Summer, 1977: Newlyweds Stephen and Jodi Laliberte agreed to attempt their first Boundary Waters Canoe Area trip with some friends from college. Despite surviving a terrifying thunderstorm in their tents, they had a wonderful experience, and it has grown into a family tradition.
After a long hiatus, in 1995 it was with great reluctance that my dad first brought eleven-year-old me and my ten-year-old brother back to the same spot – East Pike lake in the eastern Arrowhead Trail. We had been camping a few times before, but never anything like this.
My brother and I began to realize that this was no ordinary trip. We went off path at Gooseberry Falls, swimming in the backwashes and climbing up to a precarious cave. We gorged at Sven and Ole’s – even having cold pizza for breakfast in the Grand Marais camp ground the next morning. Dad still notes how wide-eyed incredulous we were when he let us escape the tiny cab of the manual pickup to ride in the truck bed down the final stretch of dirt road.
The trip nearly derailed when we pulled our canoe up to our first ever portage. It was a narrow, rocky trail twisting up and down the half mile ridge between two lakes through a mosquito infested forest. This is an incredibly challenging environment to shepherd children through in any circumstance, and in this case dad was out of practice and not in as good of shape. Top that off with our choice of vehicle. We owned an old, over-sized fiberglass canoe – easily double the weight of a typical Kevlar portaging canoe.
It turned out that dad was mostly unable to solo-carry the giant boat. Then you have two whiney, inexperienced children attempting their first slog through the dangerous forest in the heat and insect clouds. But with much encouragement from dad, we were determined to make it in. So he took the front and put the two of us on the back of the boat. For the better part of the portage, we heaved it along in brief, violent bursts complaining all the way.
We toughed it out and made it in. We emerged soaked in sweat and bug spray. Dad surprised us again when he led us in stripping down to our underwear to swim in the cool, brilliantly clear water of East Pike. Jumping in a lake has never felt so good. I have also upheld this silly little tradition on each of my successive trips.
We proceeded to the same campsite our parents had used a decade prior. It is a gorgeous rocky clearing in the pine forest. A shoulder of granite juts out over the water looking down on a babbling brook flowing out to the south that lulled us to sleep every night. The only man-made objects present are the Forestry’s steel grate over the campfire for cooking and the small plastic circle 100 yards back in the forest over the latrine pit.
We all love to fish. That’s our primary goal on most of these trips. Though we’d done it a lot before this, we weren’t typically taking off our fish at this point. This became a bit of an issue as we tested the waters. Within seconds of dropping our nightcrawlers over the side, my brother and I were simultaneously reeling in good-sized small mouth bass. These things are some of the best pound-for-pound fighters in fresh water. Also, in a lake this incredibly clear and clean, they are as delicious as walleye. We later termed this the “frenzy” trip. We could seldom count to 10 before there was another fish on. Dad heroically assisted both of us so frequently that he was mostly unable to drop a line himself. All the while through our glee he reiterated just how uncommonly special this situation was.
We fished with zeal for days. We swam more, cooked over the fire and lazed in the sun. Though it wasn’t without its hiccups, we have nothing but pleasant memories of our first Boundary Waters experience. We didn’t just have a good time, we came out mentally and physically tougher. We came out a closer family.
We returned two years later much better prepared and equipped. The fish were not in frenzy this time, but still easy to come by. Then one day I was dangling a worm in 60 feet of water while dozing in the middle of a hot day. We were setup for bass – light rod with 8lb test, worm on a small hook, no leader. I was awoken to my rod tightening on a snag. This seemed unlikely as the bottom of the lake is nothing but rocks, and there are no sunken trees that far out. I slowly hauled the snag up from the bottom; when it finally broke the surface, it sprung to life! For the next 30 minutes, my canoe was pulled around the lake by a 43” northern pike. By a series of miracles, my line did not break, and I eventually landed the monster. He was lip-hooked and easily could have bitten through the line at any time. We took some pictures and let him go. And I have been hunting big pike obsessively ever since.
There were many more trips over the years involving all 6 of my family members and spouses and friends. Each trip produced another lifetime memory. I came face to face with a black bear (he ran off when I yelled); my brother and friends were charged by a moose (thankfully while safe in a canoe); my little sister had wolves in her camp on our coldest trip; we did 8 portages through a river system; we’ve gone days without seeing other people, climbed over beaver dams (me in my underwear – I later purchased quick-dry pants), pulled treasures from the deeps snorkeling and seen all manner of wildlife; and of course, we’ve produced many, many more fish stories.
Two years ago was particularly special. Dad was just 6 months out of a complete bone marrow transplant for his multiple myeloma cancer. He had almost no immune system and was on heavy chemo. Hiking and camping with no phone service, hours from the nearest help was an extremely dangerous idea. We both feared it could be our last trip together, so we made it happen. I was able to start repaying him for years of doing everything for me. I carried boats, tied lines, did camp chores and cleaned fish. It was a beautiful trip, and I’m very pleased to say it was not our last. He continues to improve, and we just got back from this year’s trip. I’ll keep on doing it as long as we’re able. I can’t wait to take my boys a few years from now.
