William M. Sanderson II’s book Getting the Wilderness in You is full of stories about the Gunflint Trail and the people who have lived there. Sanderson brings to life the experience of canoeing and camping up the Trail, including the feeling of anticipation while traveling up the North Shore and making a stop in Grand Marais along the way. Much of the book centers on Rolf Skrien, who owned and operated Way of the Wilderness Canoe Outfitters. Rolf was a mentor for the author and taught him important lessons about what the wilderness could offer us.
Getting the Wilderness in You is a great read for anyone who has enjoyed canoe trips up the Gunflint Trail. It’s also a great read for those who know the Rolf and Gail Skrien family or who remember Way of the Wilderness Canoe Outfitters on Lake Saganaga at the end of the Trail.
William M. Sanderson II, the author, met the Skriens on his first trip up the Trail with his aunt and uncle and three of their boys after he was orphaned as a teenager. He lived in Ohio and was thrilled to discover the wonder of the Northwoods and intrigued by the people who made their home in the wilderness.
On the first trip, Sanderson camped on an island with his aunt and uncle and ventured out on a five-day canoe trip from there with his cousins. On his second trip the next year, Sanderson and his cousins went out for eight days. When they returned, he was invited to spend the summer working for Way of the Wilderness, which he did.
Sanderson tells a lot of stories about Rolf Skrien, including his role in the Hamm’s Beer commercials that were shot at the end of the Gunflint Trail. Sanderson learned a lot about how the Skriens arrived on the Gunflint Trail, how they came to start an outfitters, and what life there was like in the mid-1900s, including how neighbors worked together each winter to harvest ice.
Regarding Rolf ’s recollections of the Hamm’s Beer commercials, Sanderson wrote, “The one thing they did not do was touch up the color. They said the colors were so perfect and contrasting that they were just right the way they were. …[Rolf] always said that this country is so beautiful, there is nothing you can do to improve it.”
Sanderson recounts a story Rolf told about a man who fell in a lake while harvesting ice. The temperature was about 25 below zero. Rolf and another man pulled him out of the water and tried to talk him into warming up in the house on shore, but he insisted in driving his old Army truck—which had no heat in it— to his own place about two miles away. Rolf and the other guy followed him, arriving just as the man was trying to get out of his truck.
“Just as we thought,” Rolf said, “he couldn’t get out because he was frozen to the seat and stiff as a board. We tugged and pulled to get him out and had to drag him in a sitting position all the way to his cabin. Once we got the kitchen stove going, we were able to thaw him out, and he was fine.”
Sanderson learned a lot from his experiences in the wilderness. “When on a canoe trip, isolated from civilization, and with only your clothes, tents, a little food and a fishing pole,” he wrote, “you begin to realize how simple life can be. …It also makes you see how much attention we spend on other things in life when the modern conveniences are provided. Unfortunately, having more time to spend on the ‘other things’ often complicates our lives, adds stress, and prevents us from appreciating life.”
Sanderson quotes Rolf: “Quite simply, I always had the goal of trying to get the wilderness in people. …When I first was guiding up here, we would get executives in from Chicago who were sent by their companies. There were usually one or two guys in a group who would be grumbling about why they were up here. They would say things like, ‘All you have here is water, stones, and trees.’
“I’d work with them, and usually by the end of their time they would be the saddest to leave. I always wanted to get the wilderness in people so they could appreciate the simplicity and rustic true nature of things, something they would never experience in the city.
“You’d be surprised how often guys would bare their souls sitting in an aluminum fishing boat. I always kind of felt I may have made a difference in people’s lives just by connecting them to the wilderness and listening to them. I’ve seen a lot of minds changed in these moments.”
Sanderson writes about the people and history of the area, including Sigurd Olson, Dorothy Molter, Ollor Snevets, Ham and Pearl Muus, and some of the Ojibwe families such as Mary (Ottertail) and Jack Powell and their daughter Tempest, who married Irv Benson. Between the mid-40s and mid-70s (when the Skriens sold the business and moved to Grand Marais), Rolf found many artifacts from as far back as the voyageur era, including knives, shotgun shells with solid brass casings, cooking pots, tin match containers, pipes, and even a voyageur’s belt.
“I am convinced that there is great wisdom in Rolf ’s desire to get the wilderness in people,” Sanderson says at the end of his book. “I finally understand the meaning of what he meant when he said that man cannot make the wilderness, but the wilderness can make the man.
“Rolf has spent his life learning about and sharing his knowledge of the wilderness, and he touched many generations beyond his own. He made his love of the wilderness his life’s work and used his influence in meaningful ways.
“We never know what a difference we make in someone’s life. Rolf always said, ‘When you paddle into the wilderness, look for God. He’s all over the place.’”
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