Horse Fzce: Still Rolling...

 With our 10 year anniversary approaching, there's still no end in sight.  Please enjoy this clip from a recent outdoor show in downtown Virginia Minnesota.

Our next performance will be at RockBee Music Festival at historic Mesaba Co-op Park the weekend of August 4-6, 2023, and we're putting the final touches on a number of new songs in preparation for recording our 2nd album.  

 

 

May 2021 BWCA Trip Report - Random Conclusions

After taking a few days to consider the ins and outs of the recent canoe trip, I wanted to jot down a few notes for posterity to review before attempting the next adventure, and if anyone out there finds some of the information useful, even better.  As with so many prior outings, "You packed to much stuff...again!" stands out as the primary impression that immediately comes to mind.  Though lacking some of the truly outrageous failures of the past, there were a number of minor mistakes related more to inattentive bag stuffing rather than actual idiocy.  For example, I needed about 100 feet of paracord to properly set up housekeeping, and "somehow" ALL of the paracord currently on hand wound up in the bottom of one of the packs - like...enough to make a good sized salmon net...to stretch across a river.  Also, though I hauled in minnows and a small bait bucket for fishing, the nice ultralight live bait container for which no need existed also found its way to the bottom of that bag along with a superfluous sack of extra titanium tent stakes.  Titanium has a lower weight per volume than most metals to be sure, but looking into a bag first thing in the morning and asking, "WHY do I have this useless item?" makes for a poor start to the day.  Transporting unnecessary metal objects also brought to mind the occasion that some pranksters sneaked a concrete patio block onto the sled of a friend joining us for his first ever winter camping trip for him to discover while unpacking at the end of an arduous, slush-filled slog to a primitive campsite on a remote lake.  "Hilarious."  A full run-down would be pages long and tediously boring, but here's a quick evaluation of just a few specific outstanding pieces of kit:

Thumbs Up:

The Jet Boil - Though still a big fan of OG Coleman gas appliances and the proud owner of a double burner "green suitcase" stove, a single burner backpacking stove, a couple gas lanterns, and all manner of white gas appropriate containers for camping, I picked up a standard Jet Boil unit this spring and will likely never look back.  The thing weighs like 12 ounces WITH one fuel canister, and that tiny 100 gram tank had at least 2 boils left in it after making breakfast and dinner for 4.5 days.  Considering the proliferation of choices of seriously delicious freeze dried entrees from outfits like Mountain House and so many others, I can't imagine ever lugging frozen steaks and actual potatoes (lol!) over a portage ever again.  If the first step in making breakfast was setting water to boil, by the time I discovered a spoon and emptied 3 pouches of oatmeal in the bowl, the water would almost be ready, and the next portion of water for coffee would boil well before the oatmeal had  cooled enough to eat.  Other than the bowl and spoon, there were no dishes to be done, and Rosie knows her way around a "pre-rinse" cycle where camp cookware is concerned.  Though obviously not a workable option for feeding larger groups, on a solo trip, it's truly the correct answer.

Bending Branches - More than 15 years ago, I picked up a Bending Branches Special and used that paddle exclusively on every single canoe outing since from April to November year after year.  Though it still appears to be in perfect condition, a minor concern about its age and the sheer amount of use warranted the acquisition of a new paddle.  Due to slightly depleted inventory and the lack of a BB Special of preferred length, I instead chose a Catalyst 11, and the fact that it's laminated together at the factory from scraps of wood left over from the construction of other paddles really struck a chord.  Going to the local fleet supply store to drop twenty bucks apiece on one or two cheap feather paddles that would inevitably break before fall used to be an annual rite of spring, and the realization that a person can get a durable, high-end paddle made by hand in the USA for what averages out to maybe $10 per year has been a game changer.

Katadyn Hiker Microfilter - The water filter bumping around the bottom of my pack for more than 15 years came from Campmor with the use of a holiday gift card and was at that time manufactured by the PUR company.  The PUR Hiker was so effective and popular that the model lives on today remarkably unchanged.  "If it ain't broke..."  Though new cartridges are a bit on the expensive side, I've found that with proper use and care, it's possible to get by with only one replacement per season.  When you're out in the elements all day and needing more water than usual, the importance of the ability to pump two or more gallons of clean, potable water in just a couple minutes cannot be understated.  Again, this may not be the answer to providing a large group with drinking water, but in a solo situation or even with two or three people on board, this extremely simple and reliable water filter does the job perfectly. 

Some other great items that kicked butt as expected were the Helinox Chair Zero with soft ground attachment (you could SLEEP in that thing), the spine-saving Big Agnes Q-core Deluxe (I'll never go to bed on the ground without it), The Humminbird Piranha portable depth finder, and the rented Wenonah Prism canoe.  With me, the dog, and 130ish pounds of gear, my average laid-back "all day" paddling cadence in a slight headwind produced an average speed of 3.5 mph which is just astounding.  It takes a bit to get used to, but it's an extremely efficient and well engineered little boat.    

