The next morning we got off to an early start. The clouds from the night before had rolled in on us and provided a gray, slightly drizzly day. We ate our oatmeal, drank our coffee, packed up the camp and hit the water. We were not going all that far (only to Ensign Lake) but we wanted to get to out next site sooner rather than later.

We traveled north up Ima Lake and made the portage into Jordan Lake, a small, nondescript lake with a very interesting, very long and narrow, bay on the east side. The portage from Jordan Lake into Cuttyman Lake started off difficult (straight up hill it seemed) but quickly flattened out. Water levels were slightly higher where we were so Gopher and I were able (after seeing others attempt it) to toss the canoe in the water about half-way down the portage and run the rapids that spill out into Gibson Lake.

We made it into Ashigan Lade after a long, but very easy and pleasant 105-rod portage that seemed more like walking on a State Park trail than a wilderness portage. One last short portage after that and we hit Ensign Lake by noon, where we ate lunch on the portage and looked over the map, deciding on a campsite.

Ensign Lake did nothing to impress me. Every site we passed had people sitting in camp; stoking their fire, casting a line and generally just staying in camp, getting out of the drizzly rain that covered all of us. It was a very annoying day to travel and find a site. No matter where we looked (and we paddled to almost every site) we could not find one that was available.

We passed through the narrows that separates the east side of the lake from the west, still looking for a site. There was a long and narrow island a head of us that, on the map, offered us a possible four site, with five more sites to north and thee to south. With so many sites possible we split the island with Donnie and Matt taking the south side and Gopher and I on the north.

Site after site on the north side was taken, save one, that we were about to pull up to when I noticed something in the underbrush. At first I thought it was a dog but after a moment of realization it dawned on me that it was a Black Bear cub. I yelled to Gopher but he only caught a flash of fur before it dove back into the trees. We passed on that site.

Gopher and I rounded the island and saw that Donnie and Matt and come across a site that was free and had started unloading their canoe. Gopher and I pulled up and we immediately set up camp. Because of the rain we decided to hang a tarp as a shelter between our tents; just in case the rain came down harder than a drizzle.

I sat in camp doing nothing important as Donnie and Matt hit the water for more fishing and Gopher headed into places unknown in the forest behind our site. After an hour or so I heard a call from the woods. “Ryan!” it rang out. It was somewhat distant as I answered back, “Yeah?” “Where am I?” Gopher’s voice carried back. He had found a patch of blue berries and forgotten to scope his surroundings, thus ensuring his ability to find his way back. Some Eagle Scout, huh?

Matt and Donnie on the other hand had an interesting time themselves. While fishing they heard, completely clearly, two girls swimming in the lake, but out of view. Apparently the girls were having a good time farting and watching the bubbles rise to the surface. Proof that, even in the wilderness, blondes will find you!

We finish off the day by taking pictures of a Bald Eagle that perched in a dead tree just off of our campsite; cooking up a big diner and playing poker in Gophers tent. A dumb idea in hindsight seeing how gassy Matt, Gopher and I get in the BW, and when you add Donnie (the gas master himself) to that mix… watch out!