Joe & Isaac's Adventure: Episode 1 - Chapter 2

We spent a day in Bemidji shopping to replace items we had lost, then on Friday, the sixth day of our journey, Kevin Williamson drove us and our canoe back to the river. In the meantime I had been on the phone with the MDNR and managed eventually to speak with Dale (the person directly responsible for the section of the river we were travelling). Dale explained to me that in a few weeks, in June, they would take a boat with a chainsaw and cut a path through the sweepers. In the meantime the river both in and out of Bemidji was going to be obstructed with fallen trees. Dale suggested that if we put the canoe back in below the Ottertail power dam we'd have no more problem with sweepers. We took his suggestion.

We were entering lake country. Beginning with Bemidji, the Mississippi flows east through a string of lakes. It's more lake than it is river. Canoeist hate lakes. The only good thing about a lake is you can return easily to your starting point as there is no current. There are two basic problems with lakes. First they're boring. You paddle on and on for hours without much visual feedback that you're getting anywhere. That can be real discouraging. The bigger problem with lakes is waves. If it's windy or there are lots of big power boats on the lake then the lake will churn up big waves. In Minnesota it's always windy and, as the state is called the land of ten thousand lakes, I'd swear there are more power boats than cars. Big waves will either roll your canoe over or crash over the bow and fill your canoe with water.

When we arrived at Lake Andrusia we were met with whitecaps (big cresting waves). All we could do was turn the canoe into the direction of the waves and make for shore. We came ashore at the south end of the lake and pulled the canoe up into the grass. Right along the south shore is a road. We decided to wait for early evening when we expected the lake to calm down. There was a boat landing where we could camp just 500 yards away. We sat and waited and of course it began to rain. All afternoon it rained and the wind kept howling. Eventually a state trooper pulled over to talk with us. He said he'd gone by a few times and wondered if we were alright. We explained our situation to him and he then told us we couldn't camp at the boat landing as we had intended. We were on tribal lands and it was Memorial Day weekend. He told us that by the middle of the night we would end up "skinned by a bunch of drunken Indians." I detected a note of prejudice in his voice, but when he said he would have us towed to a private camp and resort just down the river, I didn't object. The only problem was that we ended up being towed back two miles from where we'd already come.

Oak Haven was a nice place; we stayed there two nights as it continued to rain and rain and rain. Isaac especially liked the restaurant where we could order hamburgers for lunch and dinner. We tried a little fishing and otherwise relaxed until the rain stopped. When we continued on Lake Andrusia was calm and we eventually made our way into Cass Lake. We camped that night at the Norway Beach recreation area. There I met an older gentleman who told me he'd been up there in Minnesota for more than a decade but that he was originally from the other end of the Mississippi in Louisiana. I surprised him when I asked, "how can you stand it up here?" He looked at me puzzled and I said, "there's nothing to eat." I left him smiling ear to ear when I then said: "What I wouldn't give right now for a plate of red beans and rice with a nice eight inch sausage. You can't get that up here now can you?" Norway Beach is really nice -- the sun sets over the lake directly opposite the campground. Before we turned in for the night we were visited by a young couple and their daughter who came to watch the sunset.

The above panorama is a link. Click on it to view a larger photo that you can scroll through.

Our next stop was Knutson Dam where the Mississippi leaves Cass Lake. After I made some inquiries, we were lucky enough to meet Stanely (the campground host at West Winnie) who agreed to haul our canoe in his truck around Lake Winnibigoshish (miserable wretched dirty water in Ojibwa) the next day. The MDNR advises canoeist not to attempt crossing Lake Winnie. Isaac and I were a father and son team from St. Louis who were canoeing down the Mississippi in May. A few years ago another father and son team from St. Louis lost their lives trying to canoe across Lake Winnie in May. I wasn't interested in tempting fate. For twelve miles beyond Cass Lake the Mississippi flows through another large marsh on its way to Lake Winnibigoshish. Although the wind blew strongly in our faces, we had a nice day for the trip and managed to meet Stanely on the west shore of Winnibigoshish just ahead of schedule. The half mile that we paddled through Winnibigoshish to reach Stanely was one of the most difficult half miles of our entire trip! As we were driving around the lake one of our lifevests blew loose and flew out of the truck. Stanely and I noticed it and we stopped to pick it up. As we were putting it back in the truck Stanely said, "you know what we call these up here? ---body markers. That's all there good for." The lake water is so cold, especially in the early Spring, that if you turn a canoe over in the lake far enough from shore, you're going to freeze to death before anyone shows up to pull you out.

