Quick View Itinerary

Distance: ~50 miles canoeing and portaging

Time: 5 days, 5 nights minimum

Difficulty: Moderate (3/5)

Note: In the BWCA you can conform your itinerary to the amount of time that you have on your permit. Below is the timeline we made the journey in, but you could easily spend more or less time on any of these lakes.

Day 1: Entry, Sawbill Lake

Day 2: Sawbill Lake to Cherokee Lake

Day 3: Cherokee Lake to South Temperance Lake

Day 4: South Temperance Lake to Kelly Lake

Day 5: Kelly Lake to Sawbill Lake; The End of the Journey

Good to Know

Permits are required to venture in the Boundary Waters from May 1 - September 30th. You can browse and purchase permits at the National Forest Service’s website here: https://www.recreation.gov/permits/233396
BWCA Trip Planning Guide: https://www.fs.usda.gov/Internet/FSE_DOCUMENTS/fseprd611535.pdf
It can be tempting to load up on more gear than you need because you have a canoe to transport it in. Don’t do it! Keep it down to one bag, just like you would as if you were backpacking.
Weather can be unpredictable in BWCA. Pack clothing for all scenarios.
Wear your lifejacket even if you don’t think you need to! Early in the season the water can be extremely cold and can zap the energy from even strong swimmers.
There are many outfitters in the area that you can rent canoes from. This is recommended if you can swing it, as the kevlar canoes are a joy to carry compared to fiberglass or aluminum canoes.

We pushed off the dock with a smooth movement, settling into our home for the next week. The bow of the boat moved effortlessly through the smooth water, creating ripples and a wake that followed us as if the boat was writing it’s memories into the lake’s surface.

Our party of four would be spending the next five to six days in the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness (BWCAW). Pristine lakes, lush forests, and phenomenal fishing awaited us. Cell phones were powered off and ties with the outside world were severed as we acclimated to the woods. We would be completing the Cherokee Loop - a popular but beautiful trip through several premier lakes in the BWCAW. We had budgeted six days but knew we could complete it in five if we so chose. Each day would bring us new lakes, new trees; each night we would spend at a new campsite.

Each of us was equipped with a backpack and a fishing rod. On a previous BWCA expedition we overloaded ourselves with excess food and other un-needed supplies - because of this we stalled near the beginning of our ambitious route and wound up base camping the entire time. It was still a wonderful trip, but this time we were focused on covering more ground. To do this we needed to be light and mobile. For any interested in a reference point, below is a basic recap of the gear we carried personally and as a group (scroll within window for additional items):

The morning had started in Minneapolis, Minnesota at sunrise. Our initial destination was Sawbill Outfitters; we were heading there to pick up a rental canoe to pair with our own personal canoe. We had snagged a new kevlar Wenonah 17, which was infinitely lighter than our old 1984 fiberglass Wenonah Champlain. The plan was to trade off boats throughout the trip, but carrying the old, heavy canoe became a source of pride for my canoe partner and I and we refused to give it up after the first day.

You have to pick your canoe partner carefully. This can’t be overstated. Talk with them - no, a better term is interview them - beforehand. Make sure you’re on the same page with your role in the canoe. Some people like to control from the back or prefer to be the muscle in front. Others are indifferent. Either way, these types of things are critical to sort out prior to setting off. Choose someone who you won’t get sick of spending time with, but will keep you entertained. A good canoe partner makes a good canoe team, and a good canoe team can change the dynamics of a paddling trip. As you can see, my canoeing personality has already shown as I write these sentences.

In addition to completing the Cherokee Loop I also had another, more personal mission. On that previous trip I failed to catch a single fish over the course of a week in the BWCA. This trip would be different. I imagined the rod in my hands, the resistance of the fish, the feeling of achievement when I finally pulled it on to shore. This trip I would catch a fish.

