Anyway, Chris and I have had a crazy couple of weeks leading into what will certainly be a crazy summer. We are moving in August down to Mankato (technically we must move before August 1 because our lease is up then and we don't want to pay double rent). We'll nest in the cities a couple of weeks before he starts grad school down there and savor being with family and friends. It is VERY hard for me to think about moving even though it's only an hour and a half away. It seems like the other side of the world! I'm going to dearly miss Minneapolis and all it's inhabitants. I'm going to really miss living with the girls downstairs in our little "community house". I'm going to be missing Seward Church, Jesus Kitchen, Salvage Yard Church, House of Hope, all the community tied to potluck at the Greenhouse, the Greenway, Seward Co-op, the Mississippi River, everything!
Well, I did promise a story so here it is:
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We went to the BWCA (Boundary Waters Canoe Area) with our friends Tony and Bea (a couple) and Lydia and Joi. We went there about two weeks ago now and stayed there for 4 days, 2 of which were full days not traveling. If you know anything about the Boundary Waters you know it is entered by a huge lake and you canoe around a series of lakes and streams to get to different camping spots, etc. Anyhow, we came in on a very calm day so although the lake (Burntside Lake) was huge it was relatively easy to canoe in. The first portage was killer but we did it! It was a 1.75 miles long. Woah. Anyway, coming in it did take a while to find a camping spot since the one we wanted was taken but at the end of the day we were golden and found a really nice one. While we were there we mostly hung out and did a little exploring. That was not so much the adventure part though.
On the way out of the BWCA we again had to pass over Burntside Lake to the access point. Now, Tony had a map but didn't realize that the point he saw on the map was not our access point. This is important because later this really screwed with us. We had paddled quite a bit already (going the wrong way on one lake for a while) and done a couple of portages. Most of us were sore and sun-burned from the previous days. The water was very choppy on Burntside Lake and there were some white-caps too. Chris and I took it in stride thinking we'd all be fine. However, about half-way across the lake Tony and Bea pulled over by an island (we were "island-hopping") and said they were going to call for a tow boat to come get them because they didn't want to go on. They were not in as good of shape phyiscally and their canoe was kevlar, a really light material, so this is understandable. Lydia and Joi agreed with Tony and Bea and seemed find with it. Chris, stubborn-hearted as can be said no, words were exchanged in frustration and we canoed on. Well, after a little bit of paddling over to the next island we decided to turn around and go back. We did and Tony and Chris apologized for blowing up at each other. We said we wanted to go on (and it was $20/person to get towed anyway) and they said okay, we'll meet you there. They gave us the map and some water which was good to have later.
So we went on as determined as ever and we were doing just fine. We came close to another island continuing the method of island hopping when Chris' canoe paddle split in two! It split simply from the force of wind and water! At this point I was pretty shocked and thought we should have gone with our friends which Chris agreed to as well. I could not think of what to do. Chris looked at the map and said that we should try portaging our gear to the other side of this island since we would be closer to the access point then (and maybe we could find a cabin with a phone, since we had left our phones in the car thinking we'd be with people with phones the whole time!). So, not knowing what else to do, we took all of gear and portaged an island that was not "portagable". We had to go through all the brush and woods because there was not a real trail and it was actually quite rocky and hilly in parts. Chris had a pack on front and back and carried the canoe (crazy strength behemoth man!), I took one pack and the paddles (now one in half), water, and life vests. It was nuts. I thought we were nuts which I guess we were because we had to be.
We portaged a while until we found a series of cabins that seemed to almost be like a resort. There was a sauna and a few yurts too. We put down our stuff then and tried to see if anyone was there. Nobody in sight. We took a minute to pray together, pretty overwhelmed. My thoughts now drifted to what it would be like to spend the night and if it would make sense to try to break in to one of the cabins. We asked God for wisdom.
After establishing that the cabins were unoccupied and realizing that going further was futile (it just got steeper and it didn't look like there was another cabin nearby), I told Chris we needed to get back to water. We went down to the lake again and put all of our heavy gear in the canoes. Then we drank a little water we had left trying to refresh ourselves. Chris took it upon himself to drink a little lake water although we weren't out of the filtered water yet. He also took a long, sturdy stick and said we could "pole around" the island if need be. I asked out loud if there was any way he could fix the paddle. He looked through his pack and found a rope and then proceeded to lash the paddle together. He lashed it beautifully and we were both amazed! It worked just as well as it had before; the only difference was that he now had to dig a little deeper. We thanked God for Royal Rangers (Chris' boy scout equivalent in the Assemblies of God) and wisdom as we went out again!
