Solo Canoeing -- at peace with yourself by Taylor Ham

I cannot decide if I prefer to paddle in a group or if Id rather just go alone.  The thing that I love most about solo paddling is that whether it's just a day trip or a multi-day trip there is no outside pressure to do anything.  No schedule in a sense, unless YOU make one.  You have to be disciplined enough to accomplish your goals and you are the only one responsible to push yourself.  When you are alone it's all up to you.

For my first solo paddle I took it easy and went to entry point #14 Little Indian Sioux North.  I have been there once before during last season, but it was at the end of a very long day so I didn't have the energy to explore. It made for an easy decision to go back.  Unfortunately, due to a small wrist injury, I was not able to make it to my planned destination which was Devils Cascade. I will leave that for another day, I suppose.

I took a Northstar Magic on my trip.  The Magic is my favorite solo boat to paddle. It handles better and portages better than any boat that I have tried yet.  I also prefer to use a kayak paddle, that way, I feel like I am able to cover more ground.

The weather on the river was absolutely gorgeous and the wind was very mild, not a cloud in the sky.  I paddled slowly down the river, stopping often to listen to the earth singing.  I didn't see a single person out there even though the parking lot was packed for fishing opener.

When I first arrived at the portage I jumped out of the boat into the chilled water, I could hear water rushing.  I walked back and forth along the portage until I found a good spot to sit down and read for a while.  The portage is 60 rods and it leads to another segment of the river.  I sat there for a good while to gather my thoughts and enjoy the sound of runningwater .

When I got back on the river I searched for a nice sunny spot on the shore where I could have some lunch.  As I ate, a small family of turtles joined me on a log.  They stayed there until I got up to leave.

My first solo paddle of the year wasn't very eventful but not every paddle into the Boundary Waters has to be about what you saw, how far you went or what you did. A vital part of every experience should be about how your body is feeling and most importantly how your mind is feeling when you're finished.

Luckily with the Boundary Waters so close, I never really feel like we are finished -- there's always another day and another lake to explore.  Maybe I'll see you out there.

Taylor Ham, Piragis Northwoods Outfitting

Wilderness Camping is not Just a "Guy Thing" by Cara Berzins

Wilderness camping is not just a “guy thing”

By Cara Berzins

Ladies, no matter what hats we wear and titles we carry, I suspect that there are some core things we all want. For example, I carry the titles mom, wife, teacher, writer. I’m always looking for ways to improve how I carry those titles. I think as women we are always looking for ways to grow, and unfortunately, we tend to doubt ourselves and wonder whether we are doing any of those things right. I know I do.

I believe I know a secret and unexpected way to build confidence and reduce doubt and guilt. This is my story of how wilderness camping shaped my identity and set me up for a happier life.

CAMPING IN THE BWCAW AS A GIRL

I was 1 year old when I visited the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness for the first time. It's a wilderness camping area of supreme quiet, endless forests, and interconnected lakes stretching across the northern border of Minnesota. Every summer, as a family of 5 and sometimes with friends, we meandered the over 1500 miles of canoe routes traversing more than 1000 lakes.

Not only did my parents get double takes because they brought young children with them into this utterly remote wilderness camping area, people noticed when two of the three little ones were girls.

As my sister and I grew, we became increasingly aware that we were a rare breed in the BWCAW. We couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment when we were able to load ourselves up for portages with ease while guys with other traveling groups looked on openmouthed. One of us would help the other slip her shoulders into a large bulky looking canvas canoe pack. Sometimes, to avoid coming back for another trip over the portage we would carry two packs. The other would be strapped on backwards so the backpack part hung in front. (Believe it or not, this method was actually easier because the weight was distributed more evenly!) Then the one carrying the packs would prop up the canoe as the other centered her shoulders under the yoke. Away we went after taking all of 3 minutes to load up. Seeing a teenage girl carry a canoe on her head all by herself was a shock to some of our fellow campers. Seeing how impressed they were was a huge self-esteem boost to me in the years when girls usually feel especially awkward.

The wilderness does not discriminate. When the wind howls and the waves rise into frothy whitecaps, you still need to paddle back to your campsite whether you are male or female, 8 or 80. You need the same bare minimum of gear to survive and enjoy your time in the wilderness. As yet, there is no portage concierge available to shunt these belongings from one waterway to the next. This fact makes it seem like a man's world. Instead, this very fact makes wilderness camping the great equalizer.

