Water levels are low. The mosquitoes are gone as are the blueberries. Few canoes ply the waters of the Quetico. Some venture out into the wilderness at this time but they are a rare breed. They will have to make camp early because of the dwindling light. A pot of warm water will have to replace the soap dip as water temperatures become uninviting. The loons have rafted and flown to warmer climates. Their mournful cries silent until the warming rays of spring. This is the way of the north country.
My mind thinks of the time I will be back to the portages I know and even to some I don't. How about you? I look forward to a portage after a long pull on a windy lake. Stretching my legs and giving my shoulders a break from paddling. Maybe drink from my nalgene, or munch on a handful of gorp. Possibly cast a line or two at the end of the portage. How about you?
It's not too soon to think of your next Canadian. Or maybe it will be your first. Come join me.
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