2019/2020 Midwest Stoke Thread

None of my skis sold ! I guess asking $125 was too much ?

Anyway, skis are now free to anyone who has skied with me. Also free to anyone who skis with me the day they pick them up.

I know Djongo lurks in this thread, he will be pleased to know that I sold every pair of poles I had for $10 a pair, 7 pairs of poles total. He was making fun of me last year in Jackson because of my long ass poles. I did keep one pair that I will cut down.

Trollhaugen Stoke:

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Originally Posted by Harry

None of my skis sold ! I guess asking $125 was too much ?

Anyway, skis are now free to anyone who has skied with me. Also free to anyone who skis with me the day they pick them up.

I know Djongo lurks in this thread, he will be pleased to know that I sold every pair of poles I had for $10 a pair, 7 pairs of poles total. He was making fun of me last year in Jackson because of my long ass poles. I did keep one pair that I will cut down.

Trollhaugen Stoke:

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Shit, can't believe none of those sold. I'd give the Kastles a rip - more than happy to throw some money at you for them, or I'll throw you tickets anytime you guys want to get over Wild's way. I'll probably be out there 4-6 days a week, as it looks like I'll be 'coaching' my start-up race team at my kids school (it'll be just one of my kids most likely) and we'll be training with another team....

Kastle’s are yours. They fucking rip.



Edit: they need a tune, but price is right.


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Originally Posted by Harry

I think axebiker bought a Trollhaugen pass this year. He is a young whippersnapper so he has to pay for coffee.


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Yep - no free coffee for me...yet...

Halle-fuckin-lujah. Dudes like 6'2 rollin 67" poles or some shit. Once we got him some shorter poles, his heart magically started ticking like a metronome at a Metallica show.

Don't be showing up with yer new jibbing 37" 's.

I’d take those super shapes. We’ve gotta connect at some point this winter.

SuperShape Titans go to Mustonen. You will enjoy these, powerful ski.

I propose a meetup at Porcupine. I’ve never skied there but it looks cool when I’ve been there in the summer.

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I have some old 191 full camber Mantra’s that failed to sell at Buck hill a couple of weeks ago. Mounted with some Salomon S912 binders. Free to anyone who wants em


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Took the pontoon boat out of the water a week or so ago. Dock guys took out my dock and both lifts the other day. Another sign we will be skiing soon!

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Well, you're farther along than me. I've got all the boats and the two lifts out, but still have ~100' dock to pull in

I made it back up the the BWCA for a five day four night loop the last couple days of September into October. This was a rare opportunity to get away with just my dog and do a solo backcountry trip. Something I have never done. I'll admit to inviting a friend or two, but when they declined, I decided I was done asking. Maybe I needed to do this on my own. My plan was to put in at the Sawbill EP, to do the challenging Louse River, looping back through the Lady Chain, to Sawbill. I knew in advance, I might have to modify my plans. BWCA does not smile on those who don't listen when she grumbles.

Day Zero was Saturday at Sawbill NF service campground. My dad came up to car camp for a couple nights. We had a big time hanging out, catching up, and made pork chops on the fire. We talked about his history canoeing and our shared history, how I was surrounded by canoes in my early life. I secured my permit and a beautiful Wenonah Prism Kevlar solo canoe from Sawbill Outfitters located right in the National Forest Service camp.

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Sunday day 1 Sawbill to Wine Lake

The canoe seemed very sketch at first and I was experiencing some anxiety, probably normal before a solo like this, Garmin Inreach in one life jacket pocket, phone in the other, I always wore my life jacket. A brand new to me, pretty skinny canoe and plans to go deep enough that rescue would take a while, and where nobody would be around to help if I fell and hit my head. They have these amazing canoes set up with a permanent portage bar right in front of the seat instead of a moveable bar, which is unfortunate. I'm just shy of 6'2", so sticking my knees under it was hard and took a while, no way for me to kneel, and I had my pack loaded into the canoe wrong at first. Still I kept it upright, and made pretty good time up Sawbill. Despite a rather extensive collection of very expensive lightweight gear, my pack was damned heavy, with fresh steaks, plenty of wine, and food for 5 nights. Shouldering that thing on the first portage, I wasn't sure I could single portage, but when I lifted the super light 35 ish lb canoe, I knew I could push through. First portage was an easy 13 rod single and my confidence was boosted.

