Tag: nature

Off to Witch Bay

bearcruzer

Perhaps we should have known that a place called Witch Bay would have a few tricks up its sleeve.

Mike had been looking forward to this one.

It started innocently enough. Mike had spotted a waterfall on our charts, tucked into a small cove along the shore of Pipestone Peninsula, and that was all the motivation we needed. We wound our way along the peninsula, through Andrew Bay, and dropped anchor with the quiet anticipation of people who have earned a dramatic natural wonder or two. We loaded Sierra and ourselves into the dinghy, and we puttered around the point — and then we searched. And searched.

Someone, it seemed, had tampered with the map.

We found it eventually — a proud one-foot drop, with a modest trickle of water making its way over the rocks and into the lake. We climbed the stair-stepped granite beside it, certain that this was merely the bottom of something grander, that the full magnificent cascade was waiting just above.

It was not. The forest just got thicker.

We have now noticed a pattern developing up here in the north country. The marina that turned out to be a convenience store. The waterfall that turned out to be a trickle. Whether it is the remoteness, the charm of the place, or something more mysterious at work, things are simply described differently up here — and we are learning to recalibrate our expectations accordingly.

But Witch Bay was not finished with us yet.

On the climb back down through the boulders, I spotted something tucked into the cracks of the rock — a small patch of wild strawberries, tiny and sun-warmed, glowing red against the grey granite. They were perfect. Sweet in the way that only something found rather than bought can be sweet, as though they had been left there on purpose, a little gift hidden in the rocks by whoever looks after such things in these northern woods. We ate them on the spot and decided the waterfall was forgiven.

Back aboard Bearcruzer, we traveled on to Witch Bay for the evening — and this time, the spell took a decidedly more magnificent form. As we eased into our anchorage, two swans appeared from nowhere, sweeping in low and slow overhead, their great wings barely moving against the afternoon sky. In Celtic legend, swans are shape-shifters and messengers, creatures that move between worlds. Two of them arriving over a place called Witch Bay felt less like a coincidence and more like a sign — though of what, exactly, we couldn’t say.

Majestic is the only word for it.

They also made us a little homesick. Back in Pagosa Springs, Colorado — our home base when we’re not living aboard — there is a swan who has claimed the local pond as his own personal kingdom. His name is Swan Solo. He is singular, he is imperious, and he is, in his way, irreplaceable. We hope he is having a lovely summer without us and that someone is giving him the attention he clearly feels he deserves.

Whatever spell Witch Bay cast over us that evening, we weren’t complaining. Wild strawberries in the rocks, swans at dusk, a waterfall that kept us humble — it was, in its own quietly magical way, another lovely day on the water.

We are learning to trust the enchantment up here.

Bald Indian Bay

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Lake of the Woods does not let you get comfortable.

After topping off at Devils Gap and leaving Kenora behind, we decided to take a slightly different route out just to mix things up — and the lake immediately reminded us why it demands our full attention. Out here, route planning is less a fixed itinerary and more a loose suggestion. We’re constantly scanning for rocks and hazards lurking just below the surface, cross-referencing the GPS for shallow water, and cheerfully abandoning the plan whenever something interesting catches our eye.

The shallow water alarm still catches us off guard on occasion. There’s a particular kind of collective breath-holding that happens aboard Bearcruzer when that thing goes off — eyes on the depth sounder, eyes on the water, nobody saying much. We’ve learned, though, that we tend to have about two feet under the keel even when the alarm insists otherwise. We are wary. We are watchful. And we are, so far, still floating. Whew.

We headed south, then east, and turned Bearcruzer up into Bald Indian Bay, where we found another lovely nook tucked into the northwest side of Sultana Island. And just like our first night in Canadian waters, a Bald Eagle was waiting for us — perched in a tree above the anchorage as if he’d been expecting company. We exchanged a glance. Thanks Dad. Some things don’t need to be said out loud.

A mother Common Goldeneye Duck and her baby paddled by inspecting us as we set the anchor, apparently satisfied with what they found, and Sierra made it very clear that the official welcome committee could wait — she needed to go ashore.

We loaded into the dinghy and set off to explore the northernmost point of Sultana Island. Rounding the point, we came across something genuinely rare on this lake: a clearing. Open ground is hard to come by out here, where the boreal forest grows straight down to the water’s edge, so we pulled the dinghy up and went to investigate. The clearing had clearly been discovered before us — a small dock tucked into the reeds, a weathered picnic table, a fish cleaning plank, a fire pit, and a handful of empty bottles that suggested more than a few good evenings had been spent in this spot. We couldn’t argue with the taste of whoever found it first.

