Bear Head, As I Recall It, Sitting Here, Satisfied and Re-Charged: Part 2

Or, A Trip to Bear Head Lake State Park

Monday, Sept. 29: Canoeing, the First Day of Rainy Skies, and Thok!

The end of September is a pretty hard and fast end to summer season, as far as Minnesota State Parks are concerned. A number of running water supplies are shut off, and a number of summer rentals (specifically, canoes and other boating options) are closed down.

So we had pretty much the first two full days in Bear Head in which to get in on this fun. Interesting, that as I thought about this trip in the weeks leading up to the trip, I was bummed about the canoe rentals shutting down midway through our trip; thinking that it would have been fun to be out with the family all day, each day, enjoying the water, exploring, and fishing.

Duh. It didn't strike me (this is amazing, really), the difference between Sharon & me renting a canoe; and Sharon, Lucy, Rose, and me renting a canoe. Not until we were sitting there in the visitor's center, trying to decide whether we would rent for a four-hour half-day or a full day. Suddenly - duh - we'll be lucky if we can be out there fifteen minutes before we have a meltdown or - God forbid, a tipping of the canoe. Are we actually going to keep these two kids seated, and in one place (the middle of the canoe), while trying to maneuver around a 700-acre lake on a somewhat windy, misty day?

We decided on the half-day rental.

So, with an ambitious (and precious) cargo of fishing gear, digital camera, binoculars, rain coats, and lunch for the day, the four of us set off - with a goal of simply making it from the dock symbol with the little fish under it to the two islands in the channgel to the West. Those two islands, undeveloped, are home to some nesting pairs of loons (who, unfortunately, were pretty much at the close of their prime calling season).

We circled the smaller northern one and didn't find a place that was particularly inviting as a landing place; then headed down to the south island, actually making a successful landing and disembarking. Lucy was dead set on sitting in the aft seat - which was fine, except that it resulted in me having to sit with my arse on the bottom of the canoe - getting steadily more wet and chilly, as more an more water splashed into the craft. I was working hard to not only avoid splashing Lucy as I paddled from side to side, but also to avoid dripping any more water into the canoe. This was made all the more difficult as a result of me being low down in the canoe, with my back painfully braced against a thwart. Disembarking for an early lunch was allright for me.

The island was a little, isolated world of mystery and beauty (these remote, northern Minnesota lake islands always remind me of little sub-worlds in Myst). We didn't find loon nests, but we did find some amazing mosses, lichens, and fungi; as well as some possible moose droppings. I did a little panfish fishing with Lucy's Scooby Doo pole (with the idea that, were I to hook a fish, she could reel it in). A couple of bites, and a small adventure of me taking off shoes & socks & rolling up pants to wade out in the icy cold water to dislodge a snag; but no dice. We then sat down for a lunch of hummus on pita, at the end of which little Rose, decked out in her rain gear, looked like a grizzled veteran, back from the front lines on the Bean Wars (see right).

Back into the canoe, and with a continuing ambition; this time to head down south to the now-deserted beach, for another landing, a little exploring around the tall pines, and a good pee. Again, back into the caneo with the idea we might swing up into the North Bay to see our campsite from a different vantage point; but this time I demanded the opportunity to sit on the seat of the helmsman. Lucy & I had a major disagreement over the arrangement, and Rose got into the action. I came out on top with Lucy as a result of pure logic, but Rose became nearly apoplectic - as an exact result of what, I'm still not quite sure. But she simply did not want to get down low. She did not want to sit on a tackle box as a seat, and she did not understand the principles of What-It-Takes-To-Keep-A-Canoe-From-Flipping. A few touch-and-go moments, but when settled, we had both girls laying on the bottom of the canoe (having since dried out - mostly by being mopped up by the seat of my pants), and gazing skyward. We decided to head on back to the canoe landing.

Then back to the cabin, which - incidentally - is/was much superior to the cabins at Ingawanis. Smaller, to be sure, but clean and utterly mouse-proof. Thank God it was a cozy little enclave, since we retreated to it many times during our stay, as an escape from the near constant threatening or actively watery skies and somewhat chilly temps.

Many games of daddy climbing up the bunk ladders to "get" two squealing girls, much reading of stories, and a majority of our meals eaten at the tidy little built-in table.

At this particular time, Sharon, who is training for a 10k this next weekend, headed out for a trail run. Much daddy & daughter fun, till she returned. Then, I headed off on a trail run I'd been looking forward to for about two months.

Thok!

Extremely rocky terrain - should have been no surprised, except that I was actively watching out for the danger. Anyway - it was a kind of bad ankle turn (there would be no trail runs for me the remainder of the week), and - with heart extremely heavy, I limped on home and - as a consolation of sorts - was granted the opportunity to enjoy some kid-free meditation.

We wrapped up the afternoon with a little play around in the cabin, since it was spitting rain; and Sharon prepared the food.

The weather let us enough for us to get a fire going outside for s'mores, and we opened the fixins to find that we were dealing with The Worst Bag of Marshmallows in the History of Mankind. They had somehow become discombobulated and glued to one another and the interior of the bag. The only way to get at them was to slice the bag down the side, and the only way to get marshmallow out was to tear a piece away from the main hulk. And even then, they were so gooey and sticky, your fingers hands would later require excessive scrubbing to get the 'mallow off. More of it remained on your hands than you could actually mold and form around the end of your toasting stick. Unbelievable, really.

Cub Foods brand marshmallows, if you're interested.