June 13, 2000
Another week of vacation finally arrived
and with it another trip to Isle Royale National Park was planned.
This time, our trip would be a bit different than the last hike we enjoyed
on the island. Instead of hiking with a group of people, the trip
would include only my hiking buddy Darrin and me. Originally my daughter
Hannah and her friend Heidi were going to hike with us, but the pre-trip
training proved they were not ready for the rigors of a week long hike
on the reportedly most demanding trail on the island. Instead, this
became a quiet, "relaxing" getaway for Darrin and me.
Before we stepped foot on the island, I became
concerned that the hike may not go as well as previous hikes. To
begin with, rain was predicted. We hadn't received much rain prior
to the trip, so any rain that fell would be welcome. Second, the
night before we left, as I performed my final packing, our family hound
invaded my food bag. Finally, we ran out of gas en route to Grand
Portage, Minnesota, about 6-8 miles north of Silver Bay. To our surprise,
a nearby homeowner always kept a 5 gallon tank of gas available for stranded
motorists. We happily used it (and refilled it)!
We arrived in Grand Marais, Minnesota around
7:30 p.m. Much to our surprise, nearly every motel in the area was
full or wanted $100.00 for a room. Being the cheapskates that we
are, Darrin and I settled for a $32.00 room at the East Bay Hotel.
Amenities were limited -- we shared a shower and bathroom that was located
4 or 5 doors down a hall with other guests. Our room was crooked
with questionable electrical wiring, and the TV received 1 channel (sort
of) when I correctly wired 5 coat hangers to a curtain rod. But,
the room was clean and available, so we took it! Besides, it reminded
us of Petticoat Junction, the old tv show.
After moving our gear into the room, Darrin
and I enjoyed our last "good" meal for several days at Sven and Ollie's
-- one of the best pizza places around.
June 14, 2000
A good, sound sleep ended when we woke to
cold temperatures, drizzle, and occasional rain. We began the first
day 
of
our adventure getting soaked as we loaded gear into the truck for the drive
to the port. The light drizzle became a steady rain by the time we
reached the ferry (Voyager II) docked at Grand Portage, Minnesota.
Oh well, there was nothing we could do but tolerate the rain, so we did!
Since Darrin and I had been through the ferry
loading routine before, we both helped load backpacks and kayaks onto the
upper deck of the boat. Then, at 8:05 a.m., our journey officially
began. We were off on a float to McCargo Cove, with an intermediate
stop at Windigo where we received our backcountry instructions and permits.
Finally, somewhere between 1:30 and 1:40
p.m. we reached McCargo Cove, our beginning point on the Minong Ridge trail.
Four of us left the Voyager II at McCargo Cove -- Darrin and me, and two
canoeing sisters. It was really an odd feeling to see the ferry leave
while knowing you are now "on your own." Even though we had been
there before, the excitement and apprehension grew when we were left on
an island by ourselves.
Nearly as soon as we finally hit the trail,
the trail began to climb. It only made sense that we would need to
gain altitude if we were going to hit the Minong Ridge. Our
itinerary for the day consisted of a 6.8 mile hike to Todd Harbor.
Both of us were quite surprised by the general
lack of variety in scenery on the first stretches of the trail to the Minong
Ridge. Instead of one sweeping scenic vista after another scenic
vista, we hiked through densely vegetated forest. Sometimes the leafy
cover was so thick we were unable to gain a clear view of the sky over
head.
Fortunately, insect troubles were minimal,
considering the season we were in. Those that did bother were gnats,
mosquitos, and deer flies. Plant life was limited to four or five
varieties of blooming plants. Even more scarce was the bird life.
Only the cormorants, loons, sea gulls, and mergansers were observed, mostly
at the dock area. I did watch three fledgling blue jays along the
trail, but nothing else. One solitary moose allowed us to capture
a glimpse of it before it vanished into the thick underbrush along the
trail. I was a bit disappointed that I wasn't able to photograph
the animal, but hopeful that I would see more before the hike was over.
Our camp for the first night on Isle Royale
was at Todd Harbor. We were surprised to find two hikers (and their
friend) who we met on a previous hike across Isle Royale. Shad was
going to have some trouble on this trip since he somehow forgot his tent
at Bob's Motel in Thunderbay, Canada. He explained how he bartered
string cheese for room in a shelter 
that
National Park Service staff were using. We later learned how he had
to crowd in with Kurt and Julie later in the week. I felt sorry for
him since it rained nearly every day we were on Isle Royale.
