13 August 2007
Dear Family, Friends, Compadres and Allies:
These are the final few days before I leave Austin for a 21-day solo paddle around part of Isle Royale in Lake Superior. I’ve been hoping to do this trip for more than a year and have spent the last months re-reading my books on kayak touring, sorting through my kit, and getting onto any easily accessible piece of water to get muscles and ligaments into some kind of shape.
I am grateful to Ron who has unfailingly shown up at a moment’s notice to add my boat to the
top of his van and drive us to varied launch points. He is good on his end of a boat, has persuaded me of the indulgence of iced water, and doesn’t talk when I want to just paddle. If you know Ron, you might find that surprising.
I’ve one remaining challenge in addition to all of the small things like cancelling the newspaper and stocking up on vacation fish tablets, attending the last meetings, and finishing one more report. My food is shopped and sorted through, repackaged and divided into a box for the first 2 weeks and a separate box that I will mail to myself for the last week. Gear has been added to the “take” box, removed, and then added back again. Spare batteries have been purchased and travel times checked on MapQuest. But I don’t know whether everything fits in the boat.
Tomorrow night is the test pack. Everything will be bagged to be waterproof and a string tied to some of the bags. We will carefully load 50 pounds of kit and food into each tiny nook of the sleek and fast Looksha IV: the forward and rear hatches, in front of my feet, behind my seat, the pockets of my spray skirt. If everything fits, I get to paddle this boat, rather than the Chinook, a slow, high-volume boat purchased years ago to hold a mother’s cargo.
I hope it all fits: the olive oil and two pounds of summer sausage, 3 pounds of cheese, mixes for biscuits and cookies, dried refried beans and lots of masa for tortillas. Also the paddling jacket with the strangling neoprene collar designed to keep water out and me alive if I spill into Superior’s cold water, extra-thick neoprene pants, fleece, fuel, stove, tent, a book for writing, a waterproof and floating (isn’t that a great idea!) marine radio.
The marine radio will be my only contact with anyone farther than shouting distance. No cell phone service, no internet connection, not even a pay phone on the island. So I shall be incommunicado for the 21 days, except with boats within range of my radio. Since I have no way to recharge the radio, though, I will save it for some situation that I hope not to encounter.
A VERY urgent message could be sent to me through the park rangers by calling the park service in Houghton, Michigan: 906 482 0984 during business hours and 906 483 3169 or 906 337 4994 or 906 482 2121 after business hours. Cookies or mail could be sent to arrive on precisely one date when I shall be certain to be at Windigo. Mail them in advance to:
Lauren Ross
c/o The Voyager
Grand Portage, Minnesota 55605
The lower left corner of the package must say: Pickup @ Windigo on September 3, 2007
Thanks to all of you who will mind the babies and feed the cats while I am gone. Be well.
With much love,
Juniper Lauren
