The trip began at French Lk The following series is a narrative from my first canoeing trip back over a decade ago into the wilderness of the Quetico. I had been eagerly awaiting this canoe trip to the Quetico for over a year. I had never been on a canoe trip before so I jumped at the invitation to join a friend of mine, Neil, on his annual trek to the Canadian boundary waters. The opportunity to get into the “real backwoods” thrilled me. Joining us were Neil’s wife, Ruth, and David, an adventurous college student [ ed. To regular readers of the blog David is the Man of 3 Names.] We started out from Morris, Minnesota at dawn. For eight hours David and I sat in the back of Neil’s Mazda pickup equipped with an old bus seat that smelled like pigs. Our only view from the rear window was of the trailer that carried our supplies and two aluminum canoes. However, this inconvenience seemed minor compared to adventure I expected in the Quetico. I did not know much about...