This post concludes my 4-part series recapping my trip to Isle Royale National Park in September 2023.
9/8, 2:30 p.m., a picnic table at Rock Harbor.
We’re 1 ½ beers into our day. We ate lunch at the Greenstone Grill, rather than snack on what little nibbles we’ve got left. We are now well stocked on candy and books and a sixer of Keweenaw beer.
We got up this morning and skipped coffee. We got on the trail around 8:30 and were in Rock Harbor by noon. We are at Site 17, and it’s been a few hours so I do not know if we have neighbors in our campsite. Hopefully not, but I won’t be surprised if we do. Today the skies are sunny and bright. There are just a few clouds in the sky. The temperature is cool, but sunny spots make it all feel different. It feels very good to wash my hands. I mailed off postcards. The original four that I picked up in Houghton, and four more. To Aubs, Joe & Randi, Michael, Ryan and Dave’s parents. We have mashed potato dinner plans, and now all the candy you could want.
4:30 p.m. Site 17
The Ranger is here, but the hikers haven’t decamped yet. We’re expecting a melee when they do. Site 17 appears to be too small to share, so here’s hoping for our seclusion.
I hate to leave the island but I know that this is not a place that needs me even if I need it. We’ll be back, always.
5 p.m. Site 17, Rock Harbor
Candy, chips, and mashed potatoes for dinner. Also beer. The finest. I have started reading a new book from the shop. “National Parks and the Woman’s Voice: A History” by Polly Welts Kaufman. It’s the kind of book I like, with lots of citations and tiny print.
6:15 p.m. Camp
I suspect we may have a site all to ourselves tonight. Lucky us. The folks in the overflow site look cramped. We are well-provisioned with candy and chips. Mashed potato and chicken dinner tonight. The veg are gone. We put the last of the cheese in dinner.
Hike report: Real miles 21, mental miles, 23
9/9 9 a.m. Ranger III Passenger Lounge
Leaving the island this time is a little like leaving summer camp. Everyone is friendly and chatty and swapping stories. No one really knows anyone’s name and it doesn’t matter at all. I’ll miss the island. I always do. Dave got a breakfast burrito from the grill, but he thinks they forgot the potato and added more egg instead. There has to be 5-6 eggs in there. He’s not upset.
I took two chewable Dramamines so we will find out if it still zonks me out. I hope not because I want to stare at the island for as long as I can.
9:30 a.m. Ranger – Outside, facing the island
I think I have talked to about half the people on this boat in the last week. The Dramamine has not zonked me out yet and I just ate a muffin. I hope it will sit down and stay there. (It did.)
In the shelters – watch your head. Dave’s bonks |||, Lindsay’s ||
On the trail when your body runs out of fuel. Quick sugar.
In the shelter or a tent between two people who like each other very much.
Glad I had that
Packable jacket
Pashmina
Buff
Knitting project
Waterproof boots
Wish I had that
Gloves below 60 degrees F
Knit hat
More coffee, Esbits
More TP and hand sanitizer
Hot bullion drink
Potential next time hikes:
Washington Creek -> Hugginin -> Washington Creek -> N. Lake Desor ->Lil Todd -> Todd Harbor -> (Hatchet Lake? Or) McCargo Cove. If McCargoe, ferry out 36 miles, if Hatchet -> Greenstone to West Chickenbone, continue onto Rock Harbor.
Windigo -> McCargoe -> Ferry
Ferry -> Water Taxi -> Middle of the island -> Start hike
We’re moving on today. It did not rain, and there are no clouds in the sky. We’ve decided to head back to Daisy Farm and make our choices from there – skipping Lake Richie completely. The trail to here and Daisy Farm is all along the side of a rocky ridge, and frankly the idea of hiking those rocks while it’s slick makes me nervous. We may head to Lane Cove after that, or Three Mile so we can access the tourist boat to Edisen Fishery. We found an apple tree at Daisy Farm, which should really class up our dirtbag charcuterie. I saw the sunrise this morning.
12:20 p.m. Shelter 9, Daisy Farm
How did DF -> MB take three hours but MB -> DF only takes two? Isle Royale governs its own time and place.
This site is surrounded by thimbleberries. Some of which are still good to eat. There is an apple tree with tart, little green apples. I ate one sliced right off my knife, which feels correct. Dirtbag charcuterie today: Lemon blackberry Propel, pepper salami, cheddar, green apples and fruit leather.
A lady we met on the trail says the weather now only predicts rain on Wednesday, which if true, puts us in a good spot to ride it out.
Hike update: Real miles, 14. Mental miles, 17. My active outfit is getting dank.
Ovenbirds love Daisy Farm.
2:15 p.m., the beach at Daisy Farm
I have just learned that I have survived a forest fire. I watched a crew dressed in wildfire fighting gear leave in a ranger boat. The word around camp is at about 10 a.m. this morning, someone came to Daisy Farm and told everyone to stay put and off the Greenstone. Then two firefighting crews arrived about half an hour apart, docked, and marched right up. I guess the fire was at the Mt. Ojibway Fire Tower. Another person heard at Rock Harbor around 12:30 p.m. that the fire was already out. There’s still one ranger boat here, so I assume the crew is still cleaning up.