It didn't take long after we reached camp
to establish our backpacking routine. We would filter plenty of water
for cooking and cleaning, do a general clean-up of ourselves, cook supper,
and watch the sun set. Somewhere in there we always tried to take
time to make our journal entries.
Following a slightly delicious freeze-dried
meal and a brief episode of sunset gazing, I fell soundly asleep.
In fact, I slept so soundly that I did not hear it rain during the night.
June 15, 2000
Geez, I slept until nearly 9:00 a.m.!
I seldom sleep in and when I do, I often feel I have to catch up for "time
wasted." That meant we didn't waste much time eating a light breakfast
of pop-tarts and packing our packs. We only had 6.9 miles to cover
during the day, but with a late start, I was anxious to head down the trail.
However, before we could even begin our hike, we first made a side-trip
of about 1/3 of a mile to the Haytown Mine and a series of waterfalls nearby.
What we found at the Haytown Mine were waterfalls
certainly worth the extra time and effort. A series of gorgeous waterfalls
created a stair step path for the small stream to drop down before falling
violently into Lake Superior. Both Darrin and I exposed many frames
of films of the waterfalls from all angles and at all shutter speeds.
We also used
the falls as a test to decide whether or not carrying a lightweight tripod
was worth the effort. (I was pleasantly surprised when the images
returned from the lab and looked nearly as good as reality!)
After nearly an hour of waterfall photography,
we felt the need to leave the area and turn our attention to covering some
miles on the Minong Ridge. In hindsight, the trail conditions were
not as difficult as we had expected and we could have allowed ourselves
more time at the mines. Maybe next time . . .
The next section of the Minong Ridge trail
can best be described as a series of ups and downs, but mostly ups, or
so it seemed. The lower levels of the trail were often muddy bogs
and swamps. Some segments of the trail had boardwalks constructed
over the wet areas, but not 
all
of them. One creek crossing required us to balance on downed trees
as we walked over relatively fast moving water. Only a handful of
scenic vistas were available between Todd Harbor and Little Todd.
Instead, the trail again had a thick canopy overhead nearly everywhere.
Flora and fauna attractions were nearly identical
to the previous day, except that we didn't see any moose. The closest
thing I found to a moose was one side of a shed antler. The polished,
bright white bone drew my attention nearly immediately while Darrin never
even saw it. (Ironically, I missed one later in the week that Darrin
found to be obvious.)
A lone loon entertained us during and after
our supper at Little Todd. Again, for me the menu was freeze-dried
something or other. Darrin used the adventure to test several home
recipes. Some of his delicacies looked rather tempting. However,
watching him forcefully squirt chunky peanut butter from a squeeze tube
left me less than hungry and taught us both a good lesson: test things
out at home before carrying the weight for a week.
Except for the lapping of the waves on Lake
Superior and an occasional plane flying overhead, the wind was the only
sound we heard. Darkness brought with it another night of steady
rain and comfortable sleep.
June 16, 2000
Rain, rain, rain -- all night long.
By morning we were enduring a couple of real downpours. So much so
that we stayed in the tent an extra hour or two. Again, the extra
time in the tent meant another late start, which meant I was eager to get
my pack on and hit the trail as soon as the weather broke. The only
delay to beginning the day was to watch a belted kingfisher go in and out
of its sandy nest hollowed into the side of the trail near our tent.
When the rain finally did subside, we were
blessed with nearly perfect hiking conditions. A somewhat steady
breeze kept some, but not all, bugs away. The sun shone most of the
day through puffy cumulus clouds -- ideal conditions for hiking 5.7 miles
to North Lake Desor. We had a few more sprinkles fall on us
while preparing supper, but nothing too serious.
Early descriptions of the Minong Ridge proved
to be true on the segment of trail between Little Todd and North Lake Desor.
A description of "challenging" comes to mind. First we would climb
up one path, only to go down another. The trail popped up and down
all day long. Difficult as it 
may
have been, the views were absolutely stunning. Rugged, rocky outcroppings
interspersed between short intervals of timbered trail hiking.
Wildlife was plentiful as well. We
saw no moose or wolves, but smaller fauna was present in many areas.
Several spring peeper frogs were living in the damp areas of the rocky
overlooks. Garter snakes were seen a couple of times sunning themselves,
at least until we came along. Then we'd catch a glimpse of them slithering
under cover of the jagged rocks of the Minong Ridge. When we stopped
to watch one spring peeper, we were also treated to a red-belly snake.
Slightly larger than a big earthworm, red-bellies are normally rather passive.
