Discovering America's Best Idea: A Journey Through 63 National Parks

Voyaguers National Park

Voyageurs National Park, located on the northern shores of Minnesota, is a place rich in history and natural beauty. The park is named after the French-Canadian fur traders, known as Voyageurs, who navigated these waters during the Canadian fur trade in the 18th and 19th centuries. These men were tough and resilient, enduring grueling 12-16 week journeys with far less equipment than we have today. They faced harsh weather, treacherous waters, and the constant threat of disease and injury, making their accomplishments even more impressive.

Voyageurs National Park spans across five main lakes—Rainy Lake, Kabetogama Lake, Namakan Lake, Sand Point Lake, and Crane Lake—each contributing to the park's unique landscape of interconnected waterways that stretch across the Canadian border. To celebrate our 25th anniversary together and 20 years of marriage, we decided to explore this park by houseboat on Rainy Lake, an entirely new experience for us. Armed with a detailed checklist of gear and food, and after a thorough briefing on how to operate the boat, we set off on our adventure, navigating the park's waters with just a map and navigation tools.

Our first night was spent at Kempton Channel East, R83. We grilled dinner, enjoyed drinks, and watched a beautiful sunset. The sounds of the water, the calls of loons, and the sight of an otter swimming by made for a peaceful and unique experience. The starry night sky and bright moon added to the tranquility, far removed from the usual hustle and bustle of crowded parks.

The next morning, Tim fished from the back of the boat while I tried out my new inflatable paddleboard, a recent purchase made possible by gift cards from my teaching job. The paddleboard turned out to be incredibly convenient, allowing me to paddle wherever we went. That day, I also caught my first northern pike, which was an exciting moment. We had fun exploring our surroundings in our 16' Lund fishing boat, leaving the houseboat tied up while we cruised around, enjoying the refreshing breeze. It became a running joke that starting up the fishing boat meant it was time for "air conditioning."

Our second night at Anderson Bay West, R90, was just as memorable. We swam in the lake, grilled a big ribeye, and enjoyed the sight of a giant snapping turtle, which looked like something out of a prehistoric era with its massive shell and long claws. A distant storm provided a spectacular lightning show that lit up the sky.

The next day, we cruised through Kempton Channel with the wind in my hair and the sun shining was a feeling of pure freedom. We soaked up the beauty of the surrounding area, waved to passing boats, and made mental notes of where we might want to stay on our next visit. I even took a turn at navigating the houseboat, which led to some comical moments as I struggled with the outdated cable steering system.

Our last night was spent at Dryweed Island South, R82, closer to the marina and more popular with other boaters. Despite the increased boat traffic, we managed to find a spot and enjoyed a relatively bug-free evening. The magical calls of the loons brought a smile to my face every time.

Before heading back, I took one last paddle on the peaceful waters and decided to use my new drone to capture some footage. Even though I knew the drone wasn't allowed in the park and that flying over water was not recommended, I thought it wouldn't be disruptive given our remote location. But as I paddled away, I heard the drone's fans disconnect, and it started to descend into the water. I watched helplessly, shouting "no" over and over, as it submerged. My husband quickly jumped in to try and retrieve it. After about 15 minutes of searching, I was about to give up when I noticed something—the word "Hover" inscribed in silver writing on the drone.

A "silver lining" refers to a positive aspect in an otherwise negative situation. For me, spotting that silver inscription was a small but significant bright spot in a challenging moment. I lined it up with the shoreline, and my husband made one last dive. On his third attempt, he came up with the drone in hand. I couldn't believe it had been underwater for 15 minutes and was still intact. We dried it off, and to my amazement, the drone powered up perfectly when we tested it later. The experience taught me an important lesson: always follow the rules, and next time, choose brighter-colored gear that's easier to spot if it goes missing. That silver writing on the drone was a small but meaningful silver lining that made all the difference.