WHY EVERY WOMAN SHOULD TRY WILDERNESS CAMPING

I believe these experiences have shaped my self-image in fundamental ways.

1. I feel strong and sure of myself. Traveling for miles powered only by my own muscles taught me to be confident in myself and my ability to handle physically demanding situations.
2. I feel a connection with nature that is strongest in this true wilderness, but helps me seek out and find that same feeling even in places where nature is scarce.  
3. This connection with nature is like a deep seated well of tranquility. It helps me combat anxiety and stress, which gives confidence in my emotional ability to handle demanding situations.
4. Being at the mercy of the elements taught me that I can't expect things to always be easy. It also taught me not to give up when the going is hard.
5. I learned to think outside the box. Sometimes you need to be innovative and learn to make do with what you have when you are traveling with the bare minimum. (Once we traded minnows for toilet paper from a group of fishermen. Priorities😉)
6. I learned to distinguish between need and wants. You quickly realize what is needed and what’s not when you have to carry it all for a couple of miles.
7. The value of cooperation and teamwork is obvious in the wilderness. If you aren’t paddling in unison, you get nowhere fast. If you don’t work together to set up camp, it takes twice as long.

HOW CAMPING FEELS

Some of my happiest memories are times we spent as a family camping. The sound of a paddle swishing through the water, the call of a loon, the lapping of waves, rain on the tent flaps, beavers slapping the water with their tail, various bird calls, the rustle of our feet on the portage, waterfalls thundering, wind rushing through the treetops. How often do we experience these sounds anymore? The effect they have on the mind and body is . . . I struggle to come up with the right word. Invaluable, healing, soothing, life altering.

Nancy Piragis summed it up well on the welcome video for Piragis Northwoods Company. She said, “I never forget a canoe trip. I never forget a day in the woods. But I forget days at home, I forget days in the office. . . Every single time you go out there’s always memories to be had.” You find that life has been reduced to what is right in front of you. No distractions, no rushing, no multitasking. It’s so good for your psyche and your brain.

Humans seem to be built to perform their best when at one with nature. It makes us happier, healthier, calmer. This effect has even been hitting the headlines recently. I especially enjoyed this recent episode of Innovation Hub on my local NPR station. It’s about the scientific evidence that nature is good for us.

One of the saddest side effects of modern living is that people have started to fear nature. And yet nature has so much to give us. They flood their yards with spot lights at night, they avoid uninhabited areas because they are afraid of the animals. For me, the sounds of nature are so soothing, it seems absurd to be afraid of them. I remember when I realized how much people fear nature. I was camping with friends, a single mother and her daughter. She mentioned they might not sleep well because of the noises. That night in my tent I listened with extra attention to the forest noises. Because I was listening so intently and imagining how it would sound to someone unfamiliar with the forest, my senses were all on high alert. Suddenly, I heard a terrifying, unidentifiable rumble. For a few scary moments my mind rushed through a whole series of animals until it finally dawned on me. A jet was flying high overhead! I felt relieved to finally identify the noise. But this confirmed my previous opinion; the creature most to be feared is our own species, humans. No animal noise could sound that terrifying. In the end my friends slept well, and decided they loved camping.

CONTINUING THE LEGACY

My parents gave me a priceless legacy by taking me wilderness camping as a girl. Since then we have camped with my nieces and my daughter. At first the noises and the wildness made them nervous too. But soon enough they feel just as comfortable and at home as they would in their own house. The difference is, instead of being enclosed in walls and under a roof, the lake cradles them under the vast blue sky while the forest sings its lullaby.  

Experience wilderness camping for yourself. If you want to learn to believe in yourself, if you want to connect with nature more deeply than you thought possible, if you want to shake off the built-up stress and pressure of every-day life, then wilderness camping might be just the right thing for your next vacation!

Editor's note: Piragis Northwoods Outfitting offers a fully guided Women Exploring Wilderness Canoe Camping Trip. We also have Women Guides on staff as well as men, each with excellent experience in the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness. We also have all the gear you need for your trip at The Boundary Waters Catalog and for RENT.

Moments in Polaroids: Lines from the Boundary Waters and Beyond

Moments in Polaroids

Remember when you’d stand there
shaking the film as it developed from a grey
ghost slipping through the shadow world,
like a walleye
rising up through
tannin stained waters,
desperate to stay
hidden but
pulled uncontrollably
towards the surface that
tensioned between
you and I.