Now we had some real hope, a usable paddle.
As we paddled toward another island the waves seemed to not be so harsh and I could sing again. It was great. Even though we would be later then anticipated I knew we would make it back tonight. The only thing we needed now was to keep paddling toward the access point. Surprisingly, the paddling now seemed easier and I suggested we go straight across to the access side. We made it to the other side and all we needed was to be at the access point. Looking at our map, Chris thought it was to the right of us so we paddled that way near the shore line. We went by at least 10 cabins and yet no one was around. Chris was anxious to call our friends since it had been much longer now and they probably were worried about us. We thought if we saw someone we could use their phone and call them as well as get confirmation about the direction of the access point. Well, we went on and on and even stopped to see if someone was at a cabin where we saw some lawn chairs, but no dice. Finally, we saw a van parked in front of a cabin. We knew someone must be there! As we came closer to shore an older man came out and told him we were trying to find the access point. As we showed him our map and he said that the point we were looking at wasn't the one we needed. He told us we had gone a couple of miles in the wrong direction. What?! Naturally at this point we were exhausted and I asked if we could just refill our water since we were almost out. He had his 6-year old grandson go get us water. We used his phone to try to call our friends but when we tried to call other people who would have their number we couldn't get a hold of them. The man came back to us and kindly offered to drive us over to the access point in his van and we could leave our stuff here. I had no doubt in my mind of taking him up on that offer, "YES!" I said, "Let's do it." Of course, Chris heartily agreed.
As he drove us up the hill by his cabin I remarked how phenomenal it was that I didn't have to do anything. We had been going strong since 7:30 a.m. that morning and it was now almost 5 p.m. We were both extremely grateful to the man (who also kind of looked like Sean Connery, as Chris said later). He dropped us off at our car and we said we'd see him back at the cabin. On our car was a note under the windshield wiper left by our friends...it said something like this:
Chris and Kim,
We went to town. We like you. Don't get dead. If we don't hear from you by 5:30 we are coming to look for you.
Love,
Tony, Bea, Lydia and Joi
Tony's # 555-555-5555
Laughing, we drove back to the cabin where all our stuff was. The grandpa man was there with his grandson to greet us as they went out to swim. As we got all of our stuff together and Chris figured out how to tie the canoe on again I finally asked the man's name and found out it was Leo. He was very amiable, watching as Chris tied on the canoe and talking about knots. The most touching thing is that he went into the cabin and came back with a beer, a Surly Bender, and even though it was the last one he gave it to us because "the best thing after a trip like that is to have a beer." We didn't even drink the whole can since we're not really drinkers but I thought it was the sweetest thing ever. His grandson took our "pole" stick and thanked us for the walking stick. I could not have been more grateful or willing to part with a walking stick for such a little boy.
We drove back to Ely and found our friends. There was a big group hug, of course, and Joi hugged me and picked me up off the ground in that fantastic way she has of doing that. I ordered a grilled cheesed sandwich, BLT (for Chris), potato salad and brownies at a nearby restaurant and we loaded Lydia and Joi's gear into our car and got gassed up and ready to go. There is actually more to this story, but I'll summarize. As we drove home we genuinely enjoyed each other's company (all the more so I think because of the danger we'd overcome) and played games and read "The Fellowship of the Ring." It became terrifically stormy as we went on and there was so much rain at times that you couldn't see anything. Chris pulled over a couple of times and we prayed for safety. The rain subsided a little and we were only 20 minutes from home when the car stopped working completely. Chris pulled over to the side and after trying to figure out what was wrong with Joi looking over his shoulder under an umbrella, and pee breaks on the side of the road, we called AAA. They came and Chris' dad came to pick all of us up with our stuff and we got carried home by him, again, thankful for being alive! About 1 a.m. in the morning we were all safe and sound and dropped off to sleep. So, that is the end of that epic story on how God was faithful to help us get back from the BWCA. My grandparents told me to write it down and I am glad I did for my own future grandchildren.
