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Quetico is celebrating its 100th Anniversary. Quetico was originally set aside in 1909 as the Quetico Forest Reserve, became a Provincial Park in 1913, logging was banned in 1972 and it was declared a wilderness park in 1978. Quetico is characterized by towering cliffs, rocky islands and sandy beaches in a watery landscape of clear water lakes, rivers, creeks and bogs. These compelling attributes that attract canoeists to Quetico are primarily the results of the actions of glacial ice and glacial meltwater at the end of the last Ice Age.

Silver Falls at dusk the day after ice-out in 2008.

Continue reading ‘Quetico Park: Twelve Thousand Years in the Making – A Century of Protection’

In the spring of 1942, sixteen-year-old Bob Hayes landed at the Bayley Bay Ranger station on Basswood Lake. Years later, he remembers thinking that “I thought I was descending into the ultimate paradise.” Since he was coming from Beaverhouse Lake, where he had worked on a walleye spawning crew, he already knew that working and living in Quetico Park was a perfect fit for a young man interested in the outdoors. He had become quickly infatuated with Quetico, and he soon found out that across the lake was an attraction that proved to be even stronger than Quetico.

Oscar and Marie Johnson

Leone Johnson, who was also sixteen in 1942, spent her summers working at Johnson Brother’s Fishing Camp, which was owned and built by her father Oscar Johnson and his brother Bill. It was located west of Rice Bay on the American side of the lake almost directly south of the Bayley Bay Ranger Station. Leone’s family has a long history on Basswood Lake. Her father, Oscar Johnson, fished commercially on Pipestone Bay in the 1920’s and he started Johnson Brother’s Fishing Camp with his brother Bill in 1925. The camp, the second one on Basswood Lake, was composed of a main lodge and five cabins. It appealed to serious fishermen and its reputation spread quickly by word of mouth and they never had to advertise. The fishing camp was a family business and Leone worked long hours and had a variety of jobs. Oscar and Bill ran the resort until they sold to the government in 1953 when Basswood resorts were being bought out to create the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness.

Although Bob’s days were busy with his duties as a Park Ranger, he commonly had time in the evenings to pursue his own interests. Bob was fortunate that both the supervisors he had at Bayley Bay, George Armstrong and Oscar Frederickson, took a liking to him and were willing to assist him in any way they could. For example, on Bob’s first evening on Basswood Lake, George Armstrong took him across Bayley Bay to meet the young women who worked at Johnson Brothers Fishing Camp.

He quickly became smitten with the sparkly-eyed brunette who worked behind the counter. Bob recalls that they were soon “exchanging our life stories, which doesn’t take long when you are sixteen”. Both Bob and Leone recall an “instant chemistry” and they exchanged rings during that summer that “passed all too quickly.”

Bob went back to work on the spawning crew at Beaverhouse Lake in the spring of 1943, but this time he was in charge of the operation. He was just seventeen years old and to make his job more challenging, his twenty-one year old brother was a member of the crew. He went to Pickerel Lake for the first part of the summer where he patrolled for poachers with George Armstrong. Bob had corresponded with Leone over the winter and he was extremely happy to end up back on Basswood Lake for the remainder of the summer. There were many twenty-minute paddles or five-minute boat rides across Bayley Bay during the summers of 1942 and 1943. Bob spent the fall at Cabin 16 on Basswood Lake where he shared the Park Ranger duties with Jess Valley, an experienced Park Ranger. He was able to visit Leone on weekends, traveling by canoe in the fall and by snowshoe in the winter.

In the fall of 1943, World War II was becoming very intense and Bob felt a strong obligation to do his part. Since he was not yet eighteen, he had to get written permission from his parents to join the military. He enlisted in the Royal Canadian Air Force in January of 1944 and quickly came to the realization that he might not survive the war. Since he was unsure of his fate and didn’t want Leone to wait, possibly in vain, for his return, he reluctantly wrote her a ‘Dear Jane’ letter. After his military training, he was sent to England where he served as a flight engineer on a Lancaster Bomber on bombing missions over Germany. He was discharged in the spring of 1946 and quickly discovered that Leone had taken his letter seriously and had married and had a baby.

Bob was anxious about returning to Quetico Park but, for obvious reasons, he had no desire to go back to Basswood Lake. He spent the summer working at Lac La Croix but was assigned to work with Jess Valley again at Cabin 16 on Basswood Lake in the fall. He agreed to go since he knew Jess and enjoyed working with him. When the plane landed on Basswood Lake, Bob learned that Leone’s husband, who was only 26 years old, had just died from congestive heart failure. Bob went to see Leone that fall and they both looked forward to seeing more of each other the next summer on Basswood Lake.

In the spring of 1947, Leone was back working at her parents’ resort near Rice Bay on Basswood Lake and Bob was glad to be back on Bayley Bay working for Oscar Frederickson. Bob describes Oscar as one of the most unforgettable people that he has ever met. He was a man with “a gruff exterior, but a heart of gold.” During the summer, park authorities decided to transfer Bob to Lac La Croix. Oscar Frederickson, however, had other ideas. Bob recalls that Oscar radioed park headquarters, although the plane was already in the air, and growled, “I want Hayes to stay here and here he’s going to stay.” Oscar was highly respected by park officials and his opinion carried a lot of weight. The plane landed, but flew back without Bob.

Bob and Leone saw a lot of each other during the rest of the summer and, to no one’s surprise, decided to get married. Bob quit the Ontario Department of Lands and Forests (the precursor of the Ontario Ministry of Natural Resources) in January of 1948 and married Leone in May of 1948. They moved to Emo, Ontario where Bob worked as a heavy equipment operator for the Department of Highways. They had a daughter, Suzie, two years later. They were content living in Emo, but they both missed northern Minnesota with its proximity to Basswood Lake and felt they would be happier in Winton. Bob contacted the U. S. Consulate in Winnipeg and had his visa in just six weeks. They moved to Winton and Bob was quickly hired to work at the Winton Hydro Electric dam on Fall Lake. He worked there for 31 years and retired in 1985 at the age of 59.