Little by little the granular
surface would appear
underneath colors
that couldn’t quite
be explained. Then we’d
shove our eye into
that rubber socketed
viewfinder again and
shift the sun to the
left while crossing
our fingers. While missing
the larger, contagious
beauty?

If only this touches
the memory of this moment
just a fraction, sets the hook,
I can reel in the rest of
it years from
now when we dig
through a dusty box
forgotten in the attic.

Remember when we spent
more time making the
memory than recording it?
Let’s do that again.
Let’s do
that now.

©Timothy James Stouffer 06082017
All Rights Reserved Ely, Minnesota

Poem: Separation Lines from the Boundary Waters and Beyond

Separation

There’s a line that the wilderness
draws behind each of us
a little distance from Ely.
Whether by stream, river or lake
as our canoes slip
over it,
pulled by paddle stroke
and the desire to find more than
our own reflection in the
Boundary Waters.

This line when crossed can
never be returned from,
can’t be uncrossed.

Though it is invisible, almost everyone
I know can recall the moment
they entered the other side.
The side where our previous selves
began to fade and our
canoe camping self began to pulsate,
like the oldest coals of our
campfires.

The afternoon sun burnt off the rest of the shadows
as we paddled on,
not stopping until we blended into
the darkness and the branches
of the pines and cedars
reached out over the water
to welcome us home.

©Timothy James Stouffer 06052017
All Rights Reserved Ely, Minnesota

If you like the poetry we publish here and on social media you might like to check out a recent Zine created by Simon and Tim Stouffer who work at Piragis Northwoods Company.  Pronounced "ZEEENE" like Maga-zine, a zine is a self published, small run of artwork and/or prose.  This particular zine was actually printed locally at Ely Design Works on high quality paper to showcase the 20 black and white photos taken by Simon.  Accompanying the photos are original poems by Tim Stouffer.  The content was inspired by their day together along the North Shore early this Spring.

Here's a link:  https://www.boundarywaterscatalog.com/tim-stouffer/day-one-a-zine-by-tim-and-simon-stouffer-159648

Poem: Grandparents Lines from the Boundary Waters and Beyond

Grandparents

(Poetry from the Boundary Waters and Beyond)

This day ending with its sentinels
of pine pointing towards the
setting sun could have
meant anything,
anywhere,
to
anyone.

But,
to you and
I under the tarp near
the glowing coals of the fire,
it meant sore muscles, blistered
hands and one of the best tasting
dinners I've eaten out of a
pouch in forever.
Well, what
wouldn't
taste

Fabulous
when paired with
lake trout picked up while
trolling towards this point on
the island that gifted us a view of
our own private lake?  This
moment is why I wish
I would have
listened
to you
be

fore, when you told me that we could still find ourselves in the boundary waters canoe area wilderness, even at our age, even having forgotten more about camping than most young people ever imagined they'd learn thank goodness for the air mattress and the forty four pound kevlar canoe.

It is never too late
to remember.

©Timothy James Stouffer 05252017
All Rights Reserved Ely, MN

SPRING WEEK IN QUETICO

Spring Trout Trip              

When four adult, slightly past middle age, guys, get together for a camping trip you know there will lots of jokes, jabs and jabbering.  The great thing about a boyz trip to the Quetico for lake trout is the chance to be little boys again or a primitive hunting party or some combination thereof.   At these ripe ages there less bragging and less muscle testing and a lot more dependence of each other and modesty, the result of what little wisdom that has been gained over so many years.  All for the better to have more fun,  take fewer portages and prepare a few good meals that men have garnered from years of watching their wives. 

This was a laid back, no worries about catching a lot of fish and happy to be out, kind of trip we did last week to the fabled North Bay of Basswood Lake in Quetico Park.   It was the week before fishing opener in Minnesota and two weeks before the same in Ontario.  Lake Trout is the only species that we could keep that were in season.   When we caught a smallmouth bass and a walleye, both handsome specimens, they had to go right back in the lake.   The lakers were playing hard to get on us.  We trolled a lot of water at different depths and saw some great scenery, absorbed too much solar radiation on the hands, ears and nose but rarely had to reel up lunker lakers.   Actually, there were no lunkers caught last week.  The bay was cold and calm most of the 5 days we were there but she was pretty stingy with the red fleshed trout. 

