The Moose Club: Youngster's Adventures Along the Gunflint Trail

By Jerry Caple

This story is entirely fictional; none of the characters are real and any resemblance to anyone is purely accidental.
However, many of the events, lakes, and places are real and many descriptions do come from events that have happened. A group of youngsters formed a club in the 1990s—the Gunflint Narrows Moose Club—with a written constitution as well. They had their own adventures on the trail, but this story is about the friendships and adventures of a group of children spending their summers and vacations learning the values of protecting our natural resources.
One of the original Moose Club members is now on the board of the “Friends of the Boundary Waters,” and another is a professional photographer.

About the Author
Gerald (Jerry) Caple grew up in International Falls, Minnesota. He is a retired chemistry professor who currently spends the summers on Gunflint Lake (half in Canada) and the winters in Tucson. He is active in collecting water quality data and water samples for testing by the Minnesota Pollution Control Agency and the Cook County Soil and Water Group. Jerry Caple has represented Gunflint Lake in the Cook County Coalition of Lake Associations and has been a member of the Community Advisory Group associated with the International Joint Commission, which is responsible for water quality in the Boundary Waters. This work involved meetings in International Falls, Kenora and Fort Frances, the latter two in Canada.
His hobbies include fishing, hiking, canoeing, and painting. He has made about 60 hikes into the Grand Canyon, of course to fish. He still catches some walleyes from his canoe.
Jerry Caple wishes to thank everyone who helped him with this project and the encouragement given to him by the Cook County Coalition of Lake Associations. Special thanks to his daughter, Shelly Anderson, who helped with the text and publishing.

• Language: English
• Publisher: RoseDog Books
• Release date: Mar 25, 2024
• ISBN: 9798891274259

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The contents of this work, including, but not limited to, the accuracy of events, people, and places depicted; opinions expressed; permission to use previously published materials included; and any advice given or actions advocated are solely the responsibility of the author, who assumes all liability for said work and indemnifies the publisher against any claims stemming from publication of the work.

All Rights Reserved

Copyright © 2024 by Jerry Caple

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted, downloaded, distributed, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, including photocopying and recording, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented without permission in writing from the publisher.

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Forward:

This story is entirely fictional, none of the characters are real and any resemblance to anyone is purely accidental. Bucksaw Lake does not exist.

However, many of the events, lakes and places are real and many descriptions do come from events that have happened. The title is derived from the Gunflint Narrows Moose Club, a group of youngsters who formed a club in the 1990s, with a written constitution as well written as the one in this story. One of the original Moose Club members is now on the board of the Friends of the Boundary Waters, and another is a professional photographer.

I wish to thank everyone who helped me with this project and the encouragement given to me by the Cook County Coalition of Lake Associations. Special thanks to my daughter, Shelly Anderson, who helped with the text and publishing.

Chapter 1, The Cabin

Hi! My name is Bobby, I’m ten years old, or at least I will be on April third. It is now late February.  Dad just dropped me and my sister Betty, we call her Bets, off at our school.  Bets is seven years old, a why-ner, why this, why that, why, why with an occasional what stuck in, other than that she is tolerable. Then he said he would take Mom to the middle school where she taught art. Dad said he had to make a trip up north and Mom would pick us up and walk us home, about a half mile hike for us, but it was a nice day. We would also be walking to school with Mom the next day, Friday. We have a three year old black dog, half lab, named Duchess. All of us live in Anoka, Minnesota, just northwest of Minneapolis.

About 3 o’clock  in the afternoon on Sunday we got a call from Dad. He was about two hours out and was stopping to get Chinese for dinner. Not my favorite, but Mom and Bets just love the stuff. Mom did tell Dad to get some lo mein, which I could eat. Dad said he had a surprise for us. Sure enough it was about two and a half hours later when dad walked in with the bag of food. This was spread out on the table, Mom got out the plates and forks.

Dad began, You all know I signed a big contract for writing a number of articles, hence our family finances look good. So I did something your Mom has been bugging me about for years, up north, I bought a cabin on Bucksaw Lake, just off of the Gunflint Trail.

This brought a bunch of cheers and clapping from us. Duchess must have sensed something, so she put in a few good barks. Mom got up and threw her arms around Dad and exclaimed, FINALLY, at last I can get a paddle in my hands again.  Mom had been a guide at a church camp on Seagull Lake when she was in college, Dad did not know one end of a canoe from the other. Dad described the lake to us. It was about three miles long, mostly in the Boundary Waters Wilderness Canoe Area. Then he hauled out a bunch of maps, Dad loves maps, and he pointed out everything. There were only eight, 300 foot lots, that were on the southwest corner of the lake and they were only  accessible by a two mile hilly single lane dirt road. There were some islands in the lake, the biggest one was in the northeast section of the lake and was about a quarter mile long with a Wilderness campsite on it, of course it was called Big Island. There was a second campsite on a point in front of a bay that led to a portage to another lake. Then there was a smaller island to the southeast of the big island, in front of a big wide bay. Across from the lots were a string of very small islands. Finally, there was a stream coming in from the west and one going out on the east end.

