Cabin #4 - From 1948 to present

Back in 1948, my Grandfather built the first half of Cabin 4.  It was a small cabin made from logs and shiplap pine lumber with parts of the inside, plastered by some guy he hired.   Like all of our other cabins, it had no indoor plumbing but for a sink drain.  For running water, you needed to run to the well by the lake with a bucket and hand pump your own.  For restroom needs, Cabin 4 shared the outhouse with Cabins 5, 2, and our house/Office on that side of the Jasper Creek.  One time, as modern things began to creep into life in the northwoods, resort guests began to request crazy stuff like indoor plumbing.  One guy, opened the door and asked my grandpa with a room full of lodge guests present, if our resort offered indoor plumbing. My grandpa, never one to mince words, yelled at the man that we are “civilized and not pigs –  We S**T outside!”  That guy didn’t stay.  After my dad built Cabin 7 when he was 17 and added a flush toilet and everybody wanted to rent it, Grandpa decided that indoor plumbing might not be so bad. 

Later in life, Grandpa added on a small front porch on Cabin 4 but then passed away with the porch unfinished.   Upon his passing, my dad finished the small front porch when I was a little kid.  I remember his  exasperation with the odd-sized, unfinished little addition.  In trying to modernize by moving away from the outhouses and having plumbing with running water inside of pipes,  my dad sectioned up the little porch and stuffed a shower, a ¾ size lavatory and a regular toilet in a room that was a mere door’s thickness from the kitchen table.  Even as a kid I thought that being able to sit at the dining room table and open the bathroom door and then shake hands with the guy sitting on the porcelain throne was a bit awkward.   We rented Cabin 4 like that for many years and nobody seemed to mind.    Many of our customers would request that cabin for years to come. 

Back in 1998, I decided that the little dining room/bathroom was coming off.  With the help of my employee Curt, I tore that little wing off.  I’ll never forget a plaster wall that served as the base for  a small counter top and my trying to remove it.  It was plastered by a mad man that my grandpa hired.  A mad plasterer of sorts   One inch and thicker plaster covered a heavy mesh and logs.  It was  darn near impossible to smash out of there.  I wrecked a couple of sawzall blades when I finally brought in a 12 pound sledgehammer and began tenderizing it.  I took out that wall in crumbs and slivers.

I ended up adding my first ever, all-by-myself, addition to a cabin.   I made the room a lot bigger, added a bathroom that you could turn around in with much better lighting.  I used big windows in the living area.  I also added a sky-light to the roof for some natural light and then paneled the entire room in native knotty pine I bought from a John Latola on the Iron Range.   Outside, I built a wrap-around deck that would fit a picnic table.  Cabin #4, because of its size and layout is now our most rented cabin. 

The fun part for me in this cabin is the 50 year span.  Built in 1948 by my grandpa and then remodeled by me in 1998. I attempted to meld the 1948 portion to the new wing so there was a seamless transition of logs meeting stick construction and it seems to have worked. 

Best part is that it in 2014, it’s still standing and still level.  Numerous Northwind Lodge guests have stayed in this cabin and request it every year.

In remodeling the cabin, for lack of knowing what to do with it, I turned a bedroom window into a curio cabinet of sorts.   There was nothing in it but I figured people could use it for personal effects as there are never enough places to put stuff in small cabins in the woods.  This window shelf took on an interesting  twist as a lot of our guests began leaving notes and little ditties behind – mementos of remembrance for others to see.  Things they brought, bought, had, or wrote ended up behind the glass.  The oddest thing left in window-turned cabinet  was a couple of .357 caliber live rounds – hollow points, no less.  (I pulled those)  Meanwhile, the figurines change all by themselves as I believe they come and go from year to year.

