I’ve just emerged from eight days in the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness, a million-acre area of northeast Minnesota, home to more than 1,000 lakes.
During those eight days, we paddled, portaged, and pressed pause. And during those moments of pause (because, let’s be honest, while paddling against the wind and portaging over challenging terrain, I was in no place to focus on anything but the here and now), I took some field notes.
Here are three (of the many) lessons I learned from my time in the BWCA.
1. You learn quickly when you dive in the deep end
Eight days in the wilderness? you think. Had she done a trip like this before?
No.
Had she cooked food over a fire before?
No.
Had she even canoed before?
Honestly, not that I can remember (and I quickly realized kayaking doesn’t count).
Was she at all prepared for this experience?
LOL. You guessed it—hard no. But, I jumped in the deep end and don’t regret it for a second.
Here’s why: I didn’t overthink it. Okay, I researched what to do about bears (helpful blog I read linked here) and after that I decided I’d follow the veteran campers’ lead.
I learned on the go—and quickly.
You can talk yourself out of facing the things that scare you. So, instead, I packed my fear alongside my sleeping bag and mosquito head net, and decided to just go for it.
Disclaimer: I don’t recommend you go into the BWCA unprepared or by yourself—not unless you’re a veteran camper/canoer/adventurer. I was with seven other people who knew what they were doing; one who’s spent decades exploring the BWCA.
2. Perspective is everything
Portage (noun) The carrying of a boat and its cargo between two navigable waters.
Rod (noun) A unit of measure; 16.5 feet, or roughly the length of a canoe.
Our first portage of the trip was approximately 450 rods, or 1.4 miles. Have I mentioned I’ve also never portaged a canoe before? Silly me, I thought it was a two-person job.
However, all subsequent portages—and there were many—felt manageable because none were as long as the first. Sometimes, getting the hardest bit done first means you get to reap the rewards—at least the mental and psychological ones—for the rest of the journey.
3. Expect Jumanji
Wind. Rain. Mosquitoes. Steep inclines followed by steep declines. Boulders. Beaver dams. Muck (where leeches lurk).
I joked that each portage (and each day) presented the next level of Jumanji—you know, the board game that releases jungle-based hazards upon its players with every turn they take.
Oh, you conquered that long portage? Send in the mosquitoes!
Oh, you managed to traverse boulders with a canoe above your head? Time to climb a steep incline! In the rain!
After a day or two, I expected Jumanji; for the physical challenges to get harder, not easier. And when they did, I’d call out '“Jumanji!” and we’d all have a good laugh about it and carry on.
And on the rare occasions when things didn’t get harder (like one windy day when there were no mosquitoes to be found), I counted myself lucky—and was grateful for the reprieve.
Indeed, I probably learned as many lessons as there are lakes in the BWCA—but I’ll save “how to portage over a beaver dam” and “how to wash your hair in the wild” for another day.
In the meantime, where is your favorite place to camp or canoe? What are your lessons learned? Feel free to share them in the comments or reply to me directly!
Supplemental reading: Wanderlust: A History of Walking by Rebecca Solnit
I haven’t read this book yet, but a friend on this trip recommended it to me, and I plan to read it soon. Book club, anyone?
From the sounds of it, well - from your writing of it anyways, it seems like you had a good adventurous trip. 👍🏼😎
A good friend of mine recently did the rim-to-rim hike of the Grand Canyon. I’m a little envious of you both.
I’m hoping to do a trip in the latter part of this year. Still examining options at the moment. There’re a lot of places that aren’t quite open to the point that I’d like just yet, so I will probably have to defer those to the future and will see what remains.