Day 1 - Sawbill Lake

Once we had our gear sorted we splashed in. We hit the water around 1:00 pm, accompanied by clear skies and temperatures topping 80°F. Our first day we didn’t have any portaging planned. We wanted to spend the start of our journey relaxing in the peace of the Northwoods. We paddled around the lake for about 45 minutes, checking out different campsites and enjoying the realization that we had escaped our technological tethers for the week. Eventually we found a nice site about 3/4 of the way up the lake on a small peninsula. We set up camp, then immediately cast our rods into the water. After only a few minutes of casting and reeling I spotted a big Northern Pike following my lure. This was it. I was not only going to snag my fish, but I would catch the first fish of the trip. Slowly I continued to reel, the fish leaped at my lure..and completely missed it. I was crestfallen, but encouraged by the fact that I had come so close, so soon. We continued to fish for a bit, then setoff to explore more of the lake. Making our way around the body of water, we chose a small group of islands for our first fishing excursion. As we glided between two islands I cast my line into the water and almost immediately a huge Northern leapt completely out of the water for the lure, missing by inches. Encouraged, I continued to cast and reel, cast and reel. A small island became our base of operations for the afternoon.

As I was reeling in I felt a tug, another tug…and then a full on pull on the rod. Fish on! I reeled like a madman, intent on getting a damn fish onto shore. He started to come closer, closer, and I could see him in the shallows. It was a huge Northern, bigger than one I had seen yet. He was mine! I kept reeling, reeling…then suddenly the tension released from my rod, and the fish was gone. I was devastated, but still encouraged by my three close calls. Cole managed to pull in a nice Smallmouth Bass that we would have for dinner. Our thoughts turned to food, we headed back to camp to satiate our hunger.

While we ate dinner the sun began to go down and we were treated to a cotton candy sunset. Sitting back with our bellies full we appreciated the fact that we were here in this place, at this time. In life we often compare ourselves to others using questionable measurements - how much money we make, what kind of car we drive, or the size of our houses. If we used more practical things like the amount of time we get to spend with family and friends, how many amazing sunsets we have seen, or the best things we have done for other people, our time together could be so much more simple and meaningful.

The rest of the night was spent relaxing, talking, and of course fishing. Cole pulled in three Walleye, Andy one Walleye, and Grant a Walleye and a Pike. I went fishless. I was disappointed but still encouraged that we had a whole week for me to bring in a fish. The night overtook Sawbill Lake and we climbed into our hammocks and tent, excited for the day of adventure ahead.

Day 2 - Sawbill Lake to Cherokee Lake

As soon as the sun was up so were we. Breakfast was made, camp was broken down, and our canoes were loaded up. This was a process that we would become extremely efficient at in the next few days. The day greeted us with clear skies and warm temperatures. We couldn’t have asked for better weather.

Four portages of 80, 80, 110, and 180 rods faced us. A rod is a unit of measurement equal to about 16 1/2 feet. With our muscles fresh and our canoes full we set out to tackle our first portage. The majority of our portages went well except for the final portage from Skoop Lake. Ada Creek, the small stream that connected the two lakes, was marshy and muddy. The canoes were too heavy to carry traditionally - we were sinking into the mud - so we had to drop them in the creek that ran parallel to the trail, tie them up with ropes, and pull them along as we went. Mud sucked at our feet and our legs, threatening to pull off shoes and trap us in the muck. Several times we sank knee deep and even hip deep into thick brown ooze. Perseverance paid off, however, and we were finally rewarded with the end of our portaging, reaching Cherokee Lake. After the mud gauntlet we felt we were ready for anything the future portages might throw at us.

Paddling down Cherokee Lake was like a dream; emerging onto Cherokee lake was one of the best moments of my life. Rolling hills lined the lake and several prominent peaks emerged in the Northwest. For several minutes our two boats just drifted, taking in the beauty of the world around us.