Back in the dinghy and rounding a small rocky island off the point, the afternoon offered up one more surprise. A redwing blackbird was putting up a tremendous fuss — dive-bombing something small and brown moving through the rocks below. I asked Mike to circle the dinghy back around.

A mink. An actual wild mink, going about its business, entirely unbothered by the bird’s outrage.

I was absolutely tickled. There is something deeply satisfying about seeing a mink in its natural habitat rather than draped across someone’s shoulders at a cocktail party.

We spent the rest of the afternoon in that glassy cove, the kind of afternoon that’s hard to describe without sounding like you’re bragging. Mike fished off the stern. I settled in with my book. Something good came off the stove as the light went golden. The eagle called. The water barely moved.

Some days out here are about the miles. This one was about the stillness.

North to Canada

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We said a fond goodbye to Bobbies Bay on Oak Island, grateful for the shelter it had given us and the muddy little hike through the woods to Sunset Resort that Sierra had thoroughly enjoyed. With the anchor up and the bow pointed northwest, we set our sights on the NW Angle — the northernmost point of the contiguous United States — and whatever lay beyond it.

One thing we’re learning out here is that “marina” means something different on Lake of the Woods. Forget the fixed docks and ship’s stores we know from the coast or the Caribbean. Out here, the boats are small fishing rigs, and Bearcruzer qualifies as a large vessel. We pulled cautiously through the shallow entrance of Youngs Bay Marina and eased onto their fuel dock — Mike’s captaining skills on full display — topped off our tanks, snapped a few photos, and then did something we’d never done before: checked into Canada via a white handheld phone mounted on a booth near the dock. No appointment, no border crossing, no lineup. Just pick up the receiver, follow the CBP officer’s instructions, and answer a few questions. When they asked how long we planned to be in Canadian waters, we said at least a couple of weeks. The officer paused and said, “How about 21 days?” Being the sixth largest lake in the US after the Great Lakes, he probably knew better than we did. We took the 21 days.

Just north of Youngs Bay, we made our way around Magnuson Island to get a look at Fort St. Charles — a re-erected French fur trading post from 1732 that served as a vital base for western exploration. We really wanted to go ashore and poke around, but the wind was blowing hard out of the northwest and straight onshore. The fort wasn’t going anywhere, but Bearcruzer might have, so we settled for photos from the water and pointed ourselves further north in search of a calm anchorage for the night.

The further north we traveled, the more dramatic the landscape became. Lake of the Woods was carved by glaciers, and it shows — granite island outcrops rise straight out of the water, draped in dense moss, ferns, and lichen, with a remarkable mix of southern hardwoods and boreal forest growing right down to the shoreline. It feels ancient out here, in the best possible way.

Following the main track north toward Kenora, we passed Cochrane Island and noticed a small, unnamed island tucked beside it, with a calm patch of water between them and a little beach just big enough for Sierra to stretch her legs. We dropped anchor and barely had time to set it before we spotted them: a pair of Bald Eagles perched in a dead tree directly overlooking our anchorage, keeping a watchful eye on the new arrivals.

Then came the butterflies and dragonflies across the bow — always a welcome blessing.

We dinghied ashore and walked the little beach with Sierra, and as if the eagles weren’t gift enough, we found a couple of fishing lures along the water’s edge. That evening we sat in the cockpit and watched as the eagles weathered a noisy bombardment from the neighboring crows with complete dignity, and brought food in to their nestling as the light faded. Their calls echoed across the water long after dark.

We thought of Dad. He would have loved every minute of this — the eagles, the wilderness, the quiet. He is soaring with them now, above this little bit of heaven on earth.

Miss you, Pops.

Arlo Martin Sperry Jr 9/27/37 – 03/06/26

Into the Unknown: Where the Fish Boats Outnumber Us 100 to 1

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If you want to feel like a celebrity, here’s a tip: bring a cabin cruiser to a lake where everybody else fishes out of a 16-foot aluminum boat. Our launch from the Warroad City Boat Launch went smoothly, just a little dragging of the trailer over the launch to keep us humble. But the inspector at the ramp told us flat out he’d never seen a boat quite like ours come through there. We’d pictured sharing Lake of the Woods with other pleasure boats like Bearcruzer. Instead, we’ve gotten a steady stream of stares, questions, and what we’re choosing to interpret as friendly curiosity from the campground regulars. We were even presented with some fresh fish on Thursday night….since we hadn’t had the chance to catch our own yet, and he didn’t want us to miss a Friday fish fry.!!! We shared it with my Dad…as it was always his favorite!!! Our plan now is simple: explore respectfully and toss a line in here and there so the local fishermen know we come in peace.

