Another episode with just Erik as the madness of quarantine settles in. It’s the first leg of another month in Quetico Provincial Park with a group of four this time. Follow along as we make our way from the end of the Gunflint Trail to Atikokan, Ontario. Boy oh boy these were simpler times.
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Episode Transcript
[0:00:15 – 0:00:24] Erik: Hello and welcome to Take 10 of Tumble Home, a Boundary Waters podcast.
[0:00:25 – 0:00:31] Erik: I am Eric, here to distract you from the dystopian hellscape that is 2020.
[0:00:31 – 0:00:32] Erik: I am alone.
[0:00:36 – 0:00:47] Erik: I’m joined by no one, but nevertheless, I’m reading more journals from a month in Quetico.
[0:00:48 – 0:00:53] Erik: I don’t know, honestly, what I will do with myself after I get through.
[0:00:54 – 0:01:02] Erik: I’m sure I can dredge the journal drawer, old blogs of Clearwater for more.
[0:01:04 – 0:01:23] Erik: insightful, youthful, exuberant, young Eric, tromping around the superior Quetica wilderness to keep myself from going crazy.
[0:01:25 – 0:01:27] Erik: Hope you’re all doing well out there.
[0:01:29 – 0:01:32] Erik: I am still here.
[0:01:35 – 0:01:40] Erik: Obviously not with Adam, but he’s out there fighting the good fight.
[0:01:40 – 0:01:44] Erik: And I am here sponsored by Bell’s Two-Hearted Ale.
[0:01:48 – 0:01:50] Erik: Couldn’t do it without you, beer.
[0:01:58 – 0:01:58] Erik: Yep.
[0:02:01 – 0:02:01] Erik: Still getting through it.
[0:02:03 – 0:02:03] Erik: Boy.
[0:02:03 – 0:02:03] Erik: Okay.
[0:02:06 – 0:02:09] Erik: April 2020.
[0:02:11 – 0:02:13] Erik: Really socking it to us here.
[0:02:15 – 0:02:17] Erik: Ice on the lakes holds firm.
[0:02:20 – 0:02:22] Erik: State parks are no go.
[0:02:24 – 0:02:26] Erik: The BWCA is our last hope.
[0:02:28 – 0:02:31] Erik: For any kind of outdoor activity.
[0:02:31 – 0:02:37] Erik: But until May 4th, that remains to be seen as well.
[0:02:41 – 0:02:44] Erik: Let’s take a trip back to simpler times.
[0:02:46 – 0:02:51] Erik: October 2012 to be exact.
[0:02:52 – 0:02:55] Erik: Another trip down memory lane.
[0:02:57 – 0:03:07] Erik: Through the help of Eric’s old trip journals, I seem to remember this October trip into Quetico.
[0:03:08 – 0:03:27] Erik: I really started hamming it up with some of the writings, using the experiences, the sights, the smells, the sounds to accentuate what I thought was good writing.
[0:03:28 – 0:03:29] Erik: I don’t know.
[0:03:31 – 0:03:32] Erik: Does anybody ever really know?
[0:03:33 – 0:03:33] Erik: I can’t tell.
[0:03:34 – 0:03:39] Erik: I had fun writing it, and it’s been many years since I’ve reread it.
[0:03:41 – 0:03:45] Erik: This is the third and final, God, 2012.
[0:03:47 – 0:03:49] Erik: I might have a lot of time on my hands this year.
[0:03:49 – 0:03:50] Erik: Maybe this can happen again.
[0:03:50 – 0:03:58] Erik: But that is the last month-long trip I have taken.
[0:04:00 – 0:04:06] Erik: And I shouldn’t necessarily complain how many people get to take month-long trips.
[0:04:06 – 0:04:06] SPEAKER_00: I took three.
[0:04:08 – 0:04:10] Erik: But they were every, you know, three years in a row.
[0:04:10 – 0:04:11] Erik: You kind of get used to it.
[0:04:13 – 0:04:16] Erik: And all of a sudden, almost 10 years has gone by.
[0:04:17 – 0:04:22] Erik: And the longest trip I have done since then has been four nights.
[0:04:26 – 0:04:26] Erik: But
[0:04:29 – 0:04:30] SPEAKER_00: We have the memories.
[0:04:30 – 0:04:31] Erik: We have the trip journals.
[0:04:32 – 0:04:35] Erik: And unless you have any other questions, any questions?
[0:04:37 – 0:04:40] SPEAKER_00: No, I don’t see any hands or any questions.
[0:04:41 – 0:04:47] Erik: Moving on into another month in Quetico.
[0:04:53 – 0:04:56] Erik: October paddling can be some of the best of the year.
[0:04:58 – 0:05:02] Erik: And for the longest time, it seemed I was the only one who knew.
[0:05:03 – 0:05:06] Erik: There might be a little bit more interjection from me this week.
[0:05:09 – 0:05:15] Erik: Over the past few years, I have experienced the best canoe country has to offer in October.
[0:05:17 – 0:05:20] Erik: On average, it is an unpredictable month.
[0:05:22 – 0:05:27] Erik: It offers splendidly crisp days devoid of bugs and people.
[0:05:29 – 0:05:38] Erik: It can also offer cold, relentless winds that hint at winter and interminable periods of rain and snow.
[0:05:40 – 0:05:43] Erik: The last few have graced me with the former.
[0:05:44 – 0:05:55] Erik: Unseasonably warm temperatures, clear skies, and light winds have dominated most days of travel the past few years.
[0:05:57 – 0:06:03] Erik: Almost so often that I start wishing for clouds, just for a change in lighting.
[0:06:05 – 0:06:10] Erik: It’s hard to imagine the string of good weather I’ve had during this notoriously unsettled month.
[0:06:12 – 0:06:22] Erik: The last two Octobers seem like a blur of unnaturally sun-drenched days, rosy and golden twilights, and quiet, star-speckled lights.
[0:06:24 – 0:06:24] Erik: Nights.
[0:06:24 – 0:06:25] Erik: Ha ha ha.
[0:06:28 – 0:06:31] Erik: These are a collection of perfect memories.
[0:06:32 – 0:06:35] Erik: Some of the best of my life.
[0:06:36 – 0:06:38] Erik: Rarely are they broken up by dullness.
[0:06:40 – 0:06:42] Erik: The periods of grey do exist, though.
[0:06:42 – 0:06:43] Erik: They stand out because of their rarity.
[0:06:46 – 0:06:47] Erik: They seem worse in retrospect.
[0:06:50 – 0:06:58] Erik: One cannot probe the interior of a boreal wilderness late in autumn without running into periods of inclement weather.
[0:07:00 – 0:07:05] Erik: Seemingly, I have avoided long stretches of nastiness.
[0:07:07 – 0:07:08] Erik: Until now.
[0:07:11 – 0:07:11] Erik: October 1
[0:07:18 – 0:07:29] Erik: It’s the third October in a row I am staring at Gull Lake, theoretically equipped to survive a month of canoe camping in Quetico Provincial Park.
[0:07:30 – 0:07:32] Erik: Again, the parking lot is desolate.
