Scrapbook AdventuresBackpacking Across Isle Royale - 10/98
Text and photos by Kip LadagePage 2The remainder of the day's hiking was uneventful. As always, we kept our eyes open for moose or maybe one of the few wolves inhabiting Isle Royale.
After joining the Greenstone Ridge Trail, our views changed from lowland vegetation to more exposed ridge tops. Since it was the middle of October, we also noticed the wind. As long as we were moving along and generating our own head of steam, we were plenty warm. But if we would stop for more than a minute or two, we wanted to put our long pants on. If it wouldn't have been for the effort required to dig through the packs, we probably would have done so.
Our day ended at the West Chickenbone Lake campground. While hiking
toward the campsite, we heard voices - a Boy Scout troop was camping nearby. Darrin and I are both involved in scouting, so we used the chance meeting to share thoughts and opinions relating to the scouting program with our neighbors.
I must say, we had no problems with the neighboring troop. In fact, they hit the trail earlier than we did the next morning and we did not hear them leave. A quick inspection of their campsite revealed a spotless overnight stop. Good Job Guys!
Our destination for the new day was Hatchet Lake, a short 7.9 miles away. Rolling terrain made the hiking easy. Again, we kept a close watch for moose, but saw none. Evidence of their presence was everywhere: tracks, scat, hair, and the browse line. It was easy to measure their impact on the surrounding vegetation.
The ever changing altitude provided an unplanned benefit. I was finally able to test my new Casio Pathfinder watch/altimeter/barometer for accuracy. According to the owner's manual, changing barometric pressure affects its accuracy. But, according to the watch, the pressure was stable. I set a reference according to my topo-map and tracked our progress throughout the hike. As advertised, the watch accurately measured our altitude. (It's funny what you do to entertain yourself while hiking.)
We ended our day at the Hatchet Lake campground. Another impressive sunset capped our night, or so we thought. After several hours of restful sleep, I was startled out of my slumber. "Darrin, we have company," I said in a whisper. A low guttural noise accompanied by ever louder and approaching crunching leaves could clearly be heard.
Imagine this: Two grown men, wandering around outside of their small tent on an island in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of night, in their long underwear, looking for the source of a mysterious noise with tiny, AA-powered flashlights. Obviously, we saw nothing, which was not relaxing. We were forced to retire to the relative safety of the tent.
It didn't take long before the noise came eerily closer. Finally, either the light inside the tent or the rustling of our movement, startled the creatures outside the tent. In their haste to make a safe getaway, a calf moose nearly stumbled over a guy line on the tent. A couple of feet in the wrong direction and the poor thing would have been in the tent with us! For many minutes after the excitement we continued to hear grunting.
As soon as we woke the following morning, we began our search for the moose. Only a couple hundred yards away we found our quarry. An impressive bull moose and his cow with a calf were browsing through the brush. Apparently the animals had attracted the attention of another group of nearby campers; they too were watching the moose. We all maintained a safe distance from the massive creatures while enjoying our brush with wildlife.
Our plans for this day on Isle Royale were to cover the distance to Island Mine, a distance of slightly less than 13 miles.
We didn't expect to see anything out of the ordinary, except for maybe another moose (or an elusive wolf). Our expectations proved accurate. Other than the fire look-out tower at Ishpeming Point, the hike was uneventful. Quiet, unassuming hikes are always welcome, and this trip to Isle Royale was providing one ideal day after another.
Finally, after a several hours of moving one foot in front of the other, we reached the trail spur to Island Mine. For me, the trail had been disappearing under one easy footstep after another. The weather was overcast and less than ideal for photo making so I paused very little. Even after nearly 13 miles of hiking, I wasn't ready to quit for the day.
I waited for Darrin to arrive at the trail sign so I could offer a suggestion: "Lets finish it out!" My idea was less than well received. However, after an extended restful discussion, we again strapped our packs on our backs to continue on to Windigo. The extra distance would mean 6+ more miles.
Since the hiking was nearly downhill the entire distance, our mileage per
hour was easy to measure: blazing. In only an hour or two more, we had reached Windigo, our final campsite for the journey.
After finally locating an empty shelter (We were near Lake Superior again so development was apparent), we followed our well established ritual . . . filter water, set-up the tent, clean-up, eat, watch the stars overhead while drinking hot chocolate, and go to sleep. Needless to say, after hiking slightly less than 20 miles, we ate heartily and slept soundly. The fact that we had reached our final destination plenty early, which meant we would not miss the boat, helped us to sleep good.
On our final morning on Isle Royale, Darrin and I both took time to hike around the port without our packs on. We also shared our experiences with other hikers who were destined for the mainland with us. As far as I could tell, nobody really wanted to leave Isle Royale. However, we all knew we would have to return to the ritual called daily life.
Like clockwork, the drone of the Voyager II could be heard. It was time to pack gear back on the ferry for our return to Grand Portage, Minnesota.
Unlike the apprehensive excitement we felt when headed toward Isle Royale, the return trip was a much quieter float across Lake Superior. Most of us sat quietly on the ferry as we traveled toward home -- wherever that may be. The reporter from the Washington Post was still interviewing a few hikers, others slept, and some just reflected on the past few days.
In conclusion, my first trip to Isle Royale National Park proved to be my favorite to date. The solitude was second to none, the scenery was breathtaking, and the cleansing of the inner spirit that occurred in such a heaven-like place was worth every bit of the effort the island demanded.
For more information on backpacking across Isle Royale, click here.
Click here to link to Ladage Photography and Destinations.