Hikes

Glamping at Cuyahoga, Singing Sands, That’s Not a Gate, and Unmowed Grass

uniquelytheo2 Comments

It is always hard to leave family especially sinceI  I have fallen in love with the family dog.  Carmel is a black labrador retriever and two years old.  She loves people and I was her person the whole 10 days I was there. She slept with me and followed me everywhere. Needless to say I am in Carmel withdrawal.  But alas, I also dearly miss my son Nick and daughter-in-law Miriam. But I loaded up my piles of gear into Lady Spitfire. Leaving one’s  car parked on a Philadelphia street loaded with STUFF invites a break in so we wisely unloaded everything for the duration of the stay.  I was off by 9:30 and ,as luck would have it for the sake of efficiency, I ended up driving out on the Schuylkill Expressway – the road I have always desperately wanted to avoid due to  its 24/7, 7 day a week traffic jam. But I didn’t have a meltdown and before too long I was on the Pennsylvania Turnpike, watching the ching-ching chang of the Pikes cash register add up the miles and thus the dollars for me to traverse this massive construction project and truck conveyor belt all the way to Ohio.  Of course Ohio has the same idea about commandeering my wallet and letting  the turnpike authority help itself to the contents. All of this wallet opening happened so I could get from A-Z in a bit more timely fashion than taking the secondary roads.   I grit my teeth and grasp the steering tightly but I am not sure how either one of these response helps me navigate this parade of semi-trucks barreling down the highway at 70 mph all the while squeezing me up close to the unyielding cement barriers on my left and their middle line on hugging  right. I try and weave my way from behind to, around to, ahead of these massive vehicles carrying all that “made-in-China”  merchandise we just can’t live without. But I finally made it to Cuyahoga State Park and my lodging for the next two nights was at Valley Overlook.  I am not sure exactly how one defines glamping but this is the closest I haver come to it since I was on a safari in Africa years ago. This extra large canvas tent was a great way to ease back into “camping” after the hiatus of family and friend visits.  It was an almost real bedroom  except for the fact the walls were canvas, there was no electricity, water  or attached bathroom. The bath/shower unit was up a short steep hill and after trudging up the first time and barely “making it, ” I did something I would never in my wildest dreams imagine me doing. I drove up. An added bonus, I could avoid a massive wasps nest needing to be passed a short distance away.

August 14th was a full day to explore and I had not known how best to approach maximizing my experience of Cuyahoga NP. It is a patchwork of many smaller areas including not only parkland designated to protect the Cuyahoga river but interspersed with villages and farms. I had not done any prior reading about the park and its options. Miriam told me about a train ride through the park so I investigated that and booked a ticket on the Cuyahoga Scenic Railroad for late morning. This two hour train ride out from Peninsula Depot to North Akron and back was pleasant enough and the park volunteer shared a fair amount interesting history but perhaps the route is scenic for Ohio but at no point was I wowed by the surrounds. The scene was of pleasant villages and a countryside of mostly forests, rivers and meadows. The upside was it gave me a good idea of some things I might explore further or NOT. The trip back was a bit “sad.” The train tour guide gave almost no additional commentary. I made my way though our train car and I saw most people focused on their phones, others having loudish conversations drowning out anything the narrator might want to add, some sleeping in their seat, and in general not paying much attention to anything out there. Granted we had “been there” but I often find I can glean a lot more on the “second time round.”

After finding a convenience store to get gas and restock the ice in my cooler, I stopped at the Boston Mill Visitors Center to get more information on trails. It was also an opportunity to get close to the winding Cuyahoga River.

I was eager to get out on a hike with the first hiking choice was the Beaver Marsh Boardwalk . I have been told it is definitely an active area for beaver lodges but either my eyesight is totally myopic or on this day, as often happens, they were doing their interior housekeeping in their hidden lodges. But it did give me a short hike on the Erie Canal Path and a lovely mostly shaded walk in  the woods.

Determined to find something more challenging, I decided on hiking at least part of The Ledges Trail.  The Ledges Overlook is touted for its vista of the Cuyahoga Valley and a hike of moderate difficulty. A coin toss (not really) landed me hiking the route clockwise which was probably the wrong choice but from the starting point I saw several couples headed that way.  The distance to the most notable spot was significant longer than if I had chose the opposite direction  of the loop. This is of course in hindsight. I was quite fascinated by the geology of the area and immediately there was an array of sandstone ledges forming sheer cliffs, narrow and deep crevices , moss and lichen covered rocks, rocky and boulder strewn sections  in between sections of gravel path.

I am glad I had the experience of hiking the trail because, yet again in this park, I was totally unimpressed by the vista.  One would need to be a very very tall person to be able see much of the valley over the tree tops.  The biggest rub was when I turned around at the top to find the continuation of the trail, there was a large grassy field and on the opposite side was the parking lot where I left Lady Spitfire. I definitely did not have to work so hard for  this very mediocre view but I can take pride in accomplishing a challenging hike and experiencing the geological formations of this area. 

By now it was well into the dinner hour so it was back to Valley Overlook (which doesn’t really overlook the valley) for the evening repast and a glamperous night. 

August 15th was a travel day, heading to Indiana Dunes National Park. I dreaded getting back on the Ohio Turnpike and its overabundance of big rigs or eighteen wheelers tearing west (or east): flatbeds, tankers, heavy equipment trailers, trailers with removable sides and tarp covers… the list goes on. This is the first trip I have encountered triple trailers as well of course many double trailers. When not long on the road, I got an alert on my phone that due to accidents it was advisable to seek an alternate route rather than the Ohio Turnpike. I had not a clue what that route would be nor had Siri advised me to go a different route so I decided I would just sit in a back-up if that be the case. Fortunately westbound lanes had been mostly cleared and I could proceed on through. However, it was totally gruesome to see the aftermath of three separate deadly crashes leaving four people dead, all involving at least one tractor trailer, a spill of sulphuric acid, and many mangled vehicles. I remained quite anxious and on high alert for the rest of the day. The only upside was that much of the traffic heading west had exited the turnpike so it was mostly truck and traffic free until a couple exits past the exit advisory zone. Prior to today I had been quite grateful that I had encountered only one minor accident in the almost 7000 miles I had traveled. Gradually the traffic built up again to a “frenzy” and it began to rain. I arrived mid-afternoon at the Indiana Dunes Visitors Center, got myself oriented, talked to a ranger about hikes, got my stamp and headed out to Dunescape Campground