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From there it was up the Kelso river with a nice tailwind. So pretty. I'd been on this river before, coming the other way, out from Mesaba and Little Saganaga last summer. It looked completely different with low water, and the brown hues of fall mixed in with the greens of the summer gone by. Things have been dry in the BWCA this fall. I met a group of 3 boats leaving and they looked at me and my dog and told me I was living the dream. Yeah, I guess I was.

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The Kelso, turns into Kelso Lake, then Lujenida Lake, then a longish 490 rod portage, which is about a mile and a half, and because of its length, most parties avoid it, leaving the lakes it accesses very quiet. I saw the last people I would see until my exit day at the start. A youngish couple from Salida, Colorado. I kind of had to drag words out of them, and they seemed disinterested with my loose connections to Salida and that area in general, but they gave Oso some love and were nice enough, so I waved them by, they were rocking ultralight gear which is rare in the BW, and looked to be only doing a night or two.

The portage was probably about an hour, took a couple rests, landed on Zenith Lake and immediately started making my way west to Frederick. The paddle was through a shallow marsh, with a tiny canoe path that weaved and dead ended and took much longer than I had anticipated. Short portage into Frederick, short paddle and then a 90 rod up and over a bluff portage into Wine. Wine is spectacular, relatively deep, flanked on the south side by bluffs, and holds lake trout. It was mine, all 3 sites deserted to the fall weather, I landed on the 4 star campsite closest to the portage and made myself at home for the next two nights.

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Steaks and greenbeans for dinner. A nice little fire after clearing the pine needles and clutter from around the fire, removing any ground connection to surrounding vegatation. I kept it as small as I could, using wood sparingly, and with an eye always to the dryness, cooked dinner over smokey coals, beans wrapped in foil, and then enjoyed the dying fires warmth and glow before dousing it completely. The lessons of tragic escaped fires, the dryness of the woods, were not lost of me.

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Monday started beautifully, fresh eggs and bacon with toast for breakfast, doused in hot sauce. The wind gone for long enough to fire them over another tiny fire. I doused the fire, secured my food and went canoeing. Unfortunately, the wind came up quickly, and I had trouble keeping the bow pointed into the wind with no weight up front except for Oso. I kept us upwind of camp, and played around with some gusts, and frankly struggled, blown quickly sideways by some, careening on the edge of a harmless capsize. Damned. The portage yoke forced me to sit, not kneel. That is when I went full kayak mode with my longish six footer legs, pushing my but off the back of my seat, then forcing my legs under the portage yoke, and everything changed. Stable and secure, with the power I was used to wielding, lightbulbs went off, and I was back in the game. I returned to camp, grabbed some snacks, and we went fishing, the wind was now just a nuisance, no longer stirring fear in my soul.

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Fishing was slow, so we cast, trolled, and explored the gorgeous lake. Nothing was touching my spoon, my hope of catching an elusive lake trout dashed by the warm water temps, and my scattershot approach, from the deepest hole, to casting over reefs my map showed, yielded nothing. It didn't matter of course. Fishing is always just an aside for me. The lake was stunning, and we spent several hours moving and grooving around the deep main section of lake, always within sight of camp, and always surrounded by full fall brilliance.

That night, I had sorta fresh tacos. The taco sauce bark, and chicken were deydrated, with fresh cut lettuce, tomato, and soft taco shells. Doused with Chahula packets, sprinkled with garlic powder, pepper, and topped with sour cream from rehydrated powder. Heavenly.

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I also enjoyed some beers patented as gatorbeer by my daughter. Two beers in a gatorade bottle, with a bit of gatorade, it circumvents the BWCA ban on cans. Sealed tight like a growler, the bottle becomes a useful water jug after. Carried over way too long of a portage. It was amazing, Yard Sale IPA from Lion Bridge in Cedar Rapids. My little radio played WTIP out of Grand Marais, and all was well, until, frontal clouds approached. I doused the tiny fire quickly, shortly thereafter the wind suddenly rushed into camp and changed the feel of the night. The wind escalated and wouldn't let off until late morning the next day. My sleep was restless, 100 foot high healthy white pines swaying menacingly in the wind above me, the gusts were never strong enough to force me to retreat to the waters edge, but they were always threatening.

