I continued east from Duluth after a great week with two of my offspring rand arrived at my campground, Island Lake in the Hiawatha Forest National around 9:15 which gave me about 45 minutes of light. BUT as I pulled into my campsite there were “squatters” occupying it (as there were no other available sites in the campground). These two young men saw an empty site in the early evening and probably anticipated a “no-show” at this reservation only campsite. They were sitting there by a fire eating their s’mores and I am sure it really sucked that they had to up and leave, take down their tent, pack up there gear and leave their perfect for s’mores campfire. I naturally asked them to leave and fortunately they were decent about it. I for a brief moment felt a tad bad about it. They said there had been no sign marking the site as reserved – a slip up by the forest ranger perhaps – but none-the-less I had paid for the site months ago. So by the time they vacated the campsite it was 9:45 and the sun was setting. I was able to get the basic done (tent / bed) before it was too dark and had a pretty good “flood” flashlight to accomplish the rest. It was not long however before I was in bed.

The following day was a layover day and I wanted to explore the Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore. After a very normal morning camp routine with my biggest challenge being finding my Starbuck’s Via coffee in the chaos of the inside of my car,   I was off – or at least I thought I was off – until I could not figure out the directions to get to the Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore. Perhaps too much like Hansel and Gretel who dropped breadcrumbs to be able to find their way, my breadcrumbs was my iMaps program which led right to the campsite . I did not have to pay any attention to the route road names, identifying features, direction heading etc. and only had to follow that line on the iMap and Siri’s coaching.  Well Siri must have taken the day off and I was without guidance given the lack of a cell tower here in the Hiawatha National Forrest. So I set out  not knowing that I would be setting a personal record of the most U-turns in one day.  I was not in danger of being eaten by a wolf thank goodness. I still have no idea of how I found my way but I finally did arrive at the Munising Falls Visitors center, picked up the NP map, got the park stamp,  and decided to take the hike up to the top of the falls via a trail up the cool, shaded sandstone canyon along Munising Creek to view the 50-foot waterfall. I not sure if I have ever visited it before (I’m a Michigan native and spent many summers in the northern Lower and Upper Peninsulas) but though it was lovely I was tad underwhelmed by it. 

Now had I seen it was a kid on one of our trips to the upper peninsula it might have been a bit more impressive. But perhaps my judgement is warped by our fast paced culture that believes bigger is better , and louder is the best. None-the-less it was a nice little hike and a good beginning of a day of a lot more driving than I anticipated (150 MILES round trip including u-turns.) My plan was to drive the distance of lakeshore and travel most side roads to identified points of interest.  The Pictured Rocks stretches 48 miles along Lake Superior and was the first National Lakeshore. To really appreciate the lake vistas, rock formations, sand dunes, and beaches I would need to take a kayak or boat tour. Since I did not bring my kayak (I sold it 6 years ago because I could no longer heave-ho on top of my car ) and did not have the foresight to arrange a boat tour (I will blame this on no wi-fi or cell service this am and not my lack of planning). I had to be content with a drive-along the main artery (not even close to the lakeshore) and then drive in and back out again on the “local” the access roads …. a not very environmentally friendly method. But I guess it would be less environmentally friendly to engineer a road right along the lakeshore and thus increase the volume, noise and auto pollutants and mix them into the forests and lakes of this mostly unspoiled wilderness and replicate the contaminated environment in a city .

If I had been of a mind to swim I would have chosen Sand Beach, a white sand beach with clear waters on Lake Superior. It was my first stop. According to NPS its clear shallow water has less waves and usually slightly warmer water than other NP park beaches (the average surface water temperature of Lake Superior in July ranges from 55°F to 65°F – what I would consider wet suit necessary and its was not on my list of packables for this trip (aside for the fact I don’t own one anymore. )

I was quite disappointed that very little of the Pictured Rocks part of the coastline was not accessible for the motorist. The Miners Castle, one of the most famous landmarks along the Pictured Rocks shoreline, was the only cliff area in the park reachable from the park road. I traversed both the upper overlook of Lake Superior and Grand Island and took a steeper trail leading to the lower overlook adjacent to Miners Castle. I recollect doing a kayak voyage of the coastline several years ago and the recall being quite taken with the beauty of the rocky multi colored sandstone cliffs. Not much of the vibrant hues of red, orange, yellow and green and the arches and caves were in evidence from this overlook.

So I motored on to check out the 12-mile beach, and nary a mile of it did I trek (nor did I descend the long flight of stairs down from the bluff). Pretty to look at but not for me today to sink my toes into the soft white sand and huff and puff along. The “log slide” area was intriguing. The site was used by lumberjacks in days gone by to propel logs down to the waters edge. I saw many a tourist slipping and sliding down this steep dune (500 feet) in a few minutes only to be faced with the daunting challenge of ascending the slippery sand with each step the sand giving way and a sliding back with each step. Caution! Caution! Caution! says the sign at the top. For a change I paid attention and that meant staying up top and not pretending I was a log heading down a chute . But most appreciated was the expansive view of the Grand Sable Banks and Dunes to the east.. The dunes themselves are just the top layer of a large pile of rock rubble and debris left by ancient glaciers.