On the Fence / Not So Sure:

Crocs - Having once half-jokingly made the statement "Kindhearted people don't wear camouflage clothing in public," I feel the same way about these weirdo plastic gardening shoes, BUT...for me they've stood out for years as a reasonable choice of footwear for warm weather canoeing and kayaking.  Lightweight, packable, durable, fairly comfortable, and quick to dry, Crocs possess most of the qualities of desirable camping gear.  Though I've done it in the past with no problems, after spending the better part of five days stomping around in a pair on that recent canoe trip, I returned home with the second and third toes on BOTH feet painfully beat up and raw, and it took days for them to properly heal.  Had this been a longer outing, the choice of Crocs as primary "around camp" footwear would have been a mistake.  Some online research upon returning home revealed a number of possibly better options, and after my lovely Mrs. delivered a pair of Teva Flintwoods (pictured), I tried them on, marveled at the level of comfort and arch support, and immediately went out for a quick RUN in them with not one single issue - nothing short of amazing for "water shoes."  The Crocs can stay by the side door as fast slip-on shoes for taking out the dog and grabbing the mail, but they are off the canoe trip packing list.  (Be sure to click on the "Crocs" link up there.  <smirk>)

MSR Zoic 2 Tent - In the early 00's, I picked up a factory second of that era's model of a Eureka Tetragon 3 (a 2 pole, 3+ season dome tent) from the "bargain bin" at Campmor for $79, and though a killer tent that thanks to regular maintenance is still 100% waterproof and in usealbe condition, I wanted to try something new.  After receiving a considerable rebate from an online retailer, I chose the MSR Zoic, and though lightweight and easy to set up, there was something about the layout of the mesh screening of the inner tent that seemed odd.  The rainfly sits atop the tent in such a manner that it's possible for the wind to sneak underneath in spots, and inner mesh extends down the tent wall far enough to let the breeze blow in ever so slightly whether you want it to or not.  Also, a 2 inch rip mysteriously appeared in one of the doors by the end of the trip that now needs to be repaired, and I'm left with a mildly dissatisfied "2 out of 5 stars" feeling about this new tent.

Other items earning a "hmmmmm face" from the trip were my 2 pound "robust" first aid kit that I didn't open one single time, the individually bagged portions of nuts, candy bars, and jerky that all got hauled back home, and the moderately heavy 3 D cell LED lantern that, though nice to have, didn't really get used.       

Thumbs Down:

Vonidor Am / Fm Radio - Based on positive reviews and the specified very low weight, I got a cheap radio for news, weather, and a bit of quiet background noise if needed.  Unbelievably, it not only failed to receive the local "high powered" stations WEVE and WTBX available literally everywhere in N.E. MN, but it couldn't even pull in WELY from less than 20 miles away.  Even worse - and more strangely - the one frequency it did pick up was a Christian radio station I'd never heard of, and it did so with such amazing clarity it was as though I was IN the studio.  Predictably, a repressed-sounding "person of faith" was bashing the President and the Democrats as the dial scrolled past.  It's a fact that hearing angry words about anything remotely political from the pulpit means you are attending a rotten church, and the radio got turned off immediately and nearly wound up in the lake.  It's back to the drawing board where an inexpensive, lightweight camp radio is concerned.

My P.O.S. Camping "Dog Bed" (A Gear Review by Rosie) - The loud, dumb guy dragged me away from cozy digs and the gracious, beautiful lady at home, stuck me in a cold, cramped canoe for hours, made me haul his stupid junk through the woods like a common mule, watched me get attacked by a million bugs for DAYS with his mouth fecklessly agape, and then expected me to sleep on a dirty old foam mat that was part of HIS farty sleeping pad 20 years ago before it ripped.  Gross. If that wasn't bad enough, he gave me half of a military surplus itchy wool blanket to stay "warm."  I can tell he knows it's terrible because every time I sneaked over onto his nice sleeping bag and mattress pad (every time I had the chance), he would hardly yell, and I gave him my most dramatic "sad face" enough times to make my point.  That inferior system has got to go because I deserve new and more appropriate sleeping arrangements.

Beyond thoughts about equipment and supplies, memories of the weather and the insect situation on this trip will continue to stand out.  Daytime temperatures in the high 60s and nighttime lows in the 40s are ideal for canoe camping.  The 28°F low on the first morning was a bit cold but tolerable, but the 83°F high along with the humidity on the final day was pushing my personal comfort level for a travel day.  In retrospect, though the black flies were as bad as I've ever experienced them in May, I wouldn't postpone a trip to avoid them but would definitely think twice about bringing the dog.  We were saved on this outing by a fairly consistent stiff breeze and the ability to use that to our advantage to hold them at bay, but had that been five days with little or no wind, it would have been a different story.

By Saturday night, 5 of the 9 sites on the lake including mine were occupied, and though I never felt overly crowded on Pine Lake, the Monday that I headed home resulted in more interactions with other people on Trout Lake than I've ever had on a S.W. Region fishing opener trip.  Though likely to be met with loud disagreement, I hope that the next time the rules concerning access to the BWCA are re-evaluated, the USFS considers further limiting or restricting altogether motorized access to Trout Lake.  Based on my observations over the last 25 years, maybe 5% of the boaters on Trout Lake actually need powered watercraft, and the other 95% are younger people with too much stuff or folks who are simply out "glamping" - traveling to and getting safely situated on Trout Lake is easily accomplished without a 25hp motor...or any motor at all.

