Lost Among the Pages of Lost Among the Birds Book Review

What if life took you on a year long journey where every moment was like a grain of sand sifting through a giant hourglass and in the recesses of your mind you could hear the hands of the clock ticking closer to... but none of that mattered because even though time was winding down, the quest, and the journey and the relationship with our winged neighbors drew you deeper and deeper after an unmistakably exciting goal?

"This book came to me from a friend who is only a very casual birder on vacation trips. She and her friend who is even less of an avid birder both recommend it. As a avid birder for, wow, 50 years now I was skeptical. Let it be said that I was judging the book by its advocates and, wow again, was I wrong. I loved it and got so tied up reading it in my usual reading spot, the tub, I think I over soaked again. My wife and I actually used the authors list of birds from his "Big Year" in the back of the book to search out and find birds in Arizona last month.

I find myself wanting to go to remote Attu Island now this summer; one spot even the author missed in 2013. "Lost" is funny, insightful and just plain fun to read if you're a life long birder or, as my friends have proven, even if you just appreciate the occasional sighting out the kitchen window or on the ferry to Nantucket. Read it, you'll see."  -- Steve Piragis

Lost Among the Birds

by Neil Hayward

Early in 2013 Neil Hayward was at a crossroads. He didn't want to open a bakery or whatever else executives do when they quit a lucrative but unfulfilling job. He didn't want to think about his failed relationship with "the one" or his potential for ruining a new relationship with "the next one." And he almost certainly didn't want to think about turning forty. And so instead he went birding.

Birding was a lifelong passion. It was only among the birds that Neil found a calm that had eluded him in the confusing world of humans. But this time he also found competition. His growing list of species reluctantly catapulted him into a Big Year--a race to find the most birds in one year. His peregrinations across twenty-eight states and six provinces in search of exotic species took him to a hoarfrost-covered forest in Massachusetts to find a Fieldfare; to Lake Havasu, Arizona, to see a rare Nutting's Flycatcher; and to Vancouver for the Red-flanked Bluetail. Neil's Big Year was as unplanned as it was accidental: It was the perfect distraction to life.

Neil shocked the birding world by finding 749 species of bird and breaking the long-standing Big Year record. He also surprised himself: During his time among the hummingbirds, tanagers, and boobies, he found a renewed sense of confidence and hope about the world and his place in it.

We hope you'll enjoy this book as much as we did and remember that you can find it online at The Boundary Waters catalog along with thousands of other titles or here in our upstairs bookstore the next time you visit Ely, Minnesota and Piragis Northwoods Company.

A Walk in the Woods

The green city population sign near the David Dill Taconite Trail on Highway One, doesn’t tell the whole story.  First, Ely’s population seems to ebb and flow with the seasons and because the snowbirds leave before the white stuff arrives and return after it leaves our waistline grows after the ice retreats.  Second, on the edge of town, in the middle of town, and definitely in the Superior National Forest that surrounds our little hamlet, wildlife is abundant and surprisingly not too shy.

We’ve seen lynx in town, deer on a regular basis, wolves on the outer streets, small mammals (or smammals) are commonplace.  I’m sure at some point in the not to distant past a moose or two has sauntered across the city lines.  On our honeymoon, my wife and I were shopping at what was then Hill’s Wilderness Canoe Outfitters and a yearling black bear sidled right into the side door and raised himself up on a rack of paddling shirts.  Jen turned to the cashier and asked, “Does he shop here often?”

We share this space with those of four feet, not to mention the wide variety of avian neighbors that we have.  It is one of the things that makes Ely and the Boundary Waters a wonderful place to call home.  

The Taconite Trail knifes through the edge of Ely and bisects both Highway One and Highway 21 on the other side.  It is trafficked most during winter months as a snowmobile trail and as I walked it last night, it sported ATV tracks.  At this time of year about half of it is dry, a quarter is soft and another quarter is wet.  The wet parts vary from ankle deep or deeper water that is pure ice melt and about 39 degrees to liquid mud.  I wore running shoes and broke through ice several times to fill them with water.

Early spring in Ely always holds on to snow and ice patches in the woods mostly due the protective shade from the trees.  Unless a trail is wide and on high ground and doesn’t have tall trees overhead, snow and ice will prevail for weeks to come.  We’re still dropping down into the low thirties and high twenties at night and have yet to climb steadily out of the mid fifties during the day.

The Taconite is a rolling up and down walk for much of its course and meanders through a variety of woodland trees dotted with granite outcroppings and a few wide open meadow spaces.  Towards the edge of the city limits over by Highway One, the trail intersects the burn area from a couple of years ago when a power line fell and ignited a fire that threatened to advance to homes.  In the end that fire was responsible for taking out one or two outbuildings on private property, but no homes.  Through a timely, skilled and valiant effort, Ely was saved by fire fighters and fire fighter pilots!