4:50 p.m.
I found a Greenstone! Dave has found several nice agates. This is a good rock-hounding beach.
5:25 p.m.
We are now skilled Greenstone hunters. After the first, we put on our greenstone-hunting eyes and have found 8 so far. Many little cannardlies. (As in you can-ardly see them.) We’ll probably stay here again tomorrow night. We plan to throw them all back one at a time and make wishes.
We’re hearing a loud rumbling coming in from the southeast and the sky is becoming overcast. We can see the cabin for the Wolf and Moose Study from our picnic table.
I can’t believe finding greenstones is so easy and so fun.
6:15 p.m.
A cool wind is blowing in from the south.
Dinner: Garlic mash, chicken, cheese, ghee and vegetables.
7 p.m.
Camp fox came sniffing around our dinner. The clicking of the camera scared him off. A second camp fox that came for dinner does not fear the camera.
8:20 p.m.
It gets darker here earlier than it does at Moskey Basin. No rain yet. I finished my socks on the dock so now I have to read my book. Knitting is handy for when you want to keep your hands busy, but still look at scenery. The thunder has moved west of us.
9/6 Shelter 9, 8:30 a.m.
The rain came in just after dark. A booming and thunderous storm that brought the wind to knock down branches, and lightning to backlight the trees while it did so. The thunder was low, loud and its deep rumbling sounded like it sat on top of us and bounced between the archipelago for hours. From the inside of the shelter, it was pretty romantic.
It rained all night. The morning’s sky is very overcast. I finally broke out my rain jacket for the first time this trip. We’re finally back on track according to our itinerary if we just stay here tonight. But between hunting greenstones, and possibly hiking up to Mt. Ojibway to see the aftermath of the fire, I think that is what we’re inclined to do today. There’s still wind, and the air is cooler. I’m glad we left Moskey yesterday, because I was not keen on hiking those rocks after a rain. If this concern is going to affect my hiking, I should probably get one of those GPS locaters for my person.
Our camp fox joined us for breakfast, one of them anyway. He’s a young guy with skinny little legs. He looks sad and damp. He doesn’t make the faces Dixie makes.
Noonish
We’re up to 19 Greenstones. I’m showing them to everyone. The air is misty today. The wind is high and the lake is turbulent. We’re spending the afternoon reading with our backs resting on the shelter and the wind in my hair.
Loons and songbirds each have a lot to say. Winter wrens, goldfinches, sparrows (very friendly), ovenbirds and orioles. According to the book I’m reading “The Crooked Tree, Indian Legends of Northern Michigan” by John C. Wright, the reason today’s weather changed so drastically is because Nanaboju and his brother are running a footrace nearby.
2:30 p.m.
Lazy day at camp. The weather is cooler, so we’ve budgeted dirtbag charcuterie to include a hot drink. Today was jasmine tea and honey, apples, fruit leather, 3-year Irish cheddar, pepper sausage and jerky. Fucking luxury. Why would you want a Mountain Hardware bag when that’s an option?
One a misty , cool afternoon, with the resonant lake lapping just 150 feet away. Our shelter faces the other side of a large thimbleberry, grass and pine. One skinny old pine cracked in the storm last night, and fell in a way that should not create any work for the park service, so it’s a nice redecorating moment. The lake is a little too turbulent for rock hunting right now.
3 p.m.
A rainy afternoon with just enough wind to make it pleasant. Today the sky is a flat grey, the trees on the islands in the water are misty, dark silhouettes. The lake is an uninviting blue grey. Today it is fall on Isle Royale.
Meals left:
3 dinner
2 lunch
2 snack
3 breakfasts
What we’re rationing:
3 chicken portions
1 fried Rice-a-Roni
1 baby red mash
1 chili seasoning packet
1 mac and cheese meal
1 bag of shells, just shells (noodles)
Meager amount of veg mix
1 meal of tomato sauce
7 granola bars
0 wine
½ sausage
2 slabs of fruit leather
8 pieces of jerky
½ brick of cheddar (3-4 oz)
4-6 oz of ghee
Electrolyte tabs: 24 regular, 15 caffeine
1 green tea
1 spice tea
2 cocoa packets
2 honey
4 starbursts
11 Esbit tabs
The rain drove us inside around 4:15 so we took stock of our supplies. We won’t starve before Rock Harbor but we are dangerously low on candy. The Sweet Tart Ropes are long gone. At 7 p.m. we’re going to hear the Wolf and Moose presentation. I’ll be a fangirl if Carolyn Peterson shows up.
While I have always preferred trail runners, I like boots for both grippiness and waterproofing. My feet haven’t been damp at all except when I wanted it.* The new socks I knit are my new sleep socks and they are indulgent. We are consuming the last of the wine. Soon it will be gone, to the realm of the cookies and the Sweet Tart Ropes.
*Excepting at Moskey Basin when I went in up to my socks.
Dinner: Fried rice, chicken, veg and ghee.
Dave saw a tiny grey mouse on the path while cooking dinner. It grabbed and nibbled at a head of grain before disappearing into the underbrush.
7 p.m. Presentation, Pavilion
Moose watch (100 skulls/week)
967 moose, 31 wolves
At least 3 litters this summer
19 new wolves came from four sources
5800 moose bones collected
Heat deadly for moose, can be more easily predated.