Cabin 4 was remodeled to accommodate our winter cross country ski business back in the day when we cut, maintained and groomed about 15 mlies of ski trails.  I designed the wing to be able to accommodate a  wood stove as all our winter cabins needed the extra heat.  The first year with brand new carpeting, a guy and his wife stayed there for a weekend. On Sunday, after he checked out at 8 AM and went skiing on the trails for few more clicks before they left, he told me he cleaned out the wood stove.  Years of experience taught us to NEVER allow any guests to clean out a woodstove, ever so other than a poker, there were no shovels or fireplace tools available.  He casually said as a parting thought that he put all the ashes from the woodstove in a Zup's paper grocery bag and set it on the floor by the door before they went skiing.  His car didn't make it out of the yard before I made it to Cabin 4 on foot.  When I got there, I picked up the bag and the hot coals burned right through the paper and landed in a pile where the bottom of the bag was.  It only burned a 6" X 8" hole through the brand new carpeting into the subfloor.  Fortunately, the bag didn't flare up and light the wall on fire and if nothing else cause a bunch of smoke damage.  A lifetime of moments like these has developed my more cynical side about people, I must say. 

Cabin 4’s popularity with two double beds and one twin bed in two bedrooms,  makes it a little harder to reserve but if your schedule is flexible, there are plenty of openings in the early/later parts of summer.   June is a nice month for those seeking cooler temps, high water, and really blue skies.  The fishing’s pretty good then as well for primarily bigger largemouth and small mouth bass along with ferocious northern pike and the occasional walleye.  June is also a good month for spotting moose both on Jasper Lake and along the Fernberg road on your way out to Northwind Lodge.  We've had a cow and calf spotted on Jasper and down the road from us in Fall 2013.  There are not a lot of them, but they are here.   Mid-August and later see less people and very temperate days.  The fish will be biting then, too.  But you’ll see lots of sunnies and bass with more developed weed beds than in June.  

Late in the season in 2013, we added new mattresses to Cabin 4.  Nothing is more popular than sleeping  on a comfy bed next to Jasper Creek.   Cabins 2, 6, 4, 3, and 8 all hear Jasper Creek as it pours ts way through the resort property.  We are always amused buy our new lodge guests who over-sleep and wake up all confused.  Most think that it’s raining outside so they roll over and go back to sleep.  When they finally crawl out of bed and are greeted by sunshine and blue skies, it dawns on them that they were duped.  With the exception of one woman who asked my mom years ago if we could turn the water off at night (we really can’t), everyone seems to take the authentic white noise in stride.  It is one of the most beautiful sound barriers that exists and you can only find one at Northwind Lodge.  Our water fall is perhaps the most photographed set of falls in the region.  

Staying at Northwind Lodge is not just a place to sleep, it’s more of an experience that can’t be found on any electronic gadget.  To live next to the creek on Jasper Lake for a week is an experience that few have ever had.   It does not exist at any other resort in the Ely area.  Our lodge guests have loved, enjoyed and daydreamed alongside Jasper Creek forever. 

Northwind Lodge Website

Rescue on Hula - Epilogue

Nick and I compared some notes after this happy ending to that adventure. 

1. In Nicks’ expert assessment, he thought that given the condition we found the two men and the way they were barely moving,  had we waited until morning to begin the search, we would have needed to bring body bags. 
2. While I was asleep next to the fire, Nick talked to the guys to see what happened.  Ats it turns out, they were both in the canoe and standing up.  A massive gust of wind swooped in and knocked them both clean out of the canoe into the water.  They latched on the side of the canoe but could neither stand, nor swim in the shallow water and endless mud bottom of Hula.
3. They actually fell in at 6 PM.  They could hear Ted yelling for them but the wind was so strong, and they so tired, they were hidden in the waves and ineffective in yelling back to Ted.  It took them more than two hours of sliding the canoe forward in the water/mud to get to where they ended up. At one point the canoe overturned.  They lost all their gear.  
4. Under their raincoats, they both wore wool underwear – not cotton – and we theorized that the wood contributed to their being alive as wool insulates even when wet.  They were muddy from head to toe.
5. They struggled to pull the canoe far up the rock because they were terrified that the wind would take it away.  Once on top of the rock, they were so cold and tired, they tried to get out of the wind by gong over the edge of the hill.  Nick surmised that they were hallucinating at that point because the little guy said they tried to light a fire but the grass was green and would not burn.   It was May 17 – there was no green grass on that rocky hill.
6.  At that point, it was pitch black, they were exhausted and both fell asleep while trying to breath into their rain jackets to conserve body heat.   It turns out that Nick and I had just barely woken them up.   The little guy thought he was dreaming when he heard us yelling and almost didn't respond.
7. Nick  thought  if we’d been an hour later, that would have meant the end for a least the big guy.
8. In retrospect, I’ve kicked myself for not going with the wind and into the rough water which would have accounted for their drifting direction.  We would have found them much earlier with a counter clockwise rotation on Hula.  
9. I’ve maintained hope for many years that I would never have to do this again. Fate has kindly cooperated with me, thus far.  But the next time I have to go on a rescue , we’re going into the rough water first.