I was walking hard, exercising, for most of the trail, but I did take some time to smell the roses or swamp fringes as it were.  And.  Time. To. Listen.  The birds were out enjoying the extended sunlight.  I heard distinctly a powerful stamping of a large dear, probably a doe, but because everything around was a dull mud brown, I couldn’t spot her amidst the red of the ash saplings and the brown of the red pine trunks.  The hummocks of grass hid the few frogs that called out with high reaching belches of sounds so close to the small bird calls that it was hard to tell them apart.  The robins were back.  Two days before on the same trail, Jen spotted a secretive beaver.

I wished at this point that I'd brought along a book that my boss, Steve Piragis, just reviewed.  Lost Among the Birds.  It'd be a relaxing cap to the evening to sit and read while the sun went down, but it was getting colder and I needed to move on.

I discovered a couple of piles of wolf scat.  From then on I felt (no, not followed) but at home.  Like I’d made it far enough into the wild to enjoy the new sun on my back and the sounds of nature all around, that didn’t include civilization powered chainsaws, cars or music.  The music up ahead was some of the most beautiful and original ever heard.  Never the same score, always a new melody with running water.  Water flowing over root and rock.  In this case water that had carved out a valley for itself under a frozen patch of snow.

It was the kind of place I’d have liked to stay for hours as a kid.  Floating leaf boats and twigs through the tunnel and out into the wetlandish lowland marsh on the other side.  It would be a good place to sit and journal or appreciate the sunset.  I left it after a brief respite knowing that the next time I walked this trail it would be transformed into just another muddy patch across my path.

There are places in the world where everything comes close to staying the same.  Ely isn’t one of them.  Here we are always in flux.  “If you don’t like the weather,” my Grandfather used to say, “wait a moment.” (and you might not like that either)  Northern Minnesota keeps things interesting.  Which is one of the reasons there’s always something new the locals are talking about when you arrive to visit. 

What happens when you escape to the wilder areas though, still remains the same, though varied in our perception and experience.  Just a few steps or paddle strokes away from everyone else it is inevitable that you will find a freedom of spirit, a lightening of your load as stress is lifted off your shoulders.  Truth.  Sometimes it is replaced by a heavy portage pack, but that is a burden we gladly take upon ourselves.  One that makes each day more fulfilling when we slip it off at the end of the day or part way down the trail to lean upon and reflect how real this all is, and how it is worth protecting no matter the cost.

That’s where my trail took me, where does yours lead?

Tim Stouffer
The Boundary Waters Catalog

First Paddle Of The Spring

The first time for almost anything is usually the best. OK, not quite everything but almost.  

Spring gets in your blood and you have to go, at least, I do.  My wife, who would perhaps prefer to get out one more time on the skate skis on the big lakes that are still icy, agreed to a day of paddling on Friday.  Our choices were few but interesting.  Little Indian Sioux River leading south off the Echo Trail is usually open of ice early and it leads to one of the Boundary Waters most interesting water falls, oddly enough, Sioux Falls.   

With the Minnesota II loaded up on the new Colorado truck for its maiden shuttle, off we went up the Echo.  A quick stop at the entry on the other side of the road, Little Indian Sioux North because that's where the Forest Service latrine is, revealed that we were not the first paddlers out.  Three cars were in the lot headed downstream to Upper and Lower Pauness lakes.   We launched upstream on the flat water of the Sioux R. South headed into a pretty constant breeze in search of spring.  

The ducks were about already.  Common goldeneyes burst into the air in front of us only to wheel back to check us out from a safe height while the less curious ducks like mallards and hooded mergansers just flew out of sight.  Around the  next curve, there they were again ready to bolt as soon as we reappeared.  The meadows bordering the river were quiet still awaiting the warmth of May before coming alive with warblers and sedge wrens and slew pumpers (American bitterns).   A couple hours down range and up stream on the Sioux and the distant roar of the falls fills the air.  

What can be a trickle in summer was a raging torrent on Friday.  Melt water is flowing everywhere into the watershed in April up north.  Snows of January have turned to cold trickles gaining at each confluence until the river is full and overflowing into its leatherleaf and sedge borders.  At the falls it's hard to hear over the roar.  But, out of the wind and in the spring sun and after 2 hours of working into the wind, it was time for lunch.  Nothing like egg salad on 100 ancient grains bread and some of Nancy's homemade pickles.   Followed by another first, the first nap of the spring on the old Seda life vest.

No need to overdo it.  We pack up and head back for the sail to the north with the wind and with whatever current the river offered.  An hour later we're back at the truck satisfied that living up north in the shadow of a great wilderness is always fun and amazing.

