Chapter Eighteen: Lac La Croix

After refueling with a nap and devouring some food, it was nice to relax on our private little island. I didn't have the desire to explore the lake or walk around. I was feeling just fine, as I was still basking in the glory of my accomplishments. The mosquitoes were out for blood and at sunset, we called it an evening. As we were paddling out of the lake the next morning we were greeted by a Hawk. It was perched on a tall Pine tree branch and gave us a full inspection. We were within twenty feet of it but it didn't seem afraid of our proximity. It was probably deciding if our carcasses were too big to carry for it. Now, now birdy, let's not turn this into a Hitchcock film.
The portage was very difficult to find as there were dense evergreens obscuring the landing. I was allowed to use the map today as Grandpa said this area wasn't a place for games. We were taking the trail over to Lac La Croix, the biggest lake in the boundary waters. Saganaga Lake is the largest and deepest but it technically is mostly in Canada. Lac La Croix has many islands and inlet bays, so you could get lost very easily. It is not easily described as it is shaped like a dragon or a snake or just pure chaos. It is 28 miles long, and is shared by both the U.S. and Canada. The Canadian side belongs to Quetico Provincial Park, and there are outfitters on their side of the lake. Even though you are on the same body of water, you need a separate permit for Quetico and more importantly you will need to clear customs like any other border. You have to plan ahead as you have to mail it prior to your trip and that could take months.
There are a massive amount of campsites on it which means more people to deal with. The great advantage is that there are no portages to deal with for miles. Lac La Croix is so vast that you could have planned a whole trip just exploring it. It is well known for its fishing so encountering men casting a line is far from a rarity.
The big body of water also makes for higher waves and wind, so tipping over becomes the main concern. It may take longer but hugging the shoreline is the best strategy until calmer waters arrive. There are parts of the lake that make it difficult to tell if you are in the U. S. or Canada. There are rangers that are patrolling on the Canada side so it is best to be cautious about your whereabouts.
We are aiming to camp on Coleman Island for the night assuming that it is free. It's roughly five or six miles of paddling in store for us today. We keep to the southern shores and We briefly tasted these waters quite literally before. When Grandpa and I had our debacle going through the rapids, it was a part of this lake we had to search for our wandering paddle. That was much farther south from where we were voyaging today.
As I stroked the paddle in an almost mechanical rhythm, I watched the swirls created in the wake. They dance in rotation and even find a dancing partner with Grandpa's. They create a gentle impact wave when they meet and slowly ripple into nothing.
Making due course East we make a half circle around tiny inlets and small islands. We pass through a narrow point by Twentyseven Island which is shaped a bit like England. There were three campsites on the island but wanted to get closer to where Lac La Croix turns south and to our eventual route out.
As soon as we clear the islands welcoming protection we enter into open water. The lake is at its widest and nothing to be trifled with. We avert the worst of the wind and waves by heading toward a chain of small islands dotting the coast. These small islands don't even get the dignity of having names on our map. We are so focused we barely notice the other canoes floating in inlets that we come by. My focus was on that we'd soon be back to the car as we only had a day or two left. I felt satisfied I tested myself enough, so tonight's campsite was all that mattered. No getting side tracked in adventure. I had plenty here.
We reached a clump of large and small islands across from Coleman and the waters immediately became placid. We had to make a V-pattern to get around them and up to a narrow bay with our campsite. The waters were far calmer here and we passed another three campsites we could turn back to if our targeted one was occupied.
We reached the campsite we had wanted for the night but were made to abort that plan quite swiftly when a large group had already staked their claim. We faced the choice of heading north and working a little harder today to save on tomorrow's labor or go back to the three sites we just passed. We knew at least one of those was empty but it meant adding a little extra to tomorrow's journey.
We both elected to go to the one we knew to be empty and not risk the chance of finding taken campsites all night. The campsite we found wasn't on an island, and was surrounded by dense forest, but had a white sand beach. Most landings are on the rocky side so this was a pleasant surprise.
It was very bare bones but it would be more than due for the night. We pulled up and unloaded, soon we had the camp in working order as we were getting to military proficiency.
After some housekeeping duties like replenishing our water supply and fixing a meal, we both found spots to entrench ourselves for an evening around the campfire. We sat. On logs close to the shore. I dared to expose my bare feet and play with the white sand until the bugs made it impossible.