Balsam fir, alder to stain antler
Beaver population down, wolf pop. up
Stranger on a train – Describe how I feel here that encourages them to feel the way I feel here.
Ecstasy with adrenaline
8:45 p.m.
I just had a lovely conversation with Candy Peterson after her presentation. She pegged us as good candidates for Moose Watch.
9/7 8 a.m. Inside Shelter 9, Daisy Farm
The air is cold this morning. The kind of night where it’s easy to mummy down to sleep, and hard to mummy up in the morning. We’re spending one more night here and heading to Rock Harbor in the morning. Another long lazy, cool day. We’re rationing fuel picks, so I have to wait for Dave to wake up before coffee.
9:30 a.m.
We’re onto coffee. We may run out of coffee before we get to Rock Harbor but that’s okay. You can solve problems there with money. I heard a low, intermittent thumping sound at Moskey Basin a few nights ago. Dave didn’t hear it. But I learned at the presentation last night that it may have been a bull moose calling out for a cow. So, cool.
11:30 a.m.
We have found two more Greenstones. People keep walking past and I am subjecting them all to a small lecture about Greenstones. No regrets.
Today’s chores:
Top off water before bed ✔
Throw back greenstones ✔
Apples for tomorrow ✔
Pack lunch easy access for the hike ✔
The air is less windy today, but colder. I wish I had gloves and a hat. A ranger on the dock said things should improve by tomorrow. We’ll finish Dirtbag Charcuterie on the trail tomorrow.
Did I just see a yellow oriole?
Dave just noticed that the beavers have girdled all the aspen in camp. They’re working on a project.
3:30 p.m.
I have found nine more greenstones, bringing our current total to 33. They’re easiest to find in matrix and there are far more unpolished than polished. Dave is rubbing one against a sandstone rock to see if it will polish at all. Results: Inconclusive. We will toss them all back into the lake before bed tonight. They’re abundant in the little creek from the beaver dam.
The sky today is muted shades of grey. The trees aren’t hiding in mist anymore. The lake is cold, and the waves are unpredictable. I was hesitant about going near the shore this morning. I think Minong was pleased to see Greenstone hunter. They aren’t as common as they used to be. Minong went to all the trouble of making these beautiful little agates. We honor it by picking up the prettiest parts of it and tossing them back into the lake.
We treated all the water we need to treat for the rest of this trip.
Update: Dave polished a rock. He’s exposing a beautiful turtleback pattern. Someone on the dock told me that the Ranger III left an hour early yesterday to avoid weather, so that may happen again Saturday. We hope to be in Rock Harbor by noon tomorrow. It will be heavenly if I get a hot cup of coffee in my hands.
I think the landscape over the last two days has changed to include more reds and golds than it had just a few days ago.
6:15 p.m. Site 9
We just saw beavers! Up close and munching on bark.
Dinner success: Chili mac: Chicken veg mix, tomato leather, chili seasoning packet (about half), Kraft dinner.
8:30 p.m.
Time for bed. The sky cleared up a little towards evening so the wind and lake are calmer. We’re hiking out early tomorrow morning. By 8:30 or so. We’re headed to Rock Harbor and since we’re so low on provisions, we’re both jazzed to visit a civilized town, such as it is. We’re hoping to be there by noon. We may go to the Greenstone for lunch because DBC looks sparse for tomorrow. What’s left of the food bag is practically adorable.
The moon was so bright last night, the stars didn’t show much. Coffee and granola. I am going to hike strong today.
11:30 a.m., a shady spot at Daisy Farm
It’s good we didn’t try to press on last night. I’m hiking strong today, but I’d have been flirting with disaster otherwise. Dirtbag charcuterie by the dock. Perfect weather.
3 p.m., Overflow Camp at Moskey Basin
We saw TWO WOLVES at 2:30 p.m. on the trail! Slinking through the woods away from the water. A dark grey one and a lighter color one. The campers here watched them chase a moose into the water.
Sorry for yelling, but not really. I’d show you photos of the wolves, but I was too concerned about not being predated.
4 p.m. on a rock by the dock
The leaves are not yet turning on the island. Isle Royale is already in Kodachrome. The water is cold, but I can keep my feet in for a few minutes at a time. Maybe I’ll be able to swim. Bright clear skies and warm air. Plus we saw TWO WOLVES. Dave is wading carefully.
5 p.m., camp again
Seeing two wolves was cool as fucking fuck. Now we get to make a wolf report. Also at the camp at Three Mile this morning, an all-black fox – save for the white tip of his tail – slunk through our campsite hunting grasshoppers.
Hike report!
Three Mile to Daisy Farm is a delight. Daisy Farm to Moskey is technically four miles. Mentally, it is six miles. The total distance so far is 2.7 to Three Mile, plus 8.3, so 11 miles. Mentally those miles were 13 miles. So 11 real miles, and 13 mental ones. We have campmates again. Four twenty-somethings from Minneapolis. They’re very funny. They’re all trying to see who can spin on someone’s little folding stool more than twice. No one has done it yet. Hilarious.
5:45 p.m.
We have two new campmates. A couple from Hyde Park.