Once this story got out, I had several parties call me and ask to hire me to go in to  find a group of boy scouts up on the Echo Trail, find a young couple on Insula,  get a message to someone on Knife Lake.  I had to apologize and refuse.   "Joe Baltich - Rescue for Hire" LOL! That’s really not my line of work.

Rescue on Hula - Part 5 - Do You Have Cigarette?

So, continue going clockwise we went.  Shining at the rocky shoreline with more jackpines now on the eastern shores of Hula.  As we moved further away from the northwest corner, the wind which never really left , made sure we knew it was there.  Further on down the shore,  Nick was shining low and high,  when he said excitedly, “HEY, what’s that?!”.  About 8 feet straight up the side of a rock wall and laying on top, he just barely spotted the end of the canoe.  For visibility and in case someone stole our canoes. We painted a big red stripe around one end.  Nick saw the red color and then the very hard to see end of the canoe.  Somebody put it there.  It didn’t climb that rock by itself.  We quickly went to shore and climbed that rock wall.

At the top, was the canoe, right side up, with a little water in it but scrubbed completely clean and shiny.  The paddles lay on the ground and there was nothing else.  No gear, no nothing except for on the stern.  Tied to the canoe was a stringer with 6 average northern pike on it and most of them were alive with the cold temperature and they were outside of the canoe laying on the light green reindeer moss.

We looked at each other and wondered what the heck is going on?  No blood, no tracks on the rocks, fish still tied to the canoe, canoe scrubbed clean. The wind continued to howl at our backs as if it was angry with us for the prior hours spent in the darkness looking at floating stumps.  Now, I’m getting angry.  It’s 2 AM, we’re in the rain and snow,  the wind refuses to cut us a break, and we have a canoe and no bodies – live or dead.

I’d now been up since 6:30 AM the day before,  and my adrenaline supply is starting to show some cracks.  I told Nick if these dumbbells tried to walk out of here, we’re gonna find them tomorrow and they will be dead for sure.   We’re in the middle of nowhere in the most inhospitable terrain and they’ve disappeared into the woods, I thought.   Not really knowing which way to go, the natural way was forward towards the deeper woods.  Nick said, we should try yelling, so we did.  When we yelled,  the wind rushing forward carried our voices and it was like yelling into a black hole.  After about 5 minutes of yelling, I’m so exhausted that I’m also getting creeped out by this adventure.  There was no response and the hill we were on dropped off about 50 feet ahead of us into more trees and nothingness.   What happened to these guys?  Then, in our dying flashlights, we saw a slight movement ahead.

There was a guy in a raincoat looking dazed and confused who stood up in front of us.  I think Nick was a little spooked too, because neither one of us budged, but we yelled for that guy to come towards the light. At first, he just stood there not moving. Finally, he took a stumbling step forward towards us. Then behind him a big guy came forward out of the darkness.  He looked like a zombie.  He was pale, hunched over and walking like, well, a zombie.  He had no expression on his face, and did not look well.

The first thing the little guy said with urgency in his thick accent was “Hi!!! Do you have cigarette?!!!?”

I burst out laughing and said “Cigarette?!  No!  How about a can of pop and some beef jerky.  You must be dehydrated and pretty hungry!”   He said, “Oh, OK.  That vould be good, too.”

