The Call of the Earth

Early morning sunlight meanders through mist rising slowly from the lake’s silk smooth complexion. Another day awakens in the Boundary Waters Canoe Area in northern Minnesota.

Twin vortices spin on the water’s surface from the edges of my canoe paddle as it powers through another stroke. A pair of vortices, spinning top-water, trail silently behind the propelled canoe and disappear. Like thousands before, each paddle stroke accelerates the canoe to a “rapid” velocity of 4 miles per hour. Slow by modern standards, but the BWCA does not operate on human progress, deadlines or caffeine.

If you are in a hurry, it isn’t the place to go. Travel is slow and arduous. Paddling is the easy work. Carrying canoes and gear over portages between lakes is intensive labor. The mosquitoes are big and hungry. The weather can turn cold and wet on any day of the short summer. When the wind blows, canoe travel can be impossible.

Why hassle with the discomfort of the muddy parasite-infested back-breaking journeys into the BWCA only to stumble back out of the wilderness exactly where you entered? What is it about these 1 million acres of backwoods boondocks that stirs and call to the souls of many who enter?

This pristine patch of glacier-created splendor is an exceptionally rich natural beauty and resource. The Boundary Waters Canoe Area and the adjoining Quitico Area in Canada were set aside to preserve a distinct wilderness. Ten thousand years have passed since retreating sheets of ice carved, pushed, and gouged rock and soil. The muscle behind these great ice chunks surpasses any synthetic power.

Unchanged in hundreds of years, I find comfort knowing what is present today is what Native Americans saw 500 years before. Sadly, there are few places on earth where humans haven’t attempted to make “improvements” or recreate the scenery. This place is untouched.

Stunning contrasts rule this great wilderness. The unique ecosystem is harsh yet vulnerable, fragile but sturdy, beautiful yet unforgiving. Plants and animals that live here must be tough to survive. Short summers yield early to impatient autumns. Dark night skies give brilliancy to a multitude of stars not seen in light-polluted cities. Tenacious trees cling to mere handfuls of soil on top of boulders that project over shorelines. Some cedar trees are estimated to be more than 600 years old. Soaring bald eagles and osprey are plentiful and skilled hunters. Minnesota’s state bird, the common loon, with its majestic to comical vocal calls and black and white plumage, provide hours of entertainment. Despite the contrasts, the animal life has adapted through survival of the fittest.

The finest element of a Boundary Waters trip is what gets left behind. With modern layers of luxuries absent, basic survival in the BWCA is refreshing and revitalizing. Civilization can be a mad materialistic self-perpetuating loop of production, feeding demanding consumers. It is nice to be out of the loop if only for a short time. Having some distance from being immersed, influenced, and persuaded is like stepping out of shark infested waters. No phone, TV, radio. The constant background chatter and barrage of buy this, go here, do that is always present.

No other place in the state of Minnesota has caused as much debate as the BWCA. There has been more political maneuvering over the use and protection of the BWCA than Watergate and Bill Clinton combined. Naturalists, local residents and industrialists have butted heads over the use of this area since Minnesota became a state.

Feelings are strong regarding the use of the BWCA. Long time supporter of the canoe area and famous writer, Sigurd Olson, was hung in effigy in his Minnesota home town of Ely, because of his strong support in preserving the area for canoe use only. Logging, mining, motor boat use, and snowmobiling were all threats to the protection of the BWCA. In the 1920’s, plans to build a dam in the heart of the BWCA were proposed, but thankfully aborted. Commercial development still applies unremitting pressure against those who fight to protect this area.

The importance of preserving the BWCA is about recognizing a slipping connection- the connection of people with the earth. A face-to-face encounter with pure unadulterated natural beauty can renew the vital truth of the importance of our environment.

I am a mere neophyte in BWCA experiences. People have returned for years to the BWCA. For all the fighting and upheaval there has been to protect it, I believe it is worth it. I had the extreme pleasure of introducing my son to the wonders of this place. I hope and wish he too will have the opportunity to do likewise. I trust many may continue to hear the call of the Earth through places like the BWCA.