Weekend in the Quetico

Last Friday a college buddy and I canoed into the Quetico for a long weekend of camping and trout fishing. An early-season canoe trip is a spring ritual, and spending time in canoe country helps me recalibrate.

Russ and I knew this was a short-trip, so we didn't overextend. A 90-minute paddle after leaving Prairie Portage took us to our two-night wilderness "home." Friday afternoon was pleasant but Saturday was brisk and bitter. A quarter-inch of ice formed in our cooking pot. Wind-whipped snow pelted us as we clung to the south shore of our campsite and hid from the northwest wind. We had camped here before and knew where to seek shelter from the mercurial May winds, and with some work we caught a few lake trout.

On Sunday afternoon, before we left Ely to return to Grand Rapids, we stopped to see my parents. They live on the north side of Shagawa Lake, and Russ and my other college friends have become sons to them. Visiting with Mom and Dad after a canoe trip has become part of the spring journey to the Northwoods. My mother proudly displays last fall's campaign sign outside the front picture window. The only eyes to see this sign, positioned so strategically, would be the deer that graze on the sunny south side of the house that faces the lake. Nevertheless, my mother proudly points out that she is ready for the next campaign.

It's another May canoe trip complete with a dose of maternal support and encouragement.