Paddle it Forward Reflection 1

Most of the reflections will involve little glimpses  of beauty, and friendships  and holy moments.

This first one will be a little longer….the story of how it all began.

It was just a few days after the awful events of 9-11 when we embarked on a journey around Hunter’s Island in Quetico , an historic route of the voyageurs.

Having spent six summers on staff at Wilderness and then bringing young people from the churches where I was a pastor over a 20 year span, I was invited by Jim Wiinanen to accompany some of the principal staff at both Wilderness and Wapogasset as a kind of get to know you (wonder if this proposed marriage will work) time.

In a world rocked by the  tragic events of 9-11, we wondered if we should cancel the trip altogether were it not for some key folks who encouraged us to go. Six of us, Joel Rogness and Larissa Gothschalk from Wilderness, Tim Knutson and Peter Tonn from Wapo along with Jim Wiinanen and I set out, not really knowing what the world would look like when we returned.

In no small way, along with our packs we carried much of the world’s angst in our hearts and minds. At the same time, as it often does the wilderness offered a measure of peace and freedom for which our weary souls longed desperately.

We had 8 days to complete that journey, which meant we had to rise early and paddle late every day. I thank Jim Wiinanen for making sure we took the time to visit pictographs, marvel at the changing fall colors, take a detour through a swamp, get within 20 ft of a bull moose swimming as we exited a portage.

We were blessed with remarkably placid waters through much of the trip, which made the long days more than manageable. When we got to Basswood Lake, thinking that a prevailing west wind might carry us home through Knife Lake and up the Ottertrack, everything changed.

As we entered Basswood, there was a driving rain storm which forced us to take shelter on the Canadian side. The rain subsided but the temperature began to drop and our last big paddle days were into the face of a stiff east wind. We paddled across a two mile stretch of Basswood against two foot waves and not even the dot of an island to offer relief. Even though I knew every one of my companions would risk their lives to rescue a capsized canoe, swamping was not an option.

The trip across Knife and up the Ottertrack posed no danger but it was a tough slog against the wind. As we paddled up the Ottertrack, one could begin to feel a change in the air. The clouds above began to play games and suddenly the wind began to shift again. We took a good while exploring the place where Benny Ambrose had lived and then headed for Monument Portage.

One never knows what you will find when you emerge onto Saganaga Lake. Wind is usually a factor one way or the other. It is sort of like Lake Superior. You take what it gives you.

On this day, remarkably, Big Sag was perfectly placid. We brought the three canoe together and sat in the stillness for over an hour, looking into Cache Bay where the journey had begun 8 days ago. Jim read us something the Sigurd Olson had written about Saganaga as it captured the heart of the wilderness.

As we sat there in silence for a good while in that holy space, I looked over at Larissa as she whispered , “ I made it…”

It wasn’t about covering the miles of that incredible journey. It wasn’t about putting up with 5 male companions for a whole week. It wasn’t about having escaped from a world reeling.

It was about finding the center of her soul again.

It’s why she came.

It’s why we all come back to the wilderness.

Paz, Jeff Barrow