Bob’s Early History

Manitou Rapids Reserve in 1932

Bob was born in 1926 and grew up on the Manitou Rapids Reserve, which is located on the north shore of the Rainy River west of Fort Francis, Ontario. His father was the agricultural agent of the Reserve and he was the first white baby born on the Reserve which is now part of the Rainy River First Nation. The Manitou Mounds, situated along the shore of the Rainy River, are the largest group of burial mounds in Canada. This site, known in Ojibwa as Kay-Nah-Chi-Wah-Nung, or “place of the long rapids”, was declared a site of national historic significance in 1970. It is now the home of a terrific Interpretive Centre that presents local history from a First Nations point of view.

Bob and his two brothers had an idyllic childhood growing up along the Rainy River. It must have been similar to my childhood in southern Minnesota except he was fishing for walleyes instead of bullheads and playing “cowboys and Indians” with real Indians.

Leone’s Early History

Leone Johnson on Basswood Lake summer 1942

Leone was born in Ely, Minnesota and lived in Winton until her family moved back to Ely when she was in the sixth grade. She had a typical northern Minnesota childhood except she spent her summers working at her parents resort on Basswood Lake. She started when she was very young and her responsibilities increased as she got older. She cleaned cabins, worked in the kitchen, cut firewood with a cross cut saw, cleaned outhouses, put up ice, and pumped water up to the tank. A small generator powered the resort and it was turned off, and the lights went out, at 10 p.m.

She also had opportunities to get out onto the lake. The resort had launches and, on occasion, she was able to ride on trips to pick up or drop off guests at Four Mile Portage or even take excursions into the Canadian side of the lake to drop canoeists off at the beginning of their trips. Each morning, Leone used to take a boat to Leo Chosa’s store at Prairie Portage to get minnows. Her friends from Ely and Winton also came up to visit. Of course, she also got time off to take part in those pleasant activities, such as fishing and swimming, that go with living on the lake.

Basswood Lake in the 1940’s

The Basswood Lake that Bob landed on in 1942 was a very different place from what it is today. The attributes of good fishing, abundant wildlife and berries attracted Native People to Basswood Lake and there is archaeological evidence for at least 9,000 years of use of the lake. These same attributes also attracted tourists to the area. A 45 lb 9 oz Northern Pike was caught on Basswood Lake in 1929 and this remains the Minnesota state record. There is good northern pike, smallmouth bass and walleye fishing virtually everywhere on Basswood and lake trout thrive in the cold, clear deep waters of most of the Canadian side of the lake, with Bayley Bay and North Bay being especially renown trout waters. The shallow water sections, located primarily in the southern part of the lake, are home to bluegills and crappies. The attraction of Basswood Lake, undoubtedly one of the most productive and diverse lakes in the entire Boundary Waters region, continues to this day.

The lake was a busy tourist area and there were twenty resorts operating on Basswood Lake in 1942. Some were small resorts that catered to families and provided opportunities for fishing, canoeing, swimming and relaxation, while others primarily catered to fisherman. A few, such as Basswood Lodge, were family resorts that featured luxurious dining on gourmet foods in addition to hot showers and flush toilets. During the day, guests were fishing on the lake, primarily in motorboats, or remained at the resorts to swim or simply relax. In addition to the resorts, houseboats were also present on the lake. Although the lake was busy during the day, people returned to the lodges for the night and campsites were used less than they are now. Although motorboats were more common on the lake than canoes during the resort years on Basswood, people were also or using canoes at the resorts and going on canoe trips.

Although most people and supplies got to Basswood Lake via the motorized Four Mile Portage, some arrived by air. Ely was the hub for float planes flying to resorts in the area as well as flying fishermen and canoeists to their destinations. Ely was the largest inland seaplane base in North America in 1946. In 1949, height restrictions for flying over the BWCAW were put in place. The restrictions on flying, and other restrictions, led to a demise of the resorts. This was a period of intense debate, acrimonious charges and numerous court battles between those favoring motor use and wilderness advocates. Many decades have passed, the debates continue and the wounds have still not completely healed.

In contrast to today, logging was occurring on Basswood in the 1940’s. Logging was being carried out on the Canadian side of Basswood Lake, with newly initiated 300 foot shoreline restrictions, in 1942 and 1943. J. M. Matheiu had two logging camps on Basswood Lake, one on Sunday Bay and another on Canadian Point.

Logging on the American side of Basswood began in 1895. Accessible lumber declined in the early 1920’s and the two large mills in Winton, Minnesota that were the destination for much of the lumber, Swallow and Hopkins and St. Croix, closed in 1922 and 1923. Logging continued near Basswood Lake at a slower pace in the 1930’s. Frank Hubachek bought land on shore of Basswood when he heard that large pines along the shore were scheduled for logging in 1937. This became the site of the Basswood Wilderness Research station.

Bob’s Work History in Quetico Park

Bob on Agnes Lake in Quetico Park

Bob saw a lot of Quetico Park in the relatively short time he worked there. As mentioned previously, in addition to working out of the Bayley Bay and Cabin 16 ranger stations on Basswood Lake, he also worked on Beaverhouse, Lac La Croix, and Pickerel Lake. Gerry Payne, his partner on Pickerel Lake, told Shan Walshe that Bob Hayes was “the best partner a fellow could ask for because he was easy to get along with and could handle himself in the bush.”

