6) How to portage
This was the real looming question I had coming into the trip, and I truly had no clue what it would be like. The deal is that the Boundary Waters are tons and tons of little lakes and rivers, linked by small patches of land, and to cut over to the next body of water, you have to lug your gear and boat across that land. The portages are measured in rods, which is the equivalent of 16 feet, and the shortest portages we did were 15-20 rods. The longest was in the mid-200s, I think, which meant it was around 3/4 of a mile.
We'd drop our gear and arrange it based on the length of the portage ahead.
The other trick, besides the magic of hauling your gear across a long, sometimes rocky, sometimes hilly stretch, is that the paths are usually so narrow that you can't have two people carrying a canoe next to them. The canoe gets across each portage upside down, on one person's shoulders. Sometimes one of us could get it the entire way on our own; other times we traded the canoe off to another person and took turns. I took one canoe for a couple of stretches but found that it was more comfortable for me to load myself up with packs and help the group that way; others found that they preferred the canoes to carrying packs. It all worked out. We got used to a couple of portages each day - and as challenging as they could be at their toughest, tromping through the BWCA's woods was actually kind of fun. The highlight, though, is seeing the glittering water poke through the trees at the end of a portage. It seems like an oasis mirage, but it's real, and it means you get to drop your packs (or boat)!
Here we are, approaching a portage:
I definitely left the Boundary Waters with a new understanding of what portaging means.
7) How a group trip works
This was a unique experience for me. I've been on group trips before - the spring break trip in college, the road trip with family - but this was totally different. I knew a few people in this group of women, but many were complete strangers to me when I started the trip.
Your definition of what you find fun, preferable, or challenging is probably different from how someone else defines those things. On a trip like this, people pitch in the best way they can, and the work all gets done: Sara liked portaging canoes better, for example, and I preferred carrying the big packs. Sometimes we'd work together to set up our tent; sometimes we'd trade off tasks and work independently. The beauty of a group like this is how many different skills, interests, and experiences people bring to the table, and the best kind of trip, I imagine, pushes those people to stretch themselves but also honors their strengths.
I think any group works better with strong leaders, too. I really appreciated our guides, felt safe and confident with them in charge, and would do it again in a heartbeat - maybe even without the comfort of a close friend along with me, although I loved traveling with Sara!
8) How to really, really recharge
Sometimes at home recharging means sprawling on the couch and watching mindless TV shows. (And sometimes that's totally okay!) This trip was something very different, though. It meant leaving a cell phone (and the texts, Twitter, Facebook, news sites and email accounts that accompany it) miles and miles away. It meant sitting on a rock and reading or writing...
...or sitting on a rock and doing nothing at all.
It meant getting up to watch the sunrise if that's what nourishes you...
...or sleeping in because that's what your body needs. Recharging is different for everyone (and varies daily for the same person), and this trip struck a balance between challenging us and carving out lots of time to re-energize.
9) How big the sky can be in Minnesota
People in our group talked about states they'd visited where the sky felt more expansive than usual. On this trip, I saw firsthand how enormous the sky can be in my own home state. I wore a baseball hat most of the time to keep the sun off my face. One day, the sun was less intense and I spent the first hour craning my neck to look at every angle of the big, big sky.
10) How it's about the journey, not the destination
You hear this message over and over, in various contexts, but it rarely rang truer to me than when I was in the BWCA. You often start the day without any details about where you'll end it, so without a time deadline or distance requirement, you really do just get to enjoy paddling without thinking about what's coming up later in the day.
And then, like I wrote about earlier, your senses start to open up. You notice a log that looks like it's poking out of the sky...
...or take a closer look at the patch of wild rice through which you're paddling...
...or heck, completely forget to paddle because the reflection is so pretty. (Sorry to my paddling partner at the time!)
A few days later, I am even more grateful for this experience, and I can't wait to go back. Who's with me?
Pick ME! I promise to never "cry" ~
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