[0:07:33 – 0:07:40] Erik: The day started calm and clear as our group of four prepares two Min 2s and seven Duluth packs.
[0:07:41 – 0:07:43] Erik: Clouds and wind move in.
[0:07:44 – 0:07:53] Erik: Our motley crew consists of Paige May, who joined me last year, and Victoria and Elizabeth Doan, who will be making their first visit to the park tomorrow.
[0:07:55 – 0:07:59] Erik: As we make our way up the Seagull River, the Gull River, I believe.
[0:07:59 – 0:08:00] Erik: I don’t think it’s the Seagull River.
[0:08:01 – 0:08:05] Erik: And out into the vastness that is Saginaw Lake, I contemplate the next four weeks.
[0:08:08 – 0:08:12] Erik: Will a group consisting of two sisters and two couples make it out alive?
[0:08:14 – 0:08:15] Erik: How did we accrue seven packs?
[0:08:17 – 0:08:18] Erik: Will the weather hold?
[0:08:19 – 0:08:22] Erik: How long will it take us to reach Atacocan, Ontario?
[0:08:25 – 0:08:33] Erik: After finishing up at the ranger station, our progress slows as the north wind picks up.
[0:08:34 – 0:08:36] Erik: We crawl across Cache Bay.
[0:08:38 – 0:08:41] Erik: The roar of silver falls in the distance is a welcome sound.
[0:08:43 – 0:08:46] Erik: On our way back from the first trip across, we run into another group.
[0:08:48 – 0:08:52] Erik: We also meet two men near the falls who are camped on Saginagon’s Lake.
[0:08:54 – 0:09:00] Erik: Already we have encountered more human life in one day than we did in 30 last year.
[0:09:00 – 0:09:02] SPEAKER_00: Is the secret out on October?
[0:09:05 – 0:09:07] Erik: Our foursome pushes into a stiff headwind.
[0:09:08 – 0:09:11] Erik: The dying light of the day keeps us scanning for campsites.
[0:09:13 – 0:09:21] Erik: We find a nice open sight on the south side of Saginagon’s Lake, right where you start getting to the feeling that it’s a bigger lake than you’d thought.
[0:09:23 – 0:09:26] Erik: The winds force us towards the back of the site for dinner.
[0:09:29 – 0:09:37] Erik: As we finish our extra thick, that’s in quotes, pork chops, the wind dies and the sky clears.
[0:09:38 – 0:09:42] Erik: My first night back in Quetico is a perfect one.
[0:09:51 – 0:09:51] Erik: October 2nd.
[0:09:54 – 0:09:58] Erik: We rise with the sun, and before long the day is warm.
[0:10:00 – 0:10:07] Erik: As the last drops of coffee drip, we notice a party of six moving northeast up Saginaw Guns.
[0:10:08 – 0:10:12] Erik: I really think the secret on October is out.
[0:10:14 – 0:10:20] Erik: Paddling through the falls chain the third time is not as thrilling as the first.
[0:10:21 – 0:10:26] Erik: though I live vicariously through Tori, my paddling partner, to keep it interesting.
[0:10:28 – 0:10:30] Erik: She’s a geologist, and you can tell.
[0:10:31 – 0:10:43] Erik: Almost every portage landing, I look up and find her crouched over, examining rocks, sometimes down on hands and knees with a hand lens.
[0:10:45 – 0:10:52] Erik: The falls chain must look different to everybody, but I wonder what it looks like through the eyes of a geologist.
[0:10:53 – 0:11:01] Erik: As the sun climbs, the little wind there is dies, and again, I move through this part of Canada under perfect conditions.
[0:11:03 – 0:11:07] Erik: After the portage around Canyon Falls, the idea for a swim is hard to pass up.
[0:11:09 – 0:11:14] Erik: We decide to make camp on the same site we occupied a year prior, on Kenny Lake.
[0:11:16 – 0:11:23] Erik: A frozen pesto chicken noodle soup is reheated over a cedar fire as the day comes to a close.
[0:11:25 – 0:11:31] Erik: I anticipate the coming days as they will bring with them new lakes and unexplored territory.
[0:11:33 – 0:11:36] Erik: Wherever I find myself in Quetico, I am happy.
[0:11:37 – 0:11:40] Erik: But I am happiest when I find myself somewhere new.
[0:11:43 – 0:11:44] Erik: October 3.
[0:11:45 – 0:11:48] Erik: Our third morning is a copy of yesterday’s.
[0:11:49 – 0:11:54] Erik: Once more our ensemble enjoys an unusually warm October day.
[0:11:55 – 0:11:59] Erik: Kenneboss Falls provides the first and only portage of the day.
[0:12:00 – 0:12:06] Erik: A wrecked bell canoe emerges from a tangle of cedar as we approach just above the falls.
[0:12:09 – 0:12:16] Erik: It is a ghost of an awful experience, and we all quietly envision exactly how it met its demise.
[0:12:19 – 0:12:29] Erik: We glide up Kanipi under clear skies, in between two worlds, the real world and the one perfectly reflected beneath us.
[0:12:30 – 0:12:33] Erik: As far as the eye can see, there isn’t a breath of wind.
[0:12:35 – 0:12:39] Erik: We meander to the northwest, stopping frequently for fishing and pictures.
[0:12:40 – 0:12:44] Erik: At Rose Island, we bear southwest and begin considering campsites.
[0:12:47 – 0:12:51] Erik: Three different sites are investigated before we find a nice island spot.
[0:12:54 – 0:12:58] Erik: Page and I head back out after camp is set up in search for dinner.
[0:12:58 – 0:13:06] Erik: On his first cast, Page lands a nice pike, a perfect accompaniment to Szechuan stir fry.
[0:13:08 – 0:13:12] Erik: As we paddle back to camp in dying light, the sun makes one last appearance.
[0:13:14 – 0:13:20] Erik: Birch and aspen are still bursting with neon yellow leaves, aflame in the amber light.
[0:13:21 – 0:13:29] Erik: Deep crimson maple sneaks through the hillside before meeting their otherworldly brethren mirrored in the waters of Cawnippy.
[0:13:30 – 0:13:34] Erik: Our cadence slows as the surreal scene engulfs us.
[0:13:36 – 0:13:40] Erik: Moments like this are ephemeral to the eyes but permanent to the life of the mind.
[0:13:43 – 0:13:46] Erik: As the sun melts into the horizon, we reach camp.
[0:13:47 – 0:13:57] Erik: Over dinner, we crank the weather radio in time to hear the words, Winter Weather Advisory, before the robot fades into static.
[0:13:59 – 0:14:03] Erik: Conversation ceases and eyes widen as I search for better reception.
[0:14:04 – 0:14:08] Erik: Over the course of an hour, we are able to piece together our dismal forecast.
[0:14:10 – 0:14:17] Erik: Heavy winds picking up out of the east, then south, then southwest throughout the next 24 hours.
[0:14:17 – 0:14:21] Erik: Temperatures dropping and accumulation of snow up to three to five inches.
