(ch. 2)Again: Another Failure

The river out of Bemidji is peaceful and beautiful and easy to canoe. It rained on us but I felt much better. I was sorry for disappointing Isaac and ashamed of myself and my behavior the day before. Isaac wasn't interested in talking about it, which didn't help me much, but we paddled on into the lakes.

That afternoon we made it to Norway Beach in Cass Lake just as the wind picked up and began raising big waves on the lake. As the evening progressed the wind blew stronger and steady. In the photo you see our tent being blown down by the wind. We were able to rig up some lines to hold it up through the night. The wind never let up. The next morning the lake was too rough to proceed. We waited into the afternoon until finally the wind and the lake quieted down and we were able to paddle to Knutson Dam. The next day we arrived at the western shore of Lake Winnie. The wind was blowing and the lake was too rough to canoe. It was a struggle just to round the point and we immediately landed the canoe at Governor's Point. We waited there until early evening hoping the lake would calm down. It was still a bit rough but we were able to paddle up to the West Winne campground before sunset.

We walked up to the trailer of the campground host and knocked on the door. It was Stanley who answered. Stanley had met us there four years ago and trucked our canoe around the lake. We looked up to the trailer door and said, "Hi Stan, remember us?" Stan remembered us and we told him we were back with our canoe. Stan started right away to talk about when he could truck us around, but we explained to him we were hoping to wait for good weather and paddle around the shoreline. Stan thought that was a bad idea, shrugged his shoulders and said, "this lake could keep you waiting for weeks before it clams down." That evening the wind blew again as it had back at Cass Lake. The following morning brought rain and more wind and the lake was just mean. The weather forecast was for two or three more days of the same. I really wasn't excited about trying to wait it out. Stan came by with the weather forcast and Isaac finally gave up and agreed to let Stan truck us around. I suspect it was easier for Isaac to give up this second goal of the trip since I had already caused us to fail at the start. Isaac was glum, his reasons for making the trip yanked away. Again I was to blame, since I had expressed my dissatisfaction with the prospect of waiting. I was also afraid of the lake and not as willing as Isaac to tackle it under passable conditions. Isaac knew he might have to wait a long time before the lake would be calm enough to satisfy me.

We said goodbye to Stan and were off again from just below the spillway at Winne dam. The wind was still blowing hard and we had a rough time getting through Little Winne Lake. We were on our way to Grand Rapids and entering one of my favorite sections of the Mississippi. That night we stopped at Gambler's Point. The campsite is on a bluff fifty feet above the river. The rain stopped and the sky cleared. That evening a cresent moon rose early and we could see the balance of the moon's surface well lit by earthshine.

The next morning we had excellent weather and were on our way to Schoolcraft State Park through beautiful grassy marshlands and boxwood forest. The river here is crystal clear. You can often see right to the bottom where the reeds bend and undulate in the current. Blad eagles hunt in the marshes. We frequently saw them perched in the trees ahead. Usually they would pick up and move on when we approached. One eagle wanted to stay along the river and so each time we came too near he would fly off down stream a few hundred yards. In ten or fifteen minutes we would be too close again and off he would go down to the next suitable perch. We must have repeated this cycle more than a dozen times before he finally gave up and took off in another direction. By the end of the day I was feeling much better -- it was hard not to.

Schoolcraft state park is situated at the confluence of the Mississippi and Vermillion rivers. The canoe campsite overlooks the confluence from atop a small bluff about twenty feet high. Schoolcraft is a remote state park and primitive by comparison to other parks. There's water to drink,outhouses without plumbing and picnic tables. We had the park entirely to ourselves. Even the ranger station seemed abandoned -- they only stop by a couple times a week to check on the place and the day we were there wasn't a scheduled stop. It was wonderfully peacefull and would have been in fact idylic if not for an above average infestation of Minnesota's infamous state insect, the misquito (and ticks). I've often wondered how the early explorers and native peoples survived in this area without modern insect repellents. Smoke helps some, but you almost have to stand in it to the point where your eyes burn and you start choking. I can't imagine you could just learn to ignore a couple dozen misquitos all sucking your blood at one time.

Speaking of early explorers, the park is named after Henry Schoolcraft who still today is given credit for discovering the source of the Mississippi. Schoolcraft led an expedition in 1832 that arrived finally at Lake Itasca. Henry named the lake Itasca (previously named Elk Lake by the Ojibwa who knew it was the source of the Mississippi -- they took Henry there). I said "finally" in the sentence above, because a few dozen european explorers had spent the better part of the previous 75 years looking for the river's source and mistakenly claiming that they had found it. Even after Henry had anounced his discovery the matter remained unsettled until 1889 when Jacob Brower surveyed the region and verified Henry's claim.