What a horrible night. Camping in areas that are scrunched between cities is less than ideal. The South Shore Line, the train that runs from South Bend to Millennium Stadium in Chicago, is but a couple blocks from the campground and quite impolitely announces its arrival at the Beverly Shores Station numerous times a day (about every 20-30 minutes) almost around the clock. It was not music to my ears as I was trying to fall asleep. But that was finally accomplished only to be awakened in the middle of the night by the flashes of lightening and its notorious  companion thunder! I thought I might have repaired my tent leaks with seam sealer but guess either I did a terrible job or the leak is actually not in the seams.  But at least the drip drip was more of a light spatter instead of a ping! So after the ugly drive and the ugly night I was feeling pretty ugly. 

At least the coffee smoothed over some of the rough edges and I decide to get on the road and explore the park. This campground is at the northern end of the park so I settled on a visit to Lake View Beach.  It was still early in the day so there actually were available parking spaces and proximate to the historic homes from the Chicago World Fair.  With relatively few people on the beach it seemed like the perfect time to view the Century of Progress Homes constructed for the 1933 Chicago World’s Fair to show the future of housing and then brought to the Indiana shoreline afterwards. Were these models an accurate depiction of what housing looked like in the future? An aside. They featured the new amenities of garage door openers and dishwasher. When I think about it a whole lot of homes to this day don’t have those.

With temperatures already in the 70’s, sunny skies, and calm waters, I braced my self for very chilly temps of Lake Michigan but the water was actually quite refreshing and not chilling. I decided on a short walk and it definitely seemed a bit incongruous to be in a National Park and see industrial complexes in both directions with Gary Indiana to the west and power plant in Michigan City to the east..For many years I had a preconceived notion that all National Parks were basically in the hinterlands and not easily accessible to city dwellers. Though most are, there are now a cadre of parks that are much more citified (i.e. Cuyahoga, Gateway Arch, Hot Springs) .

The one hike I wanted to do was the Mount Baldy Dune Trail which was the northern most and tallest dune in the park. So I was determined to test it out. I was a bit tenuous as there were cautions all around about the ease of going down the dune but be aware that the hike back up would be a lung buster on the shifting sands. It was a half mile path to the dune apex and when cresting it, the vista was gorgeous and I naturally made my way down the dune face to the waters edge. A short walk east gave a much closer view of the Michigan City Power Generating Station which many mistake for a nuclear power plant instead of a hyperboloid cooling tower. I looked this up min case you thought I was an expert on electrical towers.) Since I am older and wiser than when my youthful endeavors at climbing dunes and mountains were a “timed event, ” I know I do not have to prove anything to anybody anymore so I inched my way a small step at a time and did not have to pant and gasp for air.

Never satisfied until I am bone weary, next up was The Great Marsh Trail. Seems marsh trails have become a theme of my adventures and this one was a sweaty, bug swatting lovely adventure. This was much more proximate to the marsh water as it was basically a built up dirt path through the wetland area often with marsh water on both sides.

The wildflowers were an absolute delight and it showed yet another facet of marsh vegetation.


After dinner at the campsite, it was a relaxing evening and I settled in bed read. But before too long I could hear a rumbling in the distance and what I had not foreseen was yet another thunderstorm heading over to pound my rainfly with a drenching rain and prove once again my rainfly was incapable of doing the job it was designed to do. . Water was pouring down into the tent from numerous spots – which is only possible because the whole upper portions of the tent is net – the better to stargaze through while cozy in one’s sleeping bag. I had never intended to stargaze and had not given the design much thought I will never again get a tent with a net/mesh top.

August 17th  was a driving day…. and once past Chicago, traffic eased up. I   was heading to Carlisle Lake Recreation Area. Thankfully driving wasn’t absolute chaos with fewer truckers, weavers, speeders, pokers,  and tailgaters. I was not in a particularly positive mood after the thunderstorms and the resultant tent debacle of the previous nights. I had already researched motels near that area anticipating another dismal experience because of all my wet and dirt caked gear. But the weather outlook was good and the site I had selected was an A+ selection and just about perfect (except for the barking dog across the way).   It was a large grassy shaded site right on the lake. I spread everything out  and it all dried quite readily and before long I had a camp set up on  this lovely  lakefront spot.

This evening at Carlisle Lake was filled with a  light cooling breeze, the gentle lapping of the waves on the rocky shore, fireflies twinkling about, a  pastel sunset and the moon waxing gibbous and about 98%full and brilliant. It reminded me of my summers as a child at our lakefront home where lakeside evenings were always magical. The only thing missing here was the whistle of a train across the lake. in Topinabee.   But since I had on over-abundance of those train whistle at the dunes, the paucity was a blessing. Now that I am veering farther south, the evenings are not cooling off as much as they had been the rest of this trip so it was time to haul out lighter weight sleepwear and not sliding  down into the depths of my sleeping bag. 

On August 18th I awoke to the shrill barks of the dog across the way – who after putting out the rallying cry, was responded to by several of the fellow canines in the area. I think everyone camping here has a dog as evidence by the chorus of not so sonorous barks. Though wanting to be annoyed, it wasn’t worth the effort and I wanted to be packed up and on the roas by 9:30am( which I accomplished.) I was heading into The Gateway Arch National Park in St. Louis. I discovered that night that the St. Louis Cardinals had an afternoon home game and I was headed to the Gateway Arch which is a very very close neighbor to Busch Stadium. I wanted to get into the city before it got crazy with fans all arriving for the ballgame. I was so grateful I pre-paid for Arch parking the evening before. It was $10:00 . When I got to garage the parking fee was $40.00 for the game.

The Arch is quite an impressive architectural structure. The complex is quite extensive and though I had not intended to take the tram up into the arch, I would not have been able to as it was sold out. I had done the tram many years ago and I disliked it tremendously because of both the claustrophobic cars and the very noticeable sway of the arch I felt at the top.