Huge sigh of relief by us!!!!  These were our guys!!!  Mikhail (the short one with a beard) and  Hrzckzc, (the big zombie).   Our adventure was not yet over.  These guys were both appeared to be in trouble.

We took them back to the spot below the hill’s edge from where they came to get them out of that friggin’ wind.  We sat them down and began to snap off dead jackpine branches quickly and by the armload.  In  the BWCA, nobody who visits there ever leaves their campsites.  That means there are vast untouched resources in non-designated areas.  Lots of dry, hot-burning  jackpine branches were easy to find hanging right on the trees.  While I was lighting the fire, Nick radioed in and let Dispatch know that we found our guys.  Dispatch called my dad and he told the women in Cabin 6.   It was now 2:30 AM.

We had a really hot, large, very illegal fire.   I thought my raincoat was going to melt so I moved back about 5 feet.   I was hoping that the US Forest Service would swoop in and try to give me a ticket so I could stuff these guys on a Beaver and fly them out of there.  No luck.  We were on our own.

Mikhail and Hrzckzc sat next to the fire and warmed up.  Under their rain coats, they were soaking wet.  They both began to undress by the hot fire in the sheltered spot to dry their clothing out.  While the little guy was drying his stuff, he began to warm up and I got to see the reverse of hypothermia take place.  He began to shiver violently and so did Hrzckzc.  At one point, the little guy  said “Look at my stomach.  It is shaking and I can’t stop it.”  Finally after about 15 minutes of shaking he began to calm down and then the shakes were all gone.  Then he backed-up from the fire as well.

I was having a problem staying awake and told Nick.  He said that he had just begun his shift only an hour before this night began, "so go ahead and catch some sleep".  I conked out next to the fire and slept like a rock until daylight cracked.  Nick woke me up at 5:30 and said we were going to get going.  I would have much rather stayed by the fire since the temperature dropped to 26 degrees and the wind still didn’t stop.

We crossed the lake and the Hula portage and when we hit Wood Lake, the wind chewing on my high hand of the paddle wanted me to know that I was alive.  Whatta bite it was!  It was absolutely miserable in the early morning.  We still needed to find Ted who had spent the night in a tent with two kind strangers.  Ted had no idea if even we survived.  When we rounded that corner the night before, that was the last he saw of us.  When we made their campsite that frosty morning, Ted heard us and popped out of the tent fully dressed like we left him the night before. The look of relief on his face was very evident.  Poor guy was in the dark all night.

More paddling and we finally all made it back to the Wood Lake portage and Ted grabbed my arm to make me stop and said, “Joe, whatever cost for being late is – I pay it.  Thank you!”   

I said, “Ted, you don’t know how happy I am that we found your guys and got them home!  We don’t charge for legitimate accidents.  This was a legitimate accident.”  Nonetheless, Ted bought me a bottle of some very expensive scotch.  I kept if for many years but finally gave it to a friend who appreciates the liquor.  The sentiment would last me forever.

Rescue on Hula - Part 4 - Can We Get You Anything?

I kept us on course for another 300 yards and told Nick to turn on his light and shine the shore on his left.  There, but 50 feet in front of us, was the little outlaw portage that puts us into the bay that leads to the Hula Portage with a lot less paddling.   We were now out of the wind as it raged overhead, and we could hear the frogs again.  There were absolutely no bugs of any kind as fortunately is the case with many Mays in our neck of the woods.  Heavy mosquitoes would have made it all the more exciting.

We got out, slid the canoe over the 20’ piece of rock and mud and reloaded.  As we headed due north on the now sheltered bay with no raging waters, Nick gave me the “talk”.

"Joe, you know,” he began slowly, “You and your dad have been doing this for your entire lives and your resort has never, ever had an accident or fatality.  What I’m trying to say is that you need to prepare yourself for when that time comes, because, after 40 years, sooner or later, it is going to catch up with you.  It’s not your fault, but the odds grow more against you with every passing day.”

"Yeah, I know, Nick, “  I replied.  “I’ve been dreading a night like this for years now.  Maybe we’ll get lucky, but it’s not looking too good.”

