Northern Tier Canoe Base Expedition

July 10 - July 20, 2002

Saturday, July 13, 2002
A Crew Is Born

Ryan had told us that the worst was behind us and his words turned out to be true. Our hard portage of the day before had taken us off the Bloodvein River and onto the Gammon River, where we'd be paddling upstream for the next few days. What a difference the passing of a single day can make. The crew was really starting to pull together as I'd hoped it would. Watching the transformation take place before my eyes as boys made a few small but sure steps towards manhood was very gratifying, just as it had been three years ago at Philmont. Other rare sights we enjoyed were those of several bald eagles both perched in trees and on the wing. It was the first time that any of us had seen one at all, much less getting to see them in the wild. We also got a distant view of a moose as it was leaving the river several hundred yards ahead of us. Spotting a moose in the wild does not happen very often. Ryan had been working all summer taking crews out on treks, and he had only seen one other. Several of the guys tried their luck at fishing along the way and one of them got a little too lucky. He hooked a huge walleye, but just as our collective mouths were beginning to water over the prospect of a fresh fish dinner, it snapped his pole in five places and escaped.
Moby fish.
Just about the time our campsite came into view in the distance, so did the rain clouds. All three crewmembers of the U.S.S. Jezebel put their backs into their paddles to try to make camp before the skies opened up. We landed and got our gear unloaded before the other boats made shore, allowing us to help the others as the arrived. It was a race to get the tents up and the dining fly strung before the rain hit, and we won. The campsite was terrific. More than anything it resembled a wide granite beach that sloped gently down to the water. There was plenty of room for us to spread out. We were able to get dinner cooked, eaten, and cleaned up after with plenty of daylight remaining. This was a big contrast to the first two days. Many of the guys decided to spend some time fishing from the shore, so I joined them along with my son. My luck was very consistent which is to say non-existent.. I did manage to hook one pike long enough for us to get a good look at each other before it calmly unhooked itself and swam away. It didn't matter much though, it was good to just be there. Who needed TV, computers, phones, or video games anyway? That night, lying in the tent and listening to the lake lapping onto the shore a short distance away, I could already tell that I was going to miss that sound when the trek was over. One last look at the map before retiring seemed to show that we had a long paddling day ahead of us, but we were ready.