Trout on the Border Route

“I want to go to the Boundary Waters with you,” Nicole (my girlfriend of 4 months) asked. It was the best thing she ever requested. Without batting an eye I spouted, “Of course I’ll take ya!”

My mind wandered to lakes I’ve visited and ones I’d like to explore. Which would be ideal for a first timer? The trail of thought led me to my first time. It was a family trip with our neighbors. All of us were first timers except for our neighbor – who had been guiding up there since he was a kid.

To our dismay, the trip was during a summer deluge. The portages were either slick mud or like wet concrete that’ll pull off a pair of knee high boots with each step. Despite the great fishing and wild blueberry pancakes each morning, my mom and sister vowed to never go again.

Years later, I went on a different trip to Basswood. Horizontal winds picked up two aluminum canoes that an Outfitter was about to strap down to their trailer at the landing. We paddled through 4-foot rollers until my buddies canoe flipped – marking the end of our travels for that day. It was excruciating.

Weather dictates everything up there, especially via canoe. Nicole wanted our trip booked over Memorial Weekend. Every Minnesotan will tell you how unpredictable the weather is at that time of year: reminiscing of snow, sleet, hail, torrential downpours, and/or all of the above.

No one wants to be caught in any of those – especially while in a canoe and exponentially true for a first timer. This is why I thought to avoid the water by going on a hiking trip instead; it could be a great introduction to Nicole and also my three year old British lab, Jacie.

I scooped up a map from North Country Trail and got some information from my buddy, who had hiked the trail a couple of years prior with his wife. He mentioned most of the area was windblown west of South Lake. Being that the Border Route Trail is maintained by volunteers, there’s a chance that travel would be rough.

We set out of Rockwood Lodge up the Gunflint with the plan to take it easy – hiking 6 miles a day. They forewarned us that they had a storm that passed through a couple of days before that may have caused more blowdown. To our chagrin, all three campsites within the 6-mile plan suffered from the blowdown from the storm.

“Sorry, Babe, but we’re going to have to put our big boy and girl pants on and hoof it another 6 miles to the next campsite along the trail. Let’s have an early lunch now to put some calories in our system.”

“No problem!” she exuded.

The hiking was incredible. Vistas were sprinkled in to give stunning views – something you just don’t see at water level from a canoe. We took water breaks on their precipices to soak in the scenery. The trail was pretty well groomed, considering it was maintained by volunteers – not the US Forest Service.

We came across a group of these trail volunteers on our descent to the next campsite. Hand saws and loppers were all they had in their hands – nothing can be up there (not even chainsaws). Nicole and I both graciously applauded their efforts and mentioned what happened to the previous campsites we came across. The smiles on their faces said it all – it’d be handled in no time.

This was good for future hikers. The reason is, campsite availability is far less than I had imagined; I didn’t know that canoeists had accessibility to the same ones – making it even more competitive over the holiday weekend. Thankfully we slipped into that next campsite in nick of time; a group of four hikers passed through our site just as I was laying down our tent’s rainfly.

It was 5 PM and they had another 6 miles to get to the nearest campsite that wasn’t even accessible to them due to the blowdown. Needless to say, we felt for them after they declined our offer to share the site.

The next morning was taken casually – we only had 5 more miles until our loop was done. As we sipped our coffee with some biscuits and gravy we were greeted by two guys already on the move. They mentioned all campsites East were taken so they were forced to camp overnight on the trail – yikes!

Relief was setting in. With such a small hike ahead of us, our options were to stop at any of the next three campsites along the way (if one freed up) or just finish out our loop prematurely (not ideal, but at least Nicole got a quick taste of the Boundary Waters).

I desperately wanted her to spend one more day in it, though. The first campsite we came across was taken. The second one…taken.

“Well, we’ve got one more,” I grimaced. “Don’t worry, this has still been a beautiful trip and look at Jacie (as she pranced around ahead of us on the trail), she’s loving it up here!” she consoled. “Excellent – my only hope is that you enjoy this country. It’s given me so much life over the years. It’ll test ya physically and mentally – yesterday dealt you that hand, unfortunately – but it’ll also heal and restore ya more than anything else can.”

I lead us at a slower pace to soak in the last lake of our hike: Daniels. When our feet took us to our hiking loop’s last campsite, they both bounded for joy (it was vacant!), then slow danced into the night.

Calm settled in that evening. A lake trout I caught earlier from shore accompanied the pops from the pine bough campfire. “MMMMM, sooo good,” Nicole mumbled out during her first bite. “Now you really know the fullness of it up here – fresh fish over the campfire. And not a single bug bite this whole trip to boot!” I smiled.

The loons would sing us to sleep with our bellies full. There on Daniels we were healed and restored. “I can’t wait to do this again next year,” she said before dozing off to sleep. “Neither can I,” I assured with a kiss on her forehead. It’s been on the calendar ever since.

Written by Chad Fix of Sota Boy Adventures

Categorised in: Blog, Fishing