That's all for now. I'm working on a updated equipment list in advance of the next trip, and that will be posted somewhere. Thanks again for reading.  :-)

"He who would travel happily must travel light." ~ Antoine de Saint-Exupéry                       

          

Solo Canoeing and Camping in the S.W. Region of Minnesota’s BWCAW – May 2021

When seeking adventure out of doors, paddling a canoe with my dog, camping in the forest, fishing for walleyes on Minnesota’s incomparable public waters, or enjoying nature in whatever capacity, I prefer to be alone…to a fault.  In May of 1992 after watching me catch and release one tiny “cigar” sized fish, a guy from Cottage Grove MN frantically motored over to the spot I was occupying and actually bumped his boat into mine in an act of unbelievable rudeness.  At that moment it dawned on me that, though the lake of countless childhood memories, the growing popularity of and changing attitudes toward Lake Vermilion finally rendered it incompatible with my expectations – to a Walmart-like degree - and I dedicated the following decade to the search for a superior experience. 

Truly blessed by a family and employment situation not shared by my group of friends that accommodated multi-day excursions not tied to weekends or holidays, these initial outings in search of solitude were by default solo endeavors, and the first trip took the form of a ridiculously punishing trek through the Southwest Region of the BWCA from Lake Vermilion to Burntside Lake.  Feeling somehow unsatisfied by that ordeal and wanting to “work out the bugs,” I followed nearly the same route the following spring.  Looking back, the exclamation “What a dumb kid!” comes immediately to mind, but obviously at the time it made sense.  Have you ever carried a heavy royalex canoe and too much gear over land a distance more than you actually paddled to spend the night at the uncomfortable, rocky, seldom-visited campsite on murky Glenmore Lake?  I have.  <groan>  Do you have any idea why someone (not me) took a sharpie and scrawled “The Ball Buster!” on the sign marking the start of The Crab Lake Portage?  I do.  <eyeroll>

Due to the prospect of paddling a canoe across large lakes like Vermilion and Trout, canoe traffic in this section of the wilderness area is slightly lower than the rest of the BWCA, and if the icy cold waters don’t kill you during an “unplanned swim,” then the likelihood of encountering other people in May is low.  As these early adventures to quiet lakes to mark the beginning of each year’s fishing season evolved, more “reasonable” destinations like Buck, Western, and Pine Lake piqued my interest, and I visited each one several times with varying degrees of success from “smiled and lost count at ___ walleyes” to “shivered and identified 15 distinct types of precipitation.”  On one of these annual trips, a particular campsite on Pine Lake really grabbed me, and the discovery of that isolated haven and the partial solution to that lake’s unique “puzzle” put an end to my search. 

Out of a sense of tradition, I reserve a permit when the system goes online every January, but for the last ten or more years, that reservation was made with the understanding that unforeseeable circumstances could get in the way of the trip.  Kids’ school events, late ice-out dates, illness, band schedules, etc. all thwarted past plans, so the excitement from the possibility of this year’s adventure being a ‘go’ became all encompassing.  Gear sorting and meal planning started in early March, and concerned about a chronic but mercifully dormant back problem and age-related lack of fitness, I also embarked upon a personal journey towards better health that left me nearly 25 pounds lighter and feeling better than I have in years.  With all the elements necessary for a successful canoe camping trip to the BWCA reasonably in order, a 3 a.m. alarm awaited my understandably unenthusiastic taxi service driver and me, and despite past experiences with restless sleep and anxious dreams on the eve of similar events, I slept quite soundly.

Day One - Though my tolerance for the concept of “other people” while relaxing outdoors increased somewhat with age, as a humorous tip of the hat to past truths, I approached elements of this outing from the point of view of an antisocial and annoyed 20-something, and in the interest of getting through “Walmart” on the Thursday morning before the fishing opener when nobody was around and returning after the weekend when relative quiet returned to the lake – the years-old original concept behind this trip - I stood in the sand at Moccasin Point and hugged my lovely Mrs. goodbye before loading Rosie the Labrador into the boat and sliding quietly off into the darkness of 4 a.m. under the hint of gathering twilight.  In favorable conditions with no wind and an air temperate around 30°F (-1°C), the 3.6 mile (5.8 km) jaunt from the landing to the Trout Lake River progressed quickly, and the triple portage into Trout Lake took only 30 minutes.  Knowing that the wind for the rest of the day even at its highest forecast speed would be insufficient to create dangerous conditions in and of itself, I happily dug in for an exciting big-water crossing, and the 5 mile (8 km) haul across the expanse of Trout Lake ended at the sand beach adjacent to the mouth of Pine Creek with my face tired from smiling.  I traversed that stretch of lake only a handful of times, and in a small solo canoe, it’s an experience that beautifully illustrates the adage “the joy is in the journey.” 

 

Pine Creek at Trout Lake

With the potentially hazardous open water behind us, Rosie and I tackled the portage around the rapids to the navigable beginning of Pine Creek, and upon first arriving at the upstream end of the trail, a swarm of hated Black Flies (a.k.a. “Sand Files” or “gnats”) fell upon us.  Though common in the area to varying degrees, their numbers this time around proved a constant nuisance that dictated many of the plans and decisions in the coming days.  A nice southerly breeze kept them at bay for most of the paddle up Pine Creek, and though that specific route added 3.5 miles (5.6 km) and more than two hours and four beaver dams to our outbound leg, in retrospect I arrived at camp far less beat up and worn down than I did back at home after returning via the long portage between lakes.  Due to unusually low spring water levels, the two known “rocky sections” of Pine Creek increased to four, and the threat of smashing a somewhat fragile kevlar rental canoe into an invisible rock hiding in the stained water forced slower paddling speeds that partially accounted for the increased trip time.  When the creek opened to the northern bay of Pine Lake around 11 a.m., we found the lake deserted, and I pointed the canoe towards the favorite campsite not visited in so many years.