Bob guided for twenty-one years and for fourteen years he was head guide for the Trail Riders, a group associated with the American Forestry Association. He did all his guiding in Quetico Park. On his trips, the emphasis was on traveling and seeing as much of Quetico Park as possible. Fishing was an important part of the trip, but they fished mainly for food. They would stop when they had enough for a meal of fresh fish. Bob told his clients that he wasn’t mad at the fish and they wouldn’t keep catching fish they didn’t need.

Conversing around the campfire was an important part of the trip. Bob is a good storyteller with lots of canoeing and camping experiences to relate. When a young guide asked him for advice on guiding, Bob told him, somewhat in jest, to “take lots of whiskey”. In the spirit of Bill Magie, Bob Cary, Sigurd Olson and other north woods guides, many stories were told around the campfire. I’m sure that many people ended their trips with Bob with stories, not only of their own exploits, but also tales that they heard from Bob Hayes.

His favourite starting point for a trip was Powell Lake. They would fly to Powell Lake and come down Clay Creek, now called Greenwood Creek, and the Wawiag River to Kawnipi Lake. Lower water levels and warmer temperatures in recent years have made Greenwood Creek paddleable only in the spring. From Kawa Bay of Kawnipi there are numerous routes to take back to Moose Lake or Fall Lake. Some of his other favourite spots in Quetico are McEwen, McIntyre and Robinson Lakes. Bob would pick a route that best suited his clients’ interests and experience.

Recent Years

Bob and Leone Hayes

Bob and Leone have known each other for over sixty-four years and have been married for fifty-eight years. It all began on Basswood Lake and they have maintained their interest in Basswood Lake and Quetico Park. In a letter to the Atikokan Progress and the Fort Francis Times regarding the possible closure of the southern entry stations to Quetico Park. Bob wrote “the BWCAW is a magnificent area but somehow it lacks the magic of Quetico. In my opinion, the Quetico is the finest piece of ground and water on the planet.”

They live in Winton, Minnesota, just a short distance from where they met on Basswood Lake. They have often returned to camp on Basswood Lake – first by themselves, then with children and finally with grandchildren. They have remained active and when Leone’s daughter and daughter-in-law go for walks with Leone they both mention that have a hard time keeping up to her. Bob has had knee surgery, or he, also, would also be hard to keep up with. Leone is also known throughout Winton for taking her homemade soup to people who aren’t feeling well.

Bob says that he “left the employ of the Ontario Department of Lands and Forests to marry a woman I couldn’t live without – I still can’t.” The pair that Shan Walshe called ” the nicest couple I know” are thriving in their home not far from where they met on Basswood Lake.

Vera and Joe Meany at Lac la Croix Ranger Station in 1978.

Joe and Vera Meany are now retired in their home along a river about 50 km from Atikokan. For 26 years, from 1971 to 1996, they were the Quetico Park Rangers at the Ranger Station on Lac la Croix. During their years in Quetico, the Meanys built a strong reputation as extremely competent and helpful Park Rangers. In addition to selling park permits and fishing licenses, they also enthusiastically carried out other tasks associated with their job. These included rescuing people who had swamped their canoes and removing innumerable fishhooks embedded in fingers, Joe and Vera Meany at Lac La Croix Ranger Stationlegs, and other, more tender parts of the anatomy. Joe removed so many fishhooks that he was known around Lac la Croix as “Dr. Hook.”

Their many summers in Quetico aided them in advising canoeists about the rapids on the nearby Maligne River and other areas where problems can be encountered. They were also reliable sources of information on fishing, wildlife, pictographs and campsites. One of the real benefits of having Ranger Stations on the edge of Quetico, with knowledgeable people like Joe and Vera manning them, is the opportunity it gives canoeists to find out the current conditions of portages, the places where bears are causing problems, and other up-to-date and accurate information.

A canoe trip into Quetico can be a daunting adventure, especially for novice canoeists. Through their efforts, the Meanys made Quetico canoe trips a safer and more enjoyable experience for thousands of people. Because of the assistance they gave to Boy Scouts from Omaha, Nebraska and other Nebraska canoeists, they were made honourary citizens of Omaha, Nebraska by the town’s mayor.

Joe took a round-about route to Quetico Park. He grew up in Kirkland Lake, Ontario and started working as a diamond driller when he was fourteen. He celebrated his fifteenth birthday working in Pickle Crow and worked in underground mines in Kirkland Lake until he was old enough to join the army. He served 5 years in the army, including eighteen months in Korea.

Vera grew up on Prince Edward Island and later moved to Toronto where she worked with Joe’s sister. She and Joe were married in 1955 and in 1960 they moved to Atikokan where Joe worked in the iron ore mine. Since arriving in Atikokan, their lives have revolved around canoeing. Joe became one of Canada’s top canoe racers and in 1963 teamed with former Atikokanite, Eugene Tetreault, to win the Canadian Professional Championships. Joe won it again the following year with his brother, Don Meany. Don, also an Atikokan resident, now makes bent-shaft canoe paddles with his son, Spencer, that many consider to be among the best in the world.

To help mark Canada’s centennial in 1967, Joe was part of a three-man crew that paddled a kayak from Edmonton to Montreal in forty days. The race, however, that still puts a glint in his eye and animation in his body is the 1964 Atikokan to Ely race. In 1964, Joe and Eugene Tetreault won the marathon race from Ely, Minnesota to Atikokan, and after a days rest, back to Ely. This race, which passed through the centre of Quetico Park, was one of the premier canoe races in the 1960’s. Ralph Sawyer called it the “ultimate canoe race” because it required day and night paddling, crossing a wilderness of lakes and rivers, and had numerous portages.

