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Chapter 6 – It’s the Pits to Grow Old…but it doesn’t mean there are no adventures left!
My buddy Tom and I went for a ski into the Boundary Waters last week to do some winter fishing. A very typical day for us.
He drove to my place and was here by 7:00. Loaded everything into my truck, stopped at the bait shop going through town and was to the entry point by 8:00.
The trek in was about two miles and were fishing by 8:45. Could have stopped fishing with a limit by 10:00, but the day was nice, and we were choosy about what we kept. Built a fire, had lunch, drank coffee and chased tip-up flags until after 3:00. Skied out and returned to my place where we visited with Beth for a bit and then he was off to go back home.
I’m sure we’ve done this a hundred times before!
However, on our ride back the subject came up about how these trips have changed a bit over the years. “In the old days, we’d have made this a trip all the way to Basswood and back without thinking twice about it”. Instead of our two-mile journey, Hoist Bay would have been five miles.
Instead of arriving at my place at 7:00, it would have been 5:30.
The day was nice, but even if the thermometer had said –20F, in the old days we would have gone. Age indeed, is catching up with us!
And still, it was an adventure!
We spent a beautiful day in the back country doing something we both love. The companionship and conversation were the same as it’s always been. Fishing was fantastic. Our allowed limit was the same and the slot size was more favorable than if we’d gone up to Basswood. We encountered no one – had the place to ourselves. The smell of wood smoke was unchanged and the excitement of feeling a tug on the other end of a fishing line felt as it always had. I noticed just the right degree of tiredness on the way home and slept well that night. A successful day!
It got me to thinking about other modifications I’ve had to make as I’ve approached the 72nd journey around the sun. Take canoes, for example. I’ve only had one trip where a wood and canvas came into play, but aluminum canoes were the only game in town during my younger years. A standard Grumman 17’ weighed 72 pounds. I would throw that up like it was a feather! It was a big deal when Alumacraft came out with their “light” canoe at 68 pounds.
I have a 17’ foot square-stern that comes in at the mid-80’s and have even shouldered a 19-square over portages into Burke and Sunday Lakes. I tried some Royalex canoes that weighed more than their aluminum counterparts.
When Kevlar came along, most of us locals laughed at the “yuppie” canoes. In reality, it’s been a game-saver. My 42-pound tandem and 38-pound solo have allowed me to continue my travels into the Boundary Waters for years after the old Grumman would have limited me.
I can remember standing in water to my knees at the end of a portage, grabbing a #4 canvas Duluth pack loaded with tent, sleeping bags, sleeping pads and clothes and hoisting it from the canoe onto my back. Then, flip the aluminum canoe to my shoulders and head off down the portage – not stopping until I reached the other end. Last spring I went on a Quetico trip for eleven days. At the first portage, I threw on my day pack, leaned over to pick up my Kevlar canoe and as I tried to flip it, lost my balance and fell headfirst between the thwarts! How embarrassing! The time has come to make more trips with lighter packs across each portage.
In the old days, the weather never deterred us. Rain, cold, snow, wind – merely trivial things to overcome while we were out.
These days we look for “windows” of weather that will make our time more enjoyable and reduce the number of tarps, warm clothes and other survival gear we may need to pack. Wind more than ten mph? Pick another day.
Rain chance 40%? Ah, maybe tomorrow will be better. Forecast says fifteen below? Let’s wait for a warmer stretch!
As a young man, I didn’t think extensively about potential problems. I felt comfortable about my skills and that I could overcome any issue I might encounter. I would scoff at what others might be concerned about while I was out of touch in the wilderness.
That has changed. Even day trips can present obstacles I didn’t have before. My balance isn’t as good.
I’m not as strong as I used to be.
I trip over small things that never bothered me before. It takes more time to accomplish things. I travel now with a Garmin InReach. It gives me some reassurance and allows my friends and family to know that I’m doing all right in my travels.
Trip length and distances have slowly been reduced. Instead of five days, three may be enough.
Instead of going to Crooked, Horse Lake might be a destination. Instead of planning for making fifteen miles a day, five might suffice. A seven-day trip of fifty miles and 25 portages might become twenty-five miles and 5 portages. My biggest single day records? Almost fifty miles of paddling. Had one trip where we made sixteen portages in one day. No more!
Equipment has changed – mostly for the better. Tents have become lighter. Cooking stoves more compact.
Cook kits of titanium rather than aluminum. Duluth packs of waterproof material instead of canvas and with padded shoulder straps that are more comfortable.
Paddles are now incredibly light and strong. Canoe yokes have evolved. Even my new Silky Big Boy camp saw is an improvement. While fresh food is still what I like best, dehydrated fare has gotten much more palatable. All these advancements make it easier for someone past the age of 65 to continue to get into the woods.
My point is, I can’t do what I used to. That doesn’t mean I’m doomed to the easy chair to read books and stare out the window.
There are still many days to spend in the back country. Modifying time, distance, route and destination can easily work into an adventure worth taking. I find that I appreciate the little things of a trip even more. Gathering firewood used to be a nuisance necessity. Now, it is and explore! I find many interesting rocks, plants and critters as I’m gleaning the shoreline for beaverwood. Subtle fragrances abound where I didn’t notice them before. I can spend time watching an eagle soar, or an osprey hover over an unsuspecting fish. A mink searching for its next meal along a shoreline can mesmerize me. Finding a dragon’s mouth orchid unexpectedly is a delight. Reading a book on the lee side of an island while sitting in the sun gives me a warmth not found anywhere else. Reading the sky at night or watching the aurora dance still mystifies me. Even a lightning storm in the distance can be a wonder and not a threat.
With the confines of a trip becoming smaller, I find that I am more jealous of my special places than I used to be. I remember one time coming in from a trip and putting a canoe on my pickup rack in the parking lot at Snowbank Lake. A small car with a solo canoe on top pulled up beside me and a middle-aged lady emerged to greet me. After a bit of small talk about where we’d been, she said this to me: “I’m from the Cities and I come up to the Boundary Waters every year. I travel by myself, and my friends are always concerned about me. I’ve always gone down the Lake One chain, but I’d like to find some new country. Do you know of any places to go that are only a portage or two in, where I won’t find any people?”
My reply was: “Yes, I do.
But if I told everyone I met in a parking lot where those places were, they wouldn’t stay that way for long”.
She became very angry with me and left in a huff. Maybe that wasn’t a sociable answer, but I didn’t feel bad about it. Tell me if I’m wrong.
I am fortunate to be able to still get out and enjoy the outdoors as much as I do. Many of my contemporaries are not as lucky. I must appreciate every day spent wandering my beloved boreal forest. Each trip is a gift, and though not as extensive as they used to be, still brings the same joys I have experienced my whole life.
