“Forced fun: when your family hates it, but you do it anyway… because that’s what families do.”
Every October or September, without fail, my husband Mark transforms into a back-country cartographer on steroids, planning a week-long Boundary Waters canoe trip like he’s prepping for a National Geographic special. Maps, spreadsheets, portages, lakes, islands — he has it all plotted down to the inch. Each year, the trip gets “bigger and better” in his mind, though somehow the actual experience never quite lives up to the hype.
And yet… we go. Because that’s what families do, not because we want to.
The Ritual of Forced Fun
Our family has a little thing we like to call “forced fun.” That’s when you make your family do something they hate, promise they’ll love it eventually, and then spend the entire time silently plotting your escape route.
Every morning: pack up tents, canoes, and gear. Paddle across glassy lakes. Portage everything to the next island. Repeat. By day three, we can barely lift a paddle without muttering a few choice words under our breath. And somehow, Mark is still more excited than the first morning, reviewing maps at each campsite, pointing out how many miles we paddled, how many we portaged, and plotting the next “unmissable” lake. The rest of us just silently pray for Wi-Fi.
Tiny Troopers, Near-Disasters, and Nature’s Surprises
Of course, chaos comes with a few stars:
- Freya, at just five years old, carried her own canoe pack the entire way, bathed in the river every day, and looked like a miniature wilderness warrior. Absolute legend.
- Parker experienced his first taste of wilderness wonder — discovering ancient Native American Petroglyphs, catching his first fish on a fly rod, and managing to hook himself in the arm with the pole shortly after nearly losing an eyeball when his water bottle fell from his portage pack onto a boulder during a portage and the top busted off and hit him right in the eyeball. Somehow, he survived, caught a fish, and now tells the story like a hero’s legend. BTW, he has what he refers to as survivor stories, but that is for another post, another day…
Meanwhile, the adults? Surviving. Praying. Trying not to murder Mark in his tent, I did try to suffocate him once with a pillow but I think he was breathing through his butt, anyway he’s still alive. Still alive. Still plotting.
And let’s not forget the official state bird of Minnesota: the mosquito. Sometimes, you literally have to stay in your tent for survival, because these tiny vampires can carry you away if you’re not careful. They are massive and apparently starving. They’re angry. And they are very serious about their job.
Expectations vs. Reality
Mark’s excitement is contagious… in theory. But reality? Not so much.
- Expectation: Spot a majestic moose grazing along a serene cranberry bog, perfect for Instagram.
- Reality: The only wildlife we encounter is a loon giving us the side-eye like we’re idiots, and a squirrel plotting world domination — which I got far too close to without incident. And let’s be honest — at this rate, we’ll probably see Sasquatch before we ever see a moose. I keep checking the trees like, “Is that a moose… or just Bigfoot judging our canoe skills?”
- Expectation: Harvest wild rice like intrepid wilderness experts, paddle back triumphant, and bake homemade wild rice & cranberry bread.
- Reality: Canoes remain empty. Cranberries are mythical. Wild rice? Not a single grain. Our dreams of rustic wilderness chef glory sink into the water along with our sanity.
On the bright side, the campsites are stunning, and there’s a BOLO or porta-potty toilet in the middle of the woods so at least you don’t have to dig a hole. But when I say “middle of the woods,” I mean seriously remote, like take a snack and the kind of place where Sasquatch probably has a summer cabin remote. If you’re a believer, take a buddy — or just scream loudly and hope he’s not home. Speaking of chaos… why does it always seem like I start my period every single time we are camping or on this trip? Yay, wilderness timing!
But, oh — the food. The campfire and Dutch oven cooking is worth every extra ounce carried in your pack. Making biscuits, cobblers, and grilling steaks in the Boundary Waters is literally the best food ever. Those extra pounds in our backpacks? Totally worth it. Absolutely memorable.
And let’s not forget the “wild corn dogs” that grow in the Boundary Waters — aka pussy willows. We told Parker they were solar-cooked, sun-powered corn dogs. Did he believe us? Absolutely. Did he try to eat one? Of course. Huge, fluffy, slightly disappointed mouthful later, and he declared us terrible parents. Kids: 1, Botanical Accuracy: 0.
And, of course, everything must be packed in and packed out. Leave no trace. Exhausting? Yes. But also part of why this wilderness is so breathtaking — beauty that comes with a side of sweat, mosquito bites, and occasional fake corn dogs, but also part of the reason the beauty is priceless.
Why We Keep Doing It
We keep doing it because… well, that’s what families do. Forced fun isn’t really about fun. It’s about showing up. It’s about tolerating endless portages because someone you love spent 12 months planning every detail. It’s about laughing at your misery because if you don’t, the mosquitoes will.
Sure, we’ve never seen a moose. We’ve never paddled a canoe full of wild rice. But we’ve witnessed something just as rare:
- Mark’s joy over yet another lake and portage mileage review
- Freya’s tiny trooper spirit
- Parker’s heroic near-misses
- The priceless, untouched beauty of the Boundary Waters
That’s worth a week of blisters, sore backs, and never-ending packing.
The Takeaway
Forced fun is sacred family tradition. You’ll hate parts of it. You’ll question your sanity. You’ll wonder why you can’t just sit home with Amazon Prime and cookies. But in the end, when everyone’s finally back on solid ground, you’ll have stories you’ll groan about for years… and maybe even laugh about a little.
And Mark? He’s already planning next year’s trip. Bigger. Better. More islands. More portages. More forced fun. More hiking and probably no moose.
End of Trip 2024, a long ass trip…
- #ForcedFunFamily
- #BoundaryWatersChaos
- #CanoeLife
- #MosquitoStateBird
- #BOLOToiletSurvivor
- #CampfireChef
- #DutchOvenMagic
- #SasquatchOrMoose
- #ChaosAndGrace