Immediately tending to the large oxygen pack of rainbow chubs (technically Northern Redbelly Dace) expertly prepared by the world’s most knowledgeable bait shop attendant at Lucky 7 Sports in Virginia MN at 5 p.m. the previous day (NO dead minnows!), I then hauled gear from the sand beach landing up to the fire area, pitched my new tent, hung a tarp, and established a tidy, orderly camp. As expected, the previous campers left no firewood, so I hiked up the ridge behind the site and scavenged successfully for some downed maple. With everything squared away, the activities of the day and early wake-up call began to take a toll, and in a nicely shaded tent under a taught, quiet tarp with a perfect breeze blowing through the screens, Rosie and I settled down for what turned into a four-hour nap. We crawled out of the tent around 6 p.m., did a few more chores, made a nice dinner, and sat by the fire until turning in for the night after taking in a spectacular sunset. 

 

Day Two - Because the 2021 fishing season started at 12:00 a.m. Saturday, I planned to lounge around and do some exploring on Friday, so we slept in until almost 10 a.m.  As a life-long unapologetic camping "sleep-insky," a number of past trip mates raised an eyebrow about the extent to which I seriously enjoy sleeping in a tent, but my like-minded, loyal companion Rosie’s name does not appear on that list of fidgety "wake-up-niks," and after a quick, filling breakfast and some time IN the smoke of a small campfire to ward off the flies, we loaded the canoe with everything that couldn’t be risked to a bear incursion in our absence and headed out into the bug-hindering breeze to look around the lake. 

Inspired by a fond memory of an excellent afternoon spent relaxing on the sand beach near the mouth of Buck Creek, one step of pre-trip planning involved flying around the lake on Google Earth to identify as many other beaches as possible with the intent of visiting each one for at least a few minutes. I marked them off on the inset map, and the first one at which we stopped showed no sign of human activity. As the sandy area stretched around the point, it gave way to gravel that sloped off into the depths and appeared to be an extremely likely area for evening fishing. I tromped around looking for possible firewood without success, and from there we headed all the way across the lake to check out another interesting geographic feature.

Indulging a nearly life-long interest in beaver dams and the impoundments they create, we sought out the beaver pond closest to the lake clearly visible on G.E. that blocks the channel of an unnamed stream that flows in on the western shore, and after an easy landing and quick hike through a stand of Ash and Maple trees, an impressive dam appeared.  Solidly constructed in a small gap between two Ely Greenstone outcroppings through which the stream passed, the structure stood nearly 10 feet (3m) high, and judging by both the ideal location for a small, stout dam and the absence of any dead, standing trees in the 23 acre (9 ha) pond, it appeared that beavers lived there for centuries.  Though they were loudly bothered to see an untanned doofus and his black duck dog snooping around, I was thrilled to jump a small flock of Lesser Scaup commonly known as “Bluebills.”  I bumped into a large group of them on Rice Bay of Lake Vermilion two weeks prior, and the big flock of ducks that I initially misidentified as Ringbills on the paddle in on Pine Creek the day before were also Bluebills.  Their numbers have been in steady decline over the last 30 years, and counting more spring sightings in two weeks than in the last 10 years gave me a bit of hope for their recovery. 

From that quick aquatic rodent-related tour, Rosie and I got back on the water and resumed our beach mission, but as we headed north, what appeared to be pilings jutting from the water caught my eye. Influenced by prolonged exposure to an expert about the early logging days in Minnesota, felt compelled to check it out, and indeed the 120+ year old remnants of one of the countless temporary narrow-gauge logging railroad spurs stood forgotten in the water at the edge of the lake buttressed by a substantial amount of still-intact underwater cribbing and rock work. The thought that hundreds of people once lived and worked together logging an area that took me half a day to reach lent an oddly unsettling air of isolation to the spot, and I headed off towards the next beach paddling through the channels formed by several small, picturesque islands.

The full shielding from the south wind by trees surely provided the nasty flies with a veritable kingdom at the beach in the narrow bay on the southern side of the lake, so I checked it off the list after visual confirmation while paddling past and instead pulled ashore on the large one at the north end of the lake.  Though picked on relentlessly for my choice of warm weather canoe trip beverages, it's my opinion that vodka can be quite palatable in adverse conditions, and it combines nicely with light weight, packable powdered lemonade mix, so I poured a vodka lemonade and waded up and down the beach taking in the scenery.  Rosie and I also hiked to the end of the nearby point to find the remains of a winter camp site and then stumbled upon a downed maple tree on the way back which got bucked up into a nice pile of firewood for transport.  Before a quick stop on the very wind-swept, black-fly-less beach at the mouth of Buck Creek where Rosie showed her true, rugged colors by crashing out dead asleep in the blooming Leatherleaf and grass, we canoed home where we followed the routine of the previous day by taking a nap and then getting up for a nice dinner, a long fire, another fantastic sunset, and bed.

