Circa 2003
Ramshead Fiasco
By Anymouse
Always wanted to make a base camp on Ramshead and fish for those big Northerns that I knew lived there. I’d been hearing stories since the nineteen fifties about the fish and how fertile that lake was. I had made one short side trip into Ramshead by myself on a previous trip when the rest of my group thought that it was too windy and chilly to venture away from camp (The Wimps!). On that little venture I had caught a small perch in a sheltered bay on the way in, so I knew that Mrs. Northern would be nice and fat with feed like that. About ten minutes later I dumped the canoe in the high winds. Thus ended my little side trip. Too dumb to weight down the bow and take other proper precautions. Paid the price with a cold paddle back to base camp that took about three hours and I didn’t dare stop until home in the temperatures that we had that day (boots stayed wet for most of the rest of the trip, as I couldn’t seem to get them dried out). Could have been worse, I was lucky. But then I’ve never been accused of being a Mensa candidate. The rest of this story will demonstrate and confirm that.
This time and this trip would be different. And so it was. It was much worse than just dumping a canoe in the wind. If you give the outfitter the idea that you know what you’re doing and you don’t need or want any advice, it stands to reason they might not offer any comments. (“Let Mr. Macho hang himself.”) But if you happen to get an outfitter that also doesn’t know or possibly care what he’s doing, the combination can be deadly. I made some bad mistakes on this trip and my partner with limited boundary waters experience saved my butt.
We got a late start going in on this trip, but still made good time until we hit the portage to Lamb Lake. Not an easy one for us to find and we walked it all the way to the end before starting the carry (in order to be sure we would be able to do it with the gear we were toting). The old portage from years back was no longer used and I don’t think that the new one saw more than a few parties every year. So by the time the “Old Farts” got everything to the other side of the portage I had foolishly allowed myself to become dehydrated. This combined with the fact that I’m not a youngster and basically out of shape didn’t help either. By itself I probably would have recovered or gotten squared away before we continued on to Ramshead. Instead, as we were finishing the last trip of the carry we had quite a blow move in on us (lots of lightning and sound effects). High winds, rain in buckets and a major drop in temperature all now contributed to our problems. (Thank god for a good partner who saved my bacon and possibly the trip.) My partner (Ken) was in good shape and basically took care of his idiot partner. The portage from Nina Moose was primarily covered by forest canopy and we never saw what was coming at us and didn’t pay attention to any signs of the incoming weather change.
The terrain around Lamb Lake shoreline and surrounding area did not allow for trying to pitch a camp or finding proper shelter (there are no approved campsites on this little lake and most of it is surrounded by muskeg or rock). The best we could do was break out the tent and prop it up on the incline at the end of the portage trail. It wasn’t great but it afforded the best shelter we could get at the time in those conditions. Then, to try and wait out the storm (by this point in time I had started to shake uncontrollably). We also managed to find the sleeping bags and with the runoff water from the storm running through the tent we crawled into them and got some relief. Earlier, at the beginning of the storm Ken determined that we had to get some water into my fat self, so we had quickly filled a couple of half gal bottles from the lake before crawling into the tent. By the time it stopped blowing it was late evening or early morning, depending on how you call it. We then had to wait for daylight and actually in my state of mind or condition I didn’t find it that bad. (I was told later that I wasn’t making a lot of sense at the time.) The next morning didn’t find either one of us in good shape mentally or physically, but Ken helped me to remove my head from my behind and we figured that since there was only one more portage I probably wouldn’t get us in any more trouble. Unfortunately that’s not how it worked out.
We loaded the canoe and paddled over to the other side of the lake to make the portage to Ramshead. In looking at the map, in our befuddled state of mind and upon reaching the other side of the lake; we determined that with the low water it was not possible to get to the portage at the end of the channel leading out of Lamb. It was still raining and in our current state we didn’t even get out of the canoe and scout the shoreline for other bush whacking possibilities. We had had enough of portages that we had never been over before. We further thought that we had better make a decision right then and stick to it. So back to the way we came in and three more trips over the same two-thirds of a mile portage back to Nina Moose. (If the weather turned ugly again, at least we would be able pitch a makeshift camp and get shelter.) Not a lot of fun as we were carrying full weight of the beginning of the trip, but the anger of my/our stupidity gave a certain amount of adrenaline to get the job done. We decided to base on Lake Agnes and finally found an unoccupied campsite late in the afternoon (I think the last one available). We spent most of the next day recuperating from my/our mistakes on the travel in. Two days later we would find out how foolish we really were.