 Hope to see you in Ely this summer,

Steve Piragis
The Boundary Waters Catalog

Angling in the Boundary Waters by Reid Carron

Fly anglers who are tired of fighting the crowds on the famous streams in the Rockies and on the coasts can find a respite from the competition by coming to the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness.  More than a thousand Wilderness lakes (and others in the Superior National Forest outside the Boundary Waters) present great opportunities to catch smallmouth bass and northerns (and the occasional walleye) on flies from the fishing opener in May until late September.  On most lakes on most days, there won’t be another canoe in sight.  Trout anglers accustomed to wading or driftboat fishing will need to adjust their casting strokes a bit to compensate for fishing from a canoe seat, but as a fly fishing fanatic who is not a stellar caster I can attest that the transition is not difficult.  Casting poppers, streamers, and crayfish imitations for our big “warmwater” game fish is less technical than stream trout fishing but no less rewarding.

Take two rods to maximize the opportunities and the fun.  I prefer a five-weight rod for smallmouth (and sometimes largemouth) bass. With a weight-forward floating line and a tapered monofilament bass bug leader, it’s easy to cast poppers and small streamers accurately to the nooks and crannies where bass wait for prey.  An eight-weight with a streamer taper weight-forward line and a heavy monofilament leader with a wire tippet is the right rig for northerns. The only fly you need for northerns (and walleyes) is a 2/0 chartreuse or chartreuse and white Clouser.  A northern will come a long way for the Clouser. The tricky part is that northerns often can’t resist a bass bug or a smaller streamer, which I fish without a wire tippet on the five-weight rod because wire deadens the action of smaller flies.  The northerns fail to ask which rod you are using before they hit.  Be prepared to lose some bass flies. 

But you don’t need to be a fly angler to enjoy fishing in the Boundary Waters.  My good friend Steve Piragis prefers spincasting Rapalas or spoons--or sometimes fishing leeches for walleyes for the pan.  Steve is a wonderful stern-seat paddler, and he keeps me in position for fly casting while fishing very effectively himself.  It’s a great combination.  Come to Ely with your fly rod or whatever rod-and-reel combo you prefer.  You will have a fun fishing adventure in the world’s greatest canoe country.

Photo credits Ben Carron, Reid Carron, and Steve Piragis.

A Walk in the Woods

Fall Hike to the Falls

 Leave work and head out for hike on a Saturday afternoon?  Everyone should be so lucky as to live near a great wilderness like the Boundary Waters.  I couldn’t resist the temptation on a mid-October day with the temps stretching towards 65 and the last of the yellow and gold of fall still on the trees.

The short Kawishiwi Falls Trail is one I’ve hiked a dozen times.  Usually the destination is Fall Lake to see early migrating ducks in April or the falls during high water to gaze at the power of water roaring over the rocks.  This was more of stroll this past Saturday, a saunter really, with a camera, just the I phone camera.  I hope you like the photos but they can only show a moment in time in two dimensions when the experience is so much more.

Take the smells for one; fresh sawed logs from trees toppled over the trail in wind storms this summer, the moist pockets of balsamic air, the sweet smell of popple leaves rotting into humus and  the mist over the falls carrying a few molecules of the pungency of freshwater sponge.   Then there is the human dimension.

People on any trail change the moment to a human experience.  And, were there ever people out on Saturday in the late autumn sunshine.  I’m usually trying to find solitude in nature but it felt really good to see so many people out.  The trail is near town, there’s good parking (all full) and it’s an easy walk.  This trail is all about getting older people, people with kids and just saunterers like me out for a half hour or an hour into nearby nature.   I saw families with little kids, couples holding hands, 6 younger women (younger than me anyway) all carrying big coffee cups and the occasional older guy out by himself, all walking the trail.

Sounds too don’t show up on photos but if they did you’d hear leaves shaking in the breeze, kid’s excited chatter and the background always of the falls.  Noises, smells and the presence of people help to fill the senses on this hike on this day.

I was there in a different mood.   I was in the creative mood with the camera.  I got passed by all the other hikers as I sauntered from one tree to the next rock toward the destination; the falls.    Actually, I forgot about the falls until it hit me in the face with the view at the end of the trail.  I was focused on the yellow birch with their tinted bark and clinging yellow leaves.  It was really a walking meditation, keeping the senses all awake and aware to spot the light.  Light on leaves, light on ancient boulders and their communities of fern and moss, bright light of the sun setting slowly through tangles of brush and crooked limbs of the birch left standing after the storms of this tumultuous summer.

I took an hour to do a half hour hike.  I shot maybe 100 images.   I had no destination so the circular trail was perfect to get me back while never having to decide to turn around.  (great thing about circles)   It was fulfilling.  I hope you have a trail near you too.  Hike it slowly sometime and see the light.

-- Steve

Steve Piragis
Piragis Northwoods Company
105 N. Central Ave
Ely, Mn 55731