Lessons Through JOY!
Chapter 8 ~
Authored by Emy Minzel
On the 2nd trip to the BWCA, Stacy and I had been calling in adventure! Excited by how transformational last year was. We were thrilled to go back for more lessons. Craving excitement we spent a lot of time planning the next “Great Adventure into the Wilderness”.
This book is about lessons through joy; I can honestly say that this 2nd BWCA Adventure was not always joyful. I realize now that somewhere along the way. I had conditioned myself to believe the only way I learn a lesson was the “hard way”. Maybe this is why I was asking for hard games??? Silly girl.
This journey would help me rewire this programming… the hard way.
The second year we had packed a cooler with wheels. When we got to the outfitter, they told us wheels of any sort were not allowed in the BWCA.
He then said “It really won’t matter if you had wheels on that portage anyways. The trail is just too rough and uneven.”
Stacy and I looked at each other and asked, “how are we going to bring our food along?”
He said, “No problem, we have a pack for that.” Then disappeared into the back room. Coming back with a big army green soft sided backpack cooler. “If you want to keep it cold, I recommend you go across the street and get some dry ice too.”
That’s what we did. We came back with 6lbs of dry ice and proceeded to empty the contents of our roller cooler into the backpack cooler.
I had frozen water bottles because hot tea is sometimes not appetizing on a warm summer day. And lake water tastes like lake. I had chopped and packed a whole lot of veggies and a large container of watermelon, for hydration. 5lbs of potatoes, some orange juice, a box of wine and a whole lot of miscellaneous grocery items.
The people at the outfitters were kind of giving us the side eye. Looking at each other with their eyebrows up. Did they know we had no idea what we were getting ourselves into? Yes… yes, they did.
Yet we assured them. More than once mind you. That we knew it was going to several trips to portage, but we were ok with it. (Insert hindsight facepalm here!) They politely let us carry on emptying our cooler into the insulated portage pack. Then went up to the bunk house to rest up for our 5am departure.
In the bunk house we shared the main quarters with a group of men. We had our own bunkbed bedroom as did they. They were very polite upon introduction. We went to bed early and they left. A few hours later they came back to the bunkhouse tipsy. One of the men hopped on the bunk located on the other side of the wall we shared. CREEEEEEEEAAAAAK!!!! EEEK!!! EEEK!!! SQUEEEEEEEEEEAAAAK!!!
For the next 2 hours the bed creaked and squeaked each time he even blinked. He continued to perform the Olympic version of bunkbed fancy flip flop. A little-known bounce house boing and roll sleeping technique. A method reminiscent of a rotisserie chicken style performed with panache and sound effects flair.
I lay there praying for him to fall asleep or at the very least, stop moving every 2 minutes for the sake of my sanity. “Ugh… my dude… It’s 2:30am now and we gotta be up in 90 minutes. For the love of Pete…. pleeeeeease sleep.”
I was about to lose my cool then finally he got tired of performing. At last, he got up and crawled into a different bunkbed that was not nearly as obnoxious. I slept lightly doing my best to get at least a little bit of rest. When the alarm went off at 4:00am we showered and packed up. Stepping out into the cool predawn morning at 4:45am closing the door behind us. I hope they got more sleep than we did that night.
Time to go! We were so stoked about this Adventure that nothing was going to get us down. We waited for the shuttle van at 5am, tea in our thermoses and a black bean brownie muffin my mom had made in our bellies. Excitement filled the air as we chatted with our driver Lawrence. He was also a guide and helped with BWCA rescues. He had lots of stories to share, we listened intently learning more about this ruggedly beautiful yet sometimes dangerous wilderness.
We pulled into the entry point. There is nothing better than being dropped off at 5:30am when the sun is coming up and hopping right into the canoe and on the calm lake kissed by the morning mist. That was not going to happen this time. The trip was going to start with a portage.
The driver pulled up the parking lot and pulled our supplies out of the trailer. Pointing down a tall grass lined path he declared. “The first portage out to the water is that way.”
“O.K! Thanks!” We tipped him and waved as he hopped back into the van to leave.
This Adventure we had planned was to include 6 or 7 portages. When the outfitter drops you off in the middle of nowhere, really your only option is to GO!
By the time we got all our packs to the first water way, it had taken us 3 trips each. The 2 cots weighed 20 pounds apiece and the stuck out the opening on each side of one of the packs. We were able to team lift the food cooler pack on this trail while confirming this was going to be a long hard haul…
Still neither of us were discouraged. It was early morning, and we were bright eyed and roaring to go. We had planned on this hard work, claiming our comfort came first! We loaded up our freight into the canoe for the first time. Pushing it out to test float the balance it was nice and level. Though we were quite certain the canoe was at its weight capacity once we climbed in.