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Tuesday morning was cold and windy, I cooked eggs and pre-cooked bacon in my skillet held over my MSR canister stove, with the wind a fire was out of the question, and I later learned a fire ban had been implemented at midnight. My common sense didn't need an official notification. Though I never learned of the ban, I never felt conditions were safe enough to have another fire. My stove worked great on my skillet so no matter, but I did miss a crackling warming fire after sunset.

I had to wait until noon to leave camp into the wind. I think with what I know now, I could have left sooner, but with the wind blowing on shore, I had no way to test my new canoe setup fully loaded, without pushing off. A capsize wasn't a risk I was willing to take. After the wind slowed a bit, I did leave, but it left me running late, and I knew I would be changing my destination from Trail Lake to Dent Lake. Louse river was out, Dent Lake loop was in. The route would still take me over the most challenging portage on the Louse, all of it on rarely traveled lakes.

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It was a stunning day. I circled the island on Wine that contains the other nice campsite, then portaged into Mug which was Quetico ish, rocky and gorgeous. It had an other worldy feel, it has a waterfall, but I suspected it wasn't running so I moved on. The next few lakes and waterways were without camps, and they are some of the most isolated in the BWCA. Mug to Poe to Louse I paddled with firm strokes, and with that my Prism sliced through the strong headwind effortlessly.

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The portages were fainter and less traveled here, they wandered in and out of mud, through and around beaver dams, forced boulder hopping, and generally made a moose out of me. Much bear scat was on the trails, but a bear I did not see. When I finally emerged from the skinny east west Louse River corrider, and turned north toward Dent on Bug Lake, I saw a pair of Trumpeter swans. I glided on lily pad glass through the swampy bogish lake, wide and beautiful, the bright white swans took off and circled and then landed out of sight.

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Dent was wide and gourgeous, more birch and gray clouds gave it a dirty yellow color. I worked my way up the eastern shoreline, a blend of cliffs and rock shelves. My camp was on a long rock shelf that could be mistaken for a beach, with a perfect slope into the lake. It was a nice summer camp, with a view looking west. The firepit was set out in the open on the rock, nakedly exposed to the wind, which was less than ideal for October, but the large tent pad was sheltered in the woods behind. Too windy and dry for a fire, I read and listened to my radio. Home dehydrated sierra spaghetti for dinner, served on fresh bread, sprinkled with garlic powder. I threw on my down coat, made some Kahula and coffee, lounged in my Helinox Zero chair. The view and the isolation were magnificent. Around sunset the wind died completely and we heard the tell tale signs of a large browser nearby. The quiet became intense, and Oso went on full alert. He sat in my lap for a good hour, something he rarely wants to do, ears perked, listening, basking in the last golden light. When we went to bed the tree cracking animal sounds drew near, there was some very close noises at one point, Oso barked and scowled, I listened for signs a bear was attacking my food, but heard nothing of the sort. I drifted off to sleep as the new south wind started swaying the treetops. Wind, always wind.

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Wednesday we were pretty efficient. Freeze dried Mountain House breakfast on fresh toast, soaked in even more hot sauce. We packed up and set off north again, wind pushing us as soon as we left shore, Dent funnels into a channel and then vears back east.

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A longish portage into a small beaver pond with a deep challenging landing. Short paddle to a steep drop into Chaser lake. Across Chaser I lost my way a bit, taking what looked like the obvious portage but it went to a pretty flowage that headed north, I had to backtrack through the scruffy alders and refloat the canoe to find the actual landing on the south side.

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When I finally reached Mesaba, I felt a bit of nostalgia, having stayed a night here last summer with Melissa and Sage. I passed our camp and portaged into Hug and Duck. The wind was swirly but not enough to push the canoe around or raise much more than ripples, so I felt incredibly relaxed as a paddled slowly through Hug and the shallow Duck lake. Some reds were scattered on the shoreline, the contrast with the greens, yellows, and browns were stunning.