Sated with nature’s beauty, I needed to stop in Munising to pick up a few grocery items but I could not find a store. I picked up some things at the pricey Quickmart and naturally on spur road out to highway, I went past a big grocery store. I kind of rattled around the campsite unfocused but finely manage to build a campfire. This was the first – though I’m not too keen on all that work to not have the ingredients to roast marshmallows and make the old Girl Scout Camp favorite of s’mores.

Awakening to the cawing crows, and after the usual camp oatmeal concoction and coffee, it was time to break camp and head east. Normally I am not totally directionally challenged but some how either I have aged out of that skill set or my cars U-Connect Navigation Guidance system software was impacted by the Crowdstrike security update meltdown. This was definitely not the time to rely on anything other than one’s own brain and intuition as foggy as it might be. I knew I need to basically head north. The throaty female directional guide on U-Connect (since no cell service) had me going the wrong way for starters and, after actually only two u-turns, I was basically headed out of the Hiawatha National Forest. I left Throaty’s guidance on just to see if she had any brains at all and sadly this was not the case. Whenever there was a “road” (term used loosely as she considered ever forest service gravel road, every single sandy lane with a grass centerpiece, and even some that appeared to be no wider than a hiking trails roads) I was told to turn right. I think she was stuck in auto replay mode . But I ended up on M28 by my own shot in the dark guidance and found the grocery store in Munising.

After stocking up on some healthy food such as vegetables and fruit and chicken, I headed across the Michigan Upper Peninsula toward my nights lodging at Lac Fairbank (I like the sound of the French name vs Lake Fairbanks). The names of the parks in Ottawa are boring compared to those in Western Canada (such as Buffalo Pound and Sleeping Giant). There wasn’t much remarkable about this journey though there was a lot of commercial traffic (evidence by the large number of trucks), and tourist traffic ( evidence by the volume of RV’s, campers, pickup trucks loaded down with bikes and kayaks etc). Construction stops were several but not of significant duration. All of the roads were two lane though fortunately there appeared to be passing lanes often enough so I did not have to take too many chances swinging out into the opposite lane, drive 90 miles an hour to get past a slow moving vehicle that always seems to speed up when tryin to pass it, and then scare the bejesus out of the oncoming car as I swing back in. I think these drivers are in a fog and all of a sudden have an awareness of the fact that they are crawling down the road and thus frustrating the 20 cars behind, and voila they are off to get up to speed while you try to pass. Or they are just mean spirited.

The most interesting point on this trip was crossing the international bridge to Canada. I gazed to my left at the first span and I saw rusted steel vertical lift railroad bridge. Since this type of bridge had entered our awareness with a bang during this trip, I could make it my obsession to visit as many as I could in the USA. NOT going to happen as I am not that obsessed. Due to construction on the bridge there was about a 25 minute back-up to get off and down to the Canadian Border Crossing Point. Because they were releasing a significant number of cars at once there was a wait there as well. I think all border crossing agents are cut from the same mold and one very similar to the interactional style of policeman – very curt and terse with their routine questions that I feel like I’m either doing something wrong or going to do something wrong. When this dude asked if I planned to leave anything in Canada, I so wanted to say “Oh, just some pee and poop!” but thought better of it. But soon I was on my way with still a 200 or so to go and along the way I did find several places to leave my pee. After the last 12 miles of dusty, rattly gravel road, I arrived at Fairbanks Provincial Park, and contrary to the last adventure of finding my campsite occupied, mine was just sitting there waiting for me and was one of those winners. It was large site, with a short path down to the fresh water swimmable lake and good vegetation buffers for privacy. Now these vegetation buffers might be good for visual privacy but do very little to soundproof the site from the many gleeful children all around. But it goes with the territory unless I want to exclusively go only to 55 and older park and I don’t plan to find out.

Camp set up is much easier in the light and went smoothly as did cooking a dinner and sitting peacefully and enjoying the lake view (narrow as it was). Since this is a minimal, if any, cell service area I am totally clueless about world events for a couple days and right now that is just fine with me. I can sometimes squeak out a plain text. After a few texts back and forth with my offspring, fellow travelers for last week’s adventure, and catching up on their saga of plane cancellations and delays, it was tent time.

Today’s awakening was to the shrill barks of a very yappy dog in the next tent site … clearly somebody’s spoiled “child.” But it was already 7:45 as I sleep sound and cozy in my little tent. So I laid around here for a while pondering the spider crawling on the netting of my tent but when it failed to find any lucrative location for a web traveled on. So I crawled out of the cozy confines of my lodging and coffeed up and chowed oatmeal and then tried to figure the plan for the day off traveling. It was pretty gray out and on the cooler side (lower 50’s) and the sky was hanging onto the possibility of dumping a bit of rain on we tenters. But not having any clue what the forecast is – recall I have been involuntarily unplugged from our information society due to the propensity of parks to not have cell coverage and having wi-fi would be anathema (by the way I heartily agree with this but it doesn’t mean that I am not in withdrawal.)