This little guy tried pretty hard to leave impressions in our fingers,
but his small 
size
made his goals impossible. We shot a few photos of him and let him
go. I also scared one very vocal northern goshawk from a short pine
tree near the trail. We had been warned that nesting goshawks may
attack, but this one just made a lot of noise before flying off to a more
secluded area. I was disappointed that I didn't have the opportunity
to shoot any photos of such an impressive bird.
Other wildlife observed were countless slugs.
Some portions of the trail seemed to be saturated with the slimy critters,
while others seemed void of them. Perhaps the most plentiful non-human
creatures on the trail were the gnats. I rapidly lost count of the
welts I developed in this single day.
Our camp for the night was situated on the
north shore of Lake Desor, a pleasant, sizable lake that also has an attractive
backpacker's campground on its south shore. Loons called from the
shoreline while cormorants and seagulls flew past us. Most surprising
to us at North Lake Desor was the long-lasting rainbow that formed directly
across from our campsite. I am not sure I can
suggest a better way to end a long, demanding day than to watch a brilliant
rainbow slowly fade from the sky while the sun slowly sets.
As Darrin and I were beginning to end our
activities for the day, two other groups of hikers joined us at the North
Lake Desor campsite area. The first group were four guys who had
flown in to the island. Five young women from Camp Voyager, near
Ely, Minnesota, made up the second group. Both sets of hikers followed
the same route, but the guys did it in five and a half hours while the
girls needed eleven and a half hours to cover the mileage. The route
both groups of hikers followed was the same path we would take the next
morning.
Interestingly, all of the few people we met
on the trail warned us of the upcoming wet crossings. Rolling logs
(in water), beaver dams, bogs, swamps, and other slippery treats were the
agenda for us for our next day on Isle Royale. We had no choice but
to hike the nearly 13 miles to Windigo, our departure point. Neither
of us were too concerned about the reported obstacles. Everything
had gone well so far, so we 
expected
another day of great hiking.
June 17, 2000
Wow, another superb night for sleeping and
another great day on Isle Royale. This was the big day we had both
planned for -- high mileage and challenging trail conditions. We
wasted no time sleeping late or with camp duties. Instead, we promptly
downed a couple more pop-tarts, filtered water, and loaded our packs for
the trek to Windigo through some of the reportedly worse trail conditions
on the island.
The first few miles of trail were not much
different than the previous two days -- ups and downs, the rocky spine
of the Minong Ridge, tree shaded woodsy paths, and an occasional wet area.
In fact, I was beginning to doubt those folks we spoke to earlier who had
advised us of difficult areas. We simply hadn't seen any!
Darrin and I hike at very different speeds,
which means we are almost always hiking apart from each other. This
day was no different. My cadence carried me twenty to thirty minutes
ahead of him on the trail. By hiking separately, we both experience
the challenges of route finding, the thrills of new, interesting views,
and the pleasure of solitude. But, when trouble arises, it also means
you must wait for your partner to realize you have slowed. You are
forced to deal with whatever you meet on a one-on-one basis. Such
was the case near the first swampy overlook on this stretch of the trail.
As I peered over the rocky ledge to scan
the swamp below, I noticed ring patterns on the glassy-smooth water.
Obviously, something was creating those rings - but what was it?
Very little time passed before a huge bull moose wallowed into view.
His face and rack were completely submerged as he rooted around in the
bottom of the swamp.
Finally, after three trips to Isle Royale,
I was observing the main attraction of the island! I wanted to yell
back to Darrin but I knew that would bother the moose. All I could
do was set my camera on my tripod and shoot photos. I hoped the moose
would feed long enough for Darrin to see it too.
I shot photo after photo while looking down
at the massive beast. His size was so impressive and his movements
so lumbering, yet the scene was very tranquil. He went about his
business while I peaked in for a brief time.
After nearly twenty minutes of feeding (while
I watched him), the moose decided he had fed enough and backtracked through
the swamp. From the direction the animal was headed, I could tell
he had few options but to cross the trail somewhere ahead of me.
Since I was not interested in a face to face meeting with the bull, I decided
to give him plenty of time before I continued down the trail -- a route
that left me exposed in the swamp just a short distance away.
Nearly 15 minutes passed while I ate a light
lunch allowed the moose time to move ahead of me. Although I was
unable to see very far down the trail, I was certain the bull must have
crossed the Minong Ridge Trail and moved into the timber beside it.
Where else could have he been? His only other option was the steep
hillside leading down from the trail to the swamp. An animal of his
size certainly wouldn't be comfortable on terrain of that angle, would
he?
