A Guides Life | North towards Canada
A lone gray wolf sits on the road, possibly enjoying the morning sun. He is in no rush and doesn’t seemed bothered by us as our car drives by.
It appears to be a good sign as we make our way to Moose Lake entry point, one of the many gateways to the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness in northern Minnesota. We have a 3-day winter camping trip planned and expect quite a bit of solitude. I am the guide.
We pull in to the small parking lot with a trailer full of toboggans. They’re laden with gear that will keep us warm and safe. This is the first time my clients will experience winter camping like this.
Excitement is running high and although each woman has camping experience, one or two have communicated that they have some fear about traveling over ice and curious about all the ways we’ll stay warm. I totally get that as I sometimes deal with those thoughts as well. Will we be warm enough this time? What if the stove fails? Will the weather shift? While mother-nature must be respected, I feel like I have enough experience to keep us all safe. Fingers crossed nobody falls through the ice. Joking. Mostly.
The day is warming quickly from -13º temps that blanketed Ely overnight. The sun is out and it’s around 15º by the time we get on the ice. Each woman pulls a sled that is attached to a rope and tump line that lays over the chest. Backcountry skis are strapped and last layers are packed as we’ll warm up fast. We’re each dragging 75+ pounds and so staying toasty is no issue.
Large outcroppings along Moose Lake provide dramatic reliefs in the winter.
Our route takes us roughly 4 miles north towards Newfound Lake. Our destination is just shy of 2 miles from Canada as the crow flies. The going is easy as we follow a packed musher trail marked with a small pine branches every 100’.
Passing over the thin strip of land between Moose and Newfound we avoid the dark blue of open water that is evident in the narrows there. Two more miles and we reach our campsite, situated on a small peninsula facing northeast. During the day we passed two others who’d camped there. I had already planned to camp there and was happy to hear a small pile of firewood was left.
We lugged the sleds up the short steep embankment to the campsite. You’d hardly know it was a site with all evidence buried under 2-3’ feet of snow. No fire grate in site. The previous group had been there 8 days and created packed trails towards the peninsula and latrine.. Only real bummer was that they had peed everywhere and didn’t cover up the evidence. Yuck. PSA -always leave no trace even if you think nobody will be there for a while - or ever. Our group took a few minutes to rest and eat a grab-n-go lunch of meat, cheese and bagel.
We found a spot to tuck the Snowtrekker tent into the trees. While the USFS recommends camping on lakes, it’s a challenge to do as slushy conditions are common and lake conditions change. It took us about an hour to set up the tent as we needed to spend the majority of the time shoveling a space to set it up within. We had three shovels with us and while three went to work, the fourth began to scout for more wood. We figured the previous occupants had a freshly chopped hole in the ice for gathering water so we didn’t worry much about that.
Once the tent was set up, the small wood stove was set in place and the fire started. Ah, those first crackles, there’s nothing like it!
Water was gathered from the nearly open hole (just a few quick chops needed from the ice chisel). A few set up their bedding. I made a quick dash to set up my bivy back in the woods which consisted of a waxed ground cloth, two sleeping pads, my 0º bag and 20º quilt. It was all topped off with my ultra light tarp. Fingers crossed I’d stay warm.
Coffee and tea was set out as the group processed and gathered more wood. Some sawed, some split, some stacked. It takes a decent amount of wood to stay warm and we wanted to be comfortable. We were motivated spend until dinner working on wood so that we’d have to gather less the following days. The group was enthusiastic and jumped in on all of the chores.
As the light started to fade, I started making a dinner on the wood stove. Anyone who’s been on the trail knows food tastes amazing and tonights meal was great! The outfitter I work for plans and packs all the food and we always have plenty. The group gathered in the warm tent. Wet socks started to accumulate on the laundry that runs from the tent poles.
I switched out my own damp base layers and sat for a minute in my underwear while the others teased me about my state of undress. One of the women exclaimed, “we should call you No Pants Pam”. I burst out laughing as my backpacking buddies keep trying to give me the trail name “Pantless Pam”. I guess the wilderness spirits have spoken and I will forever be known as “Pantless.” Ugh. It still makes me laugh.
Once we were dry, bowls of steaming stir fry with rice were passed around. Is there a better comfort to be deep in the woods, situated by a crackling stove and a hot bowl of food? Hard to compete. As I washed the dishes, two lanterns glowed overhead and chatter ensued as everyone reflected on the day.
Tent Sweet Tent on Newfound Lake.
Winter camping is hard work - harder than a summer canoe trip in my opinion. However, at the end of the day as muscles ache from moving like they’re supposed to, there is satisfactory feeling that this is really living. We’re 30 miles away from any town - surrounded by beauty silence and slow flakes falling from clouds that blanket us. It’s a glimmer of what was meant to be and what I believe will come.
Checking to see if anyone wants a hot water bottle tucked into their sleeping bag for warmth, I stoke the stove one last time and bid everyone goodnight. Lit by a small lantern, I peel back my bag, stuffing myself into a cocoon of thick insulation really hoping I don’t have to get up to pee much. It’s invigorating getting out of a warm bag to expose your backside to the cold. Ha!
