was that 221 days in the BW?Q ?  that wouldn't be a dream trip for me, but a nightmare

don't have a dream trip for BW; - Quetico - maybe just weave a route to go to all of the lakes I haven't visited yet - without having to bushwhack - no bushwhacking for me.  I've been to the majority of lakes I think, most of the lakes except mainly the Knife chain and associated lakes there, and none of the dead-end lakes - (i.e. in and out the same way) - might do a couple of those this year

dream trips - are they the ones you'd like to do but never will ?  I'm planning a trip up in Yukon and NWT for next year - Wind R to Peel R  350 mi I think, and the drive up to Inuvik - but that's a plan, not a dream

After reading the article, my wife and I talked about our dream trip. We agreed that 221 days was too long for us. A month, though, with our boys when they get older would be a lot of fun. I would love to do a border route trip from Crane to South Fowl and then make our way back to Crane but using a different route, maybe hit the southern lakes in the BWCA - or even better, swing up into the Quetico and take that route back.

Now I have to plan the trip and make it a reality. Probably wouldn't happen (at least with the boys) for another ten years or so.

I don’t have a “dream trip”.  I am not thinking of a trip now of any great length because of my age and my limited mobility, so any time in the canoe country is sufficient.

But it doesn’t matter.  I had my dream trip.  The memory of it has lasted for many years now, and the joy of it hasn’t faded.  And the odd thing is, it wasn’t what we planned at all.  You could say it was a disappointment.  Perhaps for Spartan1 it WAS a disappointment in some ways.  But for me, at least, it was my dream trip, and it remains in memory as the best one of all.  We call it “The Long Trip.”

In 1992 we made plans for our “ultimate Boundary Waters adventure”.  I can’t really tell you now what the actual itinerary was, but I know it started from Poplar Lake and it was to include the Frost River and the Louse River.  It was a very ambitious trip, the most rigorous one we had ever tried.  We were going to be out for about three weeks, and away from home for a month.  Spartan1 planned the route, looked up information on the portages, and bought the necessary maps.  We got our gear together and left our college-age son in charge of our home, our flock of sheep, and our large vegetable garden.

It was a fabulous trip!  We were out for 22 days, we visited 42 lakes, canoed 85 miles, double-portaged 3464 rods, and survived one of the coldest late June periods in canoe country history.  You are thinking, “That’s not many miles for 22 days”, right?  And you would be correct.  Because we didn’t end up doing the trip we planned.  We experienced some health situations that made us realize we had planned something that might be beyond our physical limitations, and we opted to go for “Plan B” in the middle of our journey.  But it still was my dream trip.

Why?  Because we experienced so many riches of canoe tripping in that time.  Moose:  13 adult moose, 5 calves.  Two eagles, one wolf, two whitetail deer.  Portages I could never think of doing again:  Kiskadinna-Muskeg, comes to mind.  Camping by the sand beach on Frost Lake and having the rain fly frozen to the tent in the morning.  Waiting out a Nor’Easter on Brule after escaping the worst rollers of our life on Jock Mock Bay.  Photographing each other across the little bay on our “sitting rocks” on beautiful Cherokee Lake in the bright sunshine.  Deciding to lay over on Weird Lake at the tiny campsite because we were being joined by so many moose!  And that last wonderful morning on Caribou when Spartan1 built a little pine fire to warm up, and the loon was calling offshore as he sipped his coffee under the tall pine tree.

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We had rain, we had freezing cold, we had bright sun.  We had difficult portages and some walks in the woods.  We had paddles in silvery calm and paddles in brutal monster waves.  We had long days and layover days.  We heard countless white-throated sparrows and laughing loons.  And soaked up the silence of the Boundary Waters for 22 days.  And on that last morning, as I heard the loon on Caribou Lake calling, and saw Spartan1 standing under the pine tree, I realized that I didn’t want it to end.  I had thought three weeks would be enough.  And it wasn’t.

I cried all the way across the portage from Lizz Lake to Poplar.  We had a “toast” at the end with the last of our blackberry brandy and then, as we were getting in the canoe, Spartan1 said, “You know, it is early yet.  We could paddle down to the end of the lake and have an early lunch at Poplar Lake Lodge”.  (This is what is Trail Center now.)  So we did.  And then we paddled slowly back to Rockwood Lodge, where we had left our car 22 days before.

It was our first trip off the Gunflint.  A great route:  Poplar, Lizz, Swallow, Meeds, Pillsbery, Hensen, Omega, Kiskadinna, Muskeg, Long Island, Gordon, Frost, Octopus, back to Frost (after a rather dramatic insulin reaction incident), Gordon, Cherokee, Skoop, Ada, Sawbill, Kelso, Alton, Smoke, Burnt, Flame, Kelly, Jack, Weird, South and North Temperance, Brule, Juno, the Cones, Cliff, Winchell, Gaskin, Horseshoe, Vista, Caribou, Lizz, Poplar.  With heavy packs and a Grumman canoe.

We learned later that summer that Spartan1 was severely anemic and in the beginning stages of kidney disease.  Our lives began to change greatly, as a new diet began and the countdown to dialysis was always on our minds.  Sixteen years later he began peritoneal dialysis, and in January of 2009 he received his new kidney.  Then in September of 2009 we took our “Celebration” canoe trip.  I suppose you could call that a “Dream Trip”, too.  It was six days out of Sawbill.  Six sunny days in September and very easy and fun. 

But I will always consider that the one in 1992 was the ultimate.  And I will always be very thankful that we managed to do it then.  Before we knew what was coming. 

Thanks for sharing SP2.

I don't know if you intended it this way, but IMHO it says to me that you need to do physical things while you still can because you never know what tomorrow will bring.

When people that don't trip tell me I'm too old for this stuff, I laugh and say I'll let my body decide that, not someone’s well-meaning but mis-guided opinion.

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That would make a great saying on a T-shirt. up