Our first real test came fast. The channel leaving Warroad was skinny; we are still getting to know Bearcruzer, so when shallow water alarms sound, it’s all hands on deck to make certain we are not about to sink or run aground. We trimmed the engine and proceeded slowly till we were in deeper water. Crisis averted. We’d read about Garden Island on the US side of the border and pointed Bearcruzer thirty miles north to check it out. The wind was out of the west and built the lake into a steady three-foot chop the whole way up, enough to keep us both gripping the helm as the waves splashed over the bow, and we kept watch on Sierra, decked out in her new life jacket, bracing against the rocking. We were hoping for the calm serenity of a Garden Island. Instead, we found the waves wrapping clean around the island, turning the main anchorage into something closer to a washing machine than a place to spend the night. No, thank you!

So we pulled out the charts, made the call, and turned northwest toward Oak Island and a spot called Bobbies Bay, hoping the geography would cut us a break from the wind and waves and allow us a calm anchorage to hide in till Mother Nature was done rearranging the upstairs furniture. We tucked in just northwest of Hennum’s Oak Island Lodge and found exactly what we needed: flat water, a handful of cabins along the shore, and a couple of fishing lodges keeping watch over the bay. We stayed two nights. Aleshia served us a wonderful Breakfast Saturday morning at the lodge restaurant, and invited us to return later that evening for live music. As we arrived that evening, the inflatable floor of our dinghy began hissing at us and getting very squishy. She should still get us back to the boat, we’ll deal with it tomorrow. We went on to enjoy some classic country music and easy conversation with the local fishermen before limping back to Bearcruzer. Mike found that the valve cover on the underside of the dinghy floor had not been closed properly. An easy fix…thank goodness.

Between enjoying a meal and entertainment at Hennum’s, we took Sierra exploring the forest roads connecting the lodges on each side of the island, mud and all, where we found evidence of both bear and hearty pioneers. Which brings us to an important seasonal discovery: we have arrived at peak mosquito and tick season. Lucky us. Every hike now ends the same way, full-body brushdowns for Sierra and a thorough tick check for both of us, conducted with the seriousness of airport security. Worth it. Mostly.

Wildlife Scorecard so far: 1 turtle, 2beaver (tail-slap victorious), 2 Loons (not us), numerous White Pelicans, countless mosquitoes & ticks (I think we are losing this fight)

Sometimes the weather likes to test us!

bearcruzer

Our first day on the road, we were met with rain and winds from just east of Denver all the way to Ogallala, NE, where we stopped at Lake Ogallala State Recreation Area for the night.   We opted for the West side Campground as it was less crowded, and we had our choice of beautiful Lakeside Pull-Through Camp spots where Mike proceeded to check and tighten any loose bolts on the trailer. After giving Sierra a much-deserved walk, we settled in for a beautiful sunset followed by an amazing lightning storm.

To clarify our camping situation.  We are staying on the boat on the trailer while traveling.  It is set up to provide us a warm, dry place to sleep, eat, and get out of the weather.  Sierra even has her own little cubby.   While on the trailer, we use a step ladder to get on and off, and Sierra now waits for us to lift her on and off after she learned the hard way about boat-to-ground distances…she is OK.

Our 2nd day driving we were still challenged with both wind and a little rain but made it just outside of Nunda SD where we experienced the very best of what Harvest Hosts is all about thanks to our hosts George and Linda Fenwick — the private tour of the Waterfowl Production Areas, dinner at the Nunda Bar & Grill (rated 4.8 stars, by the way — clearly a gem), souvenir t-shirts, and a storm shelter offer during a tornado watch. That’s hospitality you don’t forget.  Linda’s elective collection of yard art along her walking paths made exploring their property fun.  It was a pleasure spending time together.

On our 3rd day, we pulled a 12-hour drive day with rain again and several detours.  We arrived in Baudette, MN. While exploring our choices for boat launches and a place to leave the truck and trailer, Sierra met a western painted turtle and saw her first beaver at Zipple Bay State Park She was enthralled and wanted to swim after it but it slapped its tail and dove under the water.  Nothing quite like a tail slap to establish the pecking order!

We pulled into Warroad City Campground around 8:00pm and found one of their larger camping spots with electricity available. With the wind still out of the NW at 18 – 20mph with rain expected, we settled in for a couple of days.   We talked to the ranger the next morning and were told it would be no problem leaving the truck and trailer.  The Campground itself is extensive with many of the long-term campers looking like they have been handed down through generations.   After 2 nights at the campground we decided we could wait no longer, so with the wind and waves finally letting up a little we readied Bearcruzer for her aventure onto Lake of the Woods. We felt secure knowing this boat was built to handle wind and waves.   With over 14,500 islands straddling the US/Canada border there is no shortage of places to explore….so where to now?    Come along and find out!