8:30 p.m. Camp
The trails and forest floor are still vibrantly green. The lichens and moss on the basalt is every verdant shade. Asters are in bloom and line the trail to camp. I ate two thimbleberries today, tart enough to feel in my cheeks. We watched the water after sunset. No clouds to speak of. Good breeze. Horseflies by the lake.
9/3 8 a.m. Shelter 4, Moskey B.
The first thing we did this morning was to loosely pack all of our stuff and move it to an open shelter. Now we’re making coffee. The water access is easy and beautiful. We got up and went to the dock rocky overlook around 10 p.m. because we heard the northern lights were out. We nearly missed them because a heavy orange moon had risen low over the eastern horizon. It was stunning, but I hope we see the auroras tonight. (Dear Reader, we did not.) We had a gentle rain pass over us last night it was not predicted. The clouds are pretty much gone again by this morning. Finally heard a loon!
Today’s chores:
Eat Sausage ✔
Drink wine ✔
Fix backpack – Later, thanks
Swim? Wade ✔
Move to shelter ✔
11:30 a.m. Shelter 4
We waded in the water, and then had lunch. Dirtbag charcuterie this time consists of salami, cheddar, fruit leather, candy and cookies. Dave is cooling the wine in the lake for later. I finished knitting one sock, and started knitting a second. If it gets colder later in the week, I’ll be cozy af. Today is going to be a long lazy day at camp.
2:30 p.m. Near the Dock, in the only shady place we could find
No one is certain if they want to hike to Lake Richie and back tomorrow. We’ve been intermittently soaking in the lake and doing very little. In the heat of the day this place is very sunny everywhere. I stepped wrong coming out of the shelter (boots on) and kind of wanged my right ankle. I think it’s nothing, or something mild, but I’ll monitor it.
6 p.m. Shelter four
We’re both vibing on the site, and there is no rush to leave. We may stay another night. And the one after that. We spent a good chunk of the afternoon with our feet in the lake. Cool. High wispy, puffy clouds over camp this evening. Hot day, sunny.
Tonight’s dinner: Rehydrated chicken, rehydrated tomato-cheese sauce, yellow rice, corn and beans. Recipe: Soak chicken for 1 hour with tomato leather. Cook chicken and tomato for one Esbit pick. Add veggies, boil until Esbit is done. Put broth into one bowl, and chicken into another bowl. Cook the ‘ronis, up to two Esbits in broth for flavor. Divide chicken into two bowls, add cooked ‘ronis and veg. Mix with ghee for flavor. Fucking delicious.
Buggier by the water. I’m going to swab down and put on pants.
Boot got wet getting water :(.
Wolf Report
On 9/2/2023 around 2:30 p.m. we were rounding the trail to Moskey Basin from Daisy Farm. On the last low crossing before the boardwalk to camp, heading up, we spied two wolves slinking through the forest, away from the direction of camp. They traveled perpendicular to the trail. They were about 100 feet in front of us. The one in front was lighter in color, the one at the back had darker fur. I never expected to see a wolf on the island, so initially I thought it might be someone on all fours for some reason. I stopped in my tracks, pointed and whispered to my husband “Wolf. Wolf. Wolf.” To be sure he knew. The wolves hesitated briefly – I assume they heard us. But they continued on and were quickly out of our sight.
At camp we learned that the people on the dock had watched these two wolves chase a moose into the water, and the wolves slunk back into the forest, where I must have seen them.
9/4 8:30 a.m., Shelter 4, Moskey
No one is moving quickly, not in my camp anyway. We’re staying one more day, hiking to Lake Richie, then back here for one night, then Daisy Farm and Rock Harbor. It looks like the rest of camp is leaving, so we should have a quiet day. My ankle feels fine. My boot is going to spend the day in direct sunlight. I stayed up after sunset watching the stars pop out of the darkness. I could feel the pulse of the island in my hands as they rested on the bare rock. I crawled into bed around 10 and fell asleep instantly. No aurora, but I saw the depths of the night sky until a bright waning moon rose, and the gentle lapping sounds of the water meeting the 1.5 billion-year-old basalt slab that held me.
If I were going to give a piece of advice to the shelter graffiti artists, it would be that I wish haikus were harder so you guys had to think it through, and not just mash syllables together.
Today’s chores:
Mentally prepare to go to Richie ✔
Fix pack ✔
Soak in the lake during the heat of the day ✔
Eat sausage ✔
Dry boot as much as possible ✔
Pack tent ✔
Trash update: the trekking pole basket Dave found fits on my pole. I think I lost mine here in 2021, so the island has given me a replacement.
Tomato sauce leather in yellow rice is a game changing development. Such flavor!
Mid-Morning sometime
I fixed my pack! A seam near the zipper was coming undone, so I sewed the fucking fuck out of it and reinforced it with grosgrain ribbon. A grasshopper that is missing one of its hopping legs is laying eggs in the dirt on the rock by our shelter. She seems totally unconcerned with me. She’s focused on digging her hind end into the shallow dirt on the rock by the water. In May, we’ve only seen teeny tiny grasshoppers on young thimbleberry leaves at Lake Desor S. I wonder if this is her last day?