“Yeah” he replied and we continued pushing that canoe forward as fast as we could. Our arms were tired out from that last whitecap section but the temptation to take a break was fleeting. Our minds unrelentingly forced us to continue forward at full speed.

Finally, we hit the Hula portage at the very end of the bay. It was now 12:30 PM.   Nick got out and radioed in our location and the nice lady at Dispatch asked if she “could get us anything?”   Nick said “No, not where we are at” and that he’d call in later.   Nick chuckled and said that he’s pretty sure she had "absolutely no clue as to where we are at this very minute".  I laughed and asked him to request  a helicopter with some really strong lights.  I flipped the canoe on my shoulders  and up the trail we went, heading further north on the short, 40 rod, Hula portage.

We made it to the landing of Hula and the water from Wood Lake is pouring loudly in at the creek on about 50 feet west of our position.  We decide to yell into the darkness to see if there is anybody out there.  Nothing. No lights, no noise, just the wind out on the water and the full creek roaring.  The wind howled overhead and a bluster of snowflakes lit up as they fell through our flashlight beams.  We put the canoe on the water and headed down the short creek passageway to the open area of Hula.

We made it to more open terrain and the image in front of us made my heart fall out of me and into the water.  There was a large, silver arc reflecting back at us in both our flashlights, about 17 feet long.  It looked like the silver canoe on it’s side with the top of the gunwale facing us as a macabre marker.    I began making notes in my head about how I going to hold it all together when I saw dead bodies floating alongside and we had to pull them over the side into the canoe.  I was literally telling myself I had to be strong to get these guys home.  Nick was going to need every bit of my help.  The voice in my head got louder and I think Nick could feel it resonating from within me.  Being 15 feet in front of me, Nick  confirmed it first, and quickly.

“It’s a tree!  It’s a birch tree that a beaver cut down!  Not a canoe!”

My stomach went back to where my stomach belongs about 14 inches below my neck. I caught my breath with relief.  Damn beavers!

But now that we know this IS NOT the canoe;  where THE HELL is it! Our night was just beginning.

We made it to the first and only actual point on that tiny spit of a lake called Hula.  I told Nick we should head clockwise to see if they managed to get out of the northwest wind by heading that direction and using the northwest corner of the shoreline for cover.  Nick agreed and that’s the way I turned the bow of the canoe.  

We moved along every inch of that water, checking out every single deadhead in that lake.  Being part of the water trail that logs were floated down at the turn of the century when the entire BWCA was clear cut for shoring timber, there are  a lot of deadheads floating in Hula.  In the darkness, they all look like a guy clinging to a tree stump.  It’s not a pleasant sight on a search and rescue mission and rather unnerving at times.  We checked every last one as per Nick saying we had to do that.  I didn’t argue.  He’d been on far more search and rescues than me.

As we moved along the shore, we shined on the water,  inland, and even up the hills.  Every now and then,  snow that escaped the wind roaring above the treeline would lightly fall in the glare of our flashlights.   If we weren’t looking out for lost humans, it would have been fun.   I put my glasses in my pocket long ago and was still able to see quite well for the most part, but Nick was the “eyes” of the operation.   I mentioned that our lights were just about on their last legs and we’d need to fall on the last backup light I brought along in the pack.   All the while, we're both wondering where these guys went with their canoe.  They could have left Hula and headed into Wood Lake and be on the far end in Hidden Bay with a rolled canoe. They could have crossed into Good Lake. We sure weren't finding any sign of them on Hula.

Along the northern shore of Hula where the portage leads out to Good Lake 150 rods over the hill, Nick marveled at how far up the shore the beavers go to knock down trees.  We approached the Hula river as it heads out to Wind Bay of Basswood and it is impassable.  The water was high and we could hear it roaring ahead.  I told Nick if these guys when this way tonight, they’ll be dead by morning because the temperature had really begun to drop.  We weren’t going in there to find them – at least not in the dark.