 

Day Three - Whereas in the days of my youth the annual opening of the Minnesota walleye fishing season often found me in a boat near the end of Dodge Point on Lake Vermilion excitedly angling in the dark at 12:01 a.m. determined to catch a limit of 6 fish before heading home and retiring to bed, this year's approach was to sleep in…until 10 a.m. When Rosie and I finally rolled out of the tent, the black flies swarmed us almost immediately, and I quickly built a deliberately smokey fire to ward them off. Though the attempt at packing the proper amount of food for this adventure predictably failed because I somehow ended up with 10 days’ worth of food for a 5 day trip, a new approach to breakfast stood out as a rare success. For undetermined reasons, my parents would occasionally serve Spam to my siblings and me at the cabin in the summer, usually with eggs, and though it never appears in my diet under normal circumstances, it’s not the worst option for a “meat-like substance” to add protein, fat, and sodium to the diet of a person traveling light and living out of doors. During the packing process, I loaded 5 zip-loc bags with a portion of Duncan Doughnuts coffee sufficient to pack a portable coffee brewer, a small amount of sugar, 3 pouches of apple cinnamon oatmeal, and a single serving foil pack of Spam for an easy and substantial 750+ calorie breakfast prepared with only two quick Jetboil cycles. Despite hauling home many serving-sized baggies of cashews and beef jerky, a pound of bite sized Snickers bars, 7 freeze dried entrees, and like 9 un-eaten Cliff Bars, my 5 breakfast packs disappeared, and that left me with the intriguing future challenge of creating a similar successful menu and packing scheme for all of each days’ rations.

After gathering a bit of wood, lounging by the fire, and reveling in much expert level goof-off-ery, I finally worked up the gumption to complete the familiar, mildly daunting task of loading vital gear and supplies into the boat along with Rosie, and around 3 p.m. we headed off to try a bit of fishing.  Still in an exploratory state of mind, I tied on a fire tiger Rapala well suited to the moderately stained water, anchored my spinning rod between the portable fish locator's transducer clamp and the gunnel of the canoe, and headed off trolling along the shore using the speed feature on the GPS receiver to stay at or around 2 mph (3.2 kph).  The extent to which a person can fully absorb the finest details of a landscape while moving slowly past in a canoe strikes me with the awe of a new experience every time I follow a shoreline, and the hours spent putting along to south end of Pine Lake and back that day were no exception.

 

Rounding a corner and paddling beyond a stony point, the locator suddenly showed a depth of only three feet with small boulders, and despite taking action to avoid trouble, my lure became briefly hung up in the rocks.  I luckily managed to free it without stopping or retrieving any line, and as the bottom dropped away on the other side of the point, a hungry “lake monster” rose from the shadowy depths and slammed the bait.  The ferocity of the strike, the sensation of dead weight, and the buzz of the reel’s drag during a long run suggested a Smallmouth Bass or Northern Pike, but I let out a spontaneous “Woo-Hoo!!” when the first fish of the year came into view.  Over the next few days of moderate fishing success, it appeared the lake held a strong year class of walleyes in the 2.5 to 3 pound (1.1 to 1.3 kg) range.  Though the source of much prior debate with incredulous fishing partners, according to my personal preference, a walleye of that size makes for undesirable table fare, and since they are likely spawning females, they’re best released in favor of smaller fish - The End.  Fight me.  ;-)

 

Doing a bit more trolling in the wake of an uneasy run-in with two other people in a canoe (meaning I spotted them briefly from over a mile away), I arrived at the Ossawinnamakee Peninsula, an Ojibwe sacred site according to a trusted source, and from there paddled through the narrows and all the way to the mouth of Glenmore Creek pictured here.  The majestic chunk of Greenstone standing sentinel at the creek mouth suggested some sort of epic mythology while in stark contrast, the unimpressive “one star” USFS campsite on the south shoreline evoked the piteous “womp womp” of a lesser landmark.  When that bit or touring was over, I headed back up the lake and chose a spot to angle during the 90 minutes surrounding sunset.

 

Eric’s Spring Walleye Fishing Secrets – The Short Version:  From the time that the ice goes out on a lake unit the time that they spawn, walleyes move to the areas adjacent to their spawning beds and are fairly difficult to catch.  During the time they are actively spawning when the water ranges from 40 to 50 degrees, walleyes are very difficult to catch, and the females will eat very little if at all.  After completing spawning, walleyes go on a month+ long feeding frenzy and are extremely easy to catch.  This lasts until the massive hatch of the largest species of Mayfly (Hexagenia limbate) that fills the skies and clogs the shorelines at which point walleyes again become difficult to catch, and from there on, successful summer angling for the species becomes hit or miss and quite picky and explains the species' reputation as “elusive.”  The progression of this cycle in relation to the set date of the start of the fishing season depends on the weather any given spring, and this particular fishing opener on Pine Lake arrived during a post-spawn posture with water temperatures around 60 degrees.  In that situation, pick any stretch of land or island shoreline, identify a point that has been in the sun all day with a bottom that slopes gradually to deep water, toss out a minnow, and catch as many fish as you need.  Don’t tell anyone you heard this from me.   “Hey, Mr. Hick Weirdo – say ‘spawn’ again.”  No.  ;-)

 

Sorting through a truly entertaining number of predominant year class sized fish, I finally caught the 1 pound (.5 kg) entrée for which I searched and made quick work of the jaunt back to camp with nearly 7 miles (11 km) of padding on the day’s odometer.  Multiple-day outings develop predictable rhythms, and as with previous evenings, I made a fire, sorted gear, had a lovely dinner (with some fish this time), took in another breathtaking sunset, and hit the hay.  Mission accomplished.

