We camped at a provincial park campground at French Lake, near Atikokan Ontario the night before the put-in. John, the 8th crew member, was to drive up from Iowa and meet us there. He pulled into the campground just moments before us. It was about 8pm.

We wanted to go into the town ofo Atikokan for dinner because we would be eating camp food for the next 12 or 13 nights. I was really looking forward to that last hamburger or pizza or something else fatty and unhealthy and unavailable for the next 2 weeks.

John had been to Atikokan and told us it was still a bit of a drive and there was nothing to eat there anyway. So we cooked Macaroni and cheese that Bob had taken on several previous trips but somehow it never got eaten. It was pretty bad. Mac and Cheese lasts a long time, but like plutonium, it does have a shelf life even if it is measured in decades.

Bob spent a while pouring all of the alcohol into reusable containers. You are not allowed to bring non-resuable bottles into Quetico Provincial park. So we had all these Maid-Rite plastic quart bottles labelled, "Canadian Club", "Tequila", "Vodka", etc.

We watched the first of many marvelous sunsets over the lake as we setup camp. We ate in the dark.

The next morning we rose at dawn for the 3rd day in a row and it was literally freezing. The tents were covered with frost and dishes we washed late the nite before had ice in them. I suffered until I finally put my ski gloves on. Katy and Randy had been very cold in their tent that nite. Their sleeping bags weren't quite warm enough for temperatures in the 20s. We assumed it would be cold like that every nite so when it came time to decide what goes in the canoes and what stays in the van, we packed every bit of warm gear we could find.

Katy had read that you can put one of those aluminum emergency blankets under your sleeping bag to reflect your heat at night. We tried this but I don't know if it worked or not. We have good sleeping bags and were never cold at nite.

In the morning we ate oatmeal, as we would every morning for the next 12 days, then we packed up and started driving to the put-in, about 2 more hours driving. We stopped in Atikokan to top of the gas tanks then got lost. It's hard to imagine getting lost in such a small town but we did. We passed a huge lumber mill, which explains part of why Atikokan exists. The Welcome To Atikokan sign added, "Canoe capitol of the world!" Every other car seemed to have at least one canoe on top.

The last 3 miles was down a narrow dirt road. We went slow but you didn't need a four wheel drive vehicle or anything. We saw about 15 cars parked at the put-in, which surprised me. I didn't expect to see any sign of people.

A beaver dam had flooded the road. The tire tracks just disapeared into a pond. We had to pack up all the boats and paddle across this little pond to the first portage. Across the pond, about 50 yards away, we could see other canoeist on their way out. Since the pond was not marked on the maps, we didn't know how much more road was ahead. I was afraid we would have to portage a mile or more.

Uncle Clint and Hugh packed their boat first then took off and abandon the rest us. This happened many times. We wanted to get a big group photo there but it never happened. Bob and I had one last beer then Bob parked the van. I specifically told him to be sure to leave the can in the van, but he didn't. We had to carry that 1 can for the rest of the trip.

We talked to the other folks coming out and they assured us that the portage was only a couple hundred meters. Still a ways but not horrible. They also said the weather had been cold and grey and they had a big storm. Also the fishing was bad. Oh boy.

So we packed all the boats for a 50 yard paddle then unpacked them and carried everything for 200 meters then packed the boats again.

From here we had a 2.5 mile paddle across Beaverhouse Lake to a ranger station where we had to "check-in." It cost $10 (Canadian) per nite per person. This is for a campsite where you dig your own latrine, according to all of their rules, sleep on granite and carry-out all of your trash.

Everyone except Joan got a fishing license. I think it took an hour for the woman to process all of us mostly because of Randy. Randy is Canadian and apparently the ranger rarely sees Canadians and did remember how to sell him fishing licence. She had to call on her radio to other rangers and ask them. They didn't know either so they called other people. It was taking so long Randy suggested he just pay the American licence fee but she said, "your in this now."

In the end, he paid almost the same as us but had different paper work. It turned out not to matter. He didn't bring any fish in.

A wind picked up in the afternoon, causing some waves on the lake. I was worried about Uncle Clint and Hugh. The Yellow Submarine was the fastest of all the boats we had but also the lowest in the water and would probably be the first one to take in water when the waves got bigger.

To make things more precarious, they were packed a little bow heavy. I watched as the waves came just short of the gunwales. I figured out a rescue plan should they swamp but they didn't.

After a couple miles back across Beaverhouse lake and a protracted search for the portage trail (our map marked it in the wrong place) we made lunch -- red beans and rice. We setup lunch at the base of the portage trail, and while I cooked, every else made the first pass across the trail. By the time they got back, lunch was ready.

At almost 1 km, we thought this would be the longest portage. It was hard work but we were still fresh and enthusiastic. Also there was some comfort in the thought that this was the worst portage. Or so we thought.

There was a small lake on the other side. We were only on it for a few minutes but I remember it was very pretty. It was a clear sky and the water was a deep blue. The lake was surrounded by pine and birch trues growing out of cracks in the rocks. It was amazing the places these trees would grow. On top of huge rock slabs would be an inch of soil and a tree would grow in that.

Leo would have loved this place too. Lichen grew everywhere. Sometime you couldn't help stepping on it because it would cover the big slabs of rock where there was nothing else. It was a few inches thick and bushy and crunched under your feet like dry leaves. I remember it being white and light green.

We left the pretty little lake on a short but hard portage. I carried over one of the 2 food bags then our canoe, Der Zeitung. Joan and I headed back for a 3rd and final trip. We passed Katy going the other way with an enormous load. We asked her something like, "How much is left back there?"

"Not that much," she said. "One person can get the rest." So Joan took some things from Katy and they headed to the end of the portage. But when I got to the beginning of the portage, there we definitely more than one person could carry. It was all the hard stuff to carry to. A bunch of life preservers, fishing poles, nets with shoes in them, paddles, stuff like that.I figured I better try to find a way to carry overything since everyone at the other end thought this was the last load.

I didn't mind carrying the 60 pound food bag or Der Zeitung as much I minded trying to carry all those loose ends. The nets and fishing poles snag on every little tree. Your arm gets really tired trying hold a couple paddles under them. I had 3 life preserves around my neck so I couldn't see where to put my feet. I still give Katy a hard time about sticking me with all that stuff by myself but I know it is deceiving when you look at a few scattered things at a portage.

We paddled only a short distance to that nite's camp site. Despite having to break camp in the morning, drive 2 hours, get lost in Atikokan, fill the boats at the put-in, paddle for 5 miles, check-in with the ranger and portage 3 times it was only about 5pm.

After we set up camp on a beautiful little pennisula, Bob, Randy, Hugh and Uncle Clint, went fishing. One of the nicest times in the Quetico is after setting up camp and before dinner. It's a good time to paddle out and fish or just explore the lake. The wind has usually stopped for the day and the sunsets could be magnificent. Katy and I planned to cook dinner and she started making arrangements with the people fishing to have dinner at 9:30. It seemed silly to me to worry about time so I encouraged Katy to take off her watch. She agreed. Still, several people did wear watches the whole time. I am just glad not to have known that it was 5:45am or something like that everyday when I got up.

Bob was the only successful fisherman that evening. He caught a nice sized walleye, about 4 pounds maybe.

Next: Northern Lights

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