Rescue At Hula - Part 3 - Wet Motorola

The wind was tearing in from the northwest and so was the rain and snow.  Northwest winds on  Wood Lake always are more brutal than others because of the long, open run it has on the shallow lake.  They pile up and whitecap and because of the lake’s layout, they hit the direct broadside of the canoe with every single roller.  In order to avoid swamping requires planning your route on the fly and rolling with the rollers.  Fortunately, we were not heavily loaded and floating high, so I just charged us out into the lake and kept an eye trying to move the canoe quickly as whitecaps would try their best to break over the port side of the canoe. A few of them got me, but I beat a bunch of them.

Straight ahead, at the first campsite on Wood Lake, were lights!  My gloom and doom began to break.  I  yelled to Nick about the lights in the wind that carried my voice to the right while we headed northward.  He saw them, obviously, but I was so hopeful, I had to say something even though it was obvious.

We pressed on as I had a surge of adrenalin, wanting to know who those lights were so late at night in this northwest wind and snow.  We got closer to the more sheltered bay of that camp and there was our rental boat, but no canoe.   Trepidation started to climb inside of me again.  We got to shore, shined our lights and Ted came out of a tent clearly made for two.  Then a kind couple came out as well.  We said “hi” and asked Ted what was going on.

Ted gave the exact same story.  At about 6 PM, he lost track of these guys and didn’t know what to do. He crossed the Hula portage and yelled three different times, but to no avail. He finally came to this campsite that had the only other people on the lake.  These nice people shared their tiny tent with Ted to keep him out of the blowing snow and rain.  Ted was already pretty wet.

We had no choice but to press onward to the Hula portage.    We had to cover a quarter mile of water in probably the worst part of the lake for a northwest wind and I was not looking forward to it. It waited for us literally right around the point from that campsite.  Nick told Ted to stay put and that we were heading out.   Ted nodded looking bleak in the light of our yellow beamed flashlights because much time had already passed.  The sinking feeling in my stomach got a little heavier.

With my back to Nick, he grabbed the bow of the canoe to float and brace it for me to walk to the back.  As he bent over, I heard him yell “Arrgghh!!!” and he added a slew of cuss words behind it under his breath.  I turned quickly to see thinking he’d injured himself only to watch him plunge his arm into the water up to his shoulder and then pull it out just as fast.  I shined my light on what he was holding and it was his Motorola service radio  - our only contact with the outside world.

He shook it really hard and then called into Lake County Dispatch for a radio check.  The woman there responded in the dark and her voice was garbled but understandable.  I couldn’t believe that it worked! Neither could Nick!  It fell into 18” of water and was there for a millisecond.  Nick’s cat-like reflexes apparently beat the water seeping into the electronics and frying them.  Somebody was watching out for us that night.  Nick was amazed and said that’s why he liked Motorola.

We got in the canoe, headed northwest for a bit and and then turn and head northeast as we circumnavigated the shore.  We were sheltered by the point at the camp and the little bay there as well.  The wind on the outside made itself be known when we rounded the bend in the dark. It hit us both barrels.  Sheesh, it was rough!  The waves were about 3.5 feet high and cresting about 15-20- feet apart.  I was trying to keep us on level water  but the fast-moving waves careened underneath causing us to miss the water on an occasional paddle stroke.  I could hear Nick being lifted up and dropped in the bow and in between roars of wind, I yelled to Nick that I was glad it was nighttime and dark. I would have never done this had I been able see how rough it really was in daylight.  In daylight, we would have been waiting on shore right now.  To make matters worse, the rain was sideways and the snowflakes sticky. Being myopic requires my wearing glasses and they had so much water on them, Nick’s flashlight made me go blind with sparkling circles.  I couldn't see a thing.  Wiping off the water didn’t help.  I told Nick to turn off his light so I could take us to the outlaw portage on the north side of the narrows ahead by following at the trees.  Now, in total darkness with water pounding over the port gunwale of the canoe and me looking at the barely discernible tree line in the darkness,  I hoped that I was putting us far enough north on the passage to miss the reef.  It was early spring, and the water should be sufficiently high, but I didn’t want to test out the radio again.

by rolling the canoe on a rock in that black water of Wood Lake.

