A Brief Time in Heaven. Darryl Blazino
only a small beaver dam separating us. Soon, despite my efforts, our progress halted and in fact we began drifting backwards. My friend in the bow turned back and gave me a stern look. “We’re too close,” he muttered. He had dug his paddle under a log and was prying us away from this gorgeous animal. I had never been this close to a moose before or since and in retrospect can understand his trepidation — these are massive, powerful animals, but with no calf in sight and her ambivalence towards us I never for a second thought we had anything to fear.
After several minutes the cow crossed in front of us again and went ashore, but rather than head for the woods she walked around us and re-entered the water to taste the plants right behind our canoe! We photographed and videotaped and, more often, simply watched in disbelief for more than half an hour.
“Stefano, do you want to go pet it?” I inquired of our Italian visitor. “I can bring you closer.”
He declined, unsure if I was actually serious, but there is no doubt in my mind that we could have nudged her with our paddles if we had been so inclined. Mindful that we were the intruders and that we still had some real estate to cover before suppertime, we reluctantly left this rare close encounter and headed off.
Our adventure had a profound impact on Stefano. I will never forget his wide-eyed grin and his fascination with his new surroundings. I don’t think he had ever been outside of Italy before, and his enthusiasm, not to mention our good fortune, made the trip a very special one.
And Then There Were Five
In the spring of 2000 we decided to get our permits in advance and enter via a rough logging road to Bemar Lake on the east side of the park. Just before reaching Saganagons Lake, in a narrow weedy area, we saw a mother duck with six cute little ducklings. We followed them for a time, delighted to see such a pleasant family going about their business.
Just as we were overtaking them, a loud splash was heard. I was the only one of our group of four who was looking the other way at the time. The others confirmed that I had seen only the tail end of a rare but brutal event. A large northern pike had come to the surface and taken one of the ducklings! Surprisingly, the other ducks continued on as if nothing had happened. Although far from being the most enjoyable experience we had witnessed, it was quite fascinating nonetheless.
In a similar event, two of my canoeing partners stayed at camp at the south end of Russell Lake while Rod and I went for an evening fish. Upon our return they excitedly relived a strange event for us. While standing on shore they had noticed several scattered ripples and then bubbles developing at water’s edge. Soon a frog emerged from the water and onto the rocky shore. Suddenly a huge bass flung itself a full six inches onto shore, capturing the frog in its mouth before shimmying back into the water!
Where Eagles Soar
Virtually all of our trips involve sightings of at least one bald eagle. These once rare birds are now a very common sight in canoe country. With their remarkable eyesight, it is usually the eagle that will spot you first, as my wife and I found out when we turned the corner from Russell Rapids to Sturgeon Lake. Being preoccupied with our ride down the strong current we were startled to hear what sounded like a kite cutting through a strong wind. We looked up to see a giant pair of yellow feet with razor-sharp talons a mere dozen feet above our heads. It was obviously a false charge, but if the eagle had been serious, we probably would have abandoned ship — that is, if we weren’t paralyzed with shock.
Sometimes, however, these giant raptors aren’t the toughest guy on the block. While on the south end of Walter we were stunned to see a herring gull (commonly referred to as a seagull) attacking an eagle. We conjectured that the eagle had attempted to steal the gull’s supper and the gull wasn’t giving up without a fight. Whatever the story, after several confrontations it was the gull who got its way with the eagle flying off in defeat without dinner.
Even more shocking was the time on Pickerel Lake when my wife and I saw an eagle being chased off by a kestrel hawk. This small but aggressive member of the falcon family (also known as the sparrow hawk) was much less than half the eagle’s size, and yet it was able to drive off the eagle, likely from its nest. By no means did the eagle seem frightened by the tiny hawk, but it did make a steady retreat without any hint of a counterattack.
What made the encounter even more peculiar was that every time the kestrel approached, the eagle would do a complete barrel roll! This happened on at least six consecutive occasions. The kestrel pursued the eagle and just at the instant of attack the eagle pulled its long, sweeping wings in and did a complete spin, dropping down a fair distance and creating separation between them in the process. Over half a mile later the hawk finally relented and headed back towards its nest, point well delivered.
Only once have I had the thrill of seeing an eagle take a fish from the lake. In 2010 we were crossing north on Minn Lake when we spotted a white head perched on the tallest pine off the point of an island. Eager to use my telephoto lens I asked my paddling partner to see if he could work us closer while I set up my camera. No sooner had I picked up the case than the eagle swooped down from its perch, touched the water with one precise motion, and soared off with a small fish clasped in both its talons. What a sight to behold.
Bald eagle, Fern Lake.
Bears in Their Backyard
Most people are well aware that bears have excellent climbing skills but don’t realize that they are proficient swimmers as well. The first of only two bear encounters that I have had over the twelve years I have been exploring the park was quite memorable. While paddling down the west arm of Fern Lake we noticed two dark objects crossing the channel ahead of us. As we drew closer, the bears (a sow and a cub) took notice and hurried their already rapid pace to roughly equal that of our canoe. Obviously they felt a bit safer on land and were determined to get there as quickly as possible.
Bear cubs, Bud Lake.
There was one small problem regarding their exit, or so we thought. They were headed for a small but completely vertical rock cliff which seemed to lack any apparent ledges that would facilitate their exit. We stopped to watch what we believed would be a lengthy struggle. To our astonishment, the mom and her small cub climbed the rock face without the slightest hesitation. To them it must have seemed as routine as ascending a set of stairs. With their wet fur tight to their bodies, you could see the extensive musculature beneath. Needless to say we have an even greater respect for these powerful and nimble animals after seeing their abilities first-hand.
Coincidentally, my second bear sighting six years later was just a mile north of Fern on Bud Lake, and it was even more incredible. As we headed north we rounded a point and heard quite a racket. It sounded like the squawking of ravens but turned out to be three tiny cubs displeased with their mother. We will never be certain if mom was giving her cubs a swimming lesson, but it seemed to be the most logical explanation for what we saw. Initially mom and two of the cubs were swimming (actually, one of the cubs was hitching a ride on her back) to a small rock island a mere thirty feet from the mainland. The third cub was already on the island.
After a moment mom swam back to shore and appeared to be waiting for the little ones to follow. The cubs once again loudly voiced their displeasure. With much hesitation, one by one, the cubs began heading back to mom, crying, sometimes gurgling, the entire time as they made the arduous crossing.
Even though we understood that mom had their best interests at heart, it was quite unpleasant hearing the cubs in such distress. We realized, however, that we had been incredibly fortunate to see such a rare and intimate event.
Elizabeth Lake Predator
Most instances where people are attacked by black bears involve a mother protecting her young. If a bear hears you coming it will usually retreat. Surprising a bear, however, can incite an attack response, especially if cubs are around, and there are dozens of well-documented cases where such has occurred.
Predatory