After a couple of days we determined that come “hell or low water” we were going to go into Ramshead for a day trip. The portage off of Nina Moose River wasn’t that bad and we didn’t have any extra gear in the canoe. If we would have been loaded down I don’t know if we would have made it through the shallow water and wild rice to the portage entrance. Once into Ramshead we of course decided that we had to take the portage to Lamb from the backside of our first day’s fiasco. Upon going across from the Ramshead side we found it came out on the lake and not at the end of the channel as shown on the map. Worse, if we would have had clear heads we would have seen that the proportions or distance shown on the map did not coincide with the distance given. The 150 rods is probably correct, but the line does not show it going or extending to the lakeshore (the short little line on the map would have only been about thirty-five rods). If we had reconciled the two or gotten out of the canoe and scouted it that day in the rain, we would have saved ourselves a lot trouble and carrying. It should have been clear that the distance given and the line on the map didn’t match up. Unfortunately neither of us was thinking clearly that first day in. (Current maps show the correct distance and location of the portage.)
The rest of the trip was great and served as a reminder that even a bad day in the woods can beat a good one elsewhere. We were treated to some visits from some otters and other critters, had one evening of Northern Lights displays and in general the weather turned good with no bugs to speak of.
[I now digress into what a different outfitter might have done for us.]
In discussing a later trip with one who knew what he was doing, I mentioned the possibility of a base camp on Ramshead. The outfitter immediately commented as to all the difficulties involved with that idea, along with the high algae that would be present on the lake at that time of year, etc., etc. He was giving the pertinent info that one could use to make an intelligent decision about the trip.
On the fiasco trip, while taking a quick look over the gear before leaving I noted that there was no stove included. “Oh, you wanted a stove?” This was “complete outfitting” and when we had to stop to buy propane on the way in to the drop off point, I should have realized that there was something amiss. As I paid for the propane at the gas station out of my own pocket, (outfitter didn’t even have any propane to go with the stove he finally gave us) I should have seen the red flags. We won’t even go into the little things like mattresses that didn’t hold air and other missing comfy things like, “Oh you wanted that?”
So if we knew where the portage was and how easy/hard it would be, were told about the lake conditions that we might incur and finally were given a complete outfit before going in, do you think it might have been a little easier? Would a good outfitter have saved me or us from ourselves? I think the outfitter that was knowledgeable and “cared,” would have saved us. He was certainly able to diplomatically cut through my pompous posturing in our very first conversation. Caused me to think about my agenda and made me believe that the right ideas were all mine to begin with. So it is that anytime in the future that I use an outfitter; it will be the one who not only is knowledgeable, cares about what he’s doing, but also possesses something of which I have none (tact & finesse). The outfitter from the fiasco trip is no longer in business (thank god!), but the other who knew his stuff is an ever-expanding operation that even books international junkets. Amazing to me what can be found in the little town of Ely, MN.
So as Forrest Gump said, “Stupid is as stupid does.” But a good outfitter can still sometimes save you from yourself. Even with good outfitting, you need to pay attention to what you’re doing. Do you know how to “right” your canoe if you dump? Is everyone wearing they’re pfd’s whenever they go out? Are you allowing that “rookie” to wander off the trail? The list goes on and should be considered seriously. Why allow yourself or anyone else the opportunity to turn a great trip into a “Ramshead Fiasco.” Sometimes, god might not protect a fool.
“Excerpts from SIX (6) FROM SIXTY (60)”
Copy right TXu 2-234-819 January 2021
I’m sad these stories are almost over!! When Anymouse sent these to me just for a fun read, I begged him to let me post them. I have done some camping back in my youth; backpacking, day hiking, and some river canoeing. Even living in Minnesota for 32 years, I never made it up to the Boundary Waters. Now, I get a sense of how much fun (ok, hard work … but fun!) I missed. Where is my Way-Back Machine?
Lost some of its luster when it started to be waiting at the “take outs” for portages with two or three parties in front of you. Takes a few more portages out of the way or further off the beaten track to make it work these days even with the permit system in place to limit the number allowed in.
Now too old and crippled up to make it work anymore, but still think fondly of basing on a certain island on Ramshead. All the stories without including tales of the fish or the Minnesota state bird (mosquito).
Thanks again for running these even if it has had limited appeal.
I don’t get how central portaging seems to be on these trips. If its going to be a lot of hiking, Id rather do it without holding a canoe and everything in it.
Mostly what I knew about canoeing was you fell in the water a lot (which you do here) and the more uncouth sinply jump in the water and pee in their clothes.
Thank you for making it more than that.
Good read, reminded me of some of my misadventures, mistakes and mishaps.
God protected this fool many times.
Anymouse
I’ve read every one of these installments. I didn’t realize it was your stories until just now. Great writing.
When my brother and I were approx 12 and 14 one of my uncles owned a camp ground on the North Shore of Lake Almanor. My Grandmother had a double wide where she lived year round. My parents would drop us off up there for a couple weeks for several summers when school got out. We’d get up early in the mornings with a back pack, canteen fishing rod and a Ruger Single Six strapped on and hike to one of the inlets into the lake. German Brown heaven. It wasn’t long before we were taking all day hikes an venturing up stream for Rainbows.
I was having a hard time placing the exact date when I remember one year while my parent were there we ventured into the town of Chester’s movie theater to watch the hot new release. The War Wagon. Released 1969.
Keep writing bro, you have a talent for it.