Tripped Up
Jim Jelak
No trip detail has been overlooked; we've been planning our route and preparing our gear for months. My solo Prism waits to be placed in the water, a spare paddle lashed inside. New line has been wound on the fishing reels. Fresh batteries have been placed in the headlamps. New parachute cord has been packed with the trusty old rain tarp. Homemade dehydrated meals are prepared and packed. We are ready.
The irony is not lost on me that although I spend so much money and time buying and preparing my gear the thing that I seek most can't be bought at any price. Yes, it's true that top-notch equipment is fun to fuss with and certainly contributes to a safe and comfortable trip.
Yet it is the lure of wilderness that pulls me north to Ely. It is the immersion in this wilderness that I crave; an addict of all things wild I desperately need my B dubs fix.
Sadly, there are too few places remaining where one can lose himself in pure wilderness. Fortunately, the BWCAW and Quetico is within a day's ride of my home and I appreciate how lucky I am to live so near such pure, wild lands.
Great men and women fought long and hard to preserve this wondrous place so that people like me can enjoy this last wilderness. They courageously fought careless men who would profit from developing this pristine wilderness because they understood better and appreciated more the true value of this land, water and sky. They knew this land must remain forever wild. They understood that this land is priceless.
So there is nothing left to do but wait. The pack waits next to the door. The magical day of departure approaches. Daydreams of our impending trip lengthen and increase in frequency even as the days grow shorter as summer dies and the year inches closer to its conclusion. I need to get away from my life for a while. I need to spend 10 days where my most pressing daily decision is. . . "Original Recipe Shore Lunch or Cajun Style?"