[0:14:23 – 0:14:28] Erik: Standing in a t-shirt, the weather robot warns of the dangers of open areas.
[0:14:30 – 0:14:31] Erik: I pull out the map.
[0:14:32 – 0:14:35] Erik: There are quite a few open areas on tomorrow’s route.
[0:14:36 – 0:14:44] Erik: We decide it wise to get an early start and try and get ahead of the southwest wind and snow.
[0:14:49 – 0:15:00] Erik: October 4 Gusts wake us early.
[0:15:02 – 0:15:05] Erik: Laying in our hammocks, it is hard to tell from which way.
[0:15:06 – 0:15:13] Erik: It’s gray, but surprisingly warm still, and we are happy to see the wind still blowing out of the east.
[0:15:15 – 0:15:21] Erik: By the time we reach the portage into Key Watten Lake, the temperature is considerably cooler.
[0:15:23 – 0:15:26] Erik: We pass pictographs on our way to the portage into Hurlburt Creek.
[0:15:28 – 0:15:36] Erik: Unfortunately, I do not corroborate the location of said portage on my fisher map with my chrismar and find the fisher to be wrong.
[0:15:37 – 0:15:42] Erik: Wrong enough that we have to backtrack around a point of land into a headwind.
[0:15:44 – 0:15:47] Erik: It won’t be the last time I curse the fisher maps.
[0:15:49 – 0:15:55] Erik: The portage from Key Wanton into Hurlburt Creek is obviously not traveled very often.
[0:15:56 – 0:15:59] Erik: We reach the creek and notice the wind has stopped.
[0:16:01 – 0:16:07] Erik: We move down the creek under slate skies, which although the wind has died, still move with speed.
[0:16:09 – 0:16:11] Erik: The eerie silence lasts only minutes.
[0:16:13 – 0:16:17] Erik: Enough time for me to joke that it’s the wind changing direction at the same time we are.
[0:16:19 – 0:16:28] Erik: The joke becomes reality as we reach the shores of Williams Lake and to our horror realize the wind is out of the south now, our direction of travel for the rest of the day.
[0:16:30 – 0:16:36] Erik: Williams and Payne Lakes are small enough that we only occasionally run into headwinds.
[0:16:37 – 0:16:40] Erik: It’s Hurlburt that worries us.
[0:16:41 – 0:16:53] Erik: Hurlburt, four miles long, running from southwest to northeast, appears to be set up perfectly for funneling the gales that must be in excess of 30 miles per hour now.
[0:16:54 – 0:16:58] Erik: We haven’t seen the campsite since Key Wanton, which is five portages back.
[0:16:59 – 0:17:04] Erik: The Fisher map shows one campsite on Hurlburt, about a mile down on the east side of the lake.
[0:17:04 – 0:17:05] Erik: It seems our only option.
[0:17:07 – 0:17:12] Erik: As we scramble over dried creek bed into Hurlburt Lake, it starts raining.
[0:17:14 – 0:17:19] Erik: The northernmost bay of the lake offers some protection, and it actually doesn’t look that bad.
[0:17:21 – 0:17:23] Erik: Tori and I move out into the lake first.
[0:17:24 – 0:17:31] Erik: Quickly, we are forced behind an island, and the last point before we will be at the mercy of the windstorm.
[0:17:32 – 0:17:36] Erik: The red dot marking the site on our fissure seems to glow.
[0:17:37 – 0:17:43] Erik: It’s our only hope, our only sanctuary for miles, and it’s so close.
[0:17:44 – 0:17:48] Erik: The time is now, and we strike off into the churning mess.
[0:17:49 – 0:17:52] Erik: It is a quartering headwind, as luck would have it.
[0:17:53 – 0:17:57] Erik: The waves are manageable, but the gusts threaten to literally blow us over.
[0:17:58 – 0:18:03] Erik: We lean hard into the wind, which feels like it’s blasting at about 50 mph.
[0:18:06 – 0:18:14] Erik: The far shoreline is reached and we find refuge behind a slight point before heading back out directly into the wind in search for a home.
[0:18:15 – 0:18:21] Erik: As we inch along shore, we reach and then pass the point where a site should have been.
[0:18:22 – 0:18:31] Erik: We stare shocked at steep rocky shorelines that climb ten feet before flattening into a jumble of downed spruce and cedar.
[0:18:33 – 0:18:33] Erik: There is no sight.
[0:18:35 – 0:18:40] Erik: At the same time we realize what trouble we are in, a gale slams into us and stops us dead.
[0:18:40 – 0:18:43] Erik: For a moment we actually move backwards.
[0:18:44 – 0:18:56] Erik: We muster strength that must only be allowed by the body for use in times of grave danger and make it to another point just large enough to block some wind.
[0:18:57 – 0:19:02] Erik: To any observers, which I guarantee there were not, we must look ridiculous.
[0:19:03 – 0:19:08] Erik: As we catch our breaths, I feel tiny and insignificant.
[0:19:09 – 0:19:11] Erik: This storm doesn’t care about us.
[0:19:12 – 0:19:15] Erik: Hurlburt could eat us alive and nobody would know.
[0:19:17 – 0:19:25] Erik: The idea to make our own camp is hard to deny, but we need an actual site that we can hole up for a couple of days.
[0:19:26 – 0:19:28] Erik: Especially considering the forecast.
[0:19:30 – 0:19:35] Erik: I spend the next hour and three miles in a state of disconnection.
[0:19:36 – 0:19:37] Erik: I go to my happy place.
[0:19:39 – 0:19:41] Erik: Try not to think about the distance.
[0:19:43 – 0:19:45] Erik: Muscles and minds are pushed to their limits.
[0:19:47 – 0:19:48] Erik: Just one more mile.
[0:19:49 – 0:19:50] Erik: Just one more bend.
[0:19:51 – 0:19:52] Erik: Just one more point.
[0:19:53 – 0:19:56] Erik: Finally, just one more stroke.
[0:19:58 – 0:19:58] Erik: It’s hard to believe…
[0:20:00 – 0:20:05] Erik: It even possible to paddle that hard for that long, but we had no choice.
[0:20:06 – 0:20:09] Erik: The portage into Trant Lake offers a welcome break.
[0:20:11 – 0:20:15] Erik: Rain changes to a heavy sleet as we hunt for a decent spot to stop.
[0:20:17 – 0:20:22] Erik: To the dismay of the group, the first sight is deemed unworthy.
[0:20:23 – 0:20:24] Erik: It is too exposed.
[0:20:26 – 0:20:33] Erik: I think we are all at the point of mental and physical collapse when we reach the next site on the map.
[0:20:34 – 0:20:37] Erik: Happily, we find it fits our needs perfectly.
[0:20:37 – 0:20:43] Erik: Plenty of wood, large flat area well protected from, well, everything at this point.
[0:20:45 – 0:20:49] Erik: Rainflies, tents, and firewood are first orders of business.
[0:20:50 – 0:20:50] Erik: Second,
[0:20:52 – 0:20:54] Erik: is a healthy allotment of rum.
