Casa Blanca: September 2013

Rusty really did retire from playing bass at the end of June, however he made an exception for our dear friends in the dinner group.

Rusty puts on a short performance and answers questions about playing bass.

Linda and Kathie show their delight.

We've been home from our fall Boundary Waters trip for almost ten days, so it's time to get the blog updated.
Our latest trip was our most challenging trip. We were in the wilderness for five nights and six days. The total distance we covered was 60 miles. We walked (portaged) 13.8 miles, and 9.25 of those miles we were carrying at least 40 pounds each.

Our route is marked in red. We shuttled cars so that we could enter in Moose River and exit in Little Indian Sioux River.

Preparing our new canoe for the trip, Rusty carved a carrying yoke to replace the factory yoke. The new yoke is actually lighter than the commercial model and requires no added pads for comfort.


Here the yoke is shown positioned on the shaving horse. One of the chisels used in carving the yoke is visible.

The finished yoke, contoured to fit our shoulders, is installed in our new canoe.

We set up a new camp in a new location each of our five nights, and broke camp each morning.

Paddling ahead of us, our guide Steve is leading the way on day one as we paddle north on Moose River.

Di carrying one of the lighter packs, less than her usual burden of 40-50 pounds.

When we get into camp, we find a place to store the canoe so winds won't send it adrift.

Happy to be at camp after a long day.

Searching the "bear vault" for food.

Does this look like a good spot to catch a fish?

Rusty caught a nice Northern in that very spot.

The second day we paddled along the Canadian border.

This is Warrior Hill on the Canadian side of Lac La Croix. The young warriors had to prove themselves by racing up the hill. It's much steeper than it looks in this picture.

Hand prints, warriors and moose can be seen in these pictographs near Warrior Hill. The experts believe the pictographs were made by Native Americans or the French Voyageurs who traveled these waters hundreds of years ago. This primitive art form is most prevalent along the Border Route, the large lakes along the U.S./Canada border.

Beaver lodge. We get much of our firewood from inactive lodges.

Beautiful weather for paddling! Notice the sun shining through the hull of our new light-weight Kevlar canoe.

Steve filleted more wonderful fish for supper.

Rusty scours frying pan after a fish dinner.

The end of another beautiful day!

A few weeks before we arrived, a destructive thunderstorm went through the area downing large trees across the portages. The storm was recent enough that the "portage crews" had not yet come to the area with their two-person, crosscut saws and axes (no chain saws or other modern devices allowed in the BWCAW) to clear the portages.

Some fallen trees were close to the ground. The girth of this tree made it challenging with a heavy pack.

This tree was higher and I thought I could crawl under it. Wrong. My pack and I got stuck.

So many obstacles!

After such an arduous 200 rod portage, it was a relief to have only a few small lakes to traverse before setting up camp for the evening.

With the threat of rain, we erected a tarp to keep gear dry.

Di saws wood to be used for the evening's and the next morning's fires.

Rusty enjoys happy hour while sitting on a "bench" at the "picnic table". Anything beyond "sit-logs" near the fire grate is very rare.

One morning we had a heavy mist. The mist and sun combined to make the little spider webs look like flowers.

Steve picked wild cranberries and I added them to my oatmeal. Yum!

Doesn't quite look real, does it.


Lily pads everywhere.

Getting over a beaver dam without falling through or breaking a canoe is tricky business. Despite that, I was able to get to my camera and snap a picture.

I am out of the picture, standing and balancing on the beaver dam, while Rusty positions the canoe so he can join me standing on the dam. At that point we lift the loaded canoe over the dam. Getting back in the canoe, newly positioned in the lower pool of water, is a feat in itself.