Thoughts of us back in civilization creeped back into my mind. I had been so busy with all the tests Grandpa gave me, I had forgotten about life back in the civilized world. It was all coming back to me as we sat there.
"You seem a whole lot less anxious and jittery out here. Usually at the cabin, you are on edge checking your phone every two seconds jumping at every sound it makes. Thank God I haven't had to hear any of that out here. Might hear a pack of wolves howl tonight or the screech of an eagle in the morning." "That's the first time I even thought about my phone in a while, that's got to be a record for me," I was surprised.
I was now thinking of my friends and how great it was going to be to catch up with them. I was jealous about missing out on their fun this summer and I still am in a way, but I don't think they will have a story like mine.
My thoughts went to my father and I wondered if he was having any luck. Grandpa must have read my mind.
"When do you guys have to be out of the house again?"
"We have to be out by the end of the month, as the new people will be moving in on the first. Hopefully dad has found a new place." "Yeah, I know it hasn't been easy this summer for you. Been spending it with an old fool like me instead of your friends."
"That's true, I would have rather spent time with them, but it hasn't been all bad."
He laughed as if he had told himself a private joke, "The leeches, right, that was your favorite part?"
My face turned sour just thinking about those little squirmy abominations, "no, definitely not."
"What has been your favorite part so far?"
"The fact that I was able to carry the canoe across the portage is definitely up there. Though, my favorite part has been these conversations with you."
"Definitely my favorite part too." He must have been reflecting on things as he paused. "What are you going to do when we get back?"
"Grandma mentioned doing some stuff with her, but unless dad has found something, nothing much has changed,"
"If you have to move away from your friends, do you think you can handle it?"
"Would you have been able to at my age?
"No, I expect not. That would be difficult for anyone. But you carried the canoe and overcame that. I have complete faith that whatever life throws at you, you can handle it."
He had a point, I did find the courage to overcome things out here. Deep down I knew that it really wasn't about if I'd be able to move on in my life if things changed. I knew it was because I didn't want them to change. Nothing lasts forever and eventually I would lose contact with those friends, I just wasn't experienced enough to know it.
"No use crying over spilled milk that hasn't spilled yet. He's probably found something and it will work its way out." He tried to convince me.
"I hope so."
"I know so."
"When you were my age did you ever go through stuff like this"
He looked in deep thought, "No, not off the top of my head. It was a small farm town. People really didn't sell unless they lost their farm. People would move away after school to go look for work. It wasn't uncommon for someone to quit school because they were needed more on the farm. And divorces were very uncommon then. So no, I can't think of anything like what you're going through."
I folded my arms as talking about it just made me frustrated, not at him but the situation. As we sat the light of day was slowly fading, and stood up to stretch a little. We were looking out onto the tranquil water of the channel. You could just see the edge of where the channel met the open wide part of the lake. I could just make out the rougher water and was glad we were not out on that any longer. I walked to the water's edge to look at the water's purity. You could see so clearly all the bits of sand and rock through the transparent liquid.
"You know if you want to vent some of that frustration here's what you can do. Go find a bunch of rocks. With each rock think of whatever is bothering you, and give it a toss in the lake hoping it takes your problem with it. Even use multiple rocks for the same problem."
Intrigued, "Does it work?"
"Well no, it can't make the problem go away but its fun. It might help a little."
"I'll give it a try."
I walked around finding little rocks here and there. As soon as I'd find one, I'd give it a big heave. Each time silently telling myself of something that was upsetting me. I'd say things like, take this dad, and chuck a rock. I'd watch it hang in the air until the satisfying splash and sound of it hitting water. I'd repent the process over and over, and it did help for the moment.
"You want to give it a try?" I offered him a rock.
"Yeah, I suppose I do." He grabbed it from my hand and tossed it further than I could manage.
"Got your own frustrations, huh?"
"Yeah, I've been dealing with this bratty teenager in the middle of nowhere for a couple of days. Can't seem to get rid of her." We both were now looking for rocks.
"And I've been dealing with a smelly old man who picks on little girls. Probably thinks his jokes are funny too."
"I can't help if my sophisticated humor is beyond your mental faculties."
"You don't even know how to spell that."
"What?"
"Whatever you just said."
"You're probably right."
We teased each other some more and threw more rocks until we ran out of easy ones to find. Sat back down and waited for the sun to set.