[0:20:56 – 0:21:01] Erik: As darkness and a winter storm settles in around us, we dry out around the fire.
[0:21:02 – 0:21:04] Erik: Dinner is homemade chili and lots of it.
[0:21:06 – 0:21:11] Erik: As the wind and snow persists, it becomes obvious we won’t be going anywhere anytime soon.
[0:21:13 – 0:21:27] Erik: Considering it was one of the most taxing days in a canoe, it does feel exhilarating to be set up in the heart of Quetico, warm and dry, ready to withstand an intense fall snowstorm.
[0:21:31 – 0:21:39] Erik: October 5, knowing we would be spending the day in camp, I linger in my sleeping bag, listening.
[0:21:41 – 0:21:45] Erik: Just beyond the thin nylon protection of my tent is a cold, gray world.
[0:21:47 – 0:21:55] Erik: Finally, we all make our way to the fire where we would spend the day, reading, drinking tea, and napping.
[0:21:57 – 0:22:03] Erik: Most of the snow must have hit south of us, as we only received an inch or so overnight.
[0:22:05 – 0:22:08] Erik: The winds tapered a bit in the afternoon, and by dark it was calm.
[0:22:09 – 0:22:11] Erik: A couple of stars even popped out for a second.
[0:22:13 – 0:22:19] Erik: As we settle into our coldest night yet, Kashapiwi Lake and beyond was on our minds.
[0:22:21 – 0:22:25] Erik: Now that we’ve got this winter storm behind us, it should be smooth sailing.
[0:22:26 – 0:22:26] Erik: Right?
[0:22:30 – 0:22:31] Erik: October 6th.
[0:22:35 – 0:22:39] Erik: Another steely, cold day greets us as we emerge from our tents.
[0:22:41 – 0:22:42] Erik: At least it’s calm.
[0:22:43 – 0:22:46] Erik: By mid-morning, we are cruising towards our first portage.
[0:22:47 – 0:22:51] Erik: After spending a day weather-bound, we are looking forward to covering some ground.
[0:22:52 – 0:22:59] Erik: We eye the 1,200-meter portage between Trant and Kashupiwi, knowing not the toll it will exact on us.
[0:23:00 – 0:23:03] Erik: Packs are hefted, and by 11 a.m. we are moving.
[0:23:04 – 0:23:08] Erik: After 300 meters, the portage veers into a swampy section.
[0:23:09 – 0:23:11] Erik: Plenty of footprints encourage us to press on.
[0:23:12 – 0:23:20] Erik: The trail grows even fainter as it climbs back onto solid rock and then drops back into a field of muck and tamarack.
[0:23:22 – 0:23:25] Erik: It now seems we are following a single set of boot prints.
[0:23:27 – 0:23:33] Erik: The muck field opens up into what looks like a drained beaver pond, holding six inches of black sludge.
[0:23:36 – 0:23:45] Erik: Loading a canoe on the edge of such a mess looks almost as impossible as paddling on it, so we stay on what footing we have.
[0:23:48 – 0:23:55] Erik: As we approach a wall of ostensibly impenetrable downed tamarack, the boot prints vanish and our minds race.
[0:23:57 – 0:23:59] Erik: This cannot possibly be the portage trail.
[0:24:00 – 0:24:04] Erik: We drop packs and backtrack in search of a better way.
[0:24:05 – 0:24:10] Erik: The entire swamp is surrounded by steep cliffs, leading us to believe we didn’t miss the real portage.
[0:24:11 – 0:24:15] Erik: We conclude that the quagmire must usually hold enough water to paddle.
[0:24:16 – 0:24:17] Erik: Obviously it doesn’t now.
[0:24:17 – 0:24:23] Erik: So, we make our own portage.
[0:24:25 – 0:24:31] Erik: After returning for boats, we pull out the svencas and begin clearing a path through the tangled mess.
[0:24:31 – 0:24:38] Erik: Attempting to maneuver yourself and a saw through a thick stand of eyeball-impaling tamarack is dreadful.
[0:24:39 – 0:24:48] Erik: Waist-high downed spruce threatens to pierce a femoral artery, and the layer of fetid muck tries to steal our boots constantly.
[0:24:50 – 0:24:55] Erik: Sweat pours from our brows, and obscenities pour from our gaping mouths.
[0:24:56 – 0:24:59] Erik: Again, we have no alternative but to press on.
[0:25:00 – 0:25:04] Erik: At last we reach solid ground, a broken beaver dam, and the portage.
[0:25:05 – 0:25:07] Erik: Somehow, none of us have been perforated.
[0:25:09 – 0:25:13] Erik: Our new bush portage does the trick as we head back to gather packs and canoes.
[0:25:15 – 0:25:23] Erik: Thinking our troubles must be behind us, we move quickly down the portage, reach Kasha Peewee, and realize they are not.
[0:25:24 – 0:25:27] Erik: Once more, low water levels haunt us.
[0:25:29 – 0:25:31] Erik: The landing is a bone dry.
[0:25:32 – 0:25:32] Erik: Creek.
[0:25:33 – 0:25:34] Erik: Barely.
[0:25:36 – 0:25:37] Erik: Wait, wait, wait.
[0:25:37 – 0:25:37] Erik: Here we go.
[0:25:37 – 0:25:45] Erik: The landing is a bone-dry creek with barely a trickle and choked with the devious work of beavers.
[0:25:47 – 0:25:50] Erik: Water is visible 100 meters up the shoreline.
[0:25:50 – 0:25:51] Erik: We head towards it.
[0:25:53 – 0:25:57] Erik: Soon, we are bobbing atop an open expanse of bog.
[0:25:58 – 0:25:59] Erik: Each step is a gamble.
[0:26:01 – 0:26:09] Erik: As I hopscotch across floating islands of dirt and grass, I hear the shrieks and curses of lost gambles behind me.
[0:26:11 – 0:26:18] Erik: Three hours, three hours after we started, at last we reached the shores of Kashipiwi.
[0:26:19 – 0:26:22] Erik: With the day half gone, we start paddling.
[0:26:23 – 0:26:29] Erik: A light northwest wind does little to impede our progress up Kashupiwi and Keefer.
[0:26:30 – 0:26:35] Erik: After hauling into Sark Lake, the shadows grow long and we decide it wise to stop.
[0:26:38 – 0:26:47] Erik: A nice island sight is procured, and while splitting firewood, the day’s clouds make their way east just in time for sunset.
[0:26:48 – 0:26:49] Erik: Tacos.
[0:26:50 – 0:26:51] Erik: Tacos.
[0:26:51 – 0:26:57] Erik: With fresh guacamole, go a long way in boosting spirits after another long and arduous day.
[0:26:59 – 0:27:02] Erik: Clear skies give way to temperatures in the low 20s.
[0:27:03 – 0:27:04] Erik: And we sleep hard.
[0:27:08 – 0:27:08] Erik: October 7th.
[0:27:13 – 0:27:22] Erik: It is gray and calm as we load canoes and anticipate advancing further into the core of Quetico.
[0:27:23 – 0:27:26] Erik: The pleasurable days of sun and color are gone.