The next stop after Lake Winnie is Schoolcraft State Park which of course is named for Henry Rowe Schoolcraft, the person most folks of European decent credit with the discovery of the Mississippi's source in 1832. Well, yes he did discover the river's source for the benefit of the European colonizers. But I think it is instructive to remember that the Ojibwa knew the location of the Mississippi's source long before Henry Schoolcraft came along. In fact he asked directions of an Ojibwa chief who not only pointed him in the right direction, but went along just to make sure he wouldn't get lost. Henry was just the first European who had enough sense to ask for directions. At Schoolcraft state park we were again slowed by rain. We tried a little fishing, but we're not very good at it.

On the afternoon of our second day at the park the drizzle had let up some and I took the fishing rod down to a different section of the river. On my first cast I caught a big northern pike. This one was big enough to eat. I hollered for Isaac who came running and the two of us fussed enough over this fish that we caught the attention of some nearby campers. A couple of them came down to see what all the commotion was and we got introduced. Isaac and I were excited and decided to continue fishing, but we had no further luck -- Isaac caught a baby pike. Then one of the campers who we had just met came back down to the river and invited us to join them at their campsite for some fried fish. We fished a little longer and decided to take the offer. Our hosts were half a dozen retired folks, couples and friends, who came to the nearby lakes for "pan fishing." They didn't catch really big fish, but they sure caught a lot of medium sized ones. They treated Isaac and me to a wonderful meal. They made me fresh coffee and served Isaac a glass of cold milk. The fried fish they cooked for us was great. Isaac likes fried fish and he was hungry -- a stand back combination. As fast as they could serve it he kept putting it away. It was delightful to see these older folks, whose own children were all grown, fuss over Isaac as he made quick dispatch of at least three pounds of fried fish. Then came the home-made rhubarb cobbler. It was the best meal we'd eaten the whole trip. While we ate Isaac talked to our hosts about getting to Grand Rapids soon to buy some snickers candy bars. Isaac thought an afternoon candy bar in the canoe was the one item missing from our journey. The next morning before we left we were at the phone by the road calling Clare when one of our hosts from the night before drove up and stopped. He got out of his truck and came over to Isaac with a fist full of Hershey's chocolate kisses and miniature snickers bars. As I mentioned earlier, all through our trip people we met treated us with uncommon kindness. Thank you all so much.

We were almost out of lake country -- just Blackwater lake to go and it was a small one. We were also on our way to our first town after Bemidji, Grand Rapids. It was a long hard day. Again the wind blew in our face and slowed our progress. At Cohasset we stopped for a rest at the public fishing peer. When we walked up onto the road we saw an A&W Rootbeer across the highway. Both of us nearly ran as we'd been eating camp food for over a week. I was shouting "chili cheese fries" and Isaac was wacking me with his hat to get me to shut up (his old man embarrasses him sometimes). We both ordered double bacon cheese burgers. Isaac got a cramp in his jaw trying to open wide enough to stuff the whole burger in at once -- a high point of the trip for sure. At Grand Rapids we met a kind woman, Mary, who allowed us to leave the canoe under her lilac bush while we called a cab and spent the night in a motel. It was always a treat after a week or more of camping to come to a town where we could get a motel, a hot shower, and a good bed.