10 lessons in the BWCA (#1-5)

Reader, I was going to break my trip recap into two posts: what we did, and what I learned from it. Once I figured out what I wanted to include in the "what we did" post, though, it turned into a zillion-photo extravaganza-bonanza that would probably take another four days to read. Not good.

Thus, here we are: a two-part recap, sorted into 10 of the many things I learned in the Boundary Waters Canoe Area last week (in no particular order).

1) How to be on Wild Time
This was one of the biggest lessons I took away from being in the BWCA: how to be more present, more of the time. We were on Wild Time, which meant no wristwatches and no cell phones. Our group's leader, Chris, had a watch (mostly, I think, to make sure we were on track to get to a campsite sometime in the range of 2 to 4 p.m.), but I very rarely knew what time it was and cared even less often. It was marvelous to paddle hard or leisurely, take an extra moment at breakfast to have another cup of coffee and listen to a poem, and swim at lunch if the mood struck. We had a rough idea of the literal route we wanted to cover each day, but the real journey - how we got there - was up to us.

It took me time to adjust, though. On the first day, Chris asked if people were about ready for lunch and my response was asking out loud what time it was. I learned quickly that we ate when we were hungry, relaxed when we needed a break, pushed hard when conditions called for it, and slept when we were tired. In the mornings, I woke up early when the sky was pink, watched the sunrise, read, and sometimes fell back to sleep for a few minutes before breakfast. Sometimes we sat outside our tents until dusk on the rocks overlooking the water; other times we went to sleep earlier. There was no schedule to keep.

My friend Sara demonstrates the relaxing-on-rocks activity.

2) How quiet (and loud) it can be 
in the BWCA, there are no roads, no motorized boats or other vehicles, and no buildings. Think about what this looks like: no docks sticking out from shore, no houses, no rumbling boats. Sometimes we paddled for long stretches without seeing any other people, and we were just on the BWCA's border lakes, not even deep into the park.

But without all of the noises that cars and boats and lots of people generate, Chris told us that our senses would open up, and she was right. You start to listen instead to wind rustling through the treetops and fish flopping around in the water before the sun rises and the loon calls bouncing off rocks and around the channels of water.

(Lots of loons. So many loons.)

3) How to paddle
Should this have been #1? Probably. I had canoed a few times in my life and kayaked with the family last summer, but truthfully, I was a complete novice. On the first morning of our trip, we packed up all of our group's gear and prepared to get onto the water:

We learned the basic strokes and how to maximize efficiency within those strokes: how to paddle for a long time without tiring out our muscles. Chris said within half an hour, those basic paddling strokes would start to feel like second nature, and she was right. We learned how to sit in the canoes most comfortably and how to fit all of our gear into the boats. We learned that the boats had names and stories behind them. No wonder - they carried us all week, after all. They were a big part of our group!

Later on the first day, I started to learn how to steer from the stern (the back of the boat). Seeing the contrast between how Chris had so effortlessly guided the boat in the morning and how choppily I guided it in the afternoon showed the skills it takes to steer. I practiced the J-stroke and the C-stroke and had moments of clarity when it all started to click, but it was a challenging afternoon, mentally and physically. I slept well that night. We all took turns in bow (front) and stern (back).

One day, I paddled in front and Sara was in the back, and we had to traverse what for us was a long section with dark, choppy water and a pretty strong wind. That was one of the toughest paddles for me (again, both physically and mentally) and when we got through it successfully, I was a happy camper:

4) How to read the surroundings
I haven't camped enough to draw cues from the environment around us the way Chris and more experienced campers in our group could, but just by being out there, you start to learn. I was an enthusiastic member of the Cloud Appreciation Society (as Sara and I dubbed it) on this trip, but I also began to learn more about what each type of cloud predicted for the hours ahead. Sometimes clouds said paddle faster or hurry up or get off the water. We were unbelievably fortunate to get nearly perfect weather: temperatures in the 70s with a warm late August breeze, nearly every day. We had to pull our boats off the water for an impromptu weather delay just once, for 15 minutes or so.

We heard thunder, looked back, and saw this:

I think it was the only time we had to pull out our rain jackets, and it barely sprinkled.

Another example: it was fun to see gigantic dragonflies swooping around the campsite, but that was a sure sign that mosquitoes weren't far behind and that we should be ready to head to our tents soon. (We were also fortunate that this time of the year in the BWCA is after peak bug season, so they weren't horrible.) For dragonflies, mosquitoes are tasty snacks.

The dragonflies photobombed the following picture and in the process made themselves look as big as the paddlers:

Another morning, wispy clouds marked the sunrise:

I thought they sure looked pretty, but Chris thought they meant that we should pack up our tents promptly before the rain arrived. An hour later, the entire sky was overcast, and the rain arrived soon after. The world around us can tell us an awful lot of information, if we watch and listen.

5) How to be a happy camper
Sure, it was a canoe trip, but we spent lots of time in camp, so that space was important to the whole experience, too. The goal, as mentioned earlier, is to find a campsite somewhere in the middle of the afternoon, especially during the busy summer season when the sites are in higher demand. (There are many official campsites inside the BWCA, and each one is up for grabs for the first group of paddlers to arrive and set up home. I believe the sites accommodate up to nine people, so there are several areas where campers can set up their tents.) Sometimes we had two options in close proximity, and we'd scout out the two to compare which ones had better sleeping and swimming spots (and scenic views).

The campsites are usually right on the water and thus easy to spot - and that makes for good views from the tents:

Other tents get set up farther back in the woods:

We'd pull up the canoes and tie them down, sort out our packs, set up the tents, and start prepping for dinner.

We got fresh water every day - usually at breakfast and dinner - by funneling the lake and river water through a pump, which filters out the bad stuff, leaves it safe to drink, and makes a funny duck-like noise along the way. Everybody took turns pumping water for the group.

And our leaders would tend to the the all-important fire:

We used the fire primarily for food preparation (and to boil water for tea, coffee and hot cocoa). Our leaders have been guiding these trips for many years, and they have meal preparation down to a beautiful science. Our meals were wonderful, hearty and warm: pasta with tomato sauce, burritos, and salmon and wild rice.

And at breakfast: coffee and hot foods like pancakes!

All of those steps - fresh water, hot meals, cozy campsites, and lots of swimming opportunities - created a refreshing experience off the water. Our time in camp was just as memorable as the miles we paddled.

Coming up: more about our group, the portages, and clouds, clouds, clouds!