[0:27:27 – 0:27:33] Erik: Vibrant trees of yellow and red have been stripped of their pigment by the gales of yesterday’s storm.
[0:27:34 – 0:27:38] Erik: They now stand as ghosts of fall, portents of winter.
[0:27:41 – 0:27:44] Erik: Our progress is swift up Sark and Cairn lakes.
[0:27:45 – 0:27:53] Erik: We slice through glass-calm waters with considerable ease, and at the north end of Cairn we veer west and carry over into Heronshaw.
[0:27:56 – 0:28:01] Erik: Our eyes stare skyward as the blanket of dull breaks up and the winds increase.
[0:28:03 – 0:28:07] Erik: During our short paddle to the portage into Metacryst Lake, the winds pick up even further.
[0:28:09 – 0:28:13] Erik: On closer inspection, the waves of Metachrist are quite unsettled.
[0:28:14 – 0:28:21] Erik: Belligerent little whitecaps are whipping up in a hurry, with noticeable ambitions for a bulkier existence.
[0:28:23 – 0:28:26] Erik: We make haste and struggle to get started in the headwind.
[0:28:28 – 0:28:35] Erik: Our arms are still recovering from battle with Hurlburt two days prior, so it is fortunate we only have to toil a mile.
[0:28:37 – 0:28:43] Erik: We portage into an unnamed lake and portage again into Baird Lake before lingering for lunch.
[0:28:45 – 0:28:49] Erik: Cheese and jerky help us in our continued struggle to the west.
[0:28:50 – 0:28:53] Erik: Everyone is frustrated with the incessant winds.
[0:28:55 – 0:29:00] Erik: Whichever direction we turn our canoes, the wind turns with us.
[0:29:01 – 0:29:05] Erik: After a week of travel, I joke with confidence that we can navigate without maps.
[0:29:06 – 0:29:10] Erik: Simply paddle into the wind and we’ll make it to Atacocan in no time.
[0:29:12 – 0:29:17] Erik: The portage out of Baird into Cuddy Creek is slightly better than bushwhacking.
[0:29:18 – 0:29:24] Erik: Thick balsam stands reach out to seize every strap, buckle, and fold on our packs.
[0:29:26 – 0:29:31] Erik: Piloting canoes through such a labyrinth of sharp twists proves maddening.
[0:29:32 – 0:29:37] Erik: As soon as we consider the possibility we’re on the wrong path, we discover the creek.
[0:29:38 – 0:29:40] SPEAKER_00: And it’s a perfect creek.
[0:29:41 – 0:29:47] Erik: This late in the year, we are leery of creeks and their record of low water, but Cuddy Creek is plenty full.
[0:29:49 – 0:29:58] Erik: A dense thicket of still yellow tamaracks crowd the creek, protecting us from bothersome winds and providing an enchanted scene.
[0:30:00 – 0:30:02] Erik: As we creep along, my mind wanders.
[0:30:05 – 0:30:08] Erik: I love mysterious dark forests.
[0:30:09 – 0:30:11] Erik: They conjure fantastical images.
[0:30:13 – 0:30:22] Erik: Somewhere in that abyss lies a tiny cottage enveloped in mats of dangling mosses and moisture.
[0:30:24 – 0:30:28] Erik: A crooked chimney aims a wisp of curling smoke toward the treetops.
[0:30:30 – 0:30:35] Erik: Behind a round, golden window hangs a flickering lantern.
[0:30:42 – 0:30:44] Erik: Inside, the air is heavy with aroma.
[0:30:45 – 0:30:59] Erik: Warm vestiges of cedar and spruce dominate the senses, including heavy eyes, a want for the overstuffed easy chair next to the wood stove, and a steaming cup of tea.
[0:31:01 – 0:31:04] Erik: A cold slap of wind jars my mind back to reality.
[0:31:06 – 0:31:11] Erik: A crew exits the protection of Cuddy and plods once more into our foe.
[0:31:15 – 0:31:15] Erik: Eeg?
[0:31:16 – 0:31:16] Erik: Eeg?
[0:31:16 – 0:31:18] Erik: E-A-G. Eeg Lake.
[0:31:19 – 0:31:23] Erik: Maybe one of the worst named lakes in both the Boundaries and Quetico.
[0:31:23 – 0:31:29] Erik: E-A-G. Eeg Lake fortunately turns us to the north and easier paddling.
[0:31:31 – 0:31:37] Erik: A lack of campsites and rugged portages suggests this route is rarely traveled.
[0:31:37 – 0:31:38] SPEAKER_00: Hmm.
[0:31:39 – 0:31:43] Erik: We have intelligence that advocates for setting up on a nice site on Camel Lake.
[0:31:44 – 0:31:52] Erik: It puts our minds at ease knowing a site exists, since we have been deceived in the most infuriating way two days prior.
[0:31:52 – 0:31:55] Erik: The remaining portion of Cuddy Creek is again captivating.
[0:31:57 – 0:32:07] Erik: Around every bend we flushed dozens of waterfall, where ganzers, mallards, and the occasional Canadian goose flee as we approach.
[0:32:10 – 0:32:16] Erik: The advice we received on Camel and its campsite was correct, as we find it more than adequate.
[0:32:17 – 0:32:25] Erik: It is a nice flat point facing west, nestled amongst old-growth white pines, some of the largest we have seen yet.
[0:32:27 – 0:32:32] Erik: Plenty of cedar is secured and we dine on fresh pesto and biscuits.
[0:32:33 – 0:32:37] Erik: The weather robot predicts rain, so we pitch tents.
[0:32:40 – 0:32:48] Erik: As the silence of the night fills me with calm, I return to my cabin in the hollow and fall asleep next to the fire.
[0:32:53 – 0:32:54] Erik: October 8th.
[0:33:03 – 0:33:14] Erik: Considering the rain forecast, the tough days leading up to now, and the desire to fish, we decide to make it a shorter day.
[0:33:16 – 0:33:21] Erik: Scripture Island on Sturgeon is our easily attainable goal.
[0:33:23 – 0:33:30] Erik: We begin the day as we have the past four, under decidedly complete gray skies.
[0:33:31 – 0:33:34] Erik: The map shows four portages between us and Fred Lake.
[0:33:35 – 0:33:39] Erik: At this point in the life of Cuddy Creek, its waters are much diminished.
[0:33:40 – 0:33:50] Erik: The first marked portage turns into two, and our ankles are put through the rigors of traversing algae-covered rocks of a drained narrows.
[0:33:52 – 0:33:59] Erik: The portage out of Nan Lake is there, but so is an unmarked second portage around a set of dry rapids.
[0:34:02 – 0:34:08] Erik: We portage four times when expecting to portage twice, and it makes everyone angry.
[0:34:09 – 0:34:14] Erik: The landings are littered with unstable rocks and muck warming the blood even further.
[0:34:16 – 0:34:26] Erik: As we cross the second to last marked portage, Tori takes a spill and slams her kneecap into exposed rock and it starts raining.
[0:34:29 – 0:34:31] Erik: Tempers are close to boiling over at this point.
