
That evening we kept returning to the shoreline to view the sunset down lake, and reflected on our Boundary Waters experience. We agreed that it was beautiful, deeply peaceful, wonderfully secluded and imbued with a multitude of different pine trees; and admitted that we had hoped to see and hear more wildlife. The evenings were practically silent, which is unusual for Virginians accustomed to a cacophony of insects, frogs, and birds on a summer night. I also mused that this might be my last wilderness expedit
The next morning, it was great to paddle back in the sun through the narrow channel we had come through on Soggy Sucky Saturday. As we greeted folks just going in, we felt like seasoned north woods voyageurs. We landed at the Lake One access point thirty minutes ahead of our 11am appointed pickup time (this never happens to me!), and were back in town in time for lunch and a beer.
It was reinforcing to confirm that we still have sufficient campcraft skills to thrive for five days in the wilderness, but it’s unlikely we’ll do a trip like this again. We both love the magnificent mountains, CJ is not a backpacker, and both of us feel like we checked a box off with this trip. Plus, we actually like the human observations and interaction in campgrounds (even though skinny dipping is not an option). An objective of this trip had been to disconnect from the relentless daily information firehose of modern life and we certainly accomplished that. I hope to maintain some of this ‘Walden On Wheels’ sensibility as the journey continues.