It was a lovely day and being that this park is right along the river it was quite the enjoyable time meandering along it and taking a gazillion photos of the arch from every angle. My goal was to get on the road and head west once the traffic heading into the area for the Cardinals game cleared. Since the parking garage was right next to the stadium it was kind of fun milling about that area amidst the fans.

When I surmised the worst of the traffic mess was over, I headed out of the garage (which was no easy feat since most exits were blocked off. After taking out a couple of trafic cones trying to wind my way out, I finally came upon the one place one could exit and get on a road out of town. The end point was Columbia MO and since I always feel frazzled by the challenge of executing the complexity of city expressways, I was happy that I had pre-planned a night at a hotel in Columbia MO. Since I had been dining on camp rations, I saw a T. G. Friday’s right next door and though I have not eaten at one in a long time (my recollection was of a menu featuring mostly high fat, high cholesterol, breaded, and fried heart attack inducing foods. I did not want to get back in the car again. So Friday’s it was.

For The next couple of days I was headed into the relatively flatland and featureless areas of the mid-west. Western Missouri and Eastern Kansas had a slight bit of definition to them i.e some mildly rolling hills and trees mixed in with the cornfields. Western section of Kansas did not. It was a bit saddening to be traveling through this area which clearly has suffered from drought and observing mile upon mile of corn fields clearly devastated by it. Stalks were all browned and yellowed except for a very few fields which had the capacity to be irrigated. The one highlight of my traverse through Kanas was a stop at Tallgrass Prairie National Preserve.

Tallgrass Prairie is one of the very few areas that remains today ( less than 4% of the 70 millions of acres) remains intact, mostly in this area, the Kansas Flint Hills. According to the NP brochure “ the preserve protects a nationally significant remnant of the once vast tallgrass prairie ecosystem. Here the tallgrass makes its last stand.” But most noteworthy and exciting for me was to discover there is a resident bison herd and I was again fortunate to be able to observe it off in a distant field. Now these enormously large bovines with their unpredictable temperament were proximate to an identified hiking trail in the preserve and I discovered I could access that trail via an unlocked gate. I wandered in a short distance and I was quite tempted to get a bit closer to these massive elegant beasts but the rational side of my brain won out and I settled on a few snapshots and was on my way.

I had been planning to camp in Marion KS west of the Topeka Kansas area but was not one iota motivated to roughing it. Instead of the campground, I just continued heading westerly and stayed at Comfort Suites in Salina KS. The next night I had a motel reservation in western Kansas but decided to push farther west with the goal being Colorado Springs on August 20th.   In trying to think about what might have been remarkable about today’s drive, terrain wise it was mostly flat until just sort of Colorado Springs.  Lots of dead corn, lots of silos, and lots of windmills.  I know there is a lot of controversy around windmills dotting the landsscape, but there is something I find calming and peaceful about watching them, the blades slowly turning agaist the backdrop of a vast sky. The time sped on along with my car speeding on and soon I was in the eastern part of Colorado Springs negotiating rush hour traffic getting lost, never being in the correct lane, getting  thoroughly turned around, missing exits, and spending about one-half-hour + finding my motel which was originally less than 1 mile away.  Once there and checked in was not going anywhere. 

Voyagers Voyageur, Lighthouse Graffiti, Selfies, and Statues Obscura

uniquelytheo1 Comment

There was no dawdling after our Isle Royale Seaplane landed as we had over a 400 mile drive to reach Ranier MN for our Voyagers National Park visit. This would be the 56th park I have visited. After working our way through the expressway construction in Duluth, the drive was mostly easy and uneventful with Jamie and I sharing the driving.   To relieve the feeling of road weariness setting in, we stopped for lunch at  Culver’s (BUT skipped the ice cream) and arrived in Ranier MN , our destination by late afternoon. We were staying at the Cantilever Hotel and Distillery off Rainy Lake and close to the gateway of Voyageurs National Park. This boutique hotel to me was quite an anomaly in this town with a population of 569, with it being quite cosmopolitan in a town with an historically gnarly reputation and basically a spot to watch the trains cross the international border on the Ranier Lift Bridge. It was proximate to Rainy Lake and right next to a very very very busy train track which had a cantilever bridge, the oldest cantilevered bridge in North America. I rarely remark on hotel rooms but its hotel rooms are supposed to bring back an experience of this bygone era with tall ceilings, industrial elements, bathrooms with claw foot tubs. I found it quite an inviting experience but clearly it is new “old” not old “new”. No ancient rust stains in the claw foot tubs. The fun part of this room was to watch the high volume of train rumbling past the hotel —- they even provide ear plugs for patrons. For sleeping purposes, I found them easy to ignore and not nearly as plentiful during the night. There would have been a day when it would have been “the cat’s meow” to have a distillery out my hotel room door.

Bridges are becoming the obsession since encountering the two vertical lift bridges in Duluth MN and Hancock MI.  Bear with this obsession if you will. The Ranier Lift Bridge is a Rolling Lift Bridge, and was the epicenter for importing contraband liquid libations during the Prohibition (hence the gnarly reputation) . The single-track lift bridge crosses Rainy River between Ranier, Minnesota, and Fort Frances, Ontario, and is one of the busiest ports of entry for international rail freight in the United States. This very small town is very very busy train wise! . Traffic over the Ranier Bridge is more than twenty trains a day with most pulling between 100 and 200 cars. Theycan be 1.5 miles long and a very long wait (20 + minutes) at many intersection you might want to cross. Hopefully residents have a schedule of trains so as not to be 20 minutes late for work. Our post “sitting in the car all day hike” was an attempt to get a good vantage point to see this bridge.  The one access would be up a prohibited road and we definitely did not want an already ticked off station master who was already hollering at a cyclist chasing us down.