[0:34:32 – 0:34:34] Erik: It has been a slow and irritating start to the day.
[0:34:36 – 0:34:44] Erik: Standing on an expansive beach on the south side of Fred Lake, we celebrate our final release from the vexing grasp of Cuddy Creek.
[0:34:45 – 0:34:48] Erik: We can hardly anticipate the trials still waiting for us.
[0:34:50 – 0:34:53] Erik: The precipitation is in constant flux.
[0:34:54 – 0:34:56] Erik: One moment, it is barely noticeable.
[0:34:56 – 0:35:01] Erik: The next, it drives into us, determined to soak us to the bone.
[0:35:02 – 0:35:07] Erik: Our boats thread the narrows between Fred and Heron Bay and out into Sturgeon Lake proper.
[0:35:09 – 0:35:18] Erik: It is early in the day yet, and the rain still ambivalent, so we decide to press on to Scripture Island, past Scripture Island.
[0:35:19 – 0:35:23] Erik: This means we have two more portages if we want to camp on Lonely Lake.
[0:35:25 – 0:35:31] Erik: A downpour ensues as we reach the first of two portages, again moods sour.
[0:35:32 – 0:35:37] Erik: After two short, steep climbs up to an unnamed creek, we stop for lunch.
[0:35:39 – 0:35:43] Erik: Huddled under a clump of spruce trees, we enjoy peanut butter and Nutella tortillas.
[0:35:45 – 0:35:46] SPEAKER_00: Nobody says anything.
[0:35:46 – 0:35:47] SPEAKER_00: We’re soaked.
[0:35:50 – 0:35:54] Erik: Slick, angled rocks invite us for a swim at the landing.
[0:35:55 – 0:35:57] Erik: We decided better to load canoes and be on our way.
[0:35:58 – 0:36:02] Erik: The halfway point of the creek is blocked by a two-foot-high beaver dam.
[0:36:05 – 0:36:08] Erik: I sigh as our canoe slams into it.
[0:36:09 – 0:36:10] Erik: Tori hops out.
[0:36:11 – 0:36:17] Erik: I scramble over packs and we both lug the canoe filled with packs up and over.
[0:36:17 – 0:36:19] Erik: Then Tori scrambles back up to the bow.
[0:36:20 – 0:36:23] Erik: This is a skill we would continue to master throughout the coming weeks.
[0:36:25 – 0:36:30] Erik: As the canoe slides out into high water, I jump in and try giving us one more shove off.
[0:36:33 – 0:36:35] Erik: My foot hunts for something solid.
[0:36:35 – 0:36:37] Erik: Finding nothing, it searches deeper.
[0:36:38 – 0:36:40] Erik: Then my knee starts looking.
[0:36:41 – 0:36:46] Erik: From the depths, my leg yells out, Hey, I think that arm should come down here and help look.
[0:36:47 – 0:36:49] Erik: And send Tori down here while you’re at it.
[0:36:51 – 0:36:56] Erik: The canoe lurches to the left, quickly we adjust, and send it wobbling back to the right.
[0:36:57 – 0:37:05] Erik: Our gunwale kisses the rain-pocked surface of the creek, and for an instant I picture us floundering in the bottomless, squalid muck.
[0:37:06 – 0:37:12] Erik: As the canoe comes back level, Tori turns and offers a glare that threatens my manhood.
[0:37:14 – 0:37:16] Erik: All I can offer in return is, whoops.
[0:37:18 – 0:37:27] Erik: Through pouring rain, we press on, climb over the last portage, and start probing for someplace high and dry to lay our heads.
[0:37:29 – 0:37:34] Erik: We deem the first sight unworthy and head out into the open part of the lake.
[0:37:35 – 0:37:39] Erik: Considering the relentless rain, Lonely Lake is stunning.
[0:37:40 – 0:37:48] Erik: An ominous dark blue wall of clouds quickly wheels up from the southwest and catches us off guard.
[0:37:49 – 0:37:53] Erik: Swiftly, our tranquil, albeit wet, scene turns to chaos.
[0:37:54 – 0:37:58] Erik: White caps materialize in minutes and the rain becomes a torrent.
[0:37:59 – 0:38:00] Erik: We need to find a site.
[0:38:01 – 0:38:08] Erik: Our two diminutive boats move towards the north shore where the fisher map promises campsites…
[0:38:09 – 0:38:11] Erik: Only one site is found.
[0:38:12 – 0:38:16] Erik: Closer scrutiny reveals it could not possibly provide us with safe shelter.
[0:38:18 – 0:38:25] Erik: Most of the already flooded site rests on a barren spit of Canadian shield that juts out into the whipping elements.
[0:38:27 – 0:38:28] Erik: It seems like a nice summer spot.
[0:38:30 – 0:38:32] Erik: Everybody wants to stop, but we can’t.
[0:38:33 – 0:38:38] Erik: The waves are lumbering masses now, making the last mile of the day the most harrowing.
[0:38:40 – 0:38:44] Erik: We are relieved to find a tolerable spot on the last point of the lake.
[0:38:45 – 0:38:51] Erik: If it had not existed, our weary group would have been forced to press on into dimming wilderness.
[0:38:51 – 0:38:54] Erik: Attempting two more portages, a scary thought.
[0:38:56 – 0:38:59] Erik: Hastily, we pitch camp in the unyielding deluge.
[0:39:00 – 0:39:03] Erik: I plunge into the dripping forest, hoping for dry wood.
[0:39:04 – 0:39:11] Erik: My rain gear had kept me mostly dry up to this point, but slogging through this water park proves to be their breaking point.
[0:39:12 – 0:39:15] Erik: Every time I bump a tree, it dumps gallons of water on me.
[0:39:16 – 0:39:21] Erik: By the time I return with a few scraps of wood, it looks as if I’ve been for a swim.
[0:39:23 – 0:39:24] Erik: I’m soaked to the skin.
[0:39:25 – 0:39:34] Erik: The previous occupants of this modest site were thoughtful enough to leave behind a nice stack of wood underneath the bench next to the fireplace.
[0:39:35 – 0:39:41] Erik: With the mostly dry wood, we light a fire and actually start drying out one layer at a time.
[0:39:43 – 0:39:49] Erik: After finishing rice and beans with kielbasa, exhaustion hits us like a wet wool blanket.
[0:39:51 – 0:39:54] Erik: The rain recedes slightly as we unzip sleeping bags.
[0:39:56 – 0:39:58] Erik: They’re the only dry place for miles.
[0:40:02 – 0:40:03] Erik: October 9th.
[0:40:07 – 0:40:17] Erik: Cold winds usher out the rain overnight and we unpack, sorry, and we pack up under low hanging clouds.
[0:40:18 – 0:40:25] Erik: The featureless gray ceiling of clouds we have become accustomed to begin breaking up and the seemingly unsympathetic sun appears.
[0:40:27 – 0:40:30] Erik: Our damp crew heads north towards our first portage.
[0:40:32 – 0:40:35] Erik: Multiple beaver dams are overcome before we reach the actual portage.
