Hypothermia, lightning strikes, high winds, medical emergencies, miscalculations—the dangers are real in canoe country. Last Entry Point shares tales of tragedy and near-tragedy in the Boundary Waters while offering guidance on how to avoid worst-case scenarios. Paddlers and hikers planning an excursion into the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness and Quetico Provincial Park—that storied region along the Minnesota–Ontario border made up of rock, water, and pine—usually conjure visions of sunny days, pleasant breezes, and starry nights. Though every guidebook advises being prepared, most adventurers escaping to these remote areas assume that all will be well. But even those who are thoroughly prepared—who wear their life jacket and scrupulously map their route and scan the skies for impending weather—may still encounter the unexpected. And in those cases, being ready for anything can mean the difference between a memorable trip and a life-changing, or life-ending, event. In Last Entry Point , experienced paddler and longtime regional journalist Joe Friedrichs gathers tales that involve tragedy or near-misses, interviewing people who confronted danger and walked away, as well as those whose loved ones died in the wilderness. He talks with search and rescue teams to learn what goes into finding those who go missing or who experience a medical emergency miles from help. In his explorations he considers what it means to step into the wilderness, to calmly troubleshoot problems as they present themselves, to survive a rapids or extreme weather when others in your party do not, and to be left behind when an adventurer in your life does not return home. These narratives of tragedies and hazards may seem calculated to warn BWCA enthusiasts away from their dreams, but in fact they are meant to encourage all paddlers and hikers to think through what could happen, and to be prepared for all contingencies so that, ideally, they return with their own tales that are memorable for only the best of reasons. Journalist Joe Friedrichs lives near the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness. He founded the WTIP Boundary Waters Podcast, which earned the Edward R. Murrow Award in the best podcast category in 2020. He is also the author of Her Island: The Story of Quetico’s Longest Serving Interior Ranger . His writing has appeared in Backpacker , the Star Tribune , and the Boundary Waters Journal . The day Billy Cameron died, May 20, 2020, was unpleasantly windy. It was cold the previous night, with temps dipping to the mid-thirties. This scenario is not unusual in the Boundary Waters, and most who travel in canoe country this time of year do so because many of the pesky insects known to haunt this vast wilderness are not yet in full force. Bugs or no bugs, it slowly warmed up throughout the day in coordination with strong gusts of wind from the south and east. Though it was the third week of the month, the ice had only recently come off some of the larger lakes in the BWCA and along the Gunflint Trail. It’s typical for a lake the size of Tuscarora to maintain a surface temperature of about forty-seven degrees in mid-May. In the early evening hours, Cameron, who had just celebrated his twenty-ninth birthday the day before, was fishing from shore when his line tangled in the rocky depths. He and his travel companions, Curtis Weeks and Taylor Johnson, had rented a three-person Kevlar canoe known as a Minnesota 3 from nearby Tuscarora Lodge and Canoe Outfitters. Cameron didn’t want to snap his line to free the snag, so he and his friends put on their life jackets and hopped in the canoe. After untangling the line, they decided to continue fishing from the canoe near the island. Moments later, they were hit by an easterly gust, and the canoe capsized. The three young men spent nearly fifteen minutes trying to right the watercraft to no avail. Cameron, the leader and most experienced of the group, decided they should swim toward land. The men were in peril. Weeks and Johnson were able to reach solid ground safely, though not easily in their heavy boots and clothing. Weeks made it back to the island, haggard and freezing after barreling through waves for nearly four hundred yards. Meanwhile, Johnson ended up on the north shore of the lake after he realized he couldn’t move through the waves, but only with them. After reaching land, both Johnson and Weeks started to holler. They could barely hear each other through the wind. At the very least they knew each survived the ordeal. Meanwhile, Cameron was neither heard nor seen. It’s an image that haunts his girlfriend, Nataly Yokhanis to this day: Cameron drifting alone in the cold water, fighting for air. His lungs likely filled with water at some point, the result of his desperate gasps for oxygen. The cold water gave him little hope as the situation deteriorated from scary to desperate within minutes, perhaps seconds. Cameron’s death was quick. It was not messy.