    

Day Four - Aware of some minor aches and pains and concerned about tackling the route home in a diminished state, I resolved to spend Sunday relaxing as much as possible and avoiding unnecessary physical exertion.  Mildly dreading the coming day’s early wake-up call, Rosie and I stayed in the tent until nearly 11 a.m., but after breakfast and a bit of lazing about, the firewood situation at camp drew my ire.  One final “big” camping mission took shape, and with a literal hose-down with insect repellent, I grabbed the Bob Dustrude Quick Buck saw (the ONLY saw to carry in canoe country – made in MN, too) and headed up the tall ridge in the forest behind camp.  A few steps after departing the trail to the latrine in search of higher elevations, we interrupted the friendly neighborhood “drum circle” by spooking a chunky Ruffed Grouse off his drumming log.  He was so focused on the business of courtship that it took him a couple seconds to “deflate” while scurrying off into the bush, and amusingly enough my supposed “expert” upland game hunting dog only halfheartedly trailed after him.  I spotted two larger “down and dead” Maple trees knocked over by high winds, bucked them up into manageable sections, made 6 trips up and down the 90 foot (27 m) high ridge, and amassed a respectable pile of the region’s supreme firewood next to the grate back at camp.  I’ve found that in normal canoe camping situations, a sharp, stiff-backed machete is lighter, far safer, and equally as useful as a comparatively heavy axe, and using mine with a knotty piece of wood as a mallet, I produced a woodpile of split maple that was truly a thing of beauty.  After arriving at a remote campsite in the rain many years ago with a partner approaching hypothermia in need of immediate warmth only to find no easy firewood around camp, I’ve made it a point to leave enough wood behind for the next visitor to have a substantial fire immediately upon arrival, and upon our departure on Monday morning, more than half of the pictured woodpile remained.  It would be great if more people built that practice into their canoe country etiquette. 

 

Having enjoyed a long cocktail “hour” in the tent and under the tarp waiting out the one very welcome and needed heavy downpour of the week – with lots of lightning - the daily sorting of gear in advance of another evening fishing foray took place with a focus on preparing for the coming travel day, and in the interest of paddling as little as possible, I chose to fish the point with the western exposure closest to camp.  I caught and released a couple hefty walleyes and returned with a successfully targeted 1 pound delicacy, and with another delicious hot meal on board, I kicked back with my dog to the spring chorus of all woodland creatures amped up by the day’s rain and absorbed to the fullest the exquisite beauty of Pine Lake mesmerized by the final blazing sunset of the trip. 

 

Day Five - Thinking wishfully the night before, I set an alarm for 3 a.m., and when it went off, I popped out of the tent, used the restroom, scoffed aloud at the idea of being awake at 3 a.m. while camping, and reset the alarm for 5.  Despite experiencing it firsthand in disbelief, the black fly problem unbelievably appeared to worsen by the day, and even in the cool morning air at 5 a.m. after the second alarm, there were already flies swarming Rosie and me.  Breaking camp and packing up went quickly, and after policing the area for misplaced items and bits of debris, I said goodbye and thank you to Pine Lake Camp and pushed away from shore.  The weather forecast called for a humid day with a high of 83°F (28°C) and 10 mph (16 kph) south winds gusting to 15 (24), so I chose to avoid most of the big water on Trout Lake and headed instead toward the portage.  At 260 rods (.8 mi or 1.3 km), the portage is nothing at which to scoff, and despite carelessly over-packing planning to triple portage on the way in, I reduced and rearranged gear intent on double portaging on the way home. 

 

A person can follow the path of the portage from Pine to Trout Lake on Google Earth, and the first section that crosses the floating bog through thick Leatherleaf has been improved the by the USFS to minimize erosion and lessen long-term environmental damage.  Passing through, I recalled a year when the trail over the bog was fully submerged under ankle-deep, leech-filled water, and just after crossing the second plank walkway, a kindly southern-sounding voice erupted from up ahead.  A gentleman walking in from Trout Lake to fish from shore excitedly lavished praise on Rosie who was trucking along with a decent load in her Granite Gear dog pack apparently looking impressively business-like.  Though overly long, the portage is easy enough, and after spending the better part of 4 days on tannin-stained Pine Lake, at first view the blue-green sparkling clarity of the waters of Trout Lake briefly took my breath.  I did the first trip with the medium dry bag holding cookware, fishing stuff, and the remainder of the food (5 flippin’ more days worth), and tossed the canoe on my shoulders for good measure, and when we arrived back at the Pine Lake side for the final load, a group of four other travelers surprised me.  Though I had Rosie’s slip lead in my pocket, she ran ahead and quickly made friends, and when I sternly called to her, they rebuffed my command and said, “Oh!  We LOVE your dog.”  Then, after making out my face, one of the members of the crew absolutely yelled “A HEAD NET!  You’re smarter than us!  I have FOUR of them just sitting on my workbench at home because I didn’t think we would need them this early in the year.”  I said, “Yeah.  These black flies are OUT of control.  I don’t usually complain much about bugs in Minnesota, but they made this trip…difficult.”  They disappeared down the portage by the time I had the trusty 100+ pound internal frame backpacked loaded on my shoulders, and after surviving the hike back down the trail, the short paddle from the Pine Lake Portage to the Trout River Portage passed by all too quickly.