In 1964, the race involved paddling from Shagawa Lake in Ely to Atikokan, resting a day in Atikokan, and then returning to Ely. Racers could take any route they wanted but there was a route that virtually everyone used because it was believed to be the fastest route. Joe and Eugene, however, decided to shorten the normal route by cutting portages through a low, boggy area between Alice and Fern Lake. A combination of terrific paddling and their shorter but more difficult route brought Tetrault and Meany the victory in the 1964 race.

The legacy of that race lives on in Quetico. The southern portage they cut was named “Bonne Homme” Portage (French for “good man”) after Eugene Tetrault. The northern portage that leads to Fern Lake was named “Sauvage Portage” after Joe Meany. It was originally named “Maux Jit Sauvage” but it was shortened to “Sauvage Portage”. Unfortunately, only the name was changed, the portage remains as long as ever. Both portages are difficult to find, very long, bug-infested, and are knee deep in mud in places. There is a joy, however, in completing them and they do connect two beautiful lakes with seldom visited, scenic, small lakes between the two portages.

Joe has never lost his desire to paddle long distance, and in 1985 he kayaked with his friend Keith Burand around the southern half of Quetico. They paddled non-stop for 34 hours to cover the 200 kilometres and 27 portages. The legacy of Joe’s racing days is still evident in the paddling style of the portage crew who work in Quetico. The Quetico Park portage crew use the “hut stroke”. They steer by switching sides instead of using the j-stroke and, consequently, all their effort goes into forward motion. Many paddlers in Quetico recognize the portage crew from a distance because of their distinctive, efficient paddling style. Joe’s love of canoeing, love of Quetico, and his job as a Quetico Park Ranger were a perfect match.

Vera was always the main office worker, she kept the office running smoothly and efficiently. She also played a central role in helping others, my wife and I included, in dealing with the complexities of running a Ranger Station. She and Joe also raised two sons, and one former portage crew member told me that “Vera became a second mother to me”. A whole generation of young men and women working in Quetico as volunteers, Junior Rangers and portage crew describe Vera as their surrogate mother during their summers in the park. Providing meals for portage crew, volunteers, Junior Rangers and canoeists who happened to stop by when meals were being served, goes well beyond the job description for park station attendants. Vera, however, was always generous with her time, her advice and her food.

Vera was also renowned for her home remedies for a wide variety of ailments. These came in especially handy when a child living at a ranger station got sick and a doctor, or even medical advice, was hard to come by. Over the summers the Meanys were at Lac la Croix, Quetico Rangers got recipes for cough syrup made from onion juice, a cream for rash made from corn starch and lard, and a remedy for canker sores. One summer when we were at the Beaverhouse Ranger Station, we ran out of shampoo and Vera called us with a recipe for shampoo made out of mayonnaise, lemon juice, and dish detergent.

Joe and Vera made numerous improvements to the Lac la Croix Ranger Station and the surrounding structures. Their main addition was a log building made from red pine logs that Joe obtained from a variety of locations on Lac la Croix. Joe got permission to build a woodshed from park authorities and he then proceeded to build a log building with an attached woodshed. During the time Joe and Vera were at Lac la Croix, it was known as “Ranger Hall”. It functioned as a museum complete with a large number of photos and articles relevant to the history of the park.

Many canoeists made a point of seeing the Meany’s at Lac la Croix every summer. If they didn’t start or end their trip at Lac la Croix, they planned their trip with a stop to see the Meany’s as part of their itinerary. At Cache Bay and Prairie Portage Ranger Stations we periodically met people who were paddling long distances across Canada. It always seemed that they had either just had an extended visit with Joe and Vera or were on their way to see them because someone along the route had told them that the Rangers at Lac la Croix were people they “absolutely” had to see to make their trip complete.

Vera and Joe always had a large, well-used coffee pot and over the years many canoeists had a hot cup of coffee while describing aspects of their canoe trip while waiting for a towboat or a flight back to Crane lake. Joe and Vera especially enjoyed talking to people at the end of their trips when the days and nights in the park have mellowed people and made them eager to share their experiences. As to the multitudes of cups of coffee that have been consumed, Joe said that he had found that “when you give a cup, you get a pot back”.

When I talked to Joe and Vera the year before they retired, they wrote back and stated, “We take each year as it comes now, each year brings us closer to the time when we will have to leave the Lac la Croix station where we have spent so many memorable summers and have met so many wonderful people from around the world. It is our hope that after we leave the coffee pot will always be on, and the lamp in the window will remain lit for the inconvenienced visitor. We will miss the Ontario Ranger girls, the portage crew paddling in doing the “hut stroke” and the tow boats and aircraft bringing in new and old visitors to Quetico. But that time is not quite yet.”

Vera and Joe Meany at their house near Atikokan in July, 2006.

In 1996, their reign at the Lac la Croix Ranger station came to an end. The Meanys became part of the fabric of Quetico during their twenty four years at Lac la Croix. They are part of the Park Ranger tradition that includes people such as Bill Darby, Ted Dettbarn, Lloyd Rawn, Art Madsen, Bob and Evelyn Halliday, Mike and Priscilla O’Brien, Webb and Berniece Hyatt, and numerous others. The Quetico wilderness is indeed composed of men and women that are a match for the magnificent landscape they inhabit.

During the winter, all life under the ice has to adapt to conditions that are strikingly different from those found in the summer. In the summer, our lakes are layered with the warmest water on top and the coldest on the bottom. As you descend, the temperature slowly decreases until you reach the thermocline where there is a sharp drop in temperature. This invisible line separates the more productive waters that contain microscopic plants called phytoplankton from the much colder, darker areas below.

Ice on a Northern Ontario lake.

The thermocline is just below the surface in the spring and fall and drops to twenty-five feet or more in midsummer. Lake trout, burbot and a few other species of fish spend almost all their time below the thermocline and just enter the warmer waters for short periods to feed. They move up and down depending on the thermocline and even come to the surface when the temperature of the lake water is the same everywhere in late fall and early spring.

