SAWBILL LAKE, Minn. - Sitting on my Duluth Pack, with sore shoulders and tired legs, I wondered for a moment: What in the name of sanity am I doing out here in the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness in northern Minnesota?

After all, I am getting up there in years, 54, and the body just doesn't take abuse like it used to.

This had been a particularly tiresome day of paddling, portaging, paddling, portaging. Now I was sitting on my pack - which should be on my back instead of on the ground - because we very well may have hiked down a trail taking us nowhere.

We were on the wrong trail, but my frustration soon passed and I was able to get on with the trip.

Any month is a great time to visit the BWCA, an area of about 1.3 million acres of wilderness in northern Minnesota. In September, though, the crowds have dissipated, the bugs are gone, the temperatures have cooled and the leaves are starting to change.

What more could you ask for?

I try to visit the BWCA twice a year, a rather ambitious goal given the demands of family, work and the like. It has become painfully obvious to me that I won't be able to partake of the glories of the BWCA forever and I should go as much as possible when I am able.

After the traditional pancake breakfast prepared by my wife, Sue Kittelson, we left Eau Claire on a Saturday morning for Sawbill Lake, about 25 miles north of Tofte, Minn.

We were on the water by early afternoon and packed the gear into the two canoes.

This was an important trip for one of the travelers, Jon Myre of Eau Claire, who was breaking in a fine new canoe: a 16 1/2-foot Langford made in Canada. It would prove to be a worthy vessel.

We paddled and portaged through a number of "lady lakes," which all have names of females, and made camp in early evening.

One of the restrictions of fall camping is a decided lack of available sunlight compared with the summer, so we had to adapt our schedule to the time limits.

Normally when we camp, there is friendly jostling over prime tent sites. Not this time. Jon and his nephew, Aaron Jensen of Eau Claire, eschewed tent camping in favor of stringing hammocks between trees for their berths.

I, however, still prefer to sleep on the ground in a tent, as does my canoe mate, Geoffrey Benning of Eau Claire.

There are many reasons I enjoy going to the BWCA. The first, of course, is the scenery. The mixture of pristine water, the oldest rock formations in the world and the lush forests and vegetation is addicting.

I also enjoy the physical challenge, and the specter of my annual trips provides a great deal of motivation to stay in shape during the rest of the year.

A trip to the BWCA also makes life simple. There is no cell phone or Blackberry service, so I'm not checking them constantly. Existence becomes basic. We have to make three decisions each day: what time to get up, where to camp at night and what to have for dinner.

Life may be simple in the BWCA, but often it isn't easy. After a fairly routine day Sunday, the combination of portages Monday will go down as some of the most difficult I have ever done.

One portage, of just more than one-half mile, not only was rocky and hilly, which is bad enough, but also was overgrown with vegetation and had been made more difficult by a number of trees that had blown down across the trail.

Hauling a pack on your back and a canoe on your shoulders over a portage is tough; finding a way around or through downed trees makes it almost excruciating.

At least the pain makes you feel alive.

We take great pains before a trip to plan our route, meals and necessary gear. Rarely do we stick to the route plan after a couple of days. You learn to be flexible in the BWCA, and this trip was no exception.

After that tough Monday, we saw we had been too ambitious in our trip planning. The group's reluctant consensus was to trim some miles off the itinerary. It was a smart move.

The change did set up a formidable challenge: tackling a portage that measured 460 rods. A rod is 16 1/2 feet and a mile is 320 rods. So this portage was almost 1 1/2 miles.

However, as often is the case, a longer portage can be easier to traverse than a shorter one, and this one followed the rule. The portage was relatively flat and free of obstructions.

The rest of the trip was pretty routine (with the exception of the fish hook that Jon got in his hand the night before we pulled out, but that is another story) and soon it was time to paddle to civilization.

I always have a mixed feeling when leaving the BWCA for the year. I certainly am glad to be going home to my family and friends and look forward to the customary pizza at the end of the trip, but I also feel a deep sense of regret for leaving such a beautiful area.

On the trip home we already were planning the trips we will be taking next year when it's time to paddle.

Mell lives in Eau Claire.

BWCA Facts

n Extends nearly 150 miles along the international boundary adjacent to Canada's Quetico Provincial Park and bordered on the west by Voyageurs National Park.

n Contains more than 1,200 miles of canoe routes, 15 hiking trails and about 2,000 designated campsites.

n Preserved in 1926 to save its primitive character and made a part of the National Wilderness Preservation System in 1964.

Source: http://www.reserve.gov, which administers permit applications for the BWCA