Noonish
High wispy clouds. Changing weather? Our grasshopper gal pal has expired after laying egg catches for a few hours. Kind of a beautiful life cycle moment. I hope her nymphs are strong and healthy.
3 p.m. Shelter 4
We have lazed about all day. This is a nice place to be married and in love.
The weather is cooler today, but still hot and sunny. More clouds than yesterday. The shelter is staying cooler than it did yesterday, so we haven’t wandered far from camp. Ate all the Sweet Tart Ropes. I have turned the heel on my second sock. Dave has finished Clive Barker’s “The Hellbound Heart” and has moved on to Charles Portis’ “True Grit.”
5:30 p.m. Shelter 4
Dave is making dinner. Once the sun was behind a cloud, I was able to spend a few hours watching the clouds pass over Moskey Basin. Bright puffers, traveling west to east, midway in the atmosphere. Some of them have shadowy bellies, but none look like storm clouds. Dave and I each felt a single drip, we aren’t concerned. The air is cooler. I watched a second grasshopper lay eggs in the dirt on the rock. I think it’s important when you’re on Isle Royale to dedicate a few hours to staring at the sky.
An older man has swum out to the middle of the water. Good for him.
I haven’t seen a camp fox here, but we do have a nosy camp squirrel. Dragonflies are hatching from our shoreline.
6:30 p.m.
The loons are singing many verses tonight. They’re calling from other sides of the lake now. At least three spots, maybe more. The loon’s symphony lasted a full 9 minutes. A wonderful sound to knit to. About halfway up the second cuff. These socks are much taller than I expected. They fit well.
Dinner: Chicken, taco Rice-a-Roni, corn, beans, cheese, ghee. It was voluminous.
Update: There is a camp fox. Dave snuck up on him, as he was sneaking up on me. He was about eight feet behind me, but I didn’t know until Dave showed up.
8 p.m.
High, wispy clouds. Tea with honey after dinner.
9 p.m.-ish
I think the weather is changing. The wind picked up after sunset. Zero percent surprised if we get rain tonight.
Dear reader, in September 2023 my husband Dave and I took our third trip to Isle Royale National Park. These posts are a record of my trip, and almost directly transcribed from the little notebook I carried with me. Anything in italics is a note from Present Me, who finally got around to posting these in March 2024.
Weather Prediction
Date H L Sunrise Sunset
9/1 74 37 7:13 a.m. 8:36 p.m.
9/2 82 64 7:14 a.m. 8:34 p.m.
9/3 83 63 7:15 a.m. 8:32 p.m.
9/4 78 64 7:17 a.m. 8:30 p.m.
9/5 79 60 7:18 a.m. 8:28 p.m.
9/6 66 54 7:19 a.m. 8:26 p.m.
9/7 62 54* 7:21 a.m. 8:24 p.m.
9/8 64* 55* 7:22 a.m. 8:22 p.m.
9/9 63* 54* 7:27 a.m. 8:20 p.m.
*=Not NOAA
9/1 – 8 a.m. Ranger III – Houghton
9/9 – Ranger III – Rock Harbor
No rain in the forecast, but gusty winds. May be rainy or cloudy after the 7th. (Tuesday & Wednesday.)
Note: It did, in fact, rain. It went from the last hot days of summer to proper fall overnight.
Rock Harbor 9/8 – Stay
9/9 Depart 9 a.m.
Weather Report
9/1 Accurate
9/2 Accurate, HOT
9/3 Rain at night, day sunny, hot, accurate
9/4 Accurate, partly sunny
9/5 Accurate, sunny day, t-storm at dark
9/6 Windy RAINY, Cool, Accurate
9/7 Cool, breezy, humic, clear, wind p.m.
9/8 Sunny, cool, accurate, no breeze
9/9 No entry, probably accurate.
What Litter We Packed Out:
• Camp soap on a rope
• Broken glass bottle (old)
• Trekking pole basket (Replacement for mine!)
• Baby Hulk sticker
• Knot of embroidery floss
• Fishing lure, snap swivel
• Piece of plastic bag
• Pieces of glass (small) |||||||| ||
• Someone else’s hair tie (ew.)
• Piece of clear, hard plastic
Oops don’t do that again
Things to do to improve your next visit
• Factor in how seasickness affects your hike.
• Take off quickly from boat, pack to go before boat
• Toothpaste tabs storage options
• Do not let lotion bar melt in the sun
• Hot pepper/hot sauce
• Get another Osprey bladder
• Camera, lighter, 18-300 mm lens, night photos, longer battery
• Magnet for dock fishing (1-5 pound pull)
• Separate corn and beans
• Ghee tub in Ziploc
• More tomato sauce leather, a lot
• Buff for Dave, neck and hair
• Alternative (???) options Mainland Me does not know what this means.
• Better rain jacket for Lindsay
• More fuel always
Animals seen 2023:
Two wolves
Family of loons, hunting ||
Squirrels ထ
Mergansers ထ
Water snake |
Smol toads ထ
Gartner snake ထ
Egg-laying grasshoppers ||
Herons ||||
Beavers |||
Large woodpeckers |||| (Pileated woodpeckers!)