I think I sleep for a few small pockets of the night. Frankly, I don’t feel like I slept at all. I think it’s partially because I want to be “on” as a guide and while I’m warm, I’m not quite warm enough to fall asleep. Not sure what’s the issue as I’ve done this many times before.
Around 6am light dawns and I creep into the tent to start the stove and get hot water going. Scrambled eggs with veggies and hashbrowns are for breakfast and all need to be rehydrated. Nobody stirs much and I enjoy the quiet and gathering warmth from the stove.
Eventually, we eat and discuss what people would like to do today. The women opt to relax for the morning, enjoying the comfort of their beds. Each grab a book while I finish up the dishes. I sit for a bit, drifting off for about a half-hour to catch up on sleep. Afterward, I head out to process more wood and gather more water. The group begins to stir, happy that this has been a welcome change from regular life.
Day trip to Manomin Lake using Altai Hok backcountry skis. They’re like using a combo of snowshoes and cross-country skis.
Later in the afternoon we strap on our skis and venture towards Manomin Lake (Anishinaabe Nation's word for wild rice). We cross over our first portage from Newfound into Found Lake. I often wonder how some of the lakes get their names. From Found Lake we travel another mile over a portage trail, reaching Manomin. The portage is gorgeous with pockets of aspen, spruce and an open section that goes through a bog and over large beaver dam. It’s a winter trail, not accessible in other seasons. It’s been well packed by other trekkers.
As we look over the scenic expanse of Manomin, we hear dogs. Eventually, from the opposite side of the lake, where the other portage should be, we see two people pulling sleds, skijoring with three dogs. It doesn’t take them much time to cross the lake and they say a quick halloo as they pass us on the portage, likely headed back home. After a few gulps of tea, we head back the way we came, eventually reaching our camp. We’re ready for dinner as our appetites have kicked in.
Moose gravy, mashed potatoes and green beans is set on the stove. We spend the evening in good company. I love witnessing the strengths of each person and watching confidence unfold. Their faces are a glow of pink, partially from the cold, but also from the joy they feel. As they talk I up pack a few things in preparation for our departure tomorrow. Tomorrows lunch of chickpea salad is ready to go. Dishes are washed and the stove is stoked again for the night.
I tuck into bed and end up with another sleepless night. Oh well, it happens. It feels so good to lay flat. I listen to the continued chatter and laughter coming from the soft glow of the tent and smile. Eventually, all falls quiet and a gentle breeze brushes the pines overhead.
The following morning we wake to a few flakes falling again, we can hear the breeze over the lake, but it dies down a bit some before we leave. We shovel in mouthfuls of oats with berries, nuts and maple syrup. The packing commences. I start packing up the kitchen kit and other group gear. The women pack their personal gear and beds. I set up the sleds while another starts to loosen guy lines on the tent. We let the fire go out and remove the stove so that we can dump the ashes in the woods. Everyone pitches in to slip the tent off of its frame in order to avoid an ever expanding mud puddle. All bags and bins are packed neatly into each sled and zipped into a giant bag. Everyone works like a well oiled machine. We check around camp one last time to make sure we’re leaving it clean and bring the sleds down to the lake.
Our small group heads southeast, back towards the way we came, most wishing we could stay out longer. The sun is attempting to push through the clouds. We stop every half hour for snack, drink or to drop a layer. The path feels good and our bodies feel trail hardened. We follow along a few of the beautiful islands so iconic to this region. No animals stir as the wind swept snow skims across the more open areas of the lakes. A couple of hours later we make it back to the trailhead parking lot, just as the outfitter pulls up.
The conversation is wonderfully familiar as all adventures at their end. How was the trip? What were the conditions like? Did you run into slush? Did you see any animals? How was the food? Trail news and updates continue as we make our way back to Ely.
It seems to me that groups who spend days together without distractions bond very quickly. Much more so than in regular life. You learn more about a person in just a few days than you might in a year. We exchange contact info because hey, we’re all friends, and take a last group photo. Each one will follow their own road home, but this brief weekend in the wilderness will always be ours, theirs, mine. What a precious thing to hold in our hearts forever.
Our band of happy campers ready to explore the wild. I’m on the far right.
RESOURCES
Google map of our route along with the route to Manomin Lake for our day trip.
Great Ely outfitter for guided trips, specializing in women-specific adventures. Full disclosure, this is the outfitter I guide for.
Black river sleds make great toboggans of all lengths.
My recommendation for backcountry skis for winter camping. They fit most winter boots.
Want to plan your own winter camping trip? Check out our handy guide that tells you how to begin. You will need to grab a permit at one of the entry point, trailhead kiosks.
Plan on fishing? Pick up a fishing license through the MN DNR.
Disclaimer: I do not receive any compensation from the resources mentioned. If you want to go on your own winter camping trip, it’s up to you to plan and prepare for all the conditions you may encounter. Honestly assess your experiences, fitness and skill set. The BWCA is remote wilderness area and help may be hours or a day away. Conditions change frequently. Check with local outfitters and ranger stations for current updates.