Rescue At Hula - Part 2 - Gotta Go Now

“You don’t know what?” I now lightly snarled because the clock is ticking and my happy-meter is running out of coins.  It’s been a really long day.

“Ve don’t know ver dey are.  Ted say on valkie-talkie dat Mikhail and Hrzckzc aren’t back from Hula” she said from her tear-soaked palms.

“When did you find out that there was a problem with Mikhail and Hrzckzc?” I asked now using my stern voice.

“About seex – theerty .  Ted call us and say that he’s at Hula Lake portage and they not show up.  He cross portage and not find them – three time.  Ted don’t know what to do and valkie-talkie iss dead.” she replied.

To that response I had a mini-meltdown.  “You waited 3.5 hours and never even thought to come look for help from anybody?  What is wrong with you people!!!!?????”  More sobs and I decide that this was a far as these women were going to take me in this problem.  I hit the door running, and headed to the resort office to get to the phone.

I called my dad  up at his house, and his first response was “Let’s go.  Let’s get some gear together”  I suggested we call the Lake County Sheriff to see if we can get some help there as well.  The dispatch said that Nick Milkovich was in the area and they would send him right over.  He arrived in his cruiser in under 10 minutes.

During the ten minutes I waited, I began to get gear together.  Flashlights, backup flash lights, matches, firestarters, a butane lighter, first-aid supplies, and a zip lock bag to contain it all. I also threw in about 6 cans of pop, some candy bars, life jackets,  beef jerky and whatever else could be accessed with ease out in the woods.  In my mind it is still a rescue mission, not a recovery.   Fighting back the abject panic that tries it’s hardest to set in during situations such as these sent my adrenalin surging.

Nick suggested quietly, before my dad made it down to the lodge building that he and I be the only ones to go on this mission.   He said, “you dad is getting too old for this shit” and I agreed. When my dad arrived, I said that Nick and I would be going and Nick suggested that he stay home and man the phone as we would need reliable phone contact.  This was the age before all the electronics of today.  Nick has his gun belt, department issued Motorola service radio and clothes on his back. I got him a rainsuit and took one #4 pack with all the stuff and some extra jackets.  I had my rain gear on and we threw paddles in back of the truck, along with the pack, grabbed the keys for the remaining canoe and blasted out of the yard.  Time was REALLY ticking fast now.

We arrived at the Wood Lake parking lot at about 10:40 PM.  It was cloudy, roaring wind in the trees and it felt extra dark outside.  We started down the portage walking with the sheer determination of  two guys on a serious mission.  It was snowing and down in the mud and swampy part of the portage where the old slippery corduroy logs were laid years before, it was deathly silent.  In between our footsteps, I could hear the snowflakes hit the wet leaves on the ground.  The wind was higher than in the tree tops and every now and then,  it would swoop down and blast us in the dark after aligning itself with the trail.  It was like a marauding monster that was gone as quickly as it attacked.  The wind was a harbinger of bad things in my mind as we used flashlights to avoid the deep black mud and walk on anything solid.

At about 11 PM, we made it to the end of the portage, unlocked the canoe and the darkness of the woods opened up to clouds back-lit by star light.  It was still really dark and I could just barely make out the treelines.  Nick removed his service belt and clipped it to the thwart of the old Grumman canoe – just in case. We both heard wind screaming over the muskeg.  The intermittent snow flurried into our faces.  I took the stern seat of the canoe because I know that lake like the back of my hand after having guided there for many years. That night, I was going to have to prove myself.

In order to get to the Wood Lake proper, there is a slow moving, lily-pad-laden, drainage that leads to the lake.  It’s about a three quarter mile of padde to get to the first bit of open water of Wood Lake.  Being spring, we did not have to contend with lily pads.  That area is a bit sheltered from the open wind and what looks like flat, calm water. It can lead to open expanses where raging waters await.  It’s deceiving, but it wasn't my first rodeo.  And “rodeo” it was when we made it to the first island at the beginning of Wood Lake.