Our lot was the fourth one in with a fire number of 115, the address being 115 Bucksaw Lake Road. Dad took his cell phone out and began to show us the pictures he had taken. There was lots of snow in all the outside pictures, Dad said he and the realtor had to snowmobile in as there had been a recent snowstorm. The snow mobile belonged to Mike, who owned the first lot.  The realtor knew him. The lot size was 300 feet wide by 600 feet long. The cabin sat on the eastern edge of a rock slab. The wind must have blown some of the snow off the rock because some of it was visible. There was a rock showing just off the shoreline, apparently it was part of the small island just a few feet offshore. The cabin was pointed somewhat towards the northwest. The southeast corner was close to some trees. Dad said the cabin was 48 feet long and 24 feet wide. Then he rolled out the floor plans of the cabin. In the back of the cabin there was an entryway, for coats and boots, plus some storage. In the southeast corner was a laundry room with a sink, hot water heater and a small stackable washer and dryer. Next to this was the bathroom, with a small shower stall. Next in line was the open kitchen, with a small pantry at one end, a fridge at the other and a sink under a window.

Mom piped up, No dishwasher?

Dad pointed at me and Bets and said, We have these two.

Both Bets and I groaned. But Dad went on, next to the kitchen was a dining nook with built-in seating and a table. Then he showed us the living room, which had a high beamed ceiling, with a fan at the top. In the middle, in the prow, was a wood stove. It was on black flat stone and the wall behind it had what looked like flat thin stones. On either side of this were two picture windows. There were two doors on either side of the room, leading out onto the wrap around deck. The deck was covered by an extension of the roof. On the west side of the cabin were two small bedrooms, separated by a small room.  Dad said the small room would be his and Mom’s computer room. This is where I will write, and Mom will work on her artwork curricula and we will get peace and quiet. You two, he said, pointing at me and Bets, will share a bedroom, we will order a bunk bed.

Two groans came once again, but I immediately asked for the top bunk.

Bets quickly blurted out, Oh no, does he still wet the bed.

Of course, I hit her.

When the ruckus died down, Dad went on, We have to order all the furniture, there is none in the cabin, except the table. We will all be involved in picking out the furniture.  Dad then went on about the outdoors. You could tell he was excited.

Behind the cabin the realtor said was a lawn about 100 feet square. There is also a small parking area and a covered wood storage shed. You can see there is some wood in it.  Then see the smaller shed?  It houses some tools but also has a composting toilet and a solar shower for emergencies. There are apparently some flower beds behind the cabin, but they were snow covered so I don’t have any idea about their size or what might be in them.

The cabin, as I mentioned, is on a rock outcrop, sloping towards the back of the lot, there is a small set of stairs right next to the woods, apparently this is the trail to the lake.  There was some snow on the stairs, but I tried them. I took a big step off the last one I could see and ended up to my waist in snow and had to crawl back up the stairs.  There was only one tree, an aspen, in the clear area in front of the cabin, but the edges of the lot are covered nicely by forest.  They are so dense we cannot see any of our neighbors through the woods.  The realtor said there was a small island a few feet out from the shore, the one I showed you on the map.

We really did not spend much time looking at furniture until after my birthday. Mom gave me a spin fishing rod kit, about five feet long, along with some hooks, lures, sinkers and bobbers.  Dad gave me a paddle with black plastic on both ends and an aluminum middle. Bets gave me a life vest and my aunt Mardie, Mom’s younger sister, and her husband John gave me a landing net.

During the last day of school Dad packed our van and the trailer he had borrowed from my aunt and uncle.  When I got home from school the van was full and the tarp covered trailer was also full. I noticed Duchess’ potty, a 3x4 foot piece of fake green turf on a shallow pan with a drain in one corner, was still on our deck. I asked Dad about it and he said he had ordered a new one for the cabin. This was one of my chores, keeping it clean. Boy was I excited, I could hardly eat supper and I think I stayed awake all night, it was worse than Christmas Eve. Of course, the next morning when we started out I fell asleep almost immediately. Dad woke me up at the first rest stop, handed me a plastic bag and Duchess’ leash, to which she was attached - another of my chores.

When we went through Two Harbors Dad stopped at Ned’s Nursery. We all went in and came out with four six inch deep, one foot square Styrofoam blocks, with what looked like grass on top. These he informed us were young trees, 25 jack pines, 25 cedars, 25 red pines and 25 white pines. With Mom’s plants from home, the van already looked like a greenhouse, the new plants barely fit in and Duchess ended up on the floor. We also stopped for lunch at Tettagouche State Park, again I got the plastic sack and the dog. We took a short hike and saw the waterfalls and then found a picnic table to eat Mom’s sandwiches, bananas, and lemonade.

We made our last stop, filled up with gas in Grand Marais, and headed up the Gunflint Trail. It was just after 3 o’clock when we turned into Bucksaw Lake Road. It was a true one lane road, in some places it was like driving through a tunnel, there was one open area where it looked like gravel had been scraped out and there was a swampy area along the road. Three times we had to cross small streams running across the road. Some of these were quite bumpy and washed out. Dad turned in at the blue sign that had the number 115 on it.

He pulled up beside the cabin and said, Well guys, let’s take a look.

There were already some packages on the back porch, but Duchess could not wait.

Once inside, Duchess did the fastest tour, but boy was it nice. The walls were all knotty pine and just like