[0:40:37 – 0:40:44] Erik: I am happy to deal with them in daylight instead of the gloom we would have surely fumbled through last night had we not found a site.
[0:40:47 – 0:40:53] Erik: We haul over into Walter Lake and elude increasing winds by paddling the shadows of steep shorelines.
[0:40:56 – 0:41:01] Erik: Walter’s black waters open up, and we are forced to then deal with the wind.
[0:41:02 – 0:41:04] Erik: Carefully, we quarter into northwest breezes.
[0:41:05 – 0:41:09] Erik: Nefarious dark blobs whirl out of the horizon and spit bitter drizzle at us.
[0:41:10 – 0:41:13] Erik: It seems like it’s becoming a bit of a trend.
[0:41:15 – 0:41:21] Erik: Throughout the day, we work to stay ahead of capricious skies, constantly doffing and donning rain gear.
[0:41:23 – 0:41:32] Erik: After a short carry into Elizabeth, we reach the 740-meter portage into Jesse, the longest since our struggle through the quagmire south of Trant Lake.
[0:41:34 – 0:41:42] Erik: The well-worn track winds through open stands of jack pine and up and over numerous slight hills before opening up into an expansive beach.
[0:41:44 – 0:41:46] Erik: Obviously wolves use it more than humans.
[0:41:47 – 0:41:52] Erik: A dozen picturesque islands provide shelter and we easily paddle up Jesse.
[0:41:54 – 0:41:56] Erik: The portage into Maria is immaculate.
[0:41:57 – 0:42:02] Erik: Portions of it have been built up with gravel and channels for drainage.
[0:42:03 – 0:42:05] Erik: It is clear we are getting close to the edge of the park now.
[0:42:08 – 0:42:13] Erik: After a short paddle and a shorter portage, we drop packs on the shores of Pickerel Lake.
[0:42:14 – 0:42:18] Erik: Temperatures have been dropping all day, and the drizzle turns to snow.
[0:42:20 – 0:42:26] Erik: The snow squalls pick up in frequency and intensity, making for painful progress.
[0:42:28 – 0:42:30] Erik: A nasty one rears up as we turn west.
[0:42:32 – 0:42:35] Erik: Our red, bare hands are easy prey for the biting gusts.
[0:42:36 – 0:42:40] Erik: Whizzing chunks of slush sting the face and jab our eyes.
[0:42:42 – 0:42:43] Erik: I can barely look up.
[0:42:45 – 0:42:48] Erik: We find our way into Batchawang Narrows and gain some respite.
[0:42:50 – 0:43:00] Erik: The idea we would make it up to Nim Lake disappears with the sun and the sight of hulking whitecaps blanketing the surface of Batchawong Bay.
[0:43:01 – 0:43:03] Erik: We’ll be lucky to make it much farther at all.
[0:43:05 – 0:43:14] Erik: We linger long enough for the squall to taper, making our move and swiftly work towards the closest island.
[0:43:15 – 0:43:22] Erik: The cry for a fleece glove from our red aching hands is ignored as we thrust paddles out of necessity into the frosty water.
[0:43:23 – 0:43:25] SPEAKER_00: Try not to dwell on the pain.
[0:43:27 – 0:43:33] Erik: As soon as our canoe reaches the leeward side of the island, we shove stiff fingers into armpits and double over.
[0:43:34 – 0:43:40] Erik: After warming our throbbing hands slightly, we move on down the shore and find a campsite.
[0:43:42 – 0:43:52] Erik: Half of the site is exposed, but the back half offers much needed protection from the bracing gales and the thickets surrounding the site are choked with dead downed trees.
[0:43:54 – 0:43:57] Erik: Considering the strenuous day, we seem set up for a pleasant night.
[0:43:59 – 0:44:04] Erik: Northwest winds pick up during our stir-fried dinner and the snow starts accumulating.
[0:44:07 – 0:44:13] Erik: I take one last look at an increasingly wintry scene as I draw the zipper on the tent and dream in color.
[0:44:15 – 0:44:21] Erik: Golden reflections of emerald and cerulean loom over a tiny white canoe.
[0:44:22 – 0:44:31] Erik: Beneath a cloudless sky, it drifts toward a warm horizon where it teeters a second before sinking with the sun.
[0:44:36 – 0:44:37] Erik: October 10.
[0:44:38 – 0:44:43] Erik: Noticeably calmer winds and colder temperatures greet us as we wake.
[0:44:45 – 0:44:47] Erik: Heavy frost encases everything.
[0:44:48 – 0:44:57] Erik: As the weakening sun pokes through the tree line, we stoke a fire and decide to leave camp set up while we spend two days in Atacocan.
[0:44:58 – 0:45:02] Erik: This allows for a quicker departure and soon we are moving easily into light headwinds.
[0:45:04 – 0:45:11] Erik: The sun breaks free of the horizon into a sky filled with tiny gray wisps, which rarely diminish its full potential.
[0:45:13 – 0:45:23] Erik: It has been a week since the sun has warmed our backs, and the glorious natural warmth encourages us to move consciously towards the only portage of the day.
[0:45:25 – 0:45:33] Erik: Minds reflect and stomachs yearn as we coast towards the completion of the first leg of our journey in Poutine Deluxe.
[0:45:35 – 0:45:40] Erik: The portage out of Batchawan is heavily dusted with glittering snow.
[0:45:41 – 0:45:45] Erik: An uncontrollable smile creeps across my face as I climb towards Nim Lake.
[0:45:46 – 0:45:49] Erik: There is a curious magic in portaging through a white wilderness.
[0:45:51 – 0:45:56] Erik: Invigorated, we make double time across the cabin-blemished shoreline of Nim.
[0:45:56 – 0:45:59] Erik: I don’t know about blemished at this point.
[0:45:59 – 0:46:02] Erik: They were actually kind of cute and seemed like they fit right in, Eric.
[0:46:04 – 0:46:10] Erik: The whole time our eyes are locked on a blurry green and white sign that I know is the landing.
[0:46:13 – 0:46:17] Erik: We know we’ve made it when finally our eyes discern the mystic word.
[0:46:20 – 0:46:27] Erik: Canoes are stashed, and we begin following a faint yellow stripe down the middle of a long-neglected public access road.
[0:46:28 – 0:46:34] Erik: Soon, it deposits us next to a bullet-hole-riddled stop sign on the Trans-Canadian Highway.
[0:46:36 – 0:46:47] Erik: We drop our packs and paddles on the shoulder as a bulky logging truck roars by, drawing with it a swirling cloud of freshly fallen snow.
[0:46:49 – 0:46:59] Erik: A Wednesday morning is apparently not the best time to try and hitch a ride in the middle of Ontario as we stare down an empty highway in both directions for 20 minutes.
[0:47:01 – 0:47:08] Erik: Just as we start thinking about walking the 11 miles, the first truck to pass stops.
[0:47:10 – 0:47:16] Erik: Synthetic warmth oozes out of the passenger window as he asks us where we’re heading.
[0:47:17 – 0:47:18] Erik: At a Coke and of course.
