It's not the Q/BWCA, but I guess ALGONQUIN would qualify as canoe country

Anyway, this is easily the Weirdest thing I've ever seen

A few years back, my trip to the Quetico Park was canceled at the last minute due to my paddling partner’s last minute work obligations!
I’d never paddled solo, so this is a perfect opportunity to give it a try? I decide for my first solo trip I’ll go somewhere a little closer and not so isolated?
After doing some research, I decide on Algonquin Park.  A 4-5 hr drive from me, it has resident Brook trout, which sells me, and I decide to do a weeklong trip. Being my first trip to the park; I choose the southern entry point which proved a poor choice for me!
I soon realize that with Toronto being so close, the entry point I’ve chosen is a jump-off point for day paddlers and overnight campers!! Being used to Quetico Park’s solitude and seeing so many people all over the entry lakes and adjacent campsites is a little disconcerting! It take’s a good day’s travel to get up into the areas of the park were there is a measure of solitude.
I bust butt, and by noon of second day, I’m pretty much all by myself?
I’m following a small creek up to a portage and while it’s shallow and barely deep enough to float my solo canoe, I manage to get to the landing and the start of a ¾ mi portage. Hearing what sounds like a small dog barking? I turn and come face to face with a sight I won’t soon forget! It’s a “SUBSTANTIAL” woman, 3OO lbs PLUS emerging from the portage trail!  Dressed in an ankle length cotton dress with long sleeves, a large sunhat with bug net on the crown and light hiking shoes with little white anklet socks!  
It makes quite the sight, and my curiosity is piqued?
She’s carrying a large canvas shoulder bag and, you guessed it, the barking is from a little “pocket” dog in the bag!
I say “hello”, she nods but doesn’t speak and it’s obvious she’s not comfortable being alone with a stranger.
I can’t figure out how she got so far into the park being dressed like a “day camper” or someone on a guided nature hike?
The answer comes when her” paddling” partner emerges from the woods!
A middle aged lanky guy, about 6 ft tall and maybe 150-160 lbs, soaking wet!
He’s carrying a big old aluminum Grumman canoe and the biggest Duluth portage pack I’ve ever seen! It’s a classic old style pack, sans waist belt, with the leather straps digging deep into his shoulders, all the weight of pack and canoe weighing on his shoulders! Packed till the seams bulged, it looks to be a backbreaker by itself?
He’s sweating like crazy and panting from the effort of carrying his humongous load!
Saying hello, he acknowledges my greeting, and weerily looks for a spot to drop his backbreaking load.
I tell to him wait a second and quickly unload and move my canoe, so he can drop his directly into the creek.
He thanks me, and drops his canoe into the water and deftly swings his pack in to canoe just ahead of the stern position and then stops to wipe his brow and take a drink of water.
I ask about where they’ve come from?
Turns out there doing the same loop I am, but in reverse.
They have two more days and then they’re out.
His lady friend seeming slightly annoyed, coughs a few times and gives him the “look” and he wishes me well, taking her hand to help her into the canoe. The sight of this wiry little guy helping this plus sized woman get into the bow seat is something to behold!
It’s no small feat to try to steady canoe and her as she climbs in and begins her perilous trip to the bow!
He slowly wades into the knee deep water supporting her and eventually she’s seated and he’s able to push them off and climb into the stern position. Just when I think it can’t get anymore bizarre,
she reaches into her bag and retrieves a small collapsible parasol, opens it, and just sits there while he paddles down the creek!!!
Even with the pack nestled tight to his knees, they’re still so bow heavy that you can see the keel on the stern of the canoe!
I can hardly contain myself and as soon as they get out of sight, I laugh hard breaking into tears!
The rest of the trip every time I hit a hard portage, I think of that poor SOB, and have to laugh!
I’ve been told that TRUE LOVE has no limits? After seeing this expression of true devotion, I guess it's really true

Last time I was at the Quetico to Beaverhouse portage, (the one with the car?) a guy carrying a stripper and no pack placed the boat into Quetico and sat down and watched me as I was taking out. At the end of my first portage trip, his partner was digging around in a pack but looked up in time to watch me fall on my butt down a muddy bank. (I took the longer extension to avoid that stretch the next two trips.)

At the beginning of my second portage trip the first guy was still sitting there. At the end, the other guy was standing next to one humongous Duluth pack - just standing there. I remember being kind of impressed that they got all their stuff in one single pack but thought it weird he was just standing there..

At the beginning of my third trip, I think the guy might of asked if I'd seen his buddy. At the end of my third portage trip, I kind-of waited around ... turns out neither of them could lift that pack all by themselves.

Now I'm sure I've shared that story here before and I don't remember if it was my second or third trip and it's a short portage but I do remember waiting around just to see why both of them were in pause mode.

WIF,

I had a similar experience my first or second trip in the BWCA.
My paddling partner was my buddy's friend from Atlanta Georgia.
He was in awe of all the fresh water and varied fishing, but a couple canoe loads of NUBILE topless MN college coeds who paddled by us mid-lake, left him a babbling idiot for the rest of the trip THEY made a point to veer in our direction, just too get our re-action.

He was ALL in for the next trip, until he made the mistake of telling his wife about the incident Never made another trip!

db,
 I can't imagine the mentality that would think carrying pack that it takes TWO to hoist would make good portage sense
I can picture losing your footing in a bad spot and busting yourself up real bad.  OR blowing your back out, leaving your buddy too hump everything trying to get you out!

db's account of two guys carrying a Duluth pack & IC's mention of plastic lawn ornaments reminded me of this excerpt from my "Rendezvous in the Bush" story covering the very first Bushwhacker's Jamboree (& Jimboree).  It involves my son Ben & I and took place en route to BWJ during a pounding rain storm, just south of Dore Lake:
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I allowed our Souris River seventeen-footer to drift a little too close to the landing area. The three rookies, each wearing a small pack, reached down and jerked their canoe upward, apparently intending to perform a "triple turtleback" portaging maneuver... something I had never seen before. Sadly, the rear set of this odd turtle's legs crumpled and then stumbled backward under the unexpected weight of the canoe and accumulated rainwater. As the AlumaCraft lifted, a sudden rush of bilge surged to their "rear end", nearest the lake... right where we were. Thus, as the vessel flipped, a waterfall of lures, loose bait, and what-have-you gushed out the rear, emptying directly over Ben's head.

Profuse apologies followed. The struggling portage party, still clad in now deteriorating plastic bags, then became fully turtleback. Spacing themselves evenly underneath their shell, they marched toward Twin Lakes. Ben and I beached our canoe, dried off, and watched. A lively stringer of several smallmouth bass dangled at their collective knees from their overturned thwart bar. Hand-carried rods and paddles poked out willy-nilly in all directions. The odd sight jingled, jangled, and stumbled its way down the path. "Tangle rods" snagged bushes, tree branches, and their legs. Ten minutes later, we caught up with them, gasping for air while lying on the portage path beside their canoe. It lay crossways fully blocking our progress with our own canoe and heavy bags. After about a minute, one of them asked, "Do you want to get by us?" We simply nodded our assent and moved on.

The rain abated somewhat later that evening. We enjoyed "first night steaks" on a fog-laden, skeeter-infested, island campsite in Sturgeon Narrows. We chuckled over our encounter with the park rookies. Ben humbled me, however, reminding me of my own misadventures from "way back when"... which wasn't all that far back. We soon agreed it was better, indeed, to make mistakes as a park rookie and learn than never to venture into The Bush in the first place.
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To witness an actual triple-turtleback portaging maneuver is, indeed, a weird sight.  Looks sort of like a caterpillar.....

Jimbo