So we gave up the search and decided to have dinner at the hotel restaurant. It was a nice 70 degree evening and that demanded sitting at a table outside.  It definitely was not a “come back another time experience “.  The waitress was quite surly and totally inefficient and inattentive. It took forever to get our drinks and getting our meals took even longer than forever so not the most generous of tips was given. The best part of the dinner was watching this big orange tabby cat trying to sneak into the bar and a neighborhood dog cruising the tables looking for handouts ( evidenced by his girth he appears to have received quite a number of handouts) . Ranier is a dog friendly city and allows its resident dog owners the privilege of letting their dogs roam unleashed.

We awoke on July 18th early enough to get on the road to the Ash River Visitors Center in Voyageurs National Park for a scheduled boat excursion to Kettle Falls at 10:00 am. Voyageurs is a water-based park with no drive-to sites in the park. Campsites and house-boat sites are all boat-in, hence one of the reasons we did not stay in the park. I did not haul my boat across country. Actually I would have had to buy a boat to haul it cross-country.

Thus, the natural choice was to book a water-based event and travel a water-based highway to experience the water based park. But before we departed , we filled the hotel traveler cups with a truly awful brown water which they served up as coffee and charged as much as a fancy late’ at Starbuck’s. This has been quite an issue of late as it seems every time we ordered coffee in Michigan and Minnesota it is truly tasteless and this is probably the first time ever that I can recall never being able to finish my first cup of coffee. I guess not many people around here favor robust dark roasted beans and the nice rich strong taste of coffee they produce. My comments are not meant to offend those who enjoy brown water! But we all managed to be awake enough to get to the Ash River Center.

The Ne-zho-dain tour boat a 42-foot-long Catamaran style flat bottom “chug along ” had about 30 people and as per usual 26 were there and ready to board and of course 4 showed up about 1 minute past the appointed hour to leave. We were actually told to report at 9:30, a half hour ahead of time. Then of course we had to wait for their bathroom excursion (no potty on board) and once aboard for the woman, who thought she left her phone in the aromatic pit toilet building, to retrieve it where, all the while , it was in her husbands pocket who was on board! The voyage to the historic Kettle Falls Hotel took about two hours aboard the Ne-zho-dain tour boat and what a great feeling of immersion into this pristine area of shimmering waters, forested islands, and towering pines – several of which were home to massive bald eagles nests.

Bald eagles build massive nests and they are usually built high in trees.  On this day, the eagles who owned these nest were out and about and preferring not stay home for our arrival. However we were able to spy on at least four inhabitants of this wilderness area when they weren’t aware of our need to capture their image . o these photos are not posed.

As we cruised the interconnected water ways, I mused about kayaking to one of the campsites and pitching my tent for a few days but would definitely want a site that is not on one of the main watery highways with the many boats zipping and roaring about. I mused again about how it’s not exactly true wilderness when humans can get about an area with scads of motorized vehicles rather than being confined to using two feet to walk or two arms to paddle. Eye-strain as we might, we could not sight any wolves or moose on shore and had to be content with eyeing the loons and eagles.

Upon arriving at the Kettle Falls Hotel, opened in 1913 , we were allowed two hours to spend on land for dining hiking, and touring the hotel and nearby dam. First we picked up the overpriced box lunch we order before departing. The upside was it was ready when we arrived but the downside was that it consisted of bread with the texture and shape of Wonder Bread (though I ordered it in brown ) and one slice of meat, and one slice of cheese (Tasia got two slices of cheese for the vegetarian option) and a small bag of chips, all for the whopping price of $17.25. Drinks extra. Glad we hadn’t expected fine dining or gourmet vittles. The hotel maintains much of its old time character with the best part being eating Wonder Bread in the Lumberjack Saloon (aka Tiltin’ Hilton) with its sloping floor (to the extreme). The floor was preserved when a renovation fixed the clay foundation (which became mushy over time and the whole bottom level sported sloping floors) .

It was time to explore the surrounds and we set out to hike the area around the hotel and view the dam. Kettle Falls is a result of water from Namakan Lake descending into Rainy Lake. We can no longer view the original falls as today a large dam is in its place. But the roiling water rushing down the sluice ways was a visual treat and not to be missed once there.

The return trip through this maze of interconnected waterways and islands was an equally pleasing scenic excursion. I was curious about navigating the area as the waterway we voyaged was proximate to the international boundary between the US and Canada. Seems the boundary was established by the customary water channel used by the American fur traders. Would that such international boundaries be so readily established today. My issue with international boundaries concerns how this invisible boundary line will be enough to stop AT&T from charging me $12.00 for a International Day Pass should the Captain creep over the dotted line we see on the map. When I was in Port Angeles Washington, proximate to the Canadian Border’s invisible very watery boundary line, I got dinged even though I never left the States.

After disembarking, a brief hike on the Beaver Pond Overlook Trail was in order but nary a beaver or beaver’s lodge to behold. Then a trip to International Falls Minnesota was the consensus destination. This is another destination I had pictured as a somewhat cosmopolitan tourist enclave. NOT.

First there was no falls. Next, a giant Smokey Bear Statue stood quite tall (26′ only to be beat out by a 30′ Smokey in South Dakota) in the middle of a downtown city park. Not very cultivated but definitely relating to the logging industry. The piles of sawdust and paper mills there give the air a heavy smell of rotting wood. Thirdly, other than its claim to fame as the “Icebox of the Nation” being one of the coldest places in the lower 48, it seems that you can find here such things as the “famous” last port-a potty before Canada, the last flock of geese before crossing over, the last paper mill on this side of the border before getting to Canada (whose factories along the Rainy River here spew nonstop bad odors as well), and concluding from our search for a place to eat dinner, the last not-so-good-place-to-eat before Canada.

Heading back to Ranier, with our new found passion for BIG statues, we stopped to investigate “Vic”, a 25-foot-tall statue of a voyageur that was built as a protest (by Vic Davis) to a property dispute against the U.S. government using eminent domain to seize private land for the creation of Voyageurs National Park . Now towards days end , we opted out of what we deemed as somewhat dodgy restaurant in Ranier , Louie’s, and ate yet again at the hotel distillery restaurant which we swore we would never again patronize. .What a difference a day makes. Good food, decent service, good waitress followed by a good night.

