Stranger Danger/ Karen

    I was camping alone on a lake on the border of the Boundary Waters Canoe area, about 12 miles up the Echo Tail, and I heard noises outside my tent—sounds of something moving, panting, thumping. I heard pans jangling. Then, I heard water being lapped from my dog’s dish. My dog was curled up at my feet, sound asleep.  I was scared.
     I grabbed for my cell phone, and punched in 911:  “I am having an emergency -- animals near my tent, come quick,”  I imagined  telling the dispatcher.  The sounds of the beast came closer, then receded, then moved closer again. I forced myself to acknowledge that only once in twenty years has a bear attacked a camper in the BWCA. Bees kill more campers than bears, and falling and drowning are the greatest risks. Then the noises stop. My heart slows to a regular rhythm. Eventually, I sleep, and a few hours later I am awakened by squirrels racing back and forth across my site, up and down trees, cheeping loudly at each other, not at all concerned with me. 
 
     I’ve been making trips north to the BWCA, a million acres of wilderness, since I was a girl. In my twenties, I began taking solo trips, and developed what has become a long-term relationship with the land and lakes.  The BW is not mountainous and majestic. It does not take your breath away like the vast ocean might. Nor is it otherworldly like the desert southwest and its strange red rock formations. No, the BWCA is more like a secret garden—intimate and mysterious. Its textures are revealed in degrees, over time, lake by lake, loon by loon.
     Some think of the BWCA as a sacred place—pristine--a cathedral in which to worship creation. But this has not always been so. In the 1800’s, the forests were harvested of their trees, and by the end of that century, taconite mining operations became the dominate economic force in the area, contributing significant air pollution. The decline of of the mining industry coincided with the decision to create the BWCA as a federally protected wilderness area in 1979, an act that caused a lot of resentment that lingers today between “townies” and “tourists”.  Those who had resorts within the interior of the BW had to sell and move out. Motorboats were disallowed on most the lakes. For many, these were extreme measures that privileged animals over man and they didn’t agree with or even understand the shift in paradigm that put a place before people.  On top of that, their chances to make a good living in the mines was greatly diminished.
     Though it is a protected wilderness area, the BWCA is not pristine.  A web  camera records air quality in the BWCA where paddlers sometimes mistake haze for fog or mist. In fact, taconite plants, car exhaust, and even camp fires contribute to significant air pollution.   A new mine is planning to open near the BW and will threaten the groundwater as well as spew more pollutants into the air. It will also bring jobs to the area. Much needed jobs. The debate is heated on both sides, with locals calling the opponents of the mine tree hugging pointy-headed elitists, and the mining opponents calling the local mine defenders narrow-minded, short-sighted rednecks. It isn’t the kind of dialogue that leads to peaceful compromise. 
      The BWCA has other threats to its well being as well—earthworms, invasive species, and global warming all top the list of an assault that could dramatically change the character of the ecosystem.  Dialing 911 wont help. Neither will name calling or sticking our heads in the sand. It will take those of us who share a passion for the place, as well as the people who are its neighbors, to put our differences aside and come up with a shared vision of how to best honor the Boundary Waters so that it stays wild.

     Wildness, like freedom, is worth preserving. Be wilder.
 
     Loons return to the Boundary Waters every year after the lakes thaw. This year, global warming melted the ice early—setting a new ice-out record. The loons had no idea, and returned to their summer home at their usual time to mate and raise their young.  You will likely hear their tremolo call if you paddle on a lake in the BWCA.  This is the sound they make when they feel threatened, when they sense a stranger or danger. If you stay long enough, be wild like a loon.  Shed your skin like a snake. Turn yourself inside out-- feel the wind, see the stars, taste the water right from the lake—you might hear a wail, or a yodel, or a hoot, the language of the loons when they feel at peace.

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For more reading on the BWCA and its history:  Stephen Wilburs' Boundary Waters Chronology 

To see BWCA pictures: from the Real time Air Quality Camera