Really? Then what happened?: Escaping from a forest fire

Escaping From a Forest Fire

We had planned a wilderness canoe trip to the Boundary Waters in Minnesota for several years, and our trip started Sept 7, 2011. We are not wilderness rookies, nor new to canoeing, our canoe club that has been canoeing together for 6 years. Dick (far left) is a former national champion canoeist from the 1960’s, and has been teaching kayaking ever since. Second from left is his wife Sue. My brother, Clark, (third from left), and his wife Ann (far right), are ardent backpackers who teach outdoor skills to Boy Scout leaders. Judy and Dave (fourth and fifth from left) have been on wilderness kayaking trips for decades. I have cooked for and led wilderness canoe trips for more than 20 years (I’m second from the right). The two in black are my husband Hans and Sue’s friend Gail.

Our crew

The rangers who issued our permit told us that there was a small fire that had been started by lightning on Aug 18^th, and that a backfire had been lit by firefighters at the portage between Lake One, our put in, and Lake Two. They said some of the campsites were a little smoky, but other than that, our itinerary would quickly have us out the area.

Backfire at Lake Two

On the second day we went through Lake Two, Three, and Four, then into Lake Hudson. One of our party became suddenly ill, and we decided to stop and rest for three nights and only take day trips so that she could recover. We had alternative routes that allowed for this. The weather was very warm, up into the high 80’s. We could see smoky clouds from the fire back by Lake One, but every morning the smoke abated. We swam, paddled into nearby lakes, spotted beavers and even a mama bear and her cub swimming to an island. We did not know that two days after we left it, that campsite was burned.

Swimming at Lake Hudson

Looking Back at Lake One

Hans Portaging

A Day Trip

Now that our party member was feeling better, we decided to take a long portage into Lake Insula, a large lake. On the portage we met a man who was traveling alone. He was 75 years old or so and had been coming to the Boundary Waters since 1954. This was almost his last trip, he did not know that he would have to paddle by moonlight to get out of the fire.

We found a simply beautiful campsite and had a moonlight paddle around some islands in on silky smooth water. However, the fire cloud was getting bigger, and the southern half of Lake Insula would be burned to the ground the next afternoon. We did not know this of course.

Portaging into Lake Insula

Our Camp on Lake Insula. It is now gone.

Moonlight paddle with Clark and Ann.

The fire cloud is growing.

In the morning we wondered if we should stay at Lake Insula, which we thought was a long way from the fire, or head north via a shortcut and resume our original plan. Our lazy days had been so fun, there was some thought of staying put. Then some canoeists came by and told us the fire was growing and that they had closed Lake One, Two, Three, Four and Hudson, where we had just been. We jumped up and began hurrying to break camp, not because we feared the fire, but because we felt our trip now demanded we paddle more each day in order to make it back to our cars on time to catch our planes home.

We ran into some bad wind that day. At first it was at our backs, from the south, and we were headed north. In a way this was good as it pushed us along, but it was also bad for several reasons. It fanned the fire until it got out of control and became not only huge, but hot enough to jump out to the islands. The south wind pushed it right at us. The other was that the waves were really high. We found the 75 year old man camped on an island and told him that the fire had spread and that the lower lakes were closed and he could not get out via Lake One. He was not too worried.

The configuration of the lake soon meant that we had to paddle with the waves sideways to us, which is scary in a canoe. One canoe took on water, and we paddled as hard as we could to get across. The whitecaps were tipping us so that I could not help screaming once or twice.

We came to the portage at the north end of Lake Insula, and it was the longest portage of the trip, 185 rods (a rod is about 16 feet, or a canoe length). The wind was howling now, and the trees were whipping. Dick was carrying two packs when he heard a tree cracking, and looked around to see if one was about to fall. He couldn’t see it, and something told him to RUN. He ran 5 or 6 strides, and a big birch tree hit the ground 5 feet behind him.

Coming back to the beginning of the portage for my second load was when I got worried. The sky was very red and the wind was very high, blowing the fire right at us. The air was dark and smoky. The fire was gaining on us. We had no idea how close it was.

Looking back, it appeared to me that the fire must be closing.

We did not know it had already reached the southern end of Lake Insula and was nearing our campsite of that morning. The campers on Lake Insula were fleeing for their lives by this time, including the old man.

Time to pray.

As we went into the next lake, we gained some distance from the fire, but the clouds of smoke were huge, soaring upwards thousands of feet.

Smoke clouds

Praying harder.

We canoed through small Lake Kiana and into Lake Thomas. So many canoeists were fleeing the fire that campsites were hard to find. We got into Lake Thomas and had to pass by the first camp site, which was occupied. The second one was not big enough, the third one worked. However, now the wind was howling and we feared that the birches surrounding us might topple. Looking back at the fire was the scariest part though. By this time it was halfway up Lake Insula. It was approaching fast.

That's me in the blue hat on the left.

We already had our tents up, but were thinking it might be time to take them down, put our gear into the dry sacks and sink our canoes. If we had to get into the water, how long would we have before hypothermia set in? Would the smoke be so dense that we would be asphyxiated? Often in super-hot fires, the air is so hot that humans can’t breathe, the hot air enters the lungs and cooks them.

The fire coming.

It is getting hotter and brighter.

I think we were all actively praying by this time. Ash was starting to fall.

Thunder. Huge thunder. Mighty peals of it warned us to take cover, and then the heavens opened up and poured down rain and hail. Dave, who was pumping water, had to run. No one even had time to get into their tents, we hunkered down under a tarp. The hail pummeled us to hard it hurt to hold up the tarp, they were the size of large mothballs and hurt like bullets. The lake was churning with them like a maelstrom. The storm did not last long, only 15 minutes, but that was enough.

It hurt to hold up the tarp.

Dave (far right) is still holding the water filter.

Sometime later, the hail is still present.

We could no longer see the clouds nor the fire. Later in the evening, we saw a red glow on the horizon, but slept soundly. When I woke up worried about the wind, I prayed that God had a dome of protection over me.

In the morning, we paddled as far as Lake Ima, but the winds were so high we had to stop. The portages were crammed with people fleeing and we took the first campsite we could find.

The temperature dropped and the wind was horrible. We feared we should flee, but the winds and whitecaps were so bad it did not appear wise. We wound up staying two nights there, even though it was cold and windy and we really wanted to be somewhere more sheltered.

Looking out the tent window at the wind and rain.

We spent of lot of time in the tents out of the rain. The temperature has dropped dramatically, down to 21 degrees.

By the time the wind calmed down it was too late to move camp.

The next day was breezy, but we got up before dawn and crossed the lake to the portage. We had a beautiful day among small lakes, thankful that the thunderstorm had put out the fire, as the small lakes afforded little protection if we had been overrun by the fire while in them. Instead, we were able to appreciate their beauty.

On the move again.

What happened to 85 degrees?

Hans' frozen sock.

Frost on the canoe.

The last people out met up with us on the last portage, and we canoed across Snowbank Lake to the take out. There we met some rangers who said that whole area we were in was closed. We asked if anyone had been hurt or if there had been any structural damage. They said no one had been killed or hurt, and only one structure had burned but no one had lived there.