[0:47:20 – 0:47:26] Erik: We hop into his cozy cab and within a minute are hurtling dizzyingly past a blurring landscape.
[0:47:27 – 0:47:37] Erik: A bit of small talk reveals that the hydroelectric plant, who knew, is currently being overhauled by men and women from across this great province.
[0:47:38 – 0:47:49] Erik: As we swing into the insipid outskirts of Atacocan, I wonder what effect an influx of non-native construction workers will have on the availability of rooms in the few hotel rooms.
[0:47:50 – 0:47:59] Erik: Quickly, we realize it is having a total effect as the words no vacancy glower from every hotel window in town.
[0:48:01 – 0:48:06] Erik: I have never seen moods shift from resplendent to despondent so swiftly.
[0:48:07 – 0:48:19] Erik: We ask our gracious chauffeur to drop us at the outdoorsman cafe, where we can at the very least accomplish packing our gullets to capacity with poutine deluxe.
[0:48:21 – 0:48:32] Erik: For most corn-fed Yankees, the term poutine might conjure images of peculiar colored bits of what appears to be food meticulously arranged atop pure white plates.
[0:48:33 – 0:48:40] Erik: Thin, artsy swirls of orange crisscross the square plate, making the whole meal even more befuddling.
[0:48:41 – 0:48:50] Erik: This surely is one of the very few plates of food in an American’s life that would cause them to stop and ask, how do I eat this?
[0:48:51 – 0:48:59] Erik: Poutine Deluxe is the opposite of all that, and I cannot comprehend how this meal is not an institution in the States as it is in Canada.
[0:49:00 – 0:49:07] Erik: Essentially, poutine is gravy on fries, or as the outdoorsman sees it, fries in gravy.
[0:49:08 – 0:49:13] Erik: What makes it deluxe is the addition of ground beef, onions, tomatoes, and shredded cheese.
[0:49:14 – 0:49:20] Erik: This makes a meal that one could not possibly find peculiar or confusing to eat.
[0:49:21 – 0:49:25] Erik: The only question you’ll ask is how to acquire more and where a napkin is.
[0:49:28 – 0:49:30] Erik: The gorging on poutine distracts us briefly.
[0:49:32 – 0:49:36] Erik: We come to terms with our dire situation over bloated abdomens.
[0:49:37 – 0:49:41] Erik: At 2pm we find ourselves four hours removed from our beds in a bedless town.
[0:49:43 – 0:49:50] Erik: A town that would typically be ecstatic to give away a hotel room to an itinerant wolf is apparently and vexingly booked solid.
[0:49:51 – 0:49:55] Erik: Either we need to force a retreat back to camp immediately or find a bed.
[0:49:57 – 0:50:04] Erik: The only other place in this godforsaken town I can imagine offering us a repose is Canoe Canada Outfitters.
[0:50:04 – 0:50:10] Erik: While the others come to terms with the onslaught of gravy, I totter uptown towards a faint possibility.
[0:50:12 – 0:50:19] Erik: From a block away, I can see stacks of canoes, parked transport vans, and boarded doors and windows.
[0:50:20 – 0:50:23] Erik: Being this late in the season, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were closed.
[0:50:24 – 0:50:27] SPEAKER_00: But fortunately, the plywood door opens.
[0:50:29 – 0:50:36] Erik: Obviously, they are not up to full operational status, with stacked boxes of merchandise and cleaning materials blocking the entrance.
[0:50:36 – 0:50:49] Erik: After a brief explanation of my sordid cruise desperate situation, the owner and operator, Jim, who seems as shocked as we at the lack of rooms in town, offers us a bunkhouse for the night.
[0:50:50 – 0:50:53] Erik: I almost jump and click my heels twice together.
[0:50:54 – 0:50:55] Erik: Successful!
[0:50:55 – 0:50:59] Erik: I strut back to my gravy-laden comrades and break the news.
[0:51:01 – 0:51:13] Erik: Our glorious moods return and we spend the rest of the day resupplying in leisure, guzzling Canadian lagers and returning to the outdoorsman for massive pizza, knowing warm, dry beds await us at the end of the day.
[0:51:14 – 0:51:26] Erik: Through the foggy window of our eerily empty bunkhouse, I stare at the orange glow of a single streetlight illuminating the blowing sleet and ruminate.
[0:51:28 – 0:51:35] Erik: I find myself fortunate to be in this warm, wooden building full of wool blankets, hot showers, and mattresses.
[0:51:37 – 0:51:39] Erik: But also, I can’t wait to leave.
[0:51:41 – 0:51:49] Erik: Atakokan in October helps one appreciate the untouched wilds of Quetico more than any city I’ve ever visited.
[0:51:51 – 0:51:53] Erik: Our adventure up to this point has been just that.
[0:51:54 – 0:52:03] Erik: It has been filled with daring and exciting moments, unusual and hazardous moments, character-elucidating moments.
[0:52:04 – 0:52:06] Erik: Enthusiastically, I anticipate more
[0:52:09 – 0:52:09] Erik: It’s why we’re here.
[0:52:17 – 0:52:19] Erik: All right.
[0:52:19 – 0:52:21] Erik: One week in the bag.
[0:52:23 – 0:52:23] Erik: Quetico.
[0:52:24 – 0:52:25] Erik: A month.
[0:52:26 – 0:52:27] Erik: And that’s just one week.
[0:52:28 – 0:52:35] Erik: Thank you for joining me, Eric, in this attempt to stave off madness.
[0:52:37 – 0:52:38] Erik: Reading old trip journals.
[0:52:39 – 0:52:41] Erik: Thinking of better times on the water.
[0:52:42 – 0:52:43] SPEAKER_00: The sounds of birds.
[0:52:44 – 0:52:45] Erik: Wind in the trees.
[0:52:46 – 0:52:48] SPEAKER_00: The smell of cedar smoke in the air.
[0:52:50 – 0:52:51] Erik: That’s what we’re doing.
[0:52:52 – 0:52:55] Erik: Yeah, I don’t know when the next part of this will be out.
[0:52:56 – 0:53:04] Erik: In conjunction with the main episodes that are coming out with me and Adam.
[0:53:05 – 0:53:07] Erik: This has just been Eric.
[0:53:07 – 0:53:08] Erik: Thank you for listening.
[0:53:09 – 0:53:12] Erik: Happy Thoughts of Padman.
[0:53:12 – 0:53:13] UNKNOWN: Good night.
[0:53:31 – 0:53:57] SPEAKER_00: Is flicking dimly up on the screen I can’t see the lines I used to think I could read between Perhaps my brains have turned to sand Oh me, oh my I think it’s been an eternity
[0:54:00 – 0:54:16] SPEAKER_00: You’d be surprised At my degree of uncertainty How can moments go so slow?
[0:54:16 – 0:54:26] SPEAKER_00: Several times I’ve seen the evening slide away Watching the signs
[0:54:27 – 0:54:30] SPEAKER_00: Taking over from the fading day.
[0:54:32 – 0:54:40] SPEAKER_00: Perhaps my brains are old and scrambled.
