16 years, I believe.

I remember every detail of that trip, and every trip since.

What impressed me most was the vastness of the place, especially the sky.

At night, the clarity was stunning. I sat up night after night, sipping bourbon in a cold metal cup just watching the stars shift.

During the day, huge billowy clouds seemed to sit in a sea of blue, the color of which seemed painfully pure to someone who lives across the Ohio River from Cincinnati.  And the sky seemed frozen, as if on canvas.

But then the wind would suddenly rise up and the personality of the place would change, becoming unpredictable and dangerous and demanding respect.

We came out of Stanton, headed through Dore to the Sturgeon Narrows and out Fern and the three B's.

I remember ....

.... my poncho flapping from the bow of the canoe when a sheet of rain rose up over Blueberry Island and hit us full force in the middle of Sturgeon. (different equipment now)

.... a rainbow on Olifaunt (pictures are inadequate).

.... tangy smallmouth, an hour from lake to stomach (a taste I never tire of).

... waking in a panic to a bear's soft grows and grunts, not realizing for a full minute that it was only snores from the other tent.

... the subtle smell of pine needles and strong smell of pine smoke that seemed to permeate everything -- tent shell, clothes and tongue (a smell that even today evokes the Quetico experience).

... the anxiety of my first big waves in a canoe (waves that today would rank maybe in the top 50).

... cringing as the old guy in the group (someone's father) used and lost what surely had to be antique lures.

... the thrill of my first Northern, and the scratches its teeth left on my lure.

I could go on.

but congrats, Mr. Old Salt, on 40 years. I hope I live long enough and stay healthy enough to talk about my 40th year in the Q.

-- kypaddler

Hey Old Salt, congrats on 40 years and especially that new knee.  It's amazing what they can do these days when it comes to joint replacement.  I was out of canoeing (hell I could barely pull my socks on) for 15 years becasue of my hips.  About 6 years ago I had my second hip replaced and I suddenly got 20 years younger.  Three months after that second surgery I was hiking with my wife in Algonquin and I realized, "I can do this again!"  What a blessing, I'm hopping around now like a young gazelle and so grateful to be able to get back into the bush again.  My wife and I will be doing our first (hard to believe after all these years of tripping) trip into the Q this summer -  three weeks from the middle of August.  I hope your new knee gives you the same pleasure every day as I get from my hips.  Stay in shape, my friend, and you'll have 40 years more.

Congrats Old Salt. Where better to spend 40 years of vacations?

If you count my first trip with my parents to Crane and Sand Point when I was 6 mo. old, this will be 54 years to that country.
My first real trip by myself was in 1972 when I was 16. Another 16 year old and 2 14 year olds went to LLC and McAree and Minn for 9 days.
What were our parents thinking????? I'd never let my kids do that now days. ( Well OK maybe, they are probably better prepared than I was ).
My wife and I will celebrate 34 years of going to Q this summer with our usual 2 week trip the end of July. ( Doing the Cache - Trousers portages for the first time ).
Memories from when I was 16 .... Catching more fish than even a kid knew what to do with. We fished until our arms hurt and we ate more fish than you'd think humanly possible. I caught an 8 lb Walleye. Awesome weather, great company, wolves howling at night. We had a red squirrel get into our food pack - it took 3 days but we finally killed it with rocks and sticks. Revenge is important as a kid...
I camped in the same spot last summer, things have changed a lot, but the important stuff is still the same.... quiet, peaceful, beautiful, relaxing, good fishing. It is a good place to refresh the mind, body and spirit.
Memories from my first trip with my wife in 1978 ( our 2 week honeymoon ).   I can't believe that I was able to talk my wife into going to the Q for a 2 week honeymoon.... Darky River, Brent Lake, Argo Lake.... is there a more beautiful place to spend the start of a lifetime together? We started in a downpour and ended with a beautiful sunset 14 days later. ( My line for the rain was "Big drops, won't last long" ) 3 hours later the sun was out.  She had never camped or canoed before. 34 years later, she can't imagine not going to the Q for vacation.

Lots of random thoughts but I wouldn't change a thing about all my years of paddling in Quetico Park. Thanks OS for the trip down memory lane.

GeneM

That's a long time O_S, feels good I bet. I prefer not to think about being unable to go at some point. This will be my 30th. Missed one year because I was too young and dumb to negotiate vacation time at one job I needed or I may not have wanted to go that year and needed an excuse. I know early on I once paddled out swearing I'd never be back for numerous reasons. Now I just couldn't imagine a year without at least one trip.

My first was a college art course. Early May, 18 people, mostly women. Most of us had no clue whatsoever. One, "The Princess" would only last a week. Slept on a logging road and started out of French. The water level had been raised and lowered a few years before. Scary looking dead trees and mud banks - ugly- I wondered what I had gotten myself into.

Ate prunes for the first time ever - no one seemed to want them and I was hungry. DOH!

Froze my butt off and only dozed in and out due to shivering in my damp Ted Williams bag many nights. 3-4 day stretch of cold rain/drizzel and ill prepared from my head to my frozen toes. My tent partner almost burned down our tent one night. I was hanging by the campfire when someone asked if that was my tent and why was it so bright. As we studied the sight imagining causes, there was a sudden Ouch! ... Oouch! !Zip, zip and out comes a flaming plate of candles to delight the audience.

Going out shooting with the professors was vary enjoyable. I still bushwhack back to a couple very unique spots every time I go that way. I love seeing how places change in different conditions and over the years.

One night another student and I went out to a nice sunset location on a different corner of the lake. The sunset (Mount St. Helens era) lasted forever and then we waited for northern lights. After a while we realized everything looks the same after dark and we didn't really know which island our campsite was on.

And I remember stuffed lakers for our end of semester critique. That became a nice tradition we continued for a long time. Those I miss. I miss Roger Thew when I drive by his place too.

I wasn't all that enthused after my first 4-5 trips. For me the draw became stronger every year. The earlier trips were a means to end. Often uncomfortable sometimes downright miserable, a necessary evil. It took 20 years to be relatively assured of comfort in challenging conditions and fish to eat. It takes a lot longer when all you have is your week or two a year, a book or three and a quarterly to get ideas from.

OS,

Twenty years for me.

This was trip #1 in 1990 =  (You need to Login or Register to view media files and links); ;  never underestiimate the newbie/moron factor!

Wish I could have could have hooked up with you forty years ago; I'd be that much more ahead of the game by now!


Jimbo