When a lake trout was landed it was meant for the pan and the meals were exceptional.   I made a first for me; trout tacos.   It was just snap decision while hiking the isles of Zup’s grocery in Ely the day before the trip to buy cole slaw mix and dressing and some real big soft taco shells.   I just breaded strips of trout cut off the filets and fast fried them laying them in the taco with some fried cubed potatoes and onion topped with juicy cole slaw.  It seemed to be a hit among the four men cooking around the campfire.    One of my chums for another trout dinner baked his filets over the fire in aluminum foil with butter and onions; another big success story for the guys.   We spent time contemplating how much water to use for oatmeal and whether or not the pork loin over the fire was cooked enough or if a little pink was now ok to serve America’s other white meat.   With the occasional sip of box wine from a plastic bag details of cooking were more easily worked out.  

Perhaps the most solemn moment of the trip was the scattering of the ashes of one of our fathers who passed away recently.  Jack was a friend to all, a great hockey coach and a bit of an old curmudgeon but renowned for his unique expressions and liberal use of language that would be bleeped out on TV.   Not that Jack was on TV but he a star to those of us who knew him.  If you knew Jack you always smiled when his name was mentioned.  He did some fishing up north and he loved to visit Ely with his wife Ann to see what their son was doing now to live the life of a modern entrepreneur woodsman.  Like father, like son, Steve managed to scatter a few choice words in every conversation we had last week.  It’s a loose group when the men that are still boys at heart, make a trip to the woods to catch lake trout in spring.   Enjoy the photos and come up soon. 

Poem Silhouetted by Timothy James Stouffer

Silhouetted

Against the last of Winter’s 

remnant, pines strike

a pose familiar.  When 

the skies wouldn’t stop

weeping but couldn’t

agree on flakes or tears,

the sun, brief and frustrated,

settled the matter.

A signature on that first

day of May that fleeting

formed a question mark

in the second morning

and inquiried of us all.  What

do we think

the shadows keep?

Who might the 

light reveal with

its brush under the boughs?

Sifting through the slush

of sunrise, my fingers grow

cold and numb

searching by feel in the thick darkness

for the words to our song

that began with Spring

but has lost itself

against the reflection

of the reaching

Red Pines.

Where is it that the path

leads us two from here?

Like some darkened maw

swallowing the borders

marked so carefully

on the map we hold.

©Timothy James Stouffer 05/02/2017

All Rights Reserved Ely, Minnesota

Keep your eyes Peeled

Lee Johnson is the Heritage Program Manager for the Superior National Forest.  He's also a friend of ours who at one time worked with us here at Piragis.  He recently gave a talk here in town at the Grand Ely Lodge during one of our Tuesday Group meetings.

These meetings take place every Tuesday over the lunch hour and everyone who's interested are welcome to come. We have guest speakers and the subjects vary from who's newly moved to town and their personal introductions, to antique history and appraisals, to natural history and preservation to Ely area current events, to politics, to... well you name it.  It is great way to have lunch with others and connect and to learn about many things in person, that you probably have some connection with, but don't know too much about.

Lee was working on a project in the forest that is about to have the results published.  Travelers and members of the Forest Service have begin to discover what Native American canoe builders knew already existed.  Bark-Peeled Pine that dot the Border Lakes Region of Minnesota and Ontario.  What made these marks and why?  That was the topic of the study and the talk.

These are not the triangular fire scars that are widest at ground level, these are usually head or chest high and terminate at waist or knee level.  They profile deep tree wounds with large "healing lobes" and are most often present on Red Pines, though also on Jack Pines and occasional White Pines.  The theory presented by Lee was very interesting and rather easy to subscribe to based on the discovery and historical documentation that he provided. Native Americans most likely made these marks to collect Pitch for Gum that was used to build and repair birchbark canoes.  This pitch and gum was an integral part of the fur trade era.  Indeed, without it, your canoe would begin to fall apart and sink.

These Bark Peeled Pines are clues to the glue that held the culture of the fur-trade together and date back to the mid-18th century.  Each year we lose some of these ancient trees to age and storms, so preservation of these uncovered stories may depend on written record alone as time goes on.  It was a fascinating presentation and I've duplicated the brochure here for you:

If Birchbark Canoes interest you, you will enjoy Bark Canoes and Skin Boats of North America by Edwin Tappan Adney and Howard Chapelle with a forward by John McPhee.  Lee referenced it several times during his presentation and it has been a perennial best seller for us since we began incorporating great books into our retail store in 1979.  An interesting read and a fantastic resource.

