To each his own

You know what I mean if you've endured arguments over dry fly vs. nightcrawler for trout, compound vs. recurve and longbow for bowhunting, semiautomatic or over and under for shotguns, or straight paddle vs. curved paddle for canoeing.

This isn't polite silliness, like, "You say toe-mayto, I say toe-mahtoe." No, these are matters of lifestyles and philosophies. Or so we say. I witnessed such a debate recently when two friends squared off in a crowded seminar room at Canoecopia, Madison's annual paddling and kayaking show.

In one corner stood Stu Osthoff, of Ely, Minnesota, who spends nearly 11 weeks each summer guiding canoe-in fishing trips to the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness (BWCAW) in northeastern Minnesota. In all, he's led more than 200 weeklong wilderness trips for people of all ages, abilities and backgrounds.

In the other corner was Rob Kesselring, of Apple Valley, Minnesota, who has completed more than 15 canoe expeditions to the Canadian arctic. He has also paddled 75 rivers worldwide and made 47 canoe trips to the BWCAW, all for the sheer joy of exploring.

Kesselring gives far more thought to portaging than paddling. Osthoff, meanwhile, views canoes as high-capacity delivery systems to remote fishing hot spots for walleye, smallmouths, lake trout and northern pike.

Osthoff, who publishes Boundary Waters Journal, likes leather boots with Gore-Tex liners while Kesselring prefers lightweight shoes with toe protectors and drainage ports. Kesselring also prefers campfires and freeze-dried meals, while Osthoff prefers two-burner stoves and freshly filleted walleye.

What sets them apart most, though, is portaging - those gear-laden, muscle-burning hikes around rapids or from river to lake. For Kesselring, seeing the same scenery twice is time wasted and calories squandered. Portages should be one-way trips, with the canoe overhead and backpack snugged behind his shoulders.

That's why Kesselring doesn't bring a pillow, books, notebook, camera, chair, binoculars. Or underwear. "I'm paddling to the next lake while Stu's still portaging," Kesselring said.

Osthoff? If a book or scenery enriches your life, why not enjoy it twice? And if a pillow, fishing lures, custom cooler, quality tent, two-burner stove, full-length fishing rod and rectangular sleeping bag mean better fishing, eating and sleeping, they're worth the round trips.

"What's so honorable about self-deprivation?" Osthoff asks.

Kesselring packs a lean-to for a tent, a half pad and mummy bag for sleeping, and no fork for his lightweight mess kit. A spoon does both jobs well enough, and his mess kit's two tin bowls double as cups and plates. If he's feeling decadent, he might pack a collapsible fishing rod.

"My friends and family always lose weight on my trips, and they appreciate their first restaurant meal all the more when we return," Kesselring said. "They also pack their own backpack the next time they come along."

What about footwear? Kesselring says water shoes weigh nothing and take him through mud, sand and water without pause. "I hop into the water as we touch shore, grab my stuff and go," he said.

Osthoff maneuvers his canoe parallel to the bank and steps onto dry land. He says hiking boots work fine for 99 percent of the Boundary Waters' portages, and provide more stable footing and ankle support.

"In all, my time out there last summer I got wet twice," he said.

Both men like rugged, lightweight Kevlar canoes, with no foot braces or other wasted space. When loaded, Kesselring's canoe floats like a feather and turns with quick flicks of the paddle.

Osthoff's canoes turn more slowly with their heavy loads, which can be as much as 1,000 pounds, including two men and their gear. Even so, they're stable and cleave the water like frigates, not battleships. "Speed is the least of my considerations," Osthoff said.

Yet another difference: Seats are unworthy of Kesselring's canoes. "I like to kneel," he said. "If you want to sit, get a kayak."

Osthoff smiles. "I like seats. Paddling from your knees is hard-core stuff. I don't know how you can cast while kneeling. That's why Rob doesn't fish much."

What they share, however, is a deep love for silence, solitude and wilderness. Plus, mutual respect and a combined 70 years of wilderness canoeing.

"The Boundary Waters for Stu Osthoff is not a vacation," Kesselring said. "It's his life and livelihood."

Osthoff returns the compliment, "Rob's been to places we all wish we could canoe; Hall of Fame trips," he said. "He's done it all."