Superior National Forest - The Perfect Campsite
Eric Weicht
A lot went wrong in 2020.
Like everyone else on this planet, a global pandemic was the farthest thing from my mind when the clock struck midnight on New Year’s Eve 2019. That night at 11:59pm the future was looking bright and full of plans, and I went to bed smiling for more reasons than just the champagne.
2020 was going to be the year that I spent two months traveling around Tanzania. 2020 was going to be the year that I started an exciting new job on the edge of the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness (BWCA). 2020 was going to be the year that I got engaged.
At the time, I was living in a small-town community in northeastern MN, working as the Activities Director at a historic resort by day and as a bartender at the local craft brewery by night.
I had a favorite coffee shop, a favorite local diner for breakfast, and a favorite restaurant to get cheese curds. I would sauna most mornings at the local YMCA, and connect with friends over bonfires and board games most nights.
But then the pandemic happened and all of that changed…
The first few weeks of unemployment and social distancing were the toughest. I spent most of quarantine getting lost between the covers of books and going on long, destination-less walks through the woods with my girlfriend and our little wheaten terrier Lana.
Those spring walks through the Superior National Forest were what pulled me through the initial shock of the pandemic. It was spring and the forest was just starting to awaken from its winter-long slumber. Chickadees went about their daily routine as if nothing had changed, and every now and again we’d hear a saw-whet owl peeping through the evening shadows.
I was supposed to be starting a new job as the outfitting manager at a small BWCA canoe outfitter up the Gunflint Trail, but at the onset of the pandemic the BWCA was closed and none of us knew when it would open again. Without knowing what the summer would bring the outfitter couldn’t commit to keeping me on for the full season, which only added to the heaviness of the moment.
So, when the BWCA finally opened again May 18th I did what I always try and do when life gets me down- I headed out on a 3-day canoe trip with my girlfriend and our dog Lana.
The first night was fine. The dog kept us up by whining at every little sound outside the tent- especially when the wolves started to howl- but the weather was clear and it just felt good to be in the wilderness, in a world that hadn’t changed a bit with the pandemic.
The next morning, we made a quick breakfast of oatmeal before breaking camp and hitting the water a little after sunrise. There was an island campsite some 20ish miles away that I had had circled on my maps for a long while, so we made that our destination and started paddling. It ended up being a long, tiring day, but as the saying goes, “a tough day in the woods is better than a good day in the office”.
When we finally arrived at our destination later that afternoon, it looked as if the site had been worth the effort. There was a beautiful rock shelf to fish off of and watch the sunset, a perfect tent site nestled beneath a pair of towering white pine, and the fire pit looked like something out of a postcard. After a quick high-five my girlfriend and I unloaded the canoe and started setting up camp, and that’s when we discovered the bees….
At first there were just a few buzzing around and scaring the dog. We set up the tent and our hammocks, but then right as we were about to start boiling water for pasta, we realized that what had seemed like a few pesky bees was in fact the first of several waves of bees that were now crawling out of the ground right where we had set up out tent.
Soon our perfect little island campsite was swarming with the vicious little stingers. Exhausted and unwilling to pack up again and find a new site, my girlfriend and I decided to just try and move everything away from the bees as best we could and make do with what we had. I mean, it was 2020, we were used to things not going according to plan...
But we adapted, and after moving all of our gear as far away from the bees as possible, we made a delicious dinner and played a game of cribbage. The forest was alive with birdsong that evening, and I caught the largest smallmouth bass of my life right from shore. We even saw a moose(!) while reading our books by the fading evening light.
And you know, just like that campsite with the bees…
A lot went right in 2020.
2020 was going to be the year that I spent two months traveling around Tanzania. 2020 was going to be the year that I started an exciting new job on the edge of the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness (BWCA). 2020 was going to be the year that I got engaged.
At the time, I was living in a small-town community in northeastern MN, working as the Activities Director at a historic resort by day and as a bartender at the local craft brewery by night.
I had a favorite coffee shop, a favorite local diner for breakfast, and a favorite restaurant to get cheese curds. I would sauna most mornings at the local YMCA, and connect with friends over bonfires and board games most nights.
But then the pandemic happened and all of that changed…
The first few weeks of unemployment and social distancing were the toughest. I spent most of quarantine getting lost between the covers of books and going on long, destination-less walks through the woods with my girlfriend and our little wheaten terrier Lana.
Those spring walks through the Superior National Forest were what pulled me through the initial shock of the pandemic. It was spring and the forest was just starting to awaken from its winter-long slumber. Chickadees went about their daily routine as if nothing had changed, and every now and again we’d hear a saw-whet owl peeping through the evening shadows.
I was supposed to be starting a new job as the outfitting manager at a small BWCA canoe outfitter up the Gunflint Trail, but at the onset of the pandemic the BWCA was closed and none of us knew when it would open again. Without knowing what the summer would bring the outfitter couldn’t commit to keeping me on for the full season, which only added to the heaviness of the moment.
So, when the BWCA finally opened again May 18th I did what I always try and do when life gets me down- I headed out on a 3-day canoe trip with my girlfriend and our dog Lana.
The first night was fine. The dog kept us up by whining at every little sound outside the tent- especially when the wolves started to howl- but the weather was clear and it just felt good to be in the wilderness, in a world that hadn’t changed a bit with the pandemic.
The next morning, we made a quick breakfast of oatmeal before breaking camp and hitting the water a little after sunrise. There was an island campsite some 20ish miles away that I had had circled on my maps for a long while, so we made that our destination and started paddling. It ended up being a long, tiring day, but as the saying goes, “a tough day in the woods is better than a good day in the office”.
When we finally arrived at our destination later that afternoon, it looked as if the site had been worth the effort. There was a beautiful rock shelf to fish off of and watch the sunset, a perfect tent site nestled beneath a pair of towering white pine, and the fire pit looked like something out of a postcard. After a quick high-five my girlfriend and I unloaded the canoe and started setting up camp, and that’s when we discovered the bees….
At first there were just a few buzzing around and scaring the dog. We set up the tent and our hammocks, but then right as we were about to start boiling water for pasta, we realized that what had seemed like a few pesky bees was in fact the first of several waves of bees that were now crawling out of the ground right where we had set up out tent.
Soon our perfect little island campsite was swarming with the vicious little stingers. Exhausted and unwilling to pack up again and find a new site, my girlfriend and I decided to just try and move everything away from the bees as best we could and make do with what we had. I mean, it was 2020, we were used to things not going according to plan...
But we adapted, and after moving all of our gear as far away from the bees as possible, we made a delicious dinner and played a game of cribbage. The forest was alive with birdsong that evening, and I caught the largest smallmouth bass of my life right from shore. We even saw a moose(!) while reading our books by the fading evening light.
And you know, just like that campsite with the bees…
A lot went right in 2020.