In winter, the water beneath the ice is also layered, but it is the opposite of what is found in the summer. This, and the unusual properties of ice, is due to the bizarre chemistry of water. Water is the most dense at 39 Fahrenheit (4 Celsius) and consequently the water at the bottom of deep lakes is this temperature regardless of the season. This causes a topsy-turvey world where the warmest water in the winter is on the bottom (39 F.) and the coldest water is just below the ice (32 F.) at the top. Consequently, a lake trout swimming at a depth of 80 feet in the summer is in the coldest water in the lake and the same lake trout swimming at the same depth in winter is still at the same 39 temperature but is now in the warmest water in the lake.

Anyone who has forgotten to add sufficient antifreeze to a vehicle or didn’t drain the plumbing at their cabin is well aware that ice expands as it freezes. Water is highly unusual in expanding, rather than contracting, as it goes from a liquid to a solid. If it acted like most compounds, ice would sink as it formed, and ice would be continuously forming at the surface and dropping to the bottom. This would cause lakes to freeze from the bottom up. Much ice would form and sink to the bottom on a -35 night in January.

Virtually all our lakes, with the possible exception of the deepest, largest lakes, would be solid ice by March. This would obviously be devastating to life in our lakes. Since ice forms on the top of the water, it puts an insulating layer between the water and the colder air above. This greatly slows the formation of more ice. The accumulation of snow on top of the ice adds another, and better, insulating layer. Even with these insulating layers, we can still get over three feet of ice. This is a strong testimony to the severity and length of our winters.

Ice and snow protect from the cold, but they also greatly decrease the amount of light entering the water. The combination of low light levels and low temperatures causes photosynthesis to virtually stop in the winter. Phytoplankton levels drop dramatically and, therefore, the production of oxygen virtually comes to a halt. The amount of oxygen that is in the water at freeze-up has to last until the ice-cover melts in the spring.

Fortunately, the colder water is, the more oxygen it holds. Once again the chemistry of water works to the advantage of living things. Water obtains oxygen from two main sources: the photosynthetic organisms growing in it (phytoplankton, algae and photosynthetic bacteria), and from direct contact with the air. Both contact with the air and light levels are dramatically reduced at freeze-up and consequently very little oxygen is added to water during the winter. This means that for almost half the year, fish and other oxygen-using organisms, have to get by on the oxygen present when the ice forms.

Since photosynthesis virtually stops, no more food is being made and the amount of food under the ice dwindles during the winter. It’s no wonder that many organisms cope with these conditions by slowing their metabolism. Cold-blooded reptiles and amphibians that overwinter under the ice survive by hibernating in the mud at the bottom of ponds or shallow bays of lakes. A frog meet its oxygen requirements by simply breathing through its skin. The skin’s large surface area allows it to remain stationary and still take up enough oxygen so it can survive a sleep of half the year.

Turtles meet their oxygen needs in a different way. They are also found at the bottom of shallow bays or ponds, but take in oxygen through their cloaca, the opening to their reproductive and excretory systems. They can do this because it is lined with a rich network of blood vessels that functions as a gill. Since lungs are specialized organs for breathing air, organisms like frogs and turtles have adapted other ways of absorbing oxygen from water.

Many microscopic organisms, such protozoa and rotifers, form protective shells known as cysts and remain in an inactive state until the water warms up in the spring. Water fleas and other small crustaceans produce thick walled eggs in late autumn and these survive through the winter and hatch in the spring.

Many fish also slow their metabolism in the winter. Species that spend most of the time in the warmer parts of the lake in the summer, such as largemouth bass, smallmouth bass, and walleyes, become much less active in colder water. This significantly lowers their requirements for both food and oxygen. They won’t increase their activity until the water warms in the spring.

Fish that spend most of the summer in the cold water below the thermocline continue to be active throughout the winter. Lake trout are the best-known species of fish that stays active all winter. They thrive in cold water and travel freely throughout the lake in the winter. Their metabolism remains high and they have to continue to seek out and catch minnows and small fish all winter long. Although the cold does not bother lake trout, the decreasing amounts of both its prey and oxygen levels can be a problem.

It would be interesting to know how lake trout hunt in the depths of the lake where there is little or no light. The deeper you go in the water, the less light penetrates. Even in very clear water lakes, light only penetrates to fifty feet or so, and below that it slowly fades to pitch black. Lake trout are caught by people fishing at depths where virtually no light penetrates. Even at shallow depths in winter, they have to capture prey in the very low light that penetrates through the snow and ice. How they accomplish this is one of the many unknowns concerning the winter ecology of our lakes.

Another fascinating cold-water species is the burbot. This unusual looking fish, also known as eelpout or lawyer, is a fresh water relative of the codfish. Burbot have been caught, along with lake trout, in nets at depths of over 400 feet in Lake Superior. They are active all winter and are often caught by people ice-fishing. Their eel-like shape, elongated fins and smooth skin probably account for their being discarded on the ice in spite of their excellent taste.

Whitefish and their smaller relative, ciscoes, are other fish that are active under the ice. Both are usually found below the thermocline in the summer, but often enter warmer water to feed. Ciscoes can be seen surfacing on still days in the summer, but can also be found at more than a hundred feet. Their wide-ranging travels are responsible for their being reported to be important summer food sources for both lake trout and burbot in deep water and loons near the surface.

The conditions faced by organisms beneath the ice is similar in many ways to those faced by organisms at the bottom of the snow pack, in the pukak. The temperatures are constantly just a few degrees from the freezing point, it is either pitch black or with dim, filtered light, and the food source is constantly dwindling. Just like organisms in the pukak, they have met these conditions in diverse and inovative ways.