The first paddle to the second portage was very peaceful and picturesque. Reeds and wild grasses towered over our heads. The river way was very shallow; the water clean and clear enough to see little fish swimming all around. Occasionally a boulder barricade would imitate a speed bump and slow us down. We would have to hop out of the canoe standing on the giant rocks to carefully steer our cargo ship/canoe around them.
Just before the shallow river way opened to the lake. We came to a beaver dam. As we were crossing over it, I was standing on top, guiding the canoe and hurdling the strong structure.
Crossing my fingers and sending prayers that my foot wouldn’t fall through into to the beaver’s living room. The story my imagination made up was. After my foot poked through it roof. The upset beaver would then of course promptly chew my leg off, for breaking and entering!
Anyone else have a fun imagination too? Stacy giggled at the story I told while navigating over the sturdy den.
What a cool experience! This was already an adventure and we’ve only just begun!
The next leg of the journey was a peaceful 1-mile paddle on a long narrow lake. Intuitively paddling slowly to enjoy a beautiful sunrise service. There was mist at the edge of where the water meets the forest. The surface of the lake reflected diamond like sparkles courtesy of the orange sun guiding in a new day.
I tell people. “It’s where God lives.” Because this is where I can feel spirit the most.
That morning felt as if ‘God’s country’ had a choir and was singing us a personalized sermon. We paddled silently absorbing this moment. It felt as if Creation herself showed up just to say. “Hello ladies! Welcome home.” I felt my soul let out an audible exhale of relief to finally be back.
As we paddled on until we came another new experience. There were boulders under the canoe, and they were humongous! We would have to be very careful navigating slowly through them. At times having to both get out of the canoe. Stand on the boulders and push the canoe over or in between to pass.
My intuition told me the boulders were alive with sentience. The oldest beings of creation. I can’t help but believe that these Ancient Stone Spirits supported us on our journey.
At last, the water ran shallow, and we were at the 3rd portage. On the map it looks tiny, less than a quarter mile, totally no big deal. Trails on these maps are quiet deceiving. This was an obstacle course with steep inclines and even more steep drops going back down. The shoreline was made of extra-large jagged edged stones that shifted when you stepped on them. We had to navigate at this portage carefully so as not to twist an ankle. We could have easily gotten hurt trekking through this wobble stone agility test.
We set to work bracing for another 3 portages each carrying something big and heavy. Stacy seemed to like to carry the canoe first. We concluded after the previous portage she couldn’t carry the canoe while I carried the food. Because the food pack was so heavy I needed assistance. When possible, to walk side by side, we would carry it together. That was a rare occasion this year.
Luckily for us the Gods up above were offering a little help. Just ahead there were a group of men coming back toward us going the opposite direction.
Deciding we better survey the situation before tackling the heavy baggage. We portaged the ‘lightest’ packs weighing no less than 50lbs and our oars. We hiked until we found water. The men we ran into had light gear like most do. Some of them made navigating this jagged optical course of impending broken bones look like it was a cake walk.
The oldest of the men sounded as if he had a southern accent and surveyed us quickly. “How are you ladies doing today?!”
“We are great and yourself?” I offered with a smile.
“Do you mind if we grab something and help you?” He replied. Without waiting for an answer, he hollered. “Fellas! You guys run up a head and grab their thangs, help these lovely ladies out!”
Before we knew it, he had grabbed the canoe. The other hikers grabbed the rest of our comforts and “necessities”. Setting our packs on the wiggling rocks. Just far enough away from the canoe in the lake so they wouldn’t get wet.
Looking back, I wonder if they thought there was a dead body in that cooler pack. It was crazy heavy. We thanked them all profusely for their chivalry as they left us in their dust.
Already starting to get hungry and fatigued muscles. We celebrated our luck by being very grateful. Carrying each bag together trying not to trip the other or get hurt on the slanted, shuffling razor-edged rocks. Carefully we got the canoe loaded and shoved off to the next portion of the journey. Which seemed to come up in to time at all. Just a few minutes later we got to the 4th portage.
It was going to be the longest portage of the trip. I tried not to complain. After all, Stacy was carrying the canoe and heavy packs too! Neither of us was slacking in the portaging department. But when we pulled up and saw a staircase of rocks going 40 feet up at a steep angle. I tried to fend off a mild panic attack.
