8 Days in Canoe Country
Written by M.i.A. | Photos by Forged from the Wild
Eight days. Six humans and a dog. One chain of remote northern lakes.
We set out into the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness — over a million acres of protected public lands, alive with loons, towering pines, and granite shorelines. A place so wild it feels untouchable, yet it’s under constant threat from proposed mining. This was our timeline of paddles, portages, and the moments that reminded us exactly what’s worth protecting.
Day 0 — The Launch Point
Heading toward the launch, our trucks rolled down a winding dirt road, a bright yellow canoe strapped to the roof and dust trailing behind. It was the first step into another world — one that would trade dirt roads for portages and signal bars for glassy water. That evening, we reached a small outfitter to pick up permits and stock up on last-minute provisions. We camped nearby, checking and rechecking gear, tightening straps, and staging the canoes for an early morning departure.
Day 1 — Trial by Rain
A calm morning launch quickly shifted when rain rolled in just hours later. Portages turned into slick, muddy climbs and soaked gear became the day’s challenge. By afternoon, we claimed a nearby campsite and called it a night. Wet gear and a tarp over our shelter, a smoky fire fought to stay lit, and hotdogs over the flames were our evening’s reward. At dusk, clouds of mosquitoes filled the air, their hum a constant backdrop.
Day 2 — Sun and Happy Hour
Clear skies returned, and we stayed put to dry out. Sleeping bags and jackets covered warm rocks, while the lake offered a welcome swim. Midday turned into a playful product shoot for a canned cocktail brand, with Lily — fresh off a break from her Appalachian Trail thru-hike — embracing full “vacation mode” in Crocs, floating on a sleeping pad-turned-floatie. Lunch became a camp-style charcuterie board — the start of our daily “Happy Hour” ritual to gather, share a drink, and plan the days ahead.
Day 3 — The Grind
We woke before the sun, preparing for a big day. Four portages and long paddles led us to a remote lake — the most physically demanding day of the trip. Aching muscles met small comforts: a cold swim followed by makeshift showers using a pot of water warmed over the fire. This was the day we started a running tally of leech encounters. Before tucking ourselves into our tents, we watched a beaver cross the lake in front of our campsite, hauling a branch in its teeth as the sunset turned the water gold.
~6 miles paddled | 569 rods portaged
Day 4 — The Island Find
We decided to turn the trip into a loop instead of the out-and-back we’d originally planned. Two paddlers went ahead with light loads to scout the next lake, while the rest of us packed camp. After several portages, the radio call came: an island campsite facing west, open and ready. As we pulled in, the late afternoon sun lit up the shoreline. Camp went up quickly - dehydrated meals for dinner, cinnamon apples over the fire for dessert — with the plan to stay for several nights.
Day 5 — Storm Lessons
The day started slow: coffee on the rock, Glen heading out to fish. The radio buzzed - he’d caught dinner. But the clouds built fast, the wind coming in hard. Glen found shore and waited it out, while back at camp, we scrambled to hold down tarps, fight tent leaks, and protect the camera gear as much as possible. The rain was relentless, the kind that forces you to wait in your tent, hungry and damp, for hours. When it broke, we ate like we’d been fasting. It was a day of working the camp life - cooking, hunting for the driest wood possible, and securing tents - a reminder that nature always gets the final say. Mother Nature rewarded us for our teamwork with Glen’s catch of the day: Lake Trout!
Day 6 — The Reward
The next day was all sunshine and stillness. On The Rock, our little island home, we spread our clothes and shoes across the warm stone until they were dry. We spent the day like lizards, stretched out in the sun, soaking up every bit of heat. Time drifted by in the best way — making friendship bracelets, lounging in hammocks, and snapping a few playful product shots. No rushing, no packing, just easy camp chatter and the kind of slow, simple moments that make you forget what day it is. Out here, it was our home away from home — our own little world.
Day 7 — Smoke and Showers
We broke camp early, facing four portages back toward Sawbill. One had been dammed by beavers, rerouting us through unexpected water. The plan was to camp on North Sawbill and paddle in the next morning, but the wildfire smoke coming down from Canada was thick, our crew was filthy, and the showers at Sawbill campground tipped the vote. We pushed through, landing at the dock and portaging one last time to our trucks in the parking lot.