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Once I traversed Mesaba the portages are well traveled, so it was a 74, 5, and 64 rod portage back into Zenith. Zenith is protected from the south by the 490 rod portage I came in on so I wasn't worried the camp would be occupied. I had wanted to visit the campsite it holds last summer, having been told it is often overlooked and underestimated. It is up in the woods, on a high bench, the view is through the trees, at the lake it is just a landing and a convenient sheltered canoe garage. The site was indeed special. Huge trees behind camp glowing bright in the sun, a large tentpad down the fun trail to the toilet, which was even further down the trail around a bend up a hill. Zero cell service. As soon as I arrived I felt completely relaxed, and in a good way, alone. Unwatched by the world. I was free to do what I wanted. And so I inventoried my remaining wine and drink, too heavy to carry back across the portage into Lujenida. And so I drank and was merry. The dog and I played and we danced. I read some, and cooked a bland freeze dried meal that turned spectacular with hot sauce, olive oil, garlic and pepper. The cold set in fast so we made our last warm Kahula with instant Alpine Start coffee and creamer. I listened to some recordings I had made along the way. Oso gave up first and went under the MLD tarp and into the unzipped enclosure, I later joined him, we curled up together on my down bag, and I read until I slept.

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I contemplated being alone a lot. The early October sun disapearing before 7, and not rising again until after 7. 4 nights and 5 days felt like a long time with only one book, no internet, and equal parts light and dark. I was anxious to get home and help my wife get through the end of the week, attend my daughters swim meet on Saturday. It wasn't hard to cut the trip a day short, and abandoning the Louse river was the right thing to do. Everything is more work when you are by yourself. Nobody to share tasks, nobody to blame when I pulled out of camp at 10:30. I enjoyed waking up and reading in my tent till 8, when the sun had warmed the woods. I had nobody to apologize too, I didn't sign up for a suffer fest, this was vacation, and the pesky wind made the decison for me, I listened when the BW spoke. I didn't fish much, the warm water and reports of slow fishing and too many casts going unanswered skewered my motivation. Wind has always worn on me, I love it, but it has a way of raising my anxiety just enough to make windy days outside more tiring, no matter the setting.

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My brain wandered often to past trips, my enthusiasm uncontainable, with friends who weren't quite so clearly seeing the point as they struggled to be fully intrigued by their surrounds, and to shake the hardships to enjoy the reward that only comes after enduring portage pain, something that came naturally, effortlessly to me and most people who become repeat customers of the backcountry. That disconnect created conflict, and those conflicts never really faded until the friendships withered and dried up, just like the fallen leaves I was crunching with every footstep. Was I coming to terms with that natural cycle, on a solo trip? Maybe more than anything, that was what this was about. This wasn't a trip to prove I could do a solo canoe trip, I knew I could, especially with expensive Dyneema, carbon fiber, and ultra fluffy down feathers. Maybe it was more about why I was doing this, why we do this without a wife, daughter, stepson, or friends. Sharing experiences always lends needed meaning, which could otherwise be penned as senseless wandering. But I'm also forever an introvert, a senseless wanderer by my very nature, and people tend to tire me out. Lost in my own thoughts much of life. The irony is that a place like the boundary waters calms my mind, which so often spins madly when trying to navigate society, but which settles into a calm focus in the wild, which brings me out of my head, and helps me relate to the world and people around me better, if ever briefly. That is why I will come back to these wild places as long as they exist and I am able, with or without the comfort and joy of others.

I woke up Thursday a little rough. My impromtu dance party and weight reduction strategy resulting in the need for some Nuun tablet rehydration and a couple ibuprofen, a cup of oatmeal for breakfast. By the time I packed up I felt great and my now much lighter portage pack was loaded. We paddled down and across the deep and high Zenith lake, then quickly walked the mile and half back across the portage. It was a breeze, the multi hued trees mixing with the deep blue of the partly cloudy Minnesota sky. Enough leaves had fallen to give me an excellent view through the woods. Oso pranced and bounded, we made a phone call home at the top of a bluff where my phone had one bar. At the very end of the portage a large multi trunk spruce was down, a victim of the high wind, weakened by the cyclical bud worm. I used my Silky saw to cut a path through the impossible tangle. A surprisingly satisfying task. The wind pushed me down the river, over a beaver dam and the final portage back into Sawbill. I hugged the right bank of Sawbill, which is a large body of water, for the longish paddle back to the landing, avoiding testy waves and the worst of the gusty winds. There were other canoes here, the first people I had seen since Sunday.