My inner child wanted to stomp and throw a fit. “I don’t wanna and you can’t make me.”
We decided this would be a good time to take a break resting and eating more breakfast muffins. We needed to refuel and rehydrate. It was now late morning, and the day was warming up. After our “2nd breakfast” we weren’t going to dilly dally we had places to go. Fairy Lake was waiting for us!
We put the lightest portage packs on and headed up the stone staircase to investigate the long portage. Follow the winding narrow path upwards. “I’m already beginning to feel the burn.” I commented.
Stacy was just ahead of me and was starting to feel some fatigue too. “Mind over matter, we can do this, we ARE doing this.” She said over her shoulder.
“Right!” I said.
This path was paved with haphazard stones jutting out at random. Seemingly at just the right spacing so that you couldn’t keep a steady pace. I had to be fully present. Observing where to put each foot next so I didn’t trip. Adding to the atmosphere there was a steep drop off descending down the mountain we were climbing. Only a foot or so off the path.
Keeping my gaze down and my focus on my red water sandals. I tried to take brief looks at the geographical beauty around us. We didn’t talk much because we had to focus. This trail seemed to keep going up, then we would have to go down to go back up again. Even with our lightest packs this portage was long and hard as hell!
Just when you think the end of the lane is just ahead. Low and behold it is only an illusion my friend. We had to keep going. Up and down. Then up and down some more. Dodging low hanging branches snagged our full-size fishing pole lines that stuck out of one of the packs. We had large cots sticking out each side one portage pack. We came to a narrow corridor stone mountain face on each side. Cots bashing into the stone back and forth with each step as we made our way through. I laugh out loud at this memory. (Insert yet another facepalm moment!)
About 30 minutes later we see water! “Yay! We made it!” Stacy celebrated our achievement as we set our first load down. We gave each other a high five and turned around empty handed to grab another load of baggage.
This time we took in the scenery a little more, unencumbered by the weight of our necessities. I really enjoyed the jaunts back, although we still had to be diligent and very careful with our footing. This trail was tricky, and at times very scary.
Ugh… Here we were at the beginning already. Our pile of stuff still looking extremely heavy. When we started that morning Stacy estimated that the cooler pack weighed at least 100lbs!
It took two of us to lift it onto a tall rock. When it was elevated enough, I could crouch down to slip my arms into the straps. Slowly I stood lifting its weight my back, buckling the waist strap around my middle for more support. I had to walk slowly and bent over while carrying it. It never even crossed our minds when packing that one person would have to carry this load. We were the Queens of teamwork.
I am 5 feet nothin’ and at this exact time in my life, I was not “in shape”. I was carrying well over half my body weight on my back. At least the cooler never complained when I fell over or had to drop it. Saying a prayer to Mercury the God of transportation for swift movements. Maybe Pan the Goat God of the forest would bless me with graceful footing. Praying for help as I ascended the staircase again.
“Goodness sakes! Stace, I’m going to need some help.” I exclaimed, trying not to panic.
We had only just begun, and I was falling backward, forwards and sideways from the burdensome weight on my back. I thought my legs were burning before! Ha!
I felt clumsy trying to gain control of this unyielding bulk on my body. Many, many times Stacy had to push up on the pack from behind, so I made it up the pathway. If she would accidentally help too much, I would easily fall over in random direction.
“What have we gotten ourselves into?!” I asked, only a short way into the trek. “Would you like me to try to carry it?” Stacy offered.
I tried to reassure us both. “No, I got it.” I said. While simultaneously falling over and almost down the side of the mountain. This was a scary moment for both of us!
Reacting quickly and saving me from what would surely be a painful steep tumble. Stacy grabbed the pack with all her strength, pulling me back to the safety of the trail.
Muscle fatigue had set in challenging my whole body, my legs wanted to give out. I truly had not been physically nor mentally prepared for what we were doing.
I was embarrassed about falling and then I got mad. I thought to myself. “You can and you will do this.” And with a little help from my friend, I did. My thoughts changed from being annoyed, that I had to watch my footing so intently. To considering it was a blessing. For it gave me something to think of besides this beastly burden on my back.
Many thoughts ran through my head, as we journeyed up, up, up, down, up, down. Sometimes falling up the boulders I was trying to climb. This trail experience happened to me for a reason. I contemplated why as we hiked in silence.
Clearly the Universe was telling me to keep focus on what was right in front of me. If you look too far ahead, I get distracted, look too far ahead, I will lose focus, fall off the path. It sounded right at the time. As I was concerned about having to restart my business after moving to another city just a few months before.