Small woodpeckers |||
Snails in the lake (12)
Bald Eagle
Black fox
Red fox |||| |
Friday, September 1, 20212
9 a.m. Ranger III Lounge
We’re just past the bridge. It’s a beautiful morning and I think warmer than when we’ve traveled in May. The tops of some trees are already showing their fall colors. My general nausea has been on high alert recently, so I’ve already put my little motion sickness bracelets on. The Ranger has replaced the puke bags with literal chicken take-out buckets.
4 qts per person, per day, of berries you can eat.
2 gallons of apples per person, per day
Poo 50 steps from water
Soap and dishwashing – 50 steps from water
1000 moose, 31 wolves
Foxes steal hiking boots
6 p.m. Three Mile Group Camp Site #2
We did not make it to Daisy Farm today. The water was not smooth and my motion sickness got gnarly. I didn’t get to eat any food on the boat. I spent about 5 hours hugging my chicken bucket and staring at the horizon. When we got to Rock Harbor, I went to the shop to eat whatever was around, which was chips and Skittles. So it made more sense to listen to my upset guts and not walk another four miles. All the folks at this campsite are also refugees and wayward hikers. They’re friendly.
7:45 p.m.
We’ve had dinner – rehydrated chicken and shells and cheese.
9:40 p.m.
The sun has set on Isle Royale for the first time for me. The stars are just coming out and I have already found Pegasus. I’m back in the tent (red headlamp.) We will hike to Moskey Basin tomorrow – 8.3 miles. Continuing today would have been a bad plan. I am glad we stopped. There’s a good breeze, and clear skies forecasted. I hope to stargaze properly at Moskey tomorrow.
In late April of 2022, I took a convoluted transit hike. I went mostly solo because she who travels fastest goes alone, but I also got to spend time with a close friend. I made the whole journey without driving once, but I relied a lot on cars to get me where I wanted to be. I often took rideshares or cabs when I wanted to go somewhere further away than I wanted to walk. Amtrak did the heavy lifting for me, and I consider it an overall win. Not a perfect score, but a passing grade at least.
Canada geese just look so much better in the wild, compared to the parking lot median.
Wednesday, April 27
I packed my bag the night before, but my train didn’t leave until the afternoon so I spent the morning anxiously pacing around my house until noonish when my husband kindly drove me to the Forest Glen Metra station. It’s about a mile from my house, but I was carrying two overstuffed bags, and my therapist tells me it’s okay to accept help sometimes.
Remind me to tell you guys about dirtbag charcuterie one day.
Sadly, disaster struck when the very exact same moment that my Metra train to Glenview arrived, so did a big honkin’ freight train. I was on the side of the tracks with the freight train and literally did not see the Metra go by. So the first leg of my transit hike was already a bust. I pulled out my phone and called a rideshare.
My driver pulled up in her Nissan to Forest Glen Metra stop, and I unloaded my 65 L REI backpack into the trunk. My second bag was a smaller, leather-like backpack I had stuffed full with my camera, phone, backup battery, laptop and charger, as well as books, knitting project and snacks. Everything in my 65L was going to keep me fed, clothed, warm and sheltered for the next 10 days. In my smaller backpack were the tools I needed to take for this particular journey.
All my junk on the floor of Union Depot.
I had two reasons for heading north in the first place. The first, was to spend some long-overdue time with my bff. We picked a place between us to rent a cabin, that just happened to be the Wisconsin Dells. My commitment to not driving or renting a car is so immense, that I spent an hour on the phone with Amtrak trying to sort out my travel for this. Amtrak claims that for reasons starting with covid and ending with staffing shortages, they are unable to provide a PDF of the train schedules. This makes no sense to me whatsoever, and I don’t really believe it. Long story short, if you want to take an Amtrak train from Chicago to Wisconsin Dells right now, the train arrives Sunday-Wednesday. There is no train from Chicago Thursday-Saturday. Which seems shortsighted to me, but okay. My friend wouldn’t be able to make it until Friday, and the last train that I could take was on Wednesday.
The view from my campsite at Mirror Lake State Park.
So I booked the Wednesday ticket and planned to spend two nights in the woods. When I booked the trip in early March, I’d hoped late April would be at the very least a little leafy. This spring did not play ball. Rocky Arbor State Park was my first choice for camping, because it’s a short two-mile stumble from the train station. Unfortunately, the campgrounds weren’t open the week I was there. Honestly, I probably would have taken a cab to Rocky Arbor had I stayed there, because that makes me feel far less nervous than walking down two miles of sidewalkless, unshouldered, 55 mph speed limit highways, and that is what I’d be doing to get there. (I would not want to do this.) Instead, I headed to Mirror Lake State Park.
I am honestly surprised it worked.
As the Amtrak train headed north, leaving me at the Wisconsin Dells Amtrak station behind it, the sky was orange with the late afternoon sun. I took my chances trying to get another rideshare, but after five minutes waiting for a driver to find me, I picked up my bags and headed into the station to wait indoors. A few moments later, a taxi cab came and picked up another train passenger, so I called the number on the side of the van and one arrived for me shortly thereafter.
I had a pretty good experience with City Taxi 608-448-1818 but be aware they can get pretty busy during tourist season.
It was pretty cozy in there, honestly.