It is a real challenge for cold blooded animals like fish, reptiles and amphibians to survive the cold conditions under the ice, but there are also a few mammals that enter the water under the ice. A thick coat is obviously needed to survive our winters and animals that enter the water need coats that are waterproof as well as exceptionally warm. Water siphons heat from the body much more rapidly than air and it is extremely difficult for mammals to maintain their body temperature in cold water.

Beavers and muskrats spend most of the winter in their lodges huddled together for warmth. The insides of beaver lodges, insulated with mud and sticks, is many degrees warmer than the outside air. They spend much time grooming and keeping their fur well oiled. They have to enter the water to retrieve food that they have stored in a food cache next to their lodge. Even short immersions in the icy-cold water are enough to put a strain on their systems.

Beaver and muskrat have an unusual metabolic tactic that increases the time that they can spend in the water under the ice. They elevate their body temperature slightly just prior to entering the water and this gives them a few more minutes before their body temperature drops too far. Researchers have also shown that muskrats obtain oxygen from air bubbles trapped under the ice and presumably beavers do the same. Beaver and muskrat also have physiological adaptions that decrease the amount of heat loss when they are in cold water. In their feet and at the base of their tails they have a network of capillaries where the arterial blood flowing toward the extremities passes in close contact with the blood in the veins returning from the extremities. The arteries give up heat to the colder blood returning from the feet and tail. This warms the blood returning to the body and cools the blood going to the extremities. This allows them to maintain a higher core body temperature and their cooler extremeties lose less heat to the water.

Land animals, such as lynx and bobcat, also have a heat exchange system in their feet. This allows them to lose less heat to the cold snow they stand and walk on. They carefully avoid, however, getting their feet wet in the winter. Most other mammals also avoid getting wet, since wet fur loses most of its insulating value. There are exceptions: both mink and otter enter the water in the winter to hunt their prey. When I snowshoe along the French River in the northeast corner of Quetico, I often see otter tracks along the river. Their tracks clearly show that they swim for stretches in the open water and come out and travel along the shore where the river is iced over. I am amazed that an animal can come out of the water in sub-freezing temperatures and travel over land in a wet fur coat. Two special adaptions enable them to do so. They have extremely dense and oily underfur that is both warm and sheds water. They also have outer guard hairs that are hollow for additional insulation, and that interlock with each other to protect the underfur.

Otters have a streamlined body that, with extremely short ears, short legs and heavily furred tail, is also designed to minimize heat loss. Because of their short legs, they have to plow through the snow on land and leave a distinctive trough in their wake. It seems appropriate that this toboggan-shaped animal sides on its belly whenever possible.

The late biologist Olaus Murie, in his interesting and informative book “A Field Guide to Animal Tracks” recalled that he “…was snowshoeing up a small stream when I spied movement in the snowy stream bank up ahead. I realized that it was an otter, and the next moment it slid down the bank. Another one appeared, clambered up the bank and slid down. A third appeared from the hole in the ice, and for several moments I watched these frolicsome animals, climbing, sliding, climbing, sliding, over and over again – until all disappeared under the ice. Their playtime was over, and they all went on their way beneath the ice, as so often they do.”

I have never observed otters playing in the winter but I have seen otter slides in various places in Quetico. There is usually one into the water below the rapids from Quetico to Beaverhouse Lake. Otter slide down the hill adjacent to the portage directly into the fast water that remains ice-free year around.

The docks at both the Canada Customs and the Ranger Station at Prairie Portage were always covered with otter droppings when we arrived in the spring the years we were rangers at Prairie Portage. The open water below the rapids is a prime location for otter to hunt fish and crayfish in the winter. They obviously found the docks a convenient place to come out of the water, bask in the sun and relieve themselves. Beaver and muskrat huddle together for warmth in insulated lodges when they return from the water. Otters, on the other hand, are mainly solitary creatures in the winter and don’t have a primary lodge to return to. They evidently commonly use old beaver lodges for dwellings. They must consume a great deal of food in the winter in order to maintain their active lifestyle and stay warm.

To do this they seek out prey both in open water and under the ice all winter long. They have successfully adapted to our extreme winter conditions both in and out of the water by taking an extremely active and aggressive approach to winter.

When I first came to the Boundary Waters I was mainly interested in going canoeing and seeing a new landscape very different from the farm country where I grew up in southern Minnesota. I kept coming back primarily because of the wildlife and it is still thrilling to see moose, wolves, otters, bald eagles, ospreys and loons. I also enjoyed seeing walleyes and lake trout, but I only sought them out when it was time to eat.

My interests expanded as I spent more time in Quetico and other people caused me to see things from a different perspective. Quetico Park has been blessed with many terrific naturalists and I was strongly influenced by Shan Walshe and Shirley Peruniak. They were both working in Quetico when Marie and I started as Park Rangers at Beaverhouse Lake in 1976. Shirley is interested in the human history of Quetico and her enthusiasm and knowledge got me hooked on wanting to learn more about Quetico’s past. Shan Walshe inspired me, along with thousands of other people with whom he came into contact, to want to learn more about plants and their role in the environment. I enjoyed learning how to identify many common plants in Quetico, but I was the most impressed with the trees, especially big, old trees. I remember being shocked to encounter cedars much larger than I thought existed on the Emerald to Plough Portage. It is also interesting to come across trees that seem out of place. The bur oak along Have A Smoke Portage and the silver maples and American elms along the levees of the Wawiag are delightfully eccentric.

Large, mature white pines on McNiece Lake.