So I set out to walk the park roads to the one hiking trail in the park, the WA-SHAI-GA-MOG Trail (Ojibway for “clear water” ). Marked as an easy 1//2 K trail, it was none-the-less slightly challenging for one who would prefer not to break any bones by leaping down the bedrock outcrops and sliding on some steeper clay sections (though thankfully not oozingly slick right now .) It did provided views of the gray waters of Fairbank Lake (the brochure says “beautiful blue waters” but that definitely requires sun). An aside: I am not complaining about lack of sun because I have yet to get any measurable rain while I have been camping.

But between the hike and traverse of the park I managed to get 2 miles in and was back in time for lunch. This is not particularly a very large or well funded park (per conversation with a local) , hence minimal infrastructure — and thus I am saddled with using a stinky loo (though not as bad as the worst of the worst at our campsite loop at Rushing River.) I am wondering if I should start a website rating Canadian and US National and Provincial Parks for their toilet facilities. I don’t see that on trip advisor. I had planned on swimming in this clear lake with a sandy bottom at my campsite entrance but the gray, cool, mildly windy conditions and my rational brain convinced me that if I went in I would be picking leaches of my body and my teeth would be chattering all afternoon. I preferred not to waste my salt nor sit in my car for the afternoon with the heater blasting.

So, I decided I was being a lazy camper and not having the full experience and I really should go buy some wood to build a campfire despite the fact that there would be no s’mores. I could use a bag of ice as well. So I plopped in my car and drove to the office where ice and wood were sold. I got a small ice and one bag of wood. I was expecting ice cubes but ended up with an unbreakable block of ice which took up half the cooler and a very large bag of un-burnable wood (which of course I would not realize until later.) I didn’t inquire if they had a “return policy” but a big bag of wet wood and a big block of wet ice was not what I thought I was purchasing. I totally understand now that the wood has char marks on it from my fire starters that they might consider it having been used and hence no refund. Same as to the melting ice would be considered used. So I prepared my dinner next to some smoldering wood, managed to get all my clothing smelling like smoke, and have not had the benefit of a roaring fire. What if I really was planning on s’mores?

So there I sat post dinner writing away and getting ready to retreat to the warmer confines of my tent with the cacophony of shrill little voices, buzzing mosquitos (though they aren’t actually very bad here), barky dogs, and campfire songs in the background. It’s a sweat life and the moment I would not change a thing (except perhaps dry wood and ice cubes).

Well I wrote last night I would not change a thing. I am now of the mindset that there is one major thing I would change about this area as well as camping in general. Please hold off the rain. Just as I was beginning to drift off to sleep I began to hear the ping of rain on my tent rain fly which is supposed to protect me from getting wet in the event of a rain occurrence. However despite the ding-ping-ring-sing-ting and zing of the rain I drifted off to sleep only to be awaked a couple hours late by a drip-drip-dripping of rain onto my shoulders and face. I did not quite have my whits about me in my semi -coma of sleep so just pulled a blanket up higher and drifted back into slumber land. When I awakened again to the dribble and drop of the wet stuff, I could not think clearly enough to move my cot over but just slid deeper in to my sleeping bag and hoped it would not soak through. My tent is brand new so I certainly could not have forecast a leaking rain fly (the tent itself is mostly netting so one can enjoy the cool breezes and feel of sleeping under the stars.) I awoke around 7:00 to the rattle or rain and began obsessing about how I would make breakfast and pack up my gear without getting bone chilling cold. Then it suddenly STOPPED. So I went about trying to get coffee and breakfast and break camp as quickly as possible while also trying to minimize the amount of sand, gravel, dirt and rain I would deposit in my car. I wasn’t particularly successful but did manage to lay out my sodden blanket and sleeping bag on top of all the other equipment to hopefully dry out. I managed to be on the road without any more rain episodes and was heading toward Fitzroy Provincial Park all the while brooding about what to do about my leaking tent as I traversed the country-side all the way to Fitzroy Provincial Park in drenching rain and amidst thunder storms.

Upon arriving at the provincial park I had already made a decision that I would go into Ottawa and get a motel. But first I wanted to check out the campsite in case I wanted to return the following day for my other reserved night. The site was totally remarkable in that it was very wet, mosquito infested and there was nothing appealing about it. I would not return on the morrow. I chose not to be a slave to my original plan and headed to the Comfort Inn in Suburban Ottawa. I thoroughly congratualted myself on a good decision. Since it did not appear that there was any imminent rain and this motel was old style with an exit sliding glass door to the parked car, I laid out a few thing to rain dry enough so I could shake the gravel, sand and clumps of mud off. I had some leftover food from the previous nights dinner in my cooler and thus had a microwaved meal, prefering not to have to get back into the car to go out to a restaurant as there was nothing within walking distance. So after reorganizing the drier equipment and the rest of the paraphernalia I thoroughly enjoyed a comfy rainproof structure, a motel room, for the night.