My driver was cool enough to drive me right into my campsite at Mirror Lake State Park. Absurd as this trip was, I wanted to minimize the amount of stressors I’d encounter. So I booked one of the few reservable campsites in this park at what was still the tail-end of winter season. I stayed in Campsite 60 – nestled in the heart of RV territory, but snuggled up against a ravine on two sides. An excellent mix of privacy and visibility – and if you’re a lady solo camping without a car, visibility can be your friend.
I got to camp and realized slightly too late that the water was still turned off for the winter season. There wasn’t a single faucet turned on in camp. There was a shower house with brightly lit, steamy windows, but every door was locked. The ranger station at the park entrance did have water, but by the time I realized that I would have been tromping back in the dark, which is never ideal. A kind RV camper took pity on me, and gave me a gallon jug of spring water he’d purchased when he realized the same thing I had just realized about the water in camp. I wish for him that every campground he stays at this summer has a neatly stacked pile of dry firewood a previous camper did not finish burning.
When all else fails, social engineering is worth a shot.
By the time I’d solved my hydration situation, I had exactly enough time left to eat dinner, lose my headlamp, and crawl into bed before things got too dark. This was my first real opportunity for cold-weather hammock camping. It had gotten pretty chilly when I was in Forest Glen Preserve a few weeks ago, but I spent the night uncomfortably chilly and sought out a new underquilt before coming to Wisconsin. I’d picked up, on advice from a friend, the Arrowhead Equipment New River Underquilt. I got the one rated for 25f, in average length, and in blue. I emailed the team before I ordered to make sure it could arrive in time, and it did with well over a week to spare. I have zero complaints about this quilt so far. It rained Wednesday night, and temps dipped into the 20s, but I didn’t feel chilled by any means. Not-warm at times, but never uncomfortable. It even rained a little bit, but the quilt kept the moisture away from the hammock and all my critical gear, and dried itself fairly quickly even on a cold, humid day. We’ll see how it stacks up over time, but overall, not bad.
I honestly think I like spring cold best of all.
Thursday, April 28
The weather was colder than predicted. It had rained all night, into the morning. It let up by the time I wanted to drink coffee, but I could still see my breath while I made it. I needed two esbit pucks to get the water as hot as necessary. I’m glad I brought the 2-in-1 jacket, so I could use the water-resistant layer to keep my butt dry while wearing the puffy layer to keep warm. The ephemerals were still asleep, but I saw plenty of crows, chickadees, jays, and robins around my campsite. I never did see the camp host. After a lengthy breakfast of a lot of instant coffee and granola, I emptied the rest of the gallon jug into my 3L bladder, and went in search of water.
Mirror Lake from the Newport Trail.
I took a meandering two-hour stroll to the ranger station. There are a lot of trails that criss-cross all over Mirror Lake State Park, so I tried to see as many of them as I could while my water jug was still empty. Eventually, I caught up with the Newport trail and made my way to the ranger station. With my jug filled up, I continued to follow Newport along the more direct path to camp – right on the lakefront. (What was that thing Buddha said about achieving enlightenment?)
Cozy af in here, guys.
I got back to camp just in time to snack on pretzels and cheese before the rain came through again. I spent the afternoon reading. The gentle thuds of each raindrop hitting the tarp, and the occasional breeze causing my hammock to gently rock, made for a highly relaxing afternoon. I nestled into my sleeping bag and put on extra wool socks. It was an excellent way to spend an afternoon.
Thousands of little birds skimmed the surface of Mirror Lake all evening.
Around 5 p.m. the skies had cleared enough that I walked down to the boat launch. Mirror Lake’s placid waters really live up to the name. The skies were flat and grey, but the shimmering water was vibrant. Thousands of sparrows and finches flitted across the surface hunting for bugs. I sat there for hours before I saw a single other person. Geese honked violently in what appeared to be a courting ritual. I snapped photos and knit on the dock until the breeze off the lake got too cold for me.
It was really something to see.
Walking back at camp I’d noticed some new neighbors. Early that morning, while it was still cold and rainy, two guys had set up a pretty serious tent camping operation. Their big tent was made of thick canvas, and pointed at the top to vent the stove inside. It must have been cozy in there, but I waved at those two GI Joes as they sat eating their breakfast in the cold rain this morning. They didn’t wave back. Their clothes and gear, including Yeti cooler, were all camouflaged so maybe they just didn’t expect me to be able to see them? While I was off at the lake, a couple had set up their blue pup tent, right next to their Ford hatchback right next to the Joes. It was a pretty funny contrast.
Before I went to bed, just at dusk, I think I saw a red raccoon climb into a tree. I never did see it come out. Did it live in the tree? Did it feast in the tree? It held its body flat and secure against the trunk of the leafless giant, pulling itself up with silent grace. Its ringed tail was the last to slink out of sight.
A fine mallard.
Friday, April 29
I think the temps stayed above freezing all night, so that wasn’t even bad. However, the pup tent car campers did not stay the night, so maybe that’s a point in the Joes favor. In the morning a woman staying in an RV near my campsite told me I had “some balls” for staying out without a car, in the cold. I take this as a compliment. I wonder how many balls I have? It’s “some” at least!
Canada geese over Mirror Lake.