It was, however, the sight of an entire lake surrounded by old-growth white and red pines that had the strongest impression on me. I first saw these trees about twenty years ago when I took a trip north of Prairie Portage and last summer I was determined to return to McNiece to see these trees again. That is why I was standing in line at Prairie Portage with my wife, Marie, and our friends Andy and Paula Hill waiting for the Ranger Station to open in the second week of August of last year. I recall working on the inside of that building about twenty years ago and looking out at the line forming well before 8:00. Now they open later so I guess for an August morning we were fortunate in that the line was relatively short. A light very rain was falling and we were eager to be on our way.

The paddle across Bailey Bay was hard since we were quartering into a wind that was gradually increasing. It was a nice break from paddling to do the flat, easy portage to Burke Lake. The rain increased in intensity and I could feel the water slowly wicking its way up my sleeves as I paddled. Prolonged, intense rain always finds a way down your neck and spreads out from there. I figured by the time we stopped to make camp the water moving up my arms should meet the water moving down from my neck.

We stopped for lunch at the end of the portage into North Bay at a nice protected spot where overhead trees kept most of the rain off of us. We were headed to South Lake so we were able to take advantage of the islands to provide some relief from the wind. The paddle through the lilly pads that grow in profusion in the creek leading to South Lake is always a joy. There was just enough water to allow us to keep paddling except in one place where we had to get out and walk the canoes.

One of these years I’m going to spend some time exploring West Lake but once again we just quickly passed through on our way to supper and dry clothes. Afterpaddling a short distance past the portage coming out of West Lake, Marie noticed a pair of small, pink water lilies. Don’t think I’ve ever seen a pink water lily before. We decided to find a campsite on Shade Lake and after much looking we found an unoccupied one. It hadnít stopped raining since we left Prairie Portage, so we weren’t fussy, we simply needed a site with two tent pads. Andy has guided for many years and his expertise in dealing with setting up camp and preparing supper in the rain was appreciated since I have a tendency under adverse conditions to simply eat granola bars and get in the tent. The tarp came in handy and with a fire we were able to dry ourselves and our clothes, eat a hot meal, drink hot coffee and go to bed dry and contented.

The next morning, we woke to the sound of no rain. It was a spectacular morning with blue skies, light winds and cool temperatures. I remember having trouble on a previous trip on the portage from the unnamed lake west of Shade Lake to Grey Lake. It is as confusing now as it was then. There are two beginnings and a confusing intersection about halfway across the portage. If you began on the trail farthest west then you need to take a right at the intersection. Compasses do come in handy sometimes. There are many large white pines on Grey, Armin and Yum Yum Lakes but on Shan Walshe Lake they dominate the forest. As much as Shan loved mature forests and the plants they contain he had an even greater love of wet, boggy places. I hoped that nestled in behind the pines are some interesting swamps and bogs.

The last portage to McNiece passes through large cedars and pines and some of them have very old blazes on them. On McNiece, we were fortunate to find the high rocky campsite that looks west down the lake was unoccupied. We spent two nights at this site and did some fishing and a lot of walking in the woods. After we had set up camp we talked to two people who paddled by looking for a campsite. One of them, Pat Bergman, had worked with Marie at the Outward Bound School in Ely, Minnesota in the late 1960ís.

Mature white pines are the dominant species on McNiece but there are also many mature red pines. It was heartening to see numerous younger white and red pines scattered throughout, including many just a few years old. They were especially prevalent where large trees had fallen and left an opening in the canopy that allowed sunlight to reach the forest floor. White pine seedlings need a lot of sunlight in order to prosper and they are usually out-competed by balsam fir and spruce in shaded areas. Consequently, there are many balsam fir and spruce in the understory and they dominate the understory in many places.

Paula Hill admiring a very large white white pine.

We found white pines up to 3. 5 feet in diameter and there are thousands and thousands of white pine over 2. 5 feet in diameter. We were hoping to find the mother of all white pine but, more importantly, we found a healthy old-growth stand of white and red pine.

The shoreline of McNiece Lake seen through a fog filter at sunrise.

We decided to get up early on the second morning to take photos of pines in the early morning light and were extremely lucky to wake up to thick fog. What a thrill it was to paddle around the lake and take photos of giant pines appearing out of the mist. Hundreds of years ago, much of northern Minnesota and Ontario had pines like this and it was like seeing the past through a fog filter.

We didn’t spend all our time looking at old-growth.  Andy and Paula love to fish,

Andy Hill sitting around an evening campfire.

 which is terrific since all four of us love eating fish. Our days were full and we spent three glorious bug free, August evenings drinking “Quetico cocktails”, watching the sunset and solving the major world problems. It is hard to beat sharing one of the great places in the world with good friends. 

We decided to return to Basswood via Kahshapiwi , Side and Isabella Lakes. At the beginning of the portage out of McNiece Lake  we had the pleasant experience of encountering Scott Wentzell, a son-in-law of Shan Walshe. He and his brothers had started their trip at French Lake and were on their way to Shan Walshe Lake. It was surprising to encounter two groups with people that we know on a lake that is not heavily used.

Two of the portages that we did on our return trip; McNiece to Kahshapiwi and from the bottom of Side Lake southwest to an unnamed lake, made me realize that I, like the pines on McNiece Lake, may have evolved from being mature to being slightly over-mature. The first portage is simply long and has a good hill in to make sure you understand that it is a special portage. The other one must have the most brutal hill in Quetico, or at least that is the way I felt when I finally reached the top. It was good to get back to Prairie Portage, especially after once again crossing Bailey Bay quartering into a strong wind.

Looking back, McNiece Lake seems to be in the centre of a very large stand of old-growth white and red pines since the concentration of these pines increases as you approach the lake and decreases as you move away. Cliff Ahlgren in Lob Trees in the Wilderness states that this is not an illusion and it is what remains of much larger stand of pines. “By 1890, most of the stateís remaining tall pine was limited to the Arrowhead region of northeastern Minnesota, including the border lakes country. The tall pines extended in an irregular band north, east and west of Duluth. On large finger of tall pine reached into the central portion of the present BWCA, with the fingers tip ending in the Quetico, less than ten miles north of Basswood Lake. ” The finger extends a few miles north of McNiece Lake.