Determined to keep my arms and legs covered as much as possible while in the woods on the portages and not wanting to sacrifice the arch / ankle support and sure traction of my heavy neoprene portage boots, I held out hot and sweating until the final trip to the Vermilion side of the Trout River portage…and then wildly stripped off my clothes as the temperature climbed nearly to the heat of the day.  As with every visit, I wished that fantastic river was miles long rather than yards, and turning the corner to the lake, I observed a genius struggling to un-beach his giant mutant boat from a sandbar as his family looked on...from inside the boat.  As if that scene didn’t remind me enough of why I’d gone to such great lengths to avoid Lake Vermilion, I looked away and to my right only to see another guy cast a baited walleye jig into heavy weeds in knee-deep water who then gave ME the “stink eye” when it came back trailing a slimy salad-worth of aquatic vegetation.  There could have been no more ridiculous a "welcome party" for a paddler leaving the wilderness and returning to an overcrowded residential lake - perfect.   “Serenity Now!  Huh, Rosie?” I muttered to my dog as we barreled out into the medium chop of the windward side of “behind Pine Island.” 

 

Depending on the weather, the passage from Trout Lake to Moccasin Point on Lake Vermilion can be sketchy in the largest of watercraft, and due to the potential for trouble, it should never be attempted in a canoe without careful consideration up front, diligent focus while underway, and an emergency plan in the event of trouble.  If you haven’t taken a canoe or kayak safety and rescue course, you have no business paddling that stretch of water and even less so in May when the water is cold enough to kill.  With only a 5 minute break floating blissfully amid the boulders in the lee of Meads Island where I enjoyed a Cliff Bar and some Gatorade while remembering the times as a teenager catching and releasing ALL the smallmouth bass in the area, I completed the stretch in one shot without incident.  As St. Mary’s Island came into view, I pulled off into a placid cove to call my lovely Mrs., and 50 minutes later she greeted me back on the sand at Moccasin Point.  She loved up Rosie while I shuttled gear to the back of the car, and when she saw the tea-colored drinking water in the plastic bottle filtered from Pine Lake, she rolled her eyes, invoked the T.P.B's, and said, “Nice pi$$ jug, Ricky” delivering the first smirking jab of about a hundred exchanged on our drive to Ely where we dropped off the rental at The Piragis Northwoods Company - truly a first class operation and highly recommended for ALL your gear and outfitting needs!

 

Though a fairly conservative “base camp” style trip with only 40 miles tackled over the course of 5 days, my short adventure to the S.W. Region of the BWCA after a long absence more than ticked the boxes for quiet solitude, comfortable camping, good fishing, and satisfying outdoor activity, and I took heart from the reassuring proof that even at 51 years old, my ageing carcass can still stand up to quite a bit of abuse and come through it without any lingering aches or injuries.  Feeling a bit “back in the game,” plans exist for another go if it toward the end of August or possibly early September…when there will be NO biting insects around.  As always, the stunning beauty of this priceless wilderness area brought me back down to earth, and the business of living simply – deliberately - one day at a time in the woods served to hit the reset button for a number of compartments of the psyche.  If you haven’t taken advantage of Minnesota’s endless public lands and water ways recently, I recommend that you start making plans to do so before summer’s end, and to resurrect the battle cry of my former blog, “Turn off your computer, and go outside!”  Thanks for reading.  <3

New Music Videos:

Hey, look!  Beloved N.E. Minnesota photographer and videographer Ron "Ranger Ron" Kutsi recently captured a couple numbers from two of my current bands.

My acoustic duo Horse Fzce just finished the recording phase of our first CD at amazing Sparta Sound in Sparta Minnesota, and those tracks now need to be sent off for mastering before being printed and packaged as a saleable product.  As a “bonus track,” we thought it would be interesting to attempt one of the tunes as a 4 piece electric combo with bass and drums, and the fun and success of that collaboration spurred us on to perform the second half of our set at our local 218 Taphouse’s 2^nd summer of 2019 street show in Virginia Minnesota as a full band.  With our friends James Collins on drums and Tom Fricheck on bass, we presented six of our usual tunes in the new format, and the large crowd received the new act warmly.  The tune “Butterfly” embedded in this post was the first song at our first ever public performance with this new line-up, and I still can’t get over how very fortunate we were to have Ron on the spot capturing the footage.

Because they’re always well attended and have such a positive vibe, local musicians clamber to get on the bill at these street shows, yet due to an unfortunate cancelation the day of the event and a last minute scramble for a replacement, my hard rockin’ band Souler accepted an invitation to fill in – and I was lucky enough to perform at two in a row.  Heh heh...

Though a series of strong thunderstorms pushed the festivities indoors, a nice sized crowd remained, and once again our friend Ron stood by with his cameras and filmed the first ever public presentation of James Collins’ new tune “In a Minute.”  Our onstage sound situation was less than ideal due to the lack of a sound check or monitors, and though we all had minor issues with our personal performances, as a band we generally approved of the number.  This video also captures my brand of poorly planned, "sloppy but passable" guitar solos at the "4 to 6 beer level."  ;-)

 

I recently overheard an older local fellow exclaim, “I’m tellin’ ya…Da Range IS the Nashville of the North!”  I’m  not sure about that, but I can attest to the fact that we have a LOT of really great music happening here, and the ever growing number of folks who’ll enthusiastically show up to take in “locally-grown” original music gives me a lot of hope for the future of our arts and music community. 