Eventually we made our way to a pristine campsite on the Western side of a small island. A gigantic rock protruded out onto the lake and provided a wonderful sunbathing and fishing spot. We spent the rest of the day swimming, boating, fishing, swimming, and relaxing. We did not catch any fish, which raised my hopes for keeping up with the others.

In the middle of this beauty and serenity we couldn’t escape a scourge that seems to follow humanity wherever we go. Some careless campers had left behind a gigantic plastic tote and a 30 gallon trash bag full of their garbage. The bag had been ripped open and trash was strewn all over the area near the latrine. We lamented the trash; unfortunately it was much too large for us to bring with us on the rest of our trip. Wherever man goes, it seems he must make his mark to let others know he was there.

Day 3 - Cherokee Lake to South Temperance Lake

Again we woke with the sun and again the skies reigned clear and blue above us. We praised our good luck with the weather and set about cooking breakfast and breaking down camp. With our bellies full and our canoes loaded we took off with South Temperance Lake as our objective for the day. Before reaching South Temperance we needed to portage to and paddle through North Temperance Lake; we knew the first portage to North Temperance would be the most challenging of the trip. Our jokes about not making it proved to be unwarranted, but the portage was anything but easy. It was rocky as all hell and on ground that was anything but flat. However, we survived it, and arrived at Sitka Lake for a short paddle to our next portage of 105 rods. After the 165 rod portage this was a cakewalk, and led us onto North Temperance Lake.

North Temperance was defined by steep cliffs that lined the shoreline on all sides. It was like paddling through a canal. We quickly reached the portage on the other side of the lake. In no time we were past the 50 rod portage and paddling down South Temperance Lake. We explored the lay of the land and set up our camp on the North side of the lake. Once again we were incredibly fortunate, choosing a site with an exposed rock and perfect spots for our tent and hammocks. We set up camp and immediately moved to a rocky island for some fishing. Andrew caught a nice small mouth bass that added much needed flavor and protein to our freeze dried camping meals. After dinner we headed back to the island to try our luck. We did not catch anything more that night, but it was a beautiful night and we were content just watching the sunset. These are the moments that fill your soul. Relaxing with your line in the water, the sun burning the sky a beautiful orange, whisky warming your belly, and of course good friends by your side. I continue to think about what society considers to stand for wealth and success, and I still cannot understand why the things that are obtained for free are not valued more highly by all.

Day 4 - South Temperance Lake to Kelly Lake

We awoke to a chilly, windy morning that forced us to throw on our coats for the first time that week. After three days of sunshine and 80 degree weather this change was welcome; it also signaled rain in the forecast. With our eyes to the sky we went through our morning routine and put our paddles to the water. Our first portage from South Temperance to a small, unnamed lake was a daunting 240 rods, but by this time we had portaging down to a science. We crushed it in no time. Hitting the water once again we meandered through a gorgeous, no-name little lake, tackling our next 80 rod portage to Weird Lake. After zooming through Weird Lake and another short 13 rod portage we stopped to take a break, enjoy the scenery, and of course climb on some rocks. Every trip I take with my good friend Andrew contains this exact string of events:

Daniel sees big rock. Daniel rushes to climb big rock. Andrew sits at bottom sweating telling Daniel he’s an idiot and he’s going to hurt himself. What’s going to happen if you get hurt, he says? We’re in the middle of nowhere. Of course he’s right. He’s right every time. Climbing this rock is idiotic. But something in my cognitive program tells me to climb rocks. If you can, jump off of the highest point of the rock into the water. It makes no sense, it’s foolhardy, it’s irresponsible. But we’re on an adventure, and adventure calls for foolhardy, irresponsible actions sometimes.

So, needless to say, I climbed up the biggest rock in the stream and jumped off the highest point into the stream. Andrew shook his head at me but humored my request to take a picture of me on the rock. With this ritual out of the way, we continued on our prescribed trip.