The decline in numbers of eastern White Pine over the last two hundred years has been astounding. At the beginning of the 1800’s, white pine was a common, and, in many places, the dominant tree species from Newfoundland in the east to the southeast corner of Manitoba in the west; and from Georgia in the south to the shores of Lake Nipigon in northern Ontario. Dr. William Carmean, professor emeritus of forestry at Lakehead University in Thunder Bay, stated that ìin the early 1800ís, someone could have travelled from the St Lawrence Valley in eastern Canada all the way to the centre of the continent and virtually never been out of sight of magnificent old pines”.

Although the numbers of mature white and red pine have decreased greatly for hundreds of years, they now have many ardent and vocal supporters. The white pine, in particular, has become a symbol of the wilderness in many people’s minds. A forester for the Ministry of Natural Resources in Thunder Bay, Ontario has stated that “to say you are going to cut a white pine these days is about the equivelent of saying you are going to murder your mother. This is not just another species with a problem”.

Numerous studies have shown that mature white and red pines also play significant and diverse ecological roles. A study by the U. S. Forest Service showed that “when female black bears go off in search of food for their cubs, they invariably leave the cubs within a few meters of an old white pine if one is available”. Evidently the deeply fissured bark of a large white pine is the easiest for the cubs to climb if they need to avoid predators. Another study in the Superior National Forest found that approximately 80% of both bald eagles and ospreys build their nests in crowns of old white pines. They obviously seek out these old pines since less than 1% of the mature trees in the Superior National Forest are pines. Even standing dead trees play an important role in the environment. The variety of insects that infest these trees are important sources of food for woodpeckers and other birds. They also serve as nesting sites for a variety of cavity-nesting birds. 

Dead trees, such as this decaying white pine on the north side of McNiece Lake, provide habitats for numerous species of decomposers and the organisms that feed on them.

Researchers investigating the canopies of large trees in the Amazon rain forest and in the mature conifers in Washington, Oregon and British Columbia have found thriving ecological communities in the canopies. They have identified new species of insects, birds, fungus and lichens. It seems inevitable that fascinating discoveries will also be found in the canopies of large stands of old-growth pines in the boreal forest also.

The pines in the McNiece Lake area survived because of their location in an area that the loggers didnít reach before the logging restrictions, and, for some reason, they havenít burned. The logging of white and red pines helped to fuel the economies of the many places, including Minnesota and Ontario, where these pines were common. Both species declined dramatically primarily because of logging but have stayed in decline for many complex reasons that include disease, silvaculture practices and disease. The dead tops on white pines are the “flag” that indicates that white pine blister rust has infected many of the white pines in Quetico and the BWCAW.

Fire can obviously destroy large stands of mature pines but it also is the force that is responsible for the success of white, red, and jack pine forests. Miron Heinselman in The Boundary Waters Wilderness Ecosystem stated that “White pine and red pine can persist without fire for up to 350 and possibly even 400 years for occasional individuals, but without a fire that creates favourable conditions for stand renewal, most stands will eventually be replaced by balsam and spruce as the old pines die.” I couldnít find any records of coring to determine the ages of the pines in the stand around McNiece. We found white pines that were over three and half feet in diameter and there are literally thousands of white pines in the stand that are over three feet in diameter. Based on ages of white pines obtained from coring data, these pines must be well over three hundred years old.

There are many red and white pines in various age classes in the understory around McNiece Lake. There are also, however, many balsam and spruce growing in the shadows of the giant pines. This appears to be a stand that is gradually becoming more diverse as the number of non-pine trees increases. On the other hand, the mature white and red pines seem to be ageing gracefully and many pines, both white and red, are in position to replace them.

It is impossible to predict how much longer the old-growth pines will dominate in the McNiece Lake area. It is a distressing to realize that in the foreseeable future, the magnificent stand of old-growth white and red pines on McNiece Lake will be gone. The trees will not be lost not to the chainsaw or the axe but to the inevitable ravages of time. I remember portaging up a long hill on the northern edge of Mack Lake on the way to Munro Lake in the eastern part of Quetico Park in 1996 and being amazed at how few trees had survived the 1995 fire. The fire raced up the hill through many old-growth white pine burning almost everything in its path. The only trees that were still alive were some of the large, old-growth white pine.

They were blackened and had fire scars along their bases but were still alive because of their thick, fire-resistant bark and branches that remained above the fire. I havenít been back since but these trees probably acted as sources of seeds to the open, nutrient rich ground below. In the past, before fire suppression was so successful, this was how a new pine forest began. William Carmean has written that “old-growth forest management involves more than merely reserving scattered old-growth forest stands. For white and red pine we must also be concerned with regenerating new pine forests, and with the recognition and protection of mid-age pine forests. These newly regenerated areas, and these mid-age forests, thus can become the old-growth forests of the future that will inevitably be naturally harvested by insects, disease and fire.” Fortunately, both Quetico and the BWCAW have stands of middle-aged white and red pines that will be the old-growth for future generations of canoeists.

In retrospect, my reasons for canoeing in Quetico haven’t changed all that much over the decades. I originally came primarily to see large birds and mammals and on the McNiece Lake trip I wanted to see large trees. What is becoming obvious, even to a slow learner like myself, is that what I am really looking for is wildlife in the larger sense: mammals, birds, amphibians, trees, orchids, lichens, and fungi in a natural setting. In Quetico we can find all of this set in a wild landscape of cliffs, waterfalls, pictographs, bogs, creeks, rivers and lakes. No wonder I keep coming back.