Book of the Week Manitou Canyon by William Kent Krueger

I like the Cork O'Connor series of mystery books by William Kent Krueger quite a bit.  More importantly, for myself, I like Krueger quite a bit.  I've met him twice, both times in Ely.  He's been here at Piragis for a book signing and reading and he's been to our new Ely Library.  At the time of his last visit Manitou Canyon was about to be released and I got my hands on an advanced reader's copy.  It didn't disappoint.

Everyone loves a good car chase in a movie and Krueger delivers on some great canoe chases in the wilderness.  There's something about a wilderness mystery that includes danger from humans that moves the story even more fluidly forward (and sideways) through an already wild environment.  Add in the unknown approach of Winter's grip and after just a few pages (paragraphs really) the reader wishes they had the whole day to spend in the midst of this story.

Perhaps the real reason that William Kent Krueger finds his novels on the New York Times Bestsellers list is because he naturally slips in between the pages of his stories.  Ordinary Grace won the Edgar Award for Best Novel and many think this stand alone book holds some of his greatest work.  Fans of the world that Cork finds himself in, the land of the Superior National Forest, Boundary Waters and Beyond, though, find themselves connected in very personal ways to Krueger's cast of characters.  His unabashed efforts to incorporate social problems that face us all but women and Native Americans in particular deliver a punch to our reality gut that can't be ignored. This writer takes the time to know the land and the people he writes about.  The fact that these stories are woven into the fabric of our own backyard makes our paths cross in ways that other books can't.  We find ourselves walking and paddling the same routes, capturing the same sights and smells around the campfire with O'Connor.

In person he is generous with his time (he's taken a few minutes each time I've met him to discuss with me the pages of my own novel in the works).  He is engaging and honest about his path to success and the power of story.  He's also committed to the story itself.  Oh, and he's generous with his time.  Yes, I repeated that because I would encourage you to attend a reading and signing if he is scheduled to appear in a local bookstore near you.  The talk and question and answer sessions are worth the time!

If you've been looking for a good series that won't fail to entertain, don't miss out on Krueger, he won't let you down.  And... you don't have to start at the beginning.  Give Manitou Canyon a try!

"Manitou Canyon 

by William Kent Krueger

Since the violent deaths of his wife, father, and best friend all occurred in previous Novembers, Cork O’Connor has always considered it to be the cruelest of months. Yet, his daughter has chosen this dismal time of year in which to marry, and Cork is understandably uneasy.

His concern comes to a head when a man camping in Minnesota’s Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness goes missing. As the official search ends with no recovery in sight, Cork is asked by the man’s family to stay on the case. Although the wedding is fast approaching and the weather looks threatening, he accepts and returns to that vast wilderness on his own."

North Shore Road Trip

Monday was a day off for Easter break for my kids and so we hit the road.  Jen and the girls headed one direction and Simon and I headed into the wind, for the North Shore of Lake Superior.  Down Highway One out of Ely, into the teeth of an April "snowstorm".  The flakes were huge and the further we drove, the more evidence of snow could be seen on the branches of the pines and forest floor.  It was April, though, so 95 percent of it wasn't destined to last the hour, let alone, the day.

We turned off of Highway One and onto Two on our way towards Two Harbors.  Easy on the directions, easy on the eyes.  We stopped at two points of interest on our way through the forest and the surrounding lowlands.  One was a little public access to a roadside lake and one was a forest service picnic area.

This particular spot has a sign titled, "Sentinels of the Past" and shares the fact that these old White Pines were already 70 years old when the Declaration of Independence was signed in 1776.  Standing under them, with the last evidence of of winter desperately clinging to their branches I couldn't help but notice a chill running up my spine.  They are survivors and they are a constant reminder that the forest around us is a living, breathing organism.  It isn't simply a place to enjoy, it is, very much so, a part of our home that has a much longer history than we do.

How many have stood under these trees?  How many have stood there with their sons who are now men and are making preparations for college.  What kind of lessons could be learned with time enough to sit on a fallen pine that has been in this place for 300 years or more?  It was a quiet morning under the clouds and a perfect beginning to our road trip.

Ely is a great spot to visit and to kick off your Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness trips.  It has a lot to offer, including spending time around town and our area before and/or after your canoe trips.  The North Shore is less than two hours of driving that could include multiple wildlife sitings like moose and more!  Our bookstore manager, Jordyn, saw a moose the day before we drove down Highway One and so did Drew Brockett, our canoe trip outfitting manager.  Here's a shot of the one he saw on Sunday.