Rescue At Hula - Part 1 - We Don't Know

Way back in 1989, Northwind lodge was a busy place with lots of fisherman and fisherwomen staying and doing what comes natural: fishing.

Wood Lake was our lodge guests’ fishing hotspot.  Wood Lake is where I learned how to guide after fishing there a zillion times with my dad and brother, winter and summer.  It’s a shallow, weedy lake with dark water. Most people are used to fishing in deeper water lakes with lots of reefs and drop offs.  Not too much of that in Wood Lake, but the walleyes still like it along with a lot of other fish species.

In renting out the Wood lake boats, our lodge guests drove us nuts from time to time.  For some people it was hard to impress upon then the need for coming out of the woods when they say they are doing so.  As their hosts, we are concerned for their safety.  To get to Wood Lake, you have to drive back towards Ely about 2.5 miles from Northwind Lodge. From there you need to cross a half mile long, rugged portage, and then row one of the boats or paddle one of our canoes three quarters of a mile down a lily-pad-laden water trail to the main body of the lake.  For some folks, this is a more difficult task but the fishing and adventure of the day is rewarding.  Nonetheless, we want to know that all of our guests come back safely.  If they don’t, we feel compelled to take action.

It was not unusual for many of our more casual guests to make that hot, sweaty walk out from Wood Lake and disappear to Ely to hit a bar or restaurant even after they said they’d return back to the lodge at 6 PM.  Come 8 PM, we’d be loading up the truck and running down to the Wood Lake portage to see if their vehicle is still there.  If, so, we’d have to cross the portage thinking the worst, only to find them sitting in the boat or just arriving to the dock in the dark.  Many of them were clearly shocked that we were concerned about their well-being.  That always confused me because I couldn’t imagine not being concerned.  After a while, however, this checking on some “inconsiderate buffoon at Wood lake” thing got a little old because there appeared to be a never-ending line  of inconsiderate buffons out there.  So, my dad made a sign:

Wood Lake Fisherman:  If you go to Wood Lake and do not return at the time you stated, we will come to look for you.  If it turns out that you just decided to stay past your return time without letting us know and if we find you alive and well, we will add $100 to your cabin bill.

That seemed to get everyone’s attention and the tardiness pretty much ended.   People returned at least reasonably close to their time and turned in their boat keys and oars.  Order was restored.

On May 17, 1989, I was in the resort office waiting.   We had quite a few fishermen in and they were shopping for tackle for tomorrow’s trip and stopping by to see if the keys came in for the Wood Lake boats.  Back then we were open from 7AM to 10PM, seven days a week and by 10 PM, my day was beginning to wear on me.  Finally, it was closing time and the people from Cabin 6  had not returned the keys from Wood Lake.  I wanted to close and go to bed.

The women of the party stayed behind that day.  There were three of them and the entire party of three couples were from Chicago's Polish district.  They barely spoke English and when they arrived initially, only one guy “Ted” spoke for the group.  Everyone else just sort of watched us interact.

I was now a bit ornery, because these people probably didn’t know the Wood Lake return rules because of their language restrictions.  Plus, the entire day had been brutal weather-wise.  It developed into high winds with  intermittent rain, snow and sleet.   Maybe there was a problem but why would anyone wait so long to notify us of an issue?  Most likely these bozos probably went to town, I thought.

So, I went over to the Cabin and knocked on their door.  Someone weakly said to "come in" and I did.  I saw three women sitting on various pieces of furniture, all holding their faces in their hands and quietly sobbing.  On the table was a big, grey walkie-talkie with about a five foot chrome, telescopic  antenna fully extended. It was a bit surreal.

Alarm began to set in and I asked “What’s going on, ladies?  Where are the men?”   No answer – just sobbing and light wailing. Apparently, they were content with a guy standing in the middle of the living room and they more or less ignored me - which was really odd.  I said much louder now “Hey! Somebody talk to me!  Where are the guys?  I need those keys!  Other people are going out to Wood tomorrow!  Where are the guys!!!!?”

From inside her hands, one woman responded weakly with a thick accent, Ve don’t know….somting iss wrong…”