Before getting on the road to Duluth we headed over to the Rainy Lake visitors center to spend money on NPS “stuff and such!” and have a close encounter with some no so alive wildlife. Since the mileage to Duluth was not crazy long, a hike before a long sit in the car was in order. The Oberholtzer Trail proximate to the visitors center, two mile relatively easy hike was the logical choice . We wandered through deciduous and conifer forest as the trail twisted around the edge of a cattail filled wetland and enjoyed two different overlooks with marsh and lake views. Have you ever gotten so used to taking selfies that you might totally “just do it” even when there are others right there with you to snap that handsomely beautiful face in that handsomely beautiful spot (which more often than not is obscured by your handsomely beautiful prominent face blocking almost everything out. Note: above photo was not posed. But first a stop in Kabetogama for gas and a bit of Walleye fishing.

This was the last evening we would be together, so the dinner restaurant choice for our “farewell” was in Downtown Duluth at the Zeitgeist Restaurant, part of a nonprofit theatre arts complex. Other than major parking issues (as with just about every downtown) it was a great choice.

July 20th was a travel day but not the leasts bit boring . Since Tasia and Jamies departure time was not until mid-afternoon, a morning down at Canal Park was in order after an exploration of the neighborhood where my father’s family lived in the early 1900’s. Feeding our keen fascination with bridge structure (here I go again) and definitely wanting Jamie to experience the Aerial Lift Bridge in Duluth, we headed to Canal Park. Our hope was that there would also be a cargo ship coming into port. We were to be in luck. After exploring the US Army Core of Engineers Maritime Museum, we decided to walk across the Aerial Lift Bridge. Once on the other side we could access the lighthouse on the southern breakwater pier and get an up close read of the graffiti. Few surfaces are safe from graffiti artists. We decided they must paint over it every couple of years since some of the art was dated and the oldest date was only a couple years past. The Duluth Harbor North Pier Lighthouse located on north breakwater appeared less available to the artists and thus not bedecked (or painted more often).

It was fascinating and remarkable experience traversing the bridge and there was plenty of time to welcome the Paul R. Tregurth, “Queen of the Lakes, ” a 1003 ft long x 150 wide cargo ship and the longest vessel on the Great Lakes come into port and of course the Aerial Lift Bridge put on its show, The size is so massive that it makes what happened to the Frances Scott Key Bridge even more imaginable.

Subsequently, I dropped Tasia and Jamie around 1:30 PM and after doing a very minor re-organization of the car to find the things I needed to get to my first campsite of phase three of this trip, I was on the road headed to Munising, Michigan and a forest service campground in the Hiawatha National Forest. Having started out late and need to take several “stretch the legs and bathroom” stops, I was pushing it to reach my destination to arrive with adequate light top set up my tent etc. The “highlight” of the trip was the text chain that began when Tasia noted that her flight had been delayed… and Jamie’s as well since they were on the same flight. They would miss their connections in Minneapolis. The real rub was that Tasia had the same occurrence on the way into Duluth and got stuck in Minneapolis . Of course there was nothing I could do and even though they are my kids, they are grown adults who can figure it out themselves. Turns out this was all part of the Delta debacle as a result of the CrowdStrike snafu. They slept one night on the Minneapolis airport floor and two in a hotel before they finally airlifted out on Tuesday. I was headed to Michigan for my own campsite challenge.


A Regal Island, Unforeseen Carnivores, and an Infestation of Bloodsuckers

uniquelytheo2 Comments

The next day was a travel day from Thunder Bay to Duluth MN for the beginning of a highly anticipated week with two of my adult children who were flying into Duluth and the subsequent visit to Isle Royale and Voyageurs National Park with me.  It was a beauteous day with great panoramas of Lake Superior as the road hugged the shoreline. However, as on most two lane roads, the fast surges forward and the great feeling of “alas I am finally making good time”  and then stomping on the  brakes to a slow crawl  in the touristy small town traffic was the pattern.   I am not sure most of the time why I am in a hurry but old habits and cultural norms of living frenetically seem to control my inner driving guide. 

I had been so disappointed when planning this trip that I was unable to get a flight out of Grand Marais to Isle Royale. As I crawled through this very popular destination for tourists, that disappointment dissipated quickly as it was overflowing with tourists looking for their tchotchke with Grand Marais imprinted on whatever or anything else their inner consumer desired at the moment and nary a spot to park. Continuing south I cruised by what was a bizarre looking yard and decided I definitly need to do a U-turn to get a better look and a couple pictures of it. I could not quite decide if this fell into the in the realm of quirky art or collection of pure junk and a poor attempt meant to create art.

Along the way was a beautiful waterfall tumbling into Lake Superior at Cross River. I took a break to experience its beauty and energy. When en route my daughter Tasia, who was meeting me that evening in Duluth, called to say her plane was delayed in Salt Lake City and she would miss the Minneapolis flight. So began the saga of whether she would arrive tonight or tomorrow. I arrived at the Comfort Inn in Duluth negotiating a maze of highway construction, weaving many a loop successfully thanks to Siri. What a stark difference this Comfort Inn was from the one in Thunder Bay, with friendly staff and an elegant feel. I was desperate to do laundry and “twas a good way to pass the time while I waited for updates from Tasia about her arrival. Finally about 1:00 am I went to sleep knowing that she would either get a flight in or I would drive Minneapolis to get her.

I had set my alarm to make sure I was up and had all options open to retrieve Tasia  and learned she would be arriving  in Duluth at around 10:15 (12 hours beyond the original arrival).  So I breakfasted, packed up, and headed to the airport and eagerly heard the story of her  bad travel karma. The choice point for her was sleep in the Minneapolis airport or get a motel room with the airline  voucher.  Had she known where she was going to end up ( a dodgy Super 8 in a smoking room for 4 hours), I think the better choice might have  been to sleep on the airport floor.  With four hours to fill  before retrieving Jamie we headed over to Canal Park, the #1 choice on the  “What to do in Duluth” lists.  It turned out to be a bonanza of a choice.

