Today’s word: FORTITUDE. There’s really a lot of physical and mental challenge involved most days on this journey. I’m realizing I’ve completed over 300 miles, with only another ~1,800 to go 😳. Today’s journey was a lot of fun, but I’m recognizing there’s still much more fun to be had in the ~50 days ahead. I do need to figure out how to buy more space on WordPress as I’ve used 70% of my capacity and I’m only 20% through; hopefully I’ll figure that out so you followers can stay with me.

The day started at Crow Wing state park with GREAT regularity. Chad and I felt badly about the ecological abuse we left at the park; this was an act more deserving for Brainerd. Sorry Crow Wing, but that 3,000 calories from yesterday has to go somewhere. (3,000 is my rough count based on typical diet; I’ll try to get better accuracy in the coming days.)

When we trudged our bags down to reload the boats, we came across a rock that someone had left; it was brightly painted with the words “Be kind whenever possible. It is possible.” What a great sentiment; my thoughts exactly. I’d like to take that rock to the Hwy 6 pirate, whack him in the head with it and get our bags back!

We tried a little fishing after we cast off this morning. After buying all of the bulk supplies to make our own fish batter, we desperately wanted to catch our own dinner. We were entering an area that we heard was good for fishing, but that also meant it was full of weeds. We likely didn’t have this right equipment: every cast came back with a seaweed salad. I know I should get some more fruits and vegetables in my diet, but not like this. As I was about to complain to Chad and give up, something big grabbed my lure and ran; instantly the reel came loose from the rod and I fumbled trying to land a fish with just the reel in my hands; it didn’t work. But now I have the fish story of the 8’ sturgeon that got away! Interestingly, on one of my first nights out with David, there was a Mark Twain quote on our freeze dried dinners that read: “Do not tell fish stories where the people know you; but particularly, don’t tell them where they know the fish.” I’m still not sure I understand this quote, though it seems to fit here. Maybe that sturgeon was only 6’ long.

Chad and I had a 28 mile paddle-peddle today; we spent much of it side by side in casual, usually not very serious conversations. We talked about our freeze dried dinners, and why they have such little flavor. We believe that the dinner itself is just a byproduct of artificial flavor makers. Sort of like donut holes: the flavor makers found a way to package and market their leftovers after having extracted all the flavors. That explains why the undercarriage stroganoff does not taste like squirrel private parts.

We also discovered that Chad and I have many similarities, but also appreciable differences. Chad prefers the dead center of a PBJ sandwich, where all of the filling settles into a pool. Whereas I prefer the muffin top section where the bread is chewiest. To each his own, though Chad is certainly wrong on this, like on many other differences of opinion.

A deliberation we’ve come to on several occasions: why do our boats weigh the same in the mornings, but mine is demonstrably heavier by the end of the day. This isn’t just me complaining, Chad agrees and is probably more adamant about this fact. We’ve proven it’s not taking on water, and we haven’t a theory on the blue plastic having an afternoon gravitational pull increase that would be different from yellow plastic. Chad then had the most interesting theory: The model of the kayaks is the Hobie Mirage Oasis. So, like Chad having the illusion of a large head, these kayaks don’t actually exist; they are an illusion and we’re really just sitting on water with a paddle. Somehow my kayak always starts the day as light as Chad’s, but it’s 100 pounds heavier by the end of the day. Maybe my belief that there’s actually a kayak there is not as strong as Chad’s?

Also strangely, I’ve had moisture in my discharge port constantly for the past two days, while Chad’s posterior has stayed dry. I seem to get a lot more water sloshing in when I have to remove the engine in shallow waters. The first 4-5 days with David were spent wet from the waist down all day. That led to lesson #1: have dry set of bottom half clothing ready to change to quickly after making camp. But I’ve been dry for days until recently. It adds an additional mental strain if you start thinking about your wrinkled toes and soggy bottom too much.

We faced another dam portage at Little Falls today. It was advertised as 325 yards, but felt more like a half mile. We’re pretty efficient on the portages as we can quickly unload the tops of the kayaks, then one of us lifts the back end while the other sets the wheels in place, then we load up our gear and start hiking. We have the longest and most challenging portage tomorrow, so it’s good we’ve had some less daunting opportunities to prepare.

We arrived at the Charles Lindbergh state park at 8pm – about 12 hours after getting on the water at Crow Wing. We were happy to be at our home for the day, though we discovered it was about a mile hike to our campsite. We locked the kayaks together, then having learned our valuable lesson, loaded up all of our bags and schlepped up the home stretch. The site was not exceptional in any way: it was small, crowded amongst other sites, and across from the bathrooms. But, the campground was not fully occupied and it was quiet. We boiled water and had freeze dried chili-mac in the dark and immediately went to bed.

It was the coldest night we’ve seen; screen shot below shows 45 as we broke down camp in the morning; the overnight low was 42. For the first time I broke out the long underwear and slept well and warm in the tent under the rainfly.

Maybe an obvious selection today for those that know it. I’m happy to have another Coen brothers film reference here for today’s song: The Soggy Bottom Boys sing Man of Constant Sorrow; I know my uncle Lou likes this one.