After giving the moose what I thought was
plenty of time to move on, I put my pack on and began the hike down the
trail. I was wishing Darrin had been there to see the powerful bull
in such a splendid setting. Such an extended sighting of a bull moose
doesn't happen often.
No more than 15 yards down the trail I realized
was not alone. I had hiked past the point of backtracking and I felt
like I was being watched. Much to my surprise, there on the sharply
angled side of the bluff was the bull moose. I had passed within
a few feet of the animal and didn't realize it. While attempting
to heed the park service's warnings of keeping a stout tree between me
and the moose, I realized only one tree of enough size remained between
me and the moose. If I continued down the path, I would be in a clearing
with nothing between me and a possibly aggressive moose. Backstepping
wouldn't work since I would again approach within a few feet of the moose.
My only option was to remain near the tree and wait for the moose to return
to the swamp, or at least give some indication which direction he was going.
Since I didn't feel threatened, and the moose
apparently didn't either, we both stayed where we were -- me shooting pictures,
the moose feeding. Finally, after what seemed like a 
long
time, I spotted Darrin on the top of the bluff. He could not see
me clearly and certainly didn't see the moose, just as I hadn't seen it.
I used my most creative hand gestures to silently explain the situation.
He still was not able to spot the animal.
Suddenly and without warning, the moose either
became curious or slightly aggressive. However his mood is described,
he lumbered toward me to check me out. I had no choice but the jump
over the edge of the bluff, behind that last stout, protective tree.
There we were, the moose on one side of the tree and me on the other.
If I looked to one side, the moose did too. We began a strange game
of human/animal peek-a-boo!
I talked in a low voice, hoping the animal
would choose to move on, but no, he stayed put. Even my moving around
behind the tree didn't convince the bull to move on. When the bull
approached close enough to the tree that I could have reached around and
touched him, I decided he was too close. A quick yell to Darrin should
have moved him on, but he stayed nearby. I yelled again to Darrin
who then yelled back. There, that caught the moose's attention.
When Darrin yelled a second time, the moose decided it was time to move
on. Within seconds the bull had vanished into the thick underbrush
of Isle Royale. I slowly climbed out and sat down to allow time for
my knees to support me again. Needless to say, the close proximity
of the bull had me very concerned. Unfortunately, Darrin was not
able to capture a "good" photo of the bull.
All of the excitement created by the moose
temporarily caused me to forget about the upcoming interesting portions
of the trail. It took only minutes on the trail before my memory
was refreshed. As soon as we reached the lower segments of the Minong
Ridge, we hit wet, boggy areas. There were a few sections of trail
where boardwalks had been constructed, but not many. In a few areas
we enjoyed trekking over bridges made of birch logs. Some moved when
we stepped on them, some didn't.
After making several crossings on the birch
log bridges, I thought maybe we had missed the "bad" crossing several previous
hikers had warned us about. In fact, I became rather proud and confident
that I was able to hike the entire week without getting my boots soaked.
Then I saw it . . . the dreaded crossing we had been told about.
The bridge consisted of two logs 15 to 20
feet long that were held in place on each end with two short posts driven
into the muck. By constructing the bridge in this manner, hikers
were provided with a double thrill -- the logs sank vertically when we
stood on them, plus they rotated under our weight! I was sure the
bridge would be great training for a budding circus entertainer.
Even with our walking sticks, the crossing was a challenge and not one
to be successfully completed on a first attempt. On my third attempt
I was able to cross the water without getting wet. Darrin wasn't
so lucky and ended up with a wet boot as he made the crossing.
After the challenging bridge crossing, the
trail quickly became drier and easier to follow. By following an
extensive series of switch backs and ramblings through the timbered area
closer to Windigo, we soon realized the satisfaction of completing another
hike across Isle Royale.
Shortly after reaching the NPS buildings
at Windigo, we were greeted by the camp fox. According to the Park
Service staff, the fox is nothing more than a pesky, daring thief and is
more than willing to steal from your pack if he thinks he can eat it.
Of course we also
were met by other hikers who were about to begin their own adventure across
Isle Royale.
For us, the trek was over. We quickly
boarded the Winona (one day early) for the return to Grand Portage and
the long drive back to Iowa. We are now in the process of planning
for a return trip in September. That adventure will include several
students from an Environmental Science class at the local community college.
Until then, we enjoy our slides and many fond memories from another hike
across Isle Royale.
For more information on backpacking
across Isle Royale, click here.