Exiting the portage, we emerged on Jack Lake. Jack Lake is long and skinny, and the aforementioned wind had picked up throughout the day, blowing directly down the natural wind tunnel created by the lake. We strained across several miles of lake to our next portage. We finally reached it, and 65 rods later our last portage of the day was done. We had reached Kelly Lake. Kelly Lake is also long and skinny, and we continued to work against the wind. After what seemed like an eternity of paddling into the wind we found the campsite we had identified earlier - right on a peninsula with shoreline access all around. Prime fishing area. We took a dip in the water, relaxed after our battle with the wind, and setup camp. Once this was done our internal clocks went off, and we reached for our fishing rods.

At the start we had no luck. Some of our time was spent in the area around our campsite, but we had made a move down the lake and were fishing with our feet in the water at a spot where we were sure there had to be bass. Since our big first day at Sawbill we had only caught one fish. Needless to say at that point spirits were low in the fishing department. However, just when we needed it most, we got a huge morale boost. We heard Cole shout, and before long he was pulling a monster Smallmouth Bass onto shore. We took a measurement (18.5 inches) took a photo, and celebrated. Without further ado Andrew casted into the same spot and pulled in another nice small mouth. Knowing we were in the hotspot we locked in and continued casting. Cole pulled in another Smallmouth Bass, and Andrew caught a beautiful pumpkin seed fish along with a rock bass. Dinner time rolled around and we headed back to camp and cooked up the best fish fry we had experienced yet. It was a wonderful reward to a hard day’s work.

About halfway through dinner the wind started to pickup and we heard a rumbling in the distance; it was like somebody several miles above us was rolling a ball on the roof of the clouds. Thunder. It became evident that a large storm was headed our way. With no radar and no cell signal we had no way of knowing how large or severe of a storm, so we began to prep for the worst. Everything was stowed away and wrapped in waterproof layers. We placed all of our bags underneath Cole’s large rainfly and huddled together, expecting the worst.

When in the BWCA during a storm your biggest threat is from trees being uprooted and falling on you. You also need to be careful of trees being pulled out of the ground and tossed through the air like toothpicks.

What had seemed like a severe storm from a distance turned out to be nothing more than a mild storm. There was some rain, thunder, lightning, but nothing too bad. The next day would be our final day in the BWCA and we still had some whisky rations leftover, so we spent our night lounging under the rainfly and warming our bellies with the last of our drink. More rain continued to come in but we were confident we were prepared for anything severe. After a long day of paddling, portaging, and fishing, our beds were calling our names.

Day 5 - Kelly Lake to Sawbill Lake; The End of the Journey

Following our stormy night we woke up to no rain, which was a great feeling. Alas, it was not to last. After getting breakfast going and drinking our coffee the sound of thunder rumbled in the distance. Again we took shelter under the tarp that we spent so much time under the previous night. Before too long the thunder faded and the rain lightened up. We used this time to pack up and ship out. By the time we got going, however, the rain had picked up again and we were thoroughly soaked. We covered portages of 230 rods to burnt Lake, 60 rods to Flame Lake, 90 rods to Smoke Lake, and a final 100 rods to Sawbill lake. The rain made the portages brutal.

Up to this point I still had not accomplished my goal of catching a fish. We had some time to kill so we stopped on an island on Sawbill Lake for one last ditch attempt at getting me a catch. That didn’t work; crestfallen but ready to go home we decided to throw in the towel.

I had one last trick up my sleeve - I was going to drop my line in the water and troll on the way into the Sawbill dock. I didn’t have much hope of this succeeding, but just as the dock came into sight I felt a tension on my line. Quickly we turned the boat to stop the line from running and all of a sudden…the fist was gone. I looked at my rod and the fishing line had completely run out. At that moment I knew that I just wasn’t meant to catch a fish on this trip.

Despite my fishless expedition this was still one of the most wonderful weeks of my life. Our time was spent relaxing in a pristine wilderness area while also testing the limits of our endurance and strength through portaging and paddling. At the end of the week our muscles were firm and sinewy and our minds were recharged and rested.