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I returned my canoe to the outfitter, talked to their kind crew, threw my huge portage pack in my wagon, enjoyed a cold can of beer from Sawbill's fridge, a $5 shower, and then the 8 hour drive down the shore, to the road home, which too quickly brought me back to a place completely different from the BWCA. Sometime around 3 am I crawled into a real bed, and at 5 am I was driving my daughter to diving practice. It felt good to be home but my spirit and wanderlust will always pull me back away from here. Till next time BW...

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Excellent, TR, ugly. Thanks for sharing your trip.

Nicely done!
I sure wish I could write. I've never been good at that.

love the BWCA -
Thanks - yes - for sharing your trip. !

skiJ

Well done! Thoroughly enjoyed reading that. Thanks!

Solid trip report! I’m curious what your pack looked like? I’m not sure I could fit all my clothing, gear, and food in a single pack. I’d love to do a solo trip with my pup someday, but wonder if I’d freak out at night.


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Originally Posted by jerlane

Solid trip report! I’m curious what your pack looked like? I’m not sure I could fit all my clothing, gear, and food in a single pack. I’d love to do a solo trip with my pup someday, but wonder if I’d freak out at night.


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Thanks for taking the time to read it.

I worried I'd get the creeps at night also. Everybody probably does. But it didn't happen.

It is a Granite Gear Superior portage pack with a liner. It is gigantic. It takes seconds to pack once you get everything together. Traditional backpacks don't work that well for canoe tripping, though in a solo they probably would be fine as long as you can lay them down, but that makes them prone to get soaked... not that anybody is gatekeeping in the BW, you see people with every kind of bag, this is the midwest after all. But to single portage solo, it takes some planning ahead and specialized gear for sure.

I have a little Cooke Custom Sewing (CCS) pouch that connects to a thwart on the canoe, I store snacks/small items I think I might need access to, and my map pouch clips on to it, but that is the only other bag I have and it is usually mostly empty. Multiple bags make portage transitions a mess and slow. One portage pack to shoulder, usually right from the water, clip my paddle onto the canoe with bungie dealie bobs, hoist the canoe, and we go. I even wear my life jacket on all but the longest portages.

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Awesome TR. Thank you for taking the time to document and share!

Hot tip on the Gatorade bottle growler as well!

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Thanks for the awesome TR.

Coaching HS soccer in the fall since 1995 as prevented me from enjoying a fall SHT or BWCA trip. Now that I am retired from coaching, I am going to make plans to head up next fall with my pup Cooper. Although it’s been a dry, the weather this fall has been amazing for camping/ hiking.

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Ugly, great TR to a very cool spot. Thanks for taking the time to post photos and your thoughts

Thanks for the props everyone. I wrote that on notepad and it has just been sitting here for a couple of weeks while I fumbled words and pecked at it occasionally. Wasn't sure if it was actually going to be worth sharing. Apparently, it was.

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Originally Posted by mn_teleswede

Thanks for the awesome TR.

Coaching HS soccer in the fall since 1995 as prevented me from enjoying a fall SHT or BWCA trip. Now that I am retired from coaching, I am going to make plans to head up next fall with my pup Cooper. Although it’s been a dry, the weather this fall has been amazing for camping/ hiking.

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Soccer is all consuming, I had to miss some of my girls fall games for this. She has been going non stop since last March, Denver for nationals this summer. It is crazy, good sport but out of proportion. I'm on an SHT page. Fascinated by long distance hikes, maybe someday. You should definitely go to the BWCAW with your dog.

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Every BWCA trip I ever took with my Dad he fed me Spam. You are winning. [emoji3]



Excellent TR. Glad you posted this much detail. Midwest Stoke is more than just skiing.[emoji106]

Trollhaugen maggots, time to put your jockstraps on.

RAIN MIXING WITH OR TURNING TO SNOW LATE TONIGHT OR THURSDAY
MORNING WITH A NARROW BAND OF ACCUMULATION EXPECTED...

Despite the record warm temperatures this week, significant
changes are coming by late tonight as widespread rain overspreads
Minnesota and Wisconsin. Much colder air will gradually work in
through Thursday and rain will mix with or turn to all snow late
tonight or early Thursday. The snow may be heavy at times, leading
to potentially hazardous travel.

Fuck yeah! You know Troll will be firing up the guns.