One of the most familiar maxims is that "getting there is half the fun." The idea is that many good and memorable things can happen along the way, not just at your destination. I would expand this to say that plan- ning can be an enjoyable

part of "getting

there, " and the process can greatly expand and enrich any adventure, big or small.

Within a few days my son, daughter and I will return to one of my favorite places, the Brule River in northwest Wisconsin, to canoe, fish, relax a lot and simply enjoy one another's company. The Brule is a half hour or so east of the Lake Superior port of Superior, Wisconsin. It's sometimes called "the river of presidents," since at least five are known to have stayed nearby and fished its waters, which run for about 20 miles from the interior to the shores of Gitchee Gumee itself.

The Brule is a popular destination for canoeists, anglers and kayakers. So popular, in fact, that anglers have referred to the canoe traffic as the "aluminum hatch," abundant enough to resemble the insect hatches that contribute to the Brule's sometimes fabulous fishing. Of course, today many of those canoes and the increasingly common kayaks, are made of Kevlar or other space-age materials, not aluminum; but the complaint is still valid (my loyalty is with the angling camp).

After the Brule watershed was opened up to fur trapping, followed by logging in the 19th century, its heavily timbered shores became a retreat for the wellto do. High-end summer cottages and estates popped up like jack pine seedlings after a forest fire. Over the years much of the Brule's shoreline beyond the estates was acquired by the state of Wisconsin, to preserve its wild character and assure public access. The Brule is one of the most deserving members of the elite that have received federal protection as a Wild and Scenic River.

I fished this beautiful and historic river occasionally during college and prefamily days and then after a long absence returned to float and fish it with my wife's brother. As our children grew, we began bringing them, too. Now, with families taking paths to other life destinations, I make the trip when I can with my daughter and son, she now in a career, he still a student.

This year's trip has special meaning, because come August my son will head off to college. It seems inevitable that school and work schedules, summer jobs, friendships, perhaps even romance, will add complicating variables to the oncesimple equation of having time together. "Who knows when, or if…" is the unanswerable question that adds urgency to a getaway like this one.

Our headquarters is a log cabin, not a tent, so the

planning is not as involved as it could be. But any trip - even a long weekend - deserves serious thought and preparation, to avoid the unpleasant consequences of leaving something important undone, or - worse yet - at home.

A case in point: I discovered a split in the blade of one of our canoe paddles, which might have gone unnoticed when we last used it, or perhaps delaminated in storage. It might hold up, but a broken paddle is not something you want when you're several hours from the next landing. Better to repair it now, or consider whether the budget can absorb the cost of a new

one. This paddle has good

memories - "good karma" - attached to it, so I think I

know what I'll do.

One of the unpleasant realities of life in the Upper Midwest is insect pests. The Boundary Waters canoe area wilderness is famous for these and even my own backyard - not far from the Mississippi - can be a battlefi eld at times. I've usually not found the mosquitoes or

biting flies to be as bad on

the Brule; but you never say "never," so it would be foolish

to launch a canoe on a five or six hour float without serious "bug dope" armament in the duffel bag.

I'm sure the French fur traders who paddled and portaged the "Bois Brule" would think us hopeless wusses for our preoccupation with being comfortable, but our payoff at the end of a trip like this is in memories, not mink or beaver pelts. Good memories can be in short supply without reasonable comfort. That means being prepared and adequately geared up.

Insurance for this includes rain gear, just in case and sunscreen or a hat and long-sleeved shirt to avoid a painful sunburn. A first aid kit for blisters on civilization softened paddling hands, campfire burns or a hook puncture, is a must; personal medications would be included here, too. With a simple kitchen in the cabin we'll be using, there'll be meal planning, grocery list making and shopping, maybe even a duty list for cooking and other chores. Fishing gear and short-stay nonresident fishing licenses will be needed, too. And of course, the camera.

Even though it's our intention to leave our everyday lives behind (mine, anyway), a charged-up cell phone in a weatherproof bag is a good ace-in-thehole in case of real trouble. The destination and the cell phone provider's service grid, of course, will determine whether the device will even function. (An emergency-only phone rule would be my preference to ensure some solitude. But

in this three-person democracy,

I will - unfortunately - have just one vote.)

This is just the tip of the iceberg and our list is still growing. Of course, your planning and preparations for an outdoor adventure will be dictated by where you're going, what you intend to do there and the crew participating in the adventure. Involve the others in the planning process from the start (you can decide whether veto power is in order on some issues.). It adds measurably to the fun if you approach it as an opportunity, rather than an obstacle.