We continued our trip, down to Two Harbors and took a left to check out how the waters of Gitche Gumee were breaking against the shore and the Split Rock Lighthouse.  Driving through massive tunnels in the granite, pulling over at various rivers and rest stops, listening to music on the winding road.  Everything combined for a fantastic soundtrack to the best movie I've seen in years, right through the windows of the Mountaineer.  Best of all, whenever we wanted, we could park and walk right into the environment all around us.

The black sandy beach filled with battered and softened rocks and driftwood, the bike paths, the cold spray in our faces and the snowflakes that were by this time fading in their strength, these things woke me up to the beauty of Spring and the ice-out season.

We turned around at some point and headed to Duluth for lunch.  Afterwards, we returned by the Scenic North Shore route and stopped to experience anything that caught our eyes.  The sun had come out and the blue of the sky was now reflected in the big waters of our inland sea.

It was hard to leave...

A Boundary Waters Poem: Driftwood

Driftwood

Sometimes, through the mist,
I can see the lichen advancing.
Creeping across granite slabs
greening in the shadows,
transposing the hours and
years into
moments
lost
in

the changing
of the guard
where dawn leaves the
deepest, thickest darkness
behind and lifts the blanket
off the tree tops.

The lake waters
come for us
at
first
with slow unassuming
ripples,
rippled,
then in earnest.
Rising in gaseous form,
tendrils reaching into
camp like fingers
of the wilderness
itself, searching
for you and I.

We sit squinting at bobbers
blurred to nothingness,
far out on the edge
of the lily pads,
Our trepidatious touch
with the bottom
and yesterday balancing
on the edge
of what’s plausible
and lost sleep.

It’s too early for sunfish
but the big pike are sight
hunting through the
weeds that climb up
from the sandy bottom
in feathery forests.

Your bobber disappears
and I’m reminded
of what this place
will look like when the
sun burns off all
the mystery and
the two of us
are real
again.

Behind me in the
forest, a twig snaps
and it occurs
to me
that
we may not
have much time left.


©Timothy James Stouffer 05262016
All Rights Reserved Ely, Minnesota

Poem: Low Water Mark

Steve Piragis went out paddling into the early evening yesterday. His picture reflected some of the most subtle afternoon light we've seen so far this year.  It is hard to believe that November is already upon us.  This poem came to mind.  Enjoy.

Low Water Mark

Rising from dark water;

spires climb,

the green trees of years

gone by.  Now like 

bannerless flag posts

rooted in the wetland soil.

Sentinels of the lake

silent, watching.

Reaching through gray.

blue and pink toward

the retreating sun.

Arms entreating dead

grasses to join in the dance.

Canoe bow splits

reflection’s perfection.

Abandoned wood duck

house rocking slowly

to the rhythm of the 

dead wind.

Redwing blackbird

calls from the cattails.

Beaver tail slaps to 

the North.  Pileated beak

strikes home and keeps

the beat, hidden in the 

dark, jagged line of pines.

The colors deepen.  No

one is home, or,

are they?  Paddle pushes

us into the night.

© Timothy James Stouffer, 11/04/2015

All Rights Reserved

Camp Notes 2015

Took along a Rite in the Rain pocket journal and scratched down some notes from our last camping trip this Summer.

I would call these things old friends. Simple observations that arrive in bursts and bubbles that float briefly above my head in camp like those from comic books.  With exclamation marks.

They are not earth shattering. Some may not even scratch the surface of your experiences.  That’s o.k. They are, in part reasons, why I go camping.  They are together, with many other daily experiences under the tall pines and on top of solid granite, profound in their simplicity. I dare say if I had experienced them even on an irregular basis as a child they would have been enough to change my life.

Because I could imagine them and tasted them at different times, even if not together — all on one epic trip - they waited for me and greeted me as an adult with kids of my own. Returning to the woods each year, they continue to welcome me like living memories.

Coffee tastes better in a French Press at camp than at the priciest, most stylish coffee shop - even the ones with the leather couches that threaten to swallow you with comfort. Balancing on an old log and savoring each sip, my morning is complete before the sun has even crested the treeline.

At home my dog is inseparable from me.  At camp he explores and lies down by himself. He’ll ask to be let into the tent for a nap. He does however want to be included in canoe rides, fishing expeditions and hammock naps.