This was not the complete life lesson taught by Billy goat Portage. But learning to keep my focus and continue putting one foot in front of the other; has been a repeat lesson over the years.
At last reached the end of Billy Goat Trail. Whew! Finding a taller boulder, I sat it down and unbuckled the cooler pack with a sign of relief. I felt 100 pounds lighter. After a short pause for a water break, we headed back for our last portage pack and the canoe. I was afraid if I sat down, I wouldn’t get back up to continue on.
“Let’s DO this!” I said as we headed UP the path for the final fourth lap. This time it felt much easier than the first two trips.
I never in my life have done something as adventurous, that dangerous, or that physically challenging. Pushing myself to the point of exhaustion, muscles shaking with fatigue… I had very much proven to myself what I was capable of. I was far from the pillar of health at this time. Billy Goat Portage was the initiation I needed. It led to the desire to reclaim my health. It showed me how capable I truly was.
After this death-defying feat, we still had another 4-mile paddle to get to our next destination. We paddled those 4 miles taking our sweet time, staying close to shore on the large lake. We finally reached the cove in which our next portage was supposed to be. We paddled back and forth for almost an hour, even shoring up the canoe to climb a hill in search of this mysterious missing portage. Which we couldn’t find the entry point for the life of us!
After a while we concluded we were both too fatigued to go on anyways. It would be best to find a place to camp before we both expired from exhaustion. We found an open campsite almost immediately. It was the large “5 star” rated campsite the Guide at the outfitter told us about last night. We had dismissed his suggestion because we had plans to keep going. Was that coincidence? I think not.
As soon as we saw the campsite a wave of relief flooded my nervous system. We were so very sore from that journey and needed to be done for the day. Our bodies needed nourishment and nurturing. After eating we decided to soak our aching muscles in the lake to cool them down. The lake was cold, but I have no doubt in mind that if we were to opt out of some cold-water hydrotherapy; I would not have been able to move for the whole entire week.
In the end we got the adventure we were calling in that year! Although it didn’t come in a way we expected it. The definition of adventure says there must be elements of danger in the experience to be called an ‘adventure’.
I’d say hurdling a beaver dam and navigating an obstacle course made of razor-sharp shifting rocks. Experiencing Billy goat portage 4 times and almost falling down a mountain side wearing a 100-pound backpack. Then waking up in the middle of the night soaking wet in a flooded tent and on the brink of hypothermia would qualify for danger. Don’t you?
Yet, without this challenge I would have never started my journey back to wellness. Something had changed deep inside me after that. I realized I was not doing my body any favors by going so easy on myself. My muscles were weak, my balance off, and my joints achy. We had spent our whole BWCA vacation resting and recuperating our battered bodies, preparing for the return journey.
After we got home; instead of going back to my old routine consisting of an abundance of couch and TV time. I started using my gym membership, challenging myself physically for the entire next year. Instead of TV I started to write. I consistently challenging myself, leveling up in life and on the elliptical. This led to jogging on the treadmill. Which turned to running and then weight training.
I was determined to prepare myself for the 2015 BWCA trip. I wasn’t going to be caught off guard again, no Siree!
As I write this. We just returned home from the 2015 BWCA adventure about a week ago. Where I learned the Universe has a wonderful sense of humor. Because this year; we didn’t portage. Not even once.
This lesson taught me how strong I really was. How capable I am when I truly focused. Gaining the desire and determination to maintain wellness has been a blessing in many ways.
This experience started the journey to a healthier version of me. The me I want to be. I want to be active and able to do all the adventuring I desire as I get older. Staying strong and fit is a necessary component to making that possible. Especially as I age.
Over the years I have completed 500hours of yoga training and I am a Certified Yoga Teacher. My thoughts on exercise have transformed to gratitude. I love to be active; I love moving my body, and I am grateful for all it can do. I am always thanking my body for what it does for me. “Thank you, body for doing what I ask you to do. Today and every day. I appreciate you.”
I thank myself for the will and focus to continue moving in healthy ways. After all, my subconscious can hear me. And I am purposely reprogramming my beliefs and requesting easier games now!
Although this was a lesson that felt like it was taught “the hard way”. I now know it was a gift of realignment back to wellness. Which brings me gratitude and great joy!
Wishing you big love and many blessings,
Emy Minzel
Heart Centered, Nature Lover, Writer, Advocate, Adventurer, Yogi, and so much more…
EmyMinzel.com
Emy Minzel 