The Iron Range Original Music Associaton ROCKS Again...

Original Artwork by Shaun Chosa

Please enjoy (or don't...) the recent article that Virginia Minnesota's Hometown Focus newspaper was kind enough to publish on behalf of my musical friends and me.  It's my understanding that the author is a "middle aged man with a silly, hipster attitude":

Iron Range Original Music Association to Present 11 Band Multi Venue Fall Showcase

 On Friday September 23 the members of the Iron Range Original Music Association (IROMA) in their continued mission to promote and popularize the creation and performance of original live music will come  together to present a unique Multi Venue Fall Showcase featuring 11 local bands performing original compositions at 3 different locations in downtown Virginia.  Based loosely on the recent popular Duluth Homegrown Iron Range Invasions, this exciting evening of music will bring to the stage a variety of styles and sounds unique to the Iron Range.

Horse Fzce (Photo by Ron Kutsi)

The event kicks off at 7 p.m. at The 218 Taphouse with the much heralded debut performance of the acoustic duo “Selah and Josh” featuring Orr native Selah Reid and Aurora area favorite Josh Palmi.  Popular Virginia duo Horse Fzce, a collaboration between classically trained vocalist Heather Surla and guitarist Eric Krenz , goes on at 8.  Comprised of former members of 4 Horse Johnson and a few other special guests including guitarist Dan Boyer, Karl Sundquist’s new project Big Waves and Bonfire goes on at 9 to perform laid back acoustic music.  A three piece version of the Hibbing area’s most popular rock band Hobo Revival featuring Kim Grillo Nagler, Robert Klaysmat, and Joe Gibbon rounds off the Taphouse’s line up at 10.

Bands performing concurrently with minimal overlap at The Rainy Lake include loveable Virginia hooligans The Iron Range Outlaw Brigade made up of Kirk Kjenaas, John Peterson, Glen Mattson, and Fred Hanson.  They describe themselves as a northwoods dirty punk rock country band bitterer than a shot of Wild Turkey.  They’ll stomp the stage at 8:30 p.m. followed by Minnesota music icon and Eveleth legend Rich Mattson’s band The North Stars at 9:30.  This dreamy northern Minnesota folk-rock group features not only Rich of Ol' Yeller, Tisdales, Bitter Spills, and Sparta Sound fame but also talented singer / songwriter Germaine Gemberling.  The always entertaining and unexpected Lazer Bear driven by Glen Mattson, Fred Hanson and Jeff Alger follows at 10:30, and the very hard rocking indy / alternative band Average Mammals currently promoting the release of their 2^nd CD “Petrichor” brings down the house at 11:30.

Strategically interspersed into the schedule, bands will also be playing at Paulie G’s on the other side of Chestnut St. with the duo of Christopher David Hanson from Babbitt and Brent Saari of Mt. Iron kicking things off at 9:15 p.m. and presenting the sounds of timeless rock and roll and original American roots music with hints of Motown, swing, and classic country.  Josh Palmi and The Strange Frequencies take the stage at 10:15.  A bluesy rock band featuring singer/songwriter Josh Palmi, Pike-Sandy harmonica ace Al "Trapper" Ranfranz, Craig Lasart on bass and Chris Hanson on drums, they released their debut CD earlier this year.  Ely area band Crazy Neighbors manned by Aaron Kaercher, Pat Hawkinson, Kyle Westrick, and Derek Rolando bring it on home at 11:15.

Formed in 2008 by a loose coalition of local musicians, the non-profit IROMA has worked for years to spotlight Iron Range bands and musicians writing original music, and this Multi Venue Fall Showcase represents a continued commitment to growing and celebrating our vibrant local music scene – it’s truly something of which we can all be very proud.  Performances at all three venues are free and open to the public, and merchandise from many of the artists will be available.  As always, amateur photographers are encouraged to attend, and information on IROMA and all the performers is readily available online.  IROMA would like to thank the members of our community for their continued support of original local live music on The Range.

Re: The Hometown Focus

Like so many of my “blogging buddies” from days gone by, social media has all but killed my blogging efforts.  The lack of creative writing on my behalf is truly a shame, but that being said, I feel far more “connected” now than I did even at the height of my “career” as a serious blogger.  Strange days…

One of my few remaining outlets for writing has been our local “alternative newspaper” The Hometown Focus.  It’s a wonderful publication full of local news that spotlights relevant economic issues, covers the arts and entertainment scene in the area, and gives voice to a wide variety of guest columnists….including ME.

Around the time that I graduated from high school in Virginia Minnesota, our school had an incredibly strong English department, and a significant number of the students who passed through that program are still writing today…many professionally.  One of my classmates has chiseled out a second career for herself as freelance writer focusing on topics related both to mental health and women in the outdoors, and she recently decided to make me the subject of one of her interviews over the course of which she focused on the different approaches that she and I take with regard to outdoor adventures.  Her ice fishing rig is pictured in the bottom half of the photo...below Lucy the Lab 'n me.  ;-)

 The complete article can be read HERE.