Retired Sault Saint Marie firefighter Bruce Lash is one of the “original ten”— a group of core paddlers who joined Great Lakes sea kayak pioneer Stan Chladek for the very first Gales of November on a blustery Halloween weekend 29 years ago. The concept then, as it remains today, is to gather for a social weekend of rough water paddling, story telling and general merry-making on the wild shores of Lake Superior, at a time of year notorious for laker-sinking storms.

In those nearly three decades, the number of participants at the invitation-only event has swelled as high as 50 and dropped to just a handful. Recently, with Chladek and many of the original 10 reaching senior citizen status, the gathering has peaked at 15 or so participants. This year, I join Lash, former Adventure Kayak editor Tim Shuff, and frequent contributor Conor Mihell to round out a party of five to seven that also includes veteran Marquette boater Sam Crowley and locals Ray Boucher and David Wells. Health issues, work commitments and the temptation of rain-swollen creeks have kept other regulars away. The forecast for tame offshore winds hasn’t helped either.

Basing out of Wells’ Michipicoten Bay-based outfitters for the weekend, we thaw requisite neoprene and Gore-tex garb in a diverse assemblage of wood stove-heated dwellings: the outfitter’s capacious staff cabin, Lash’s cozy tipi, and Mihell’s canvas prospector tent. Puddles and forgotten beer bottles develop frozen skims overnight, but the lake remains as inviting as a chilled punchbowl.

Although gale-force winds don’t grace our humble gathering, we enjoy an exciting downwind run from Michipicoten to the towering cliffs of Old Woman Bay, scarfing left-over Halloween candy around a driftwood campfire at a lunch stop near Brulé Harbour. Sunny skies and sub-zero temperatures the following day invite a coastal journey north from Montreal River. The river mouth’s often gut-clenching surf is today just a few small bumps, and we revel instead in intimate exploration of waterfalls tumbling from the cliffs and rippled golden sand beneath Caribbean-blue waters.

Sharing tales from past events is a Gales tradition. With his larger-than-life personality, Chladek usually holds the floor as the event’s chief storyteller. In his absence, however, we goad story after hilariously told story from Lash: the classic tale of Ron Monkman’s near-death swim at Agawa Rock, and a Slate Islands trip on which a tripmate insisted on making the 10-km return crossing to the mainland butt naked…

The Gales of November celebrates its 30th anniversary in 2014.

Read about the open-registration Gales Gathering in the Spring 2013 issue of Adventure Kayak