Day 8 - Kawnipi Lake (Sunday, August 10)

(no mileage recorded, no portages)

The night was clear and still. I awoke at some point in the middle of the night and stepped outside the tent. I saw a very faint display of northern lights off the north tip of the island. It was just a dim green glow with occasional spikes and small columns. It was not at all a strong display and really not worth setting up the camera for.

Morning mist at island campsite on Kawnipi Lake. (click on any image for larger version)

I slept in past sunrise and emerged from the tent into a cloud of mist. It didn't take long for that mist to burn away, however, and soon another perfect day was revealed. Yesterday was hard to improve upon weather-wise, but today had it soundly beat with temperatures in the seventies, low humidity, a touch of breeze, and blue skies dotted with little cotton ball clouds.

Dew on webs. (Kawnipi Lake) Fire ring. (Kawnipi Lake)

My goal today was to basically do nothing, just rest. Around noon I took a nap, something I almost never do. As I lay in the tent I closed my eyes and listened to the tranquil sounds of the wind and birds. A slight breeze passed through the mesh screens at the top of the tent, and I enjoyed one of those extended periods of serene semi-consciousness, floating in and out of peaceful moments of sleep.

View towards back bay of island campsite. (Kawnipi Lake)

Now that I had time to reflect a bit, I was finally able to evaluate how I was handling my first week of near total seclusion. This can be a source of concern for some people, because it's hard to know how one might react to being alone for extended periods of time in such a remote environment. Fortunately in my case, it all felt so natural that it took me a week just to begin thinking about the subject. I guess I had been so busy with the work of paddling, portaging and camping that I hadn't had time to get bored or lonely. I did think about Heidi, though, and wondered how her trip was going. It would have been great to be sharing these experiences with her.

Canoe ready for a day of fishing. (Kawnipi Lake)

The sun hit the tent later in the afternoon, warming my little cocoon just enough to get me functioning again. I decided to do some fishing and began with a little casting from shore. When that proved to be unproductive, I rigged the canoe for fishing and headed for the bay behind my little island. I had brought a new rod holder and mesh anchor bag to try out for the first time on this trip, and both worked great. The holder was removable and simply fit into a little plastic socket that I had secured to one of the canoe thwarts. The anchor bag, filled with rocks from around camp, was easily controlled by a length of anchor rope that was looped around a couple of carabiners bungeed to both the front and back thwarts. The fishing here lived up to its reputation, and I had no problem reeling in numerous northern pike and smallmouth bass. I only managed to land one walleye, though.

My campsite location, though remote, was still located along a fairly common travel route, and my day did not pass in total solitude. For one thing, I occasionally noticed a float plane to the east that seemed to be following Agnes Lake north and south, and I assumed it was on some scheduled route. Then there were also a few canoes that did passed through, and I heard one couple express their surprise when they saw my camp. The last of the canoes was a group of three guys who stopped to camp just around the bend. It was the only night on the entire trip when I was camped close enough to actually hear anyone, but at first light the next morning they were gone.

I enjoyed the remaining daylight taking pictures and watching the resident family of mergansers dive for dinner around the island. It had been a very good day.

Mergansers pass by looking for dinner. (Kawnipi Lake)

Campsite's inuksuk in evening light. (Kawnipi Lake)