Duluth has a great Lake Superior Waterfront and since it wasn’t yet too blistering hot we walked the multi-use path along the inland sea to enjoying the breezes off of the lake and discovering some of the industrial history as we observed stacks, the historic Finger’s Brewery Complex, Enger Tower in the distance and the landmark Aerial Lift Bridge. Once back we went to Gramma’s for lunch – the first good meal I had had since leaving home and also to cool down and rehydrated after a hot walk.

Exiting the restaurant near the Canal Business District we observed a significant number of people gathered along the canal … quite puzzling… surmised it was such a pleasant Sunday that folks turned out to enjoy the lake shore. It turns out they were waiting for the Aerial Lift Bridge to slowly ascend, allowing the sailboats and other craft to enter and exit the harbor. But most interesting was the arrival of the ship Burns Harbor, a massive lake freighter carrying coal or iron ore into port. Its sheer length (1000 feet long and 105 feet wide) was astounding to see. A football field is 360 feet. A bit of research showed that it was close to the same length as the Dali (984 feet long and 158 feet wide) , the container ship that took out the Frances Scott Keyes Bridge in Baltimore last year. Determined to become knowledgeable of vertical lift bridges since we found its operation fascinating, I discovered there was one in Portland which I had traversed but not knowing that it was this type

After walking the length of the breakwater/pier it was time pick up Jamie at the Duluth Airports and set out for the 4 hour drive to Houghton /Hancock Michigan for our departure to Isle Royal the following day?

It was a relatively easy drive on two lane roads with low volume traffic. Lots of banter and laughs were so welcome after being by myself traveling for two weeks.

We arrived at the Ramada Inn in Hancock around 7:30ish and were quite astounded to see that right there by the motel was yet another Vertical Lift Bridge. I was pleased with our hotel room overlooking the Keweenaw Waterway, a partly natural, partly artificial waterway connecting at both ends to Lake Superior despite the room being on the second floor with no elevator… not to worry… I had my two “sherpas” with me to haul my stuff. Needing dinner and discovering few restaurants were open past 8:00 on Sunday pm, we selected a pizza restaurant across the Keweenaw River. Since it was only about 1/2 mile away (on the other side of the river), I decided that a walk across the Vertical Lift Bridges was the best mode of transportation. Easier said than done as we had to climb over a highway guardrail, cross highways etc. since the side we planned to travese was blocked off. But I made it over with a bit of help from my longer legged and stronger adult kids. After an excellent meal we headed on back and enjoyed the views of the vertical lift bridge (our new found obsession) lit up.

Our flight the following day was not until 2:00 pm so we opted for a hike to the Hungarian Falls in Hancock MI proximate to the Sea Plane Base.  It was a pleasant hike with some even terrain and other part of the path full of tripping roots and rocks.  It was a lovely way to spend the time with nature but nothing  particularly spectacular about the falls. 

We grabbed some lunch at the Grub Drive Thru and headed over to check in at Isle Royale Sea Planes for our flight.  Checking in was quite painless- as they only weighed our luggage and NOT us as well. On some small plane excursions in Alaska we had to be weighed as well.  The 45 minute flight was quite uneventful and for the most part was over Sea Superior. Superior could technically be considered a sea due to its incredible size and its weather patterns. Like the ocean, the weather on Superior can change quickly. Since it holds such a striking resemblance to the ocean, some believe Superior should be classified as an inland sea. It was a cloudy rainy day over the Isle and it was almost impossible to see where the water ended and the sky began – as completely blended into each other. We glided into Rock Harbor and were shortly about to began the Isle Royale National Park adventure.

This would be the 55th park visited . After checking into our hotel room Tasia and Jamie suggested we take a short hike around the Lodge area.

I should learn not to follow Tasia without a clearer knowledge of what I might be getting into. Her definition of short is not even close to my definition of short. We were on the Stoll Trail towards Scoville Point and opted for a portion of it figure eight configuration . The trail wound back and forth between the forest and the shoreline, with marshland and exposed rocky outcrops on the Rock Harbor side and primarily forest on the Tobin Harbor side. About 2-3 minutes into the hike it began to spatter and then drizzle rain which was definitely a whole lot less annoying than the legion of mosquitos which had been dispersed in thick swarms throughout this boggy area by Beelzebub and who were trying relentlessly to do their life’s work of sucking blood from human hosts. Though I am not too fond of hiking in the rain (though in the last couple of years this seems about the most frequently experienced weather systems I have encountered) nor fond of flailing my arms and hat to avoid being eaten alive, even through the thick fog of Deet generously applied, it was an exhilarating time. There were many stellar views of both the shore of Lake Superior and the Harbor shore and there is something enlivening about putting aside that which is unpleasant and appreciating the flow of the natural word with its beauty and curses. Though the hike felt like a 10K to my legs it was a bit less than three miles and set me up with a good appetite for dinner at the Rock Harbor Lighthouse Restaurant and for the challenge of drying out three sets of very wet clothing.

Tasia spied a fan in the closet area and set everything on hangers in the bath room area with the fan sitting on top of the toilet blowing air – an indoor clothes line in the wind. We headed to dinner and all ordered fish and chips and water! They don’t believe in club soda or sparkilng water here. After unsuccessfully attempting to sign into the wi-fi here to no avail it was back to our lovely lakeside room to enjoy the rest of the evening.

I can’t say that I am addicted to cell phones and the internet but I arrived here assuming there would be no cell or wi-fi. Definitely no cell but the park service had internet available for a few hours a day and the Lodge had it for 12 hours a day for guests. So I thought I could connect to family but internet availability doesn’t necessarily mean it is available. I say this because I was feeling annoyed that they promised me something, raised my expectations, and then reneged. I was totally unable to log in but being okay with that and being annoyed by it can co-exist.

I awoke the next morning to a blue sky and calm seas. It was so peaceful to sip coffee, hearing the lapping of the waves outside our lakefront room. Once the coffee jolted us awake we headed to the grill to get some mighty big breakfast burritos and consumed them lakeside. It looked like a beautiful day for a hike so we suited up (i.e. anointing ourselves with a substantial layer of Deet) and headed out for an out and back hike to Susie’s cave along the Tobin Harbor Trail.

