The Wright kind of Portage 

At this point in the year, most of us are ready for sunshine, blue skies, and at the very least, a week where we don’t have to dig ourselves out of a parking spot.

While everyone anticipates winter and looks forward to a white Christmas, sledding, and other snow activities, the fun is soon short-lived when it starts getting dark at four in the afternoon, the roads become tougher and tougher to drive on, and it gets tiresome to gear up to go and retrieve the mail.

Given such matters, it would stand to reason that activities like camping are left for the summer months. Most of us pack away our camping gear for the cold season, and wait for the snow to melt and the lakes to thaw before we start thinking about making reservations for a vacation.

However, these are not the habits of all of us. There are some who brave the elements, and enjoy the challenge of surviving against the frozen tundra that is in Minnesota.

Who are these people, and where are they, you may ask? They may be a lot closer than you think.

Wright locals

Outdoorsmen to the core, the idea arose between four friends to take a “winter camping trip” before Minnesota winter reared its head and hit the state with everything it has – a nasty Polar Vortex. 

Itching for adventure and the opportunity to try something new, Glen Bruchmann, Michael Larson, Jack Hayes, and John (surname redacted) all decided that January would be a great time to give a winter expedition a fair try.

All locals, Bruchmann, Hayes, and Larson all know each other from high school, and John is a mutual friend from work – a mutual friend, it would seem, who is knowledgeable in the area of winter camping.

Larson had maintained a growing fascination with the idea of winter expeditions for a number of years before deciding to venture out and try it himself. He decided, however, that going solo for such a period of time would not be in his best interest being inexperienced, so he’d reached out to Bruchmann and Hayes, as well as his work friend, John.

Together, they decided on a trek across the Boundary Waters, beginning in Ely at Snowbank Lake, where they’d cross the Boundary Waters, and meet a second vehicle at the Gunflint Trail, near Round Lake at the end of January.

Total, the trip is approximately 45 miles.         

“For me, this was about the draw of winter,” Larson stated. “You have wide-open skies with stars, untouched snow – the idea of staying up there at this time of year opens up places that may be inaccessible any other time.”

Bruchmann echoed the idea. “Exactly. You can’t snowshoe across a lake in the summer. You can really get to places that someone camping in the summer couldn’t. It’s a great knowledge to have.”

“Winter camping provides more time outside,” Hayes interjected. “And I am for that.”

All four of the friends are true outdoorsmen. Bruchmann got his start in winter camping in Alaska, and John is an experienced camper in really any season. Larson had dabbled with the idea, and Hayes hadn’t ever done a winter expedition –on skis and snowshoes, no less.

Their choice of trek came from a planning session, when the four met to determine a course. John, being experienced in the BWCA area, brought along a number of maps and charts with previously-taken courses and information.

“He had some courses already plotted,” Larson shared. “We decided on the route we did because it we figured it was a route we could handle.”

 Pouring over them for some time, they decided to begin their journey in Ely, and end up near Round Lake.

Roughing it

“This was a huge accomplishment for all of us,” Bruchmann commented. “It’s something we can all be proud of, and learn from.”

Bruchmann’s statement is certainly true. The group spent a few weeks preparing for their trip; researching equipment and testing different sleeping scenarios. Hayes even slept out on his unheated and uninsulated porch a few nights, as he was trying different sleeping bag and clothing combinations.   That was in temperatures around 20 below, which was cold, but not as cold as it would get on their trip.

“When we found it was going to be around fifty below,” Larson continued, “we had to rethink everything. We packed everything, then tore it apart and packed again. We assessed gear, and then we looked at each other’s gear. We had no idea it would be that cold, but we decided to go anyway.”

It was a tough start. The day they were to begin their journey, Bruchmann said they woke up to a frozen truck battery, which wouldn’t work after an hour or two of work. Even after getting a new battery, their vehicle was still so cold it wouldn’t turn over. By the time they figured out their transportation, they’d already been setback a few hours, which wasn’t promising.

“We were looking at our watches, trying to get out,” Hayes said. “You can only walk so far before you have to stop and begin setting up camp. Then you have to find firewood, because you need a fire every night in those conditions.”

“The first day was tough,” Bruchmann said. “But we managed.”

From there, the journey began. The four pulled pulk sleds with their gear, and travelled mostly on skis across snowy terrain. They had snowshoes with them, as a last resort, as snowshoeing uses twice as much energy as skiing does.

They were gone for seven nights and eight days, on a trail that “no one walks.” Untouched by people, the group didn’t see any other campers, or hardly any wildlife on their journey, which didn’t surprise them all too much.

“You’re talking about temperatures that are fifty below,” Larson said. “There isn’t much alive out in the wilderness when it’s fifty below zero.”

Out of all of them, Hayes admits to having the hardest time. “This was way harder than I thought it would be,” he shared. “I knew it would be hard, but I don’t think I was fully prepared for the amount of work. You’re burning six to seven-thousand calories a day, and I hadn’t had much experience on skis to begin with. While it was rewarding, I’d have to think really hard about doing it again.”

The biggest challenge was keeping things dry, they all agreed. Because, when things get wet, they freeze and pose an even bigger danger of hypothermia and frostbite. They spent hours trying to keep their gear warm and unfrozen.

“We were so close to the fire, we were melting the soles of our shoes; our gloves were scorching. Had to be careful about that,” Bruchmann said.

But, while it was hard, it was entirely worth the effort, they said.

Lessons learned

Being out in the middle of nowhere – in dangerously cold temps – tends to teach people a thing or two.

All four of the friends would agree. They learned a great deal about themselves as people, friends, outdoorsmen, and Minnesotans. Perhaps the biggest takeaway they garnered from this experience was the ability to work together, and the power of cooperation.

“This was the hardest thing I’ve ever done,” Hayes admitted. “But, having people who have done it before like John and Glen makes the experience more hopeful. I don’t think anyone of us were afraid for our lives, but there were pretty bleak moments.”

“You have to learn to watch people, and how they respond to situations,” Larson shared. “Learning how to give pep talks and encourage people in rough moments was key to this whole thing. We really had to rely on one another – I think we all learned things about one another, and grew as friends.”

“It was a bonding experience, that’s for sure,” Hayes inserted.

“You really feel like pioneers when you do things like this,” Bruchmann explained. “That’s part of the reason I love it – the Boundary Waters is a place that we’ve strived to protect, so that it remains untouched, so people can all have growing experiences like this. There’s nothing there – no trash, no cell towers, no air traffic, and that’s how it should stay.”

Amidst being hungry and “constantly cold,” the group ended up making their journey home, unscathed. There weren’t any moments anyone was truly afraid for their lives, and the comfort of an SOS emergency satellite button was an ease of mind. They worked together, all of them learned a thing or two, and at the end of it all, they walked away with the knowledge of successfully completing a once-in-a-lifetime challenge.

“When we were picking routes,” Larson started, “John had these maps and course all plotted out with information at each camping site like ‘ten below sleeping’ and other conditions. Now he can mark on the same map ‘fifty below sleeping conditions’ and know that we all did that together. That’s a wow moment.”

While all of them would consider another winter expedition, they’d certainly rethink temperatures like 50 below – their fingers and toes are still “tingling” from exposure to the elements, and while none of them experienced frostbite, they were, as they said, “frost-nipped.”

Now, that they’re back home, safe and sound; battling the elements seems a bit easier than it did before.