When I was nine years old, my dad asked me if I wanted to go on a camping trip on the Canadian border lakes called the Boundary Waters.  He said it was a tough trip, with no electronics, and no food except some fishing rods to catch dinner.  When I first heard this, I was out, until he began to tell me about his previous trips up there, hauling in monster fish, seeing new animals, and creating great stories. I began to grow captivated.  I always loved to fish but had done it from the safety of a boat any time I went.  This, however, seemed like a challenge. After a day or two, I said yes and we made plans to fly to Duluth Minnesota when summer came around. 

As we watched the fourth of July firework show at my dad’s college friend's house, we prepared for an early departure.  A 3-hour drive to the furthest town, Grand Marias, and then a 5-hour drive on a dirt road to get to our spot.  We took off, me, my dad, Jay, and his dog Vale.  I quickly fell asleep in the backseat and was woken up by my dad saying we were there.  I looked out the window and we were in the middle of dense woods, and a stream leading out into a big lake laid in front of us.  We dropped the packs in the canoes, the canoes in the water, and then began our long paddle to our spot just as the sun was reaching its peak height of the day.  As we paddled, I took in the sheer beauty of a place that hasn’t been touched by civilization.  Hills covered in trees surrounding just one of ten thousand lakes it has to offer.  A steady stroke of the paddle kept us moving, but we were jammed-packed and heavy.  I knew that at any point, the canoe could tip over and ruin everything. We finally made it to the portage, a mile uphill and then a mile downhill.  All while carrying a Duluth pack on your front and back.  We set off.  I felt good for about ten minutes, and then my young legs began to give out. It was hot, sweaty, and humid, with mosquitoes biting at any skin left uncovered.  After about halfway up the hill, I couldn’t walk anymore.  I had to sit down and wait for my dad and Jay to finish and then come back to get the stuff I was supposed to carry.  I know in this moment, my dad was definitely questioning if it was a good idea to bring me up here at such a young age.  We got to the end and set on our final paddle to the spot we wanted to set up.

I was exhausted, but as the bright sun shined down on us I fully took in the natural beauty of a place where few people go. I heard loons calling to each other, fish jumping, and mosquitoes buzzing. From miles further north, you could smell the forest fire that had been taking out thousands of Canadian trees for weeks before we got there.  For the first time in my life, I saw a bald eagle in the wild.  It soared over us as we went to our spot, and it felt like our guardian before slipping back into the trees. An animal I was always told was going extinct, was as abundant here as any other bird.  As we paddled further, I saw a moose slowly climb into the shallow waters to cool off.  I had never in my life seen and heard so much wildlife in such a short span, it almost felt like I was at the zoo. 

The next week of my life felt like heaven.  I was now in a place where I had to catch my own food, start my own fire, cook my food, find safe drinking water from a moving stream, and live in a tent that could be flooded or broken into by wild animals.  I would have thought this idea might have scared me, or just been too much work, but I quickly realized that this is what was meant for people.  Being in the complete wilderness changed my mind about society, and how people function in the “real world”.

When the week was over, I had been filled with memories and stories forever, but I still had one more challenge left, the portage. I put the same packs on as before and set off in front.  I kept my head down, and continued to push, making sure I didn’t trip on a rock or fallen tree. In the back of my head, I knew I was going to get it this time.  Even though my legs hurt just as much halfway through, I didn’t stop. Finally, my foot felt soft ground.  I looked up, and I had made it.  I felt an overcoming sense of pride and accomplishment, and it was something that I had never really felt before.  I had gotten good grades on a test, hit a walk-off home run in a baseball game, but nothing compared to this experience.  Since that trip, it has been almost a decade, and I have gone up to the same spot almost every year to experience it again, and it has only gotten better.

             As I grew older, I began to think of society as a whole a lot differently.  Every time I go up to camp, I get a primal feeling that is not brought out anywhere else in our world.  I realized that this was how we were meant to live as a species. We are supposed to be hunters, living off the land and surviving, but society today is catered to do the opposite. We want people to be cogs in a system, to just work a day job that is part of a process that completes a bigger project.  Most people, in America especially, are so used to this lifestyle, that they would have no shot of survival if other people didn’t cater to their every need. My favorite part about this trip isn’t the fishing, it isn’t the conversation, although that’s all nice. My favorite part of being there is that for that week, I am off the grid.  No cell service, and no way to contact people.  It feels refreshing, like you can take a mental break from a lifestyle that is simply unhealthy for us. Instead of driving to go get a Big Mac, to then sit at home and watch TV, I have to paddle across the lake, catch, clean and cook my food, just to go back to my campsite which I need to get ready for the night. Funny enough though, I find myself enjoying this harder life much more than my simple one back home. 

 I think that people, especially in the western world, need to get out into nature and explore the world they are living on, because there is nothing else like it.  America is seen as a big shopping mall, which is what the big cities have become, but there are still amazing geographical features that are mesmerizing to look at here.  Think about the Grand Canyon, Niagara Falls, Yellowstone, or the Rocky Mountains.

People live their whole lives and take experiences for granted, and I get it.  Why would I get out of my house and travel somewhere when I can see a video of it on my phone? Why would I go hunt for my food when I could just order it to be delivered?  And my answer to this is that getting out into nature can bring you back down to reality, and make you think about what’s important in the world.  It's not social media, it's not the news, it's not politics. You don’t need that fancy new car, golden watch, or massive house.  The important things in the world are relationships, experiences, and that you live your life to the fullest.  It sounds cliché, but it really is true that most people don’t like what they are doing in their lives, yet do nothing to change it.  Americans are more and more clinically depressed by the year, and it’s because of the fast-paced society we live in.  Human beings have been able to use technology to create a sense of power over the world and other creatures on it, but we never know when this fragile world we live in can be destroyed.  Every year, more of these places are being destroyed and replaced by human settlement, and at some point, we are going to run out.  I think if more people were willing to just get out into nature, they would open up a new section of the mind and be more in tune with what we are doing to the world and what beauty we are destroying.