It seemed like almost a miracle had happened overnight and the swarms of mosquitoes had migrated elsewhere. It was pleasantly cool, a shaded and moderately difficult trail, and though not bug free, much more pleasant than the mega-swatting hike yesterday… at least, that is until the mosquitos finally woke up around 11:00 and were ready for their bloody breakfast. But we cruised along thoroughly enjoying the harbor views, the array of wildflowers, the bird song and the occasion wildlife which was primarily red squirrels and a jackrabbit. The moose wanted no part of our visit and the grey wolves clearly visited earlier as evidence by their scat. The hike ended up being 4.75 miles of wilderness connection.

Back at the Lodge area, we grabbed a quick bite to eat and afterwards it was time to spend some money at the park store and secure the park stamp for my NPS Passport book, and rest the legs for an evening hike and sunset boat cruise.

Within 5 minutes of when we sat down, to dinner at an outdoor table harbor-side, it started to sprinkle. My immediate inclination was to stay put but everyone tore into the grill dining area and it was a good thing we followed suit as a heavy drencher followed …which was followed by a burst of sun and then a rainbow. It cleared nicely for our scheduled sunset boat ride to Raspberry Island for a 1 mile hike about the island and then a cruise out to see the sunset over Sea Superior. A one mile hike around Raspberry Island more than met our expectations. We yearned for a bog as we itched for an encounter with the pitcher plant (a carnivorous plant). Luck was on our side. After making our way through the boreal forest, we came upon a bog with paths and planked bridges leading past many of the insect-eating pitcher plants that thrive in this acidic bog environment and supplement the available nutrients and minerals needed with a constituent of insects that have the misfortune of taking a moment to pollinate this vicious flower .

The cirque was actually only .61 miles but upon our return the boat was mostly boarded and we were on our way for a cruise out to the Superior Sea to watch the sunset.

Our travel karma turned positive and we were treated to a magnificent array of golds, pinks, purples, reds, oranges and a slow setting sun at this latitude. We returned to the dock about 10:30 and gazed at the moon with its shaft of light arrayed on the water. Returning to the room it was time to pack up shower and get ready to depart by seaplane at 9:00 am the morrow.

It was up a seven to be set to depart from  Isle Royale by 9:00 am. Bags were to be retrieved at eight so after packing up we headed over to the Greenstone Grill for coffee and a breakfast of yogurt, fruit and granola.  It was time to meander down to the seaplane dock area for the flight back to Hancock.  This overcast day with thunderstorms visible in the distance did not pose any flight delays. Jamie was assigned the copilot seat while   Tasia myself and another young girl were very tightly squeezed into the rear seat .  Even with the impending weather the 45 minute flight was smooth and uneventful. 

Rushing to Find the River, No Thunder in Thunder Bay, and a Lying Giant

uniquelytheoLeave a comment

It was July 9th and I needed to be up and organized and hoped to hit the road by 9:30 as Tuesday was a travel day. The screeching of the crows and/or vultures made sure that I would catapult myself out of the tent by 7:00 am. I have achieved some level of proficiency by laying out all of the things for my oatmeal concoction and coffee in the back of the car (would prefer the picnic table but alas the park rangers are a bit squeamish about attracting bears to one’s tent site.) Once up, all I need to do is heat water! So breaking camp is also getting easier and more organized, assuming I could stay focused while swatting mosquitos all of the time. These are the moments when I begin to understand the preference for an RV’s (and if you invite me on trip in your RV I will not decline!).

Today’s drive would again mostly be through the flatland of southern Manatoba. I had a few “hitch-hikers” that I had to deal with along the road— 3 massive bees and several mosquitos signed on to travel to Ontario with me. The challenge is how to pass the time while appreciating the surrounds but not finding much differentiation mile upon mile.  I listen to podcasts but not being of a generation that grew up with earbuds or anything other than AM radio while traveling in the car, I can get very weary of constantly having auditory stimulation. But the miles clicked on by and by 2:45 ish when I stopped to get some gas, about 90 miles from my destination, my car would not start.  Now the screen said my car was running but clearly it was not.  It would shift gears but go nowhere.  The parking brake would not release.  After numerous attempts to get it on the move, I gave up and called AAA. After about 15 minutes on the phone a tow truck was going to pick me up and take me to Kenora Ontario, the town closest to where I was to camp.  I said to the agent “Before we hang up, let me try to start it again.”  Why hadn’t I trusted that “Lady Spitfire” could fix herself.  It started right up so I cancelled the tow but was on edge the rest of the trip and did not turn the car off until I was at my campsite. at Rushing River Provincial Park.

I lucked out again with the campsite. It is a wooded unserviced site in a tent only area with a perfect spot to put my tent on a bluff overlooking Dogtooth Lake. Traveling east has brought warmer temperatures but the- mid 80’s wasn’t bad given my at home Oregon temperatures between 100-111 this past week. Another upside was that there were fewer flying critters to inject their venom. No slapping myself silly tonight. The downside was I discovered that the loo servicing our circle of sites was probably one of the worst I have ever come across in a campground. Of course I needed to befriend my trusty Coleman stove yet again but I was having no inclination whatsoever to prepare anything beyond the basic “just add water” or “dunk in boiling water” food.

I have entered into a new era of my camping rituals or rather non-rituals. I have foregone the “traditional” nightly campfire so far on this trip. One of these nights I will feel motivated but probably not a good plan for me to be chopping the purchased logs into more burnable sizes. Just sitting and immersing myself in the sounds of nature has been quite satisfying. Somewhat related to campfires is a silliness moment when at the last couple of campgrounds I would hear what I thought were people playing paddle ball well into the evening. I finally dawned on me that it was the Paul Bunyans in the camp thwacking at wood for their ritual fire. It was uncanny how it sounded just like the crack of the paddleball. Sitting, gazing at the lake and the sitting sun was enough to slake my thirst for calmness and it colored down nicely to a pleasant 70 degrees for sleeping.