The crappie I pulled up from the deep bottom with the moon rising sharply overhead.  It felt like a walleye and I treated it as such, fighting it in, surprised at the end that its fragile paper mouth held the larger hook.  Black and white, it was reflected as a copy of itself off the water that had turned flat as glass.

Dragonflies flew all around me as I fished in the dark.

The flickering flames of the fire through the tree branches calling me back to my family on shore and the fragrant smell of smoke drifting across the lake.

The imagined and real movement of a hammock underneath you as you sleep suspended between two huge trees.

Minnows schooling in the morning water. Sand underneath lit with the day’s first light. In the afternoon tiny rollers left bright light patterns across the surface of the lake.  More minnows in the growing warmth.

Lily pad stems grabbing you while you swim.  Did you know that if you burn your finger while cooking or get a sunburn, the underneath of a lily pad when rubbed on your burn mimics the cooling and healing properties of aloe?

The cold rush of the first swim of the day is one of the most refreshing things on Earth.

Everything. Everything tastes better.  Even mistakes.

The black from the cooking pots that gets on your fingers.

The feeling of togetherness and on-the-same-pageness that is present from the time we land at camp. This is accompanied by a pervading sense of calm and relaxation.

How much better a good book is when read in a tent or with your back against a tree in the sun.

The tantalizing smell of bacon over a flames that pulls everyone to the campfire like a magnet.

Toads.

Flaky white fish fried to perfection and breaded golden brown with eggs over easy and camp potatoes.

A walk in the dark under the light of the stars without your headlamps.

The ripples that forever change the complexion of the lake right before your bobber disappears under the surface. Those two to three seconds you wait before setting the hook.

Riding back towards Ely and home, silent in the car, before you are pulled back into the unreality of busy everyday life.

Stuff that works: Cliff Jacobson's Susie Bug Net

Well, thankfully, every once in a while we get examples of unique uses (and everyday uses) of our gear mailed to us in the form of pictures, emails, written letters, prints, etc. We love to hear from you guys, so anytime you've got feedback on our canoes, gear or customer service feel free to pass it on.

Cooke Custom Sewing makes a popular product that we've carried in our catalog for years. Since it is really a big bag of netting, I struggled with a way to picture its versatility and functionality in the catalog. Of course I wanted to get a picture in use outdoors, with lots of bugs swarming, but where to get the volunteers? And what about the poor guy behind the camera... and then how to get the netting to show up in the catalog on the page? That was the real goal.

So we set up this picture in the studio long ago. Boy my kids were little then :)

Susie Bug Net

And hey, this IS ONE use for the net.  Reading in your camp chair.  Provides the relief.  People drape it over the latrine, it is true.  Folks take it out into the lake when the bathe, true too.  The point is it works.  Click Here for the Susie Bug Net in our Catalog.

One customer sent us a short explanation of his use and a picture.  Then we understood something else as well.  It REALLY WORKS WELL.  In some settings it could keep a person sane -- like way up in the Yukon where the bugs were nasty bad!

"I've been looking at that happy family picture of the Bug Net for years.

Attached is a "real" picture of the Suzie Bag Bug Net in use.

The picture was self-timed in the Yukon Flats in 2003.  For my 60th year, I paddled solo in an open canoe from Whitehorse to the Pipeline crossing, about 1100 miles, loafing along and taking 60 days to do it.

I had a bunch of your stuff, including Boat Tape, D-ring kit, Kevlar repair kit, Blue Barrels, Bilge Sponge,  a map case and Mukluk Lights, but the Suzie Bag was the thing that I could not have done without.

The picture is yours.  Enjoy or use it anyway you want.

Tommy T."

Reading in the Susie Bug Net on the Yukon River.  Click for larger view.

Click Here for the Susie Bug Net in our Catalog.

Send us your pictures of Stuff That Works from Piragis!  You can contact us here.

Lifting Boundary Waters Canoes for Women

Women can easily lift Boundary Waters Canoes. Nancy Piragis illustrates just how easy it is for women and those with bad backs to lift a Wenonah Minnesota II up on your shoulders. Start with the canoe on your quads and using both hands on opposite sides of the canoe, flip it/roll it up onto your shoulders resting the horseshoe yoke around your neck. Kevlar canoes commonly weigh 44 - 48 lbs and there is no reason that women in average physical shape shouldn't be able to lift a one with this technique.