The mosquitoes were thick at this campsite but with some favorable winds blowing the fire smoke helped to keep some in tow. We both had dressed in a thick layer of clothes so we could stay outside in spite of the thirsty vampires long enough to see the stars tonight. It didn't stop them from trying.
We hadn't really enjoyed the stars for the past couple of nights for various reasons. The sky was clear and the dying light of day was in its last throes. One by one the stars were appearing for this night's performance and they glimmered bigger and brighter than anything on Broadway. "You had said the Ojibwe made pictographs around here?" I broke the quiet.
"Yep, there are a lot on this lake. We'll probably see them tomorrow."
"As the stars come out and they take the form of shapes, it's almost like someone made pictographs in the nightscape."
"Well, the Greeks and ancient cultures would agree with you, as their names for constellations were of animals and Gods. I'm sure many of the Ojibwe pictographs on the rocks up here are in relation to the stars."
"I guess I've never linked the two"
"I believe the Ojibwe call the constellation that has the Little Dipper, The Loon. The North Star is a vital part of that constellation. When Loons are on the water they have a speckled white spot look to their back and it reminds them of a starry sky. Loons are also active in the night when there is dark water. So watching them move across the dark water with their white spots is like watching the stars move across the night sky."
"I can see that. I may never look at a loon swimming the same."
"The Loon was the only Ojibwe one I can remember but Grandpa told me about the Greek ones. I can't remember half of them without a book."
"What with all that stuff that looks like plasma and space dust?"
"That isn't far off I imagine. I'm sure it's gasses and radiated light. I'm not going to claim to be an expert. I'm just an old man who can pick out a couple of stars in the sky."
"You're right about the old part. I was going to say that you are probably old enough to have been who named them but why be cruel?"
"Yet you sort of said it anyways." He shook his head knowing I was joking.
As the night progressed deeper into its shadowy blackness, a new phenomenon appeared just on the horizon. It was like a heavenly light reaching out from the dark. It was a florescent green and seemed almost like a phantom stretching across the sky. It swirled and grew until it's ghoulish breath encompassed much of the sky.
"We got lucky, looks like we'll get The Northern Lights tonight."
"I've seen them sometimes in the city but definitely not like this. They're beautiful. What are they again?"
"They are particles ejected from the sun riding on the solar winds hitting our atmosphere. The sun is always churning like a volcano and has these coronal mass ejections."
We watch as the green plasma oozes as if in a river. Arching back and forth. "Are they always green like this?"
"No they can be all types of colors, I think it has to do with high or low altitude. Whatever else is in the atmosphere to mix with."
"Sometimes learning about the science behind things can really take the beauty away. I liked it better when it was just a mysterious ghoul, like the grim reaper reaching out its clutches to snag his next victim."
"You certainly have an active imagination about it."
"I try."
"Well, the Romans did as well. Aurora was their Goddess of the dawn. The Northern Lights are also known as Aurora Borealis. Borealis has something to do with wind. For them the Northern Lights were like the light reaching into the night to signal the coming of the sun. I only remember it because in paintings Aurora is always nude."
"Well I probably don't need to know that last little tidbit."
"But it is poetic. Aurora is the dawn, renewing every morning to find her love Tithonus. They are like young lovers, Romeo and Juliet-style. Star-crossed lovers. It's actually a sad story now that I think of it. I think she grants him immortality or someone does, but he eventually is turned into a cicada tree. I don't remember if the moral of the story was. Love and beauty never last or care what you wish for. All those passionate young love tales end in tragedy."
"Wonder what that says about young love?" I say thinking out loud, not expecting an answer.
"What it means is that you shouldn't date until your thirty-five or else nothing but bad things."
I knew he was joking. "So when you were fifteen, you'd listen to the same advice?"
"When I was fifteen I couldn't get a date even if I wanted to. I think your grandma only dated me out of pity."
"How did you and Grandma meet?"
"We met at a dance if you can believe it." "You dancing? No I don't."
"She was from the next town over from us and it was this spring dance they used to have. It was a chance to meet people from outside of our town as you've seen how small the town I grew up in was."
"Was it love at first sight?"
"Yes, for me at least. It took some convincing, could have been my dancing, but it worked out in the end."
We watched the streams of light for as long as we could. Etching the memories of this cosmic dust into our minds. My imagination ran wild with visions of Gods and Goddesses on epic adventures. Love and power gained and lost when the morning would eventually make its return.