What a delight it was to awaken, unzip the front “window” of my tent and see a shimmering lake.  I  welcomed this day off from driving but decided I needed to go into the closest town, Kenora,  to make some phone calls etc and would thus need better cell service that the almost nothing service here at the camp. But 12 mile is not 300 miles and I was hoping to send some emails as well… eventually I realized I was dawdling away the day in an ordinary anywhere USA or Canada, I headed back as I wanted to do a hike to finally have an up close encounter with the Rushing River. Once back at the Campground, I found the trailhead and started off on this tripping root and muddy path adventure. It had been a while since I had to very cautiously watch every footfall so as not to either slide flat on my derriere in the mud or fall flat on my face with the toe of my shoe attached to a protruding root…all the while flapping my hat around to ward of the mosquitos. Great hike!


I am sure by now some of my readers must wonder about my sanity and have yet to figure out how any of what I describe could be enjoyable or why I would even voluntarily choose to do this. There is something so empowering for me in both the physicality of the endeavor but also being so in touch with the natural world with all its delights and annoyances. It is the real world I thrive in not the virtual world. Since I was very young I loved being physical and for many years I lost that aspect of myself. As a kid I climbed trees and scooped up pollywogs from a pond behind our property. I embraced scouting and earned just about every badge there was that had to do with the outdoors and natural world. I lost my way for many years and I found it again by signing up for a three week Outward Bound. That awakened the long dormant side of myself that craved the outdoors.

So I cautiously stepped over the roots and up the steps and over the boardwalks to see and hear the power of the water that the campground was named for: It indeed was a “rushing river. ” Satisfied I returned to my campsite and embraced the regular routine of cooking, organizing, writing and relaxing lakeside. A perfect end to the day was laying on my cot peering out of the window of my tent drinking in the delicious hues of a lovely sunset.

The following day was a travel day. I really hated leaving this large quiet private lakeside campsite (except for of course the very rank outdoor privies servicing this area but the Sleeping Giant awaited my arrival so I was on my way up through Thunder Bay Ontario to Sleeping Giant Provincial Park and the Marie Louise Lake Campground. Much of the terrain through Ontario appeared to be bog and marshland. The trees reminded me of the stunted evergreens on the Kenai Peninsula in Alaska. I was really looking for to another good camping experience and had reserved another lakeside spot. I somehow had romanticized this park for no logical reason what-so-ever other than the name Thunder Bay intrigued me and I imagined a quaint town up on Lake Superior and the campground would be beautifully forested and … Much to my chagrin, upon arriving at my campsite I was quite dismayed. It was high on a ridge and though “lakeside” it would involve bushwacking down the steep forested hill to get to the lake. The site was narrow (I could hear the whole conversation my neighbors across the road were having in their tent.) and in full sun.

The best part though was that it was beloved by hundreds of tiny black flies (buffalo gnats) which were intent on biting me around my neck and ears and hairline.  With a lot of flicking, slapping, fanning, and swatting I managed to get camp set up though suffering several nasty little bites on my neck and behind my ears.. The only cell service was accessible down by the lake. I decided not to bush-wack down but took the car instead.

I sent a few text and enjoyed the cool breeze and mostly freedom from the vicious insect world up yonder. I made a very impromptu but wise decision to only spend one night in this fly infested space and made a motel reservation in Thunder Bay for the next evening. As soon as it was cool enough I retreated into my tent for the evening feeling a bit despondent and quite itchy. The view was less than stellar. What a difference a day and 300 miles can make.

Since I had the campsite for two nights I did not have to break camp but headed out early for the one hike I wanted to do which was to visit the Sea Lion Trail. It was a 1.5 mile round trip from Kabeyan Trail Parking lot and considered a moderate hike but took me to an overlook of the Sea Lion Arch on Lake Superior. Though the trail was relatively easy, and thus relatively crowded, it still had a couple steeper bits and loose rocks, roots, and bugs! My imagination could not conjure up a sea lion in the rock formation but I was delighted to have made the trek to see this rock layer cake.

Following the loop road and definitely the end of the road for any cars wishing to travel further south, I stopped at Silver Lake at the only store I saw on the whole peninsula. It was named for the extracting of silver from the area in the mid 1800’s. I then headed on back to extricate my belongings from Marie Louise! I would definitely give her a 1 star out of 10 though admittedly I did see some very nice lakeside campsites (but perhaps they also had bug swarms to accompany them).

On the way out I stopped at Marie Louise Lake to get a better picture of the “Sleeping Giant” for whom this park was named. He sleeps on his back with arms folded on his chest. and is a massive formation of mesas and sills.

Then on the way out I spotted a road called Thunder Bay Lookout Road and of course made a sharp left to access it. The sign warned of the very steep hills, its narrowness, and of course bumps and ruts, potholes and washboards and in general serving up any other bone jarring road irregularities. Just my kind of road though I must add that I was glad to have a trail ready four wheel drive vehicle. The Thunder Bay lookout has a platform that juts out over the side of the cliff with an unobstructed view of Thunder Bay and Lake Superior. My legs got quite shaky and wobbly as I walked out onto the platform seeing nothing beneath me though it would probably be a softer landing if it extended out over the water should it give way rather than the jutting rocks below.

It was finally on to Thunder Bay. My primary impression of Thunder Bay, which is a hub of commerce with a deep water port, was that it appeared very utilitarian. It very much reminded me of cities like Anchorage and Fairbanks Alaska with buildings being more functional than architecturally appealing with very many structures looking like warehouses. I am sure some of this relates to the massive amounts of snow these cities get. I did not give it much of a chance because I was happy to go straight to my motel ( with a very surly desk clerk) and then get a bite to eat. I saw a Pizza Hut across the street and thought perhaps I would get something there but their dining room was closed and I did not want carryout. There was nice looking Chinese restaurant next door to that and the parking lot was crowded so I thought it might be a good choice. NOT. It was the worst Chinese food I have ever had. I would not even be able to describe what I was eating in the egg roll and entree. So even though I was quite glad to be out of the swarm of black flies, I wasn’t exactly enlivened by the thunder of Thunder Bay .

The next morning my major task was to get an oil change for my car and have it checked out after the incident a few days ago. The good news was that everything looked fine but the lube man kept upselling me on all different services I might want. So to be on the safe side I did have a few things done and was then on my merry way, heading south to the USA and Duluth.