I spent a leisurely morning in camp drinking coffee and eating granola. Instant coffee tastes like camp to me. If you’re physically uncomfortable while you drink it, it tastes much better. Eventually, I headed back down to the dock. The sun was out, and the day was looking brighter and warmer. I noticed Canada geese land loudly and gracefully on the surface of the water. Canada geese are really dependent on their setting. When I see them landing on the surface of Mirror Lake, it’s hard not to see them as majestic and fearsome forces of nature. When I see them on the median of a big box parking lot, they look like mean pests. There were fewer little skimming birds on the surface the next morning, possibly due to the bright day or the early hour.
Bufflehead family.
A family of ducks landed at once in a flurry of flapping and splashing moments before a classroom of kindergartners did the same thing. One of the associated adults told me the ducks were buffleheads and the kindergartners were on a canoe trip. A local summer outdoors program was kicking its season off early and loudly. The program owns one, very long, canoe, where two can sit side-by-side. Each of the four or five adults seated throughout the long canoe was surrounded by excited toddlers. The adults were able to paddle with, apparently, enough force to counter any drag created by the kids’ mini-oars, which they paddled with clumsy asynchronicity.
The weather was warmer, near 60. The bright light highlighted the stone outcrops against the glassy lake. I watched the silent lake, and the wildlife that crossed its open waters, while the remaining adults on the field trip chatted amongst themselves and ignored me. By the time the kids came back their singing indicated that the Muffin Man lives in Mirror Lake, which at best, sounds soggy.
Leaving Mirror Lake and going to Oxford, Wi.
I needed to be out of camp by 3 p.m. so I spent a leisurely afternoon packing it all up. The 65L bag was easier to pack this time (less food.) I wouldn’t be able to get into my AirBnB until 4, but because we waited way too long to book our cabin (and the first one we booked canceled on us anyway) the nearest one I could get was in Oxford, Wisconsin – about 40 minutes north. How me, and my bags, could get from Mirror Lake State Park to Oxford, was probably the largest transit challenge of this trip.
I’d like to tell you we got great use out of the fire pit, but it rained the whole time.
First, and with reasonable expectations, I tried to get a rideshare. One quickly booked me, but canceled just as fast when he realized that I lived in Chicago, but did not want to be driven to Chicago. I called the cab company that dropped me off, but no cabs were available. A second cab company was available, and was willing to drive me as far as I wanted to go, but I think I absolutely lucked out on that one. Normally, the driver told me, they don’t like to take cabs so far out of town on Fridays when they’re usually busier. Because I was there on a slow day, they were willing to take me. The fare was around $80, including tip, so it was also the longest and most expensive car ride of the trip.
This is the international symbol for “Don’t come over here if you don’t like gross people.”
The first thing I did when I got to the cabin was throw all my dirty laundry in the sink with some OxiClean and let it soak. I wouldn’t have access to a washing machine at all during my trip, so I took advantage of the chance to remove some camp funk before making myself presentable for town. I hung a line in the backyard and that helped shake them dry enough that they could air dry on an unused bunk bed when the rain rolled through.
Waiting for my friend I noticed how in Chicago we were just seeing mayapples and spring beauties come up, but in the Dells region, it was still leafless all over. Not an ephemeral in sight. Herons, sandhill cranes, and bald eagles were in good supply though. Vultures circled low in the sky. I could hear more wild turkeys than I could see. By the time my friend got there around 8 p.m. The rain had let up enough for us to drive to a tavern on the outskirts of Oxford, and have a beer with dinner. (She had the fish fry. We both had blueberry beers.)
There were plenty of Bald Eagles I could spot around this corner of Wisconsin.
Saturday, April 30
The rain never really let up. I was more interested in being damp and cold than my friend was, so we spent the day walking around the most touristy spots in Wisconsin Dells, doing all the touristy things.
My haul from the Dells Mining Co.
The highlights, for me, included a trip to Dells Mining Co., where I paid $40 for a bucket of sand out of which I could sift many gemstones. If I went back again, I’d pay for the bigger bucket. This was a delight.
After that, we took a ride on the Dells Boat Tour. This tour is one of the oldest continuous tourist attractions in the Dells and it’s not hard to see why. We took the two-hour tour which included stops at Witch’s Gulch, and Standing Rock.
I can see why they film all those tourism commercials here.
The rain created a foggy mist on the sandstone cliffs and canyons. Raindrops clung to delicate pine boughs and the fresh growth of ferns. Bald eagles hunted high above the Wisconsin River and the breeze was pine-scented as the shores of the river rolled past us. Eventually, when all the seats on the boat were soaked, I went inside.
It was a really beautiful place to be rained on, at least.
Mostly, my friend and I did a lot of hanging out, and you guys don’t need that info. The cranes that live near our AirBnB were bold, which was cool because it gave us an up-close view of them as we drove past.
My friend needed to head back to Minneapolis, and I needed to head north, but first we had a leisurely breakfast in our bnb. The plan had been initially to find some place to hike but the rain never let up, so we ditched that plan. She dropped me at Union Depot in St. Paul a few hours before my bus was scheduled to arrive.
Bigfoot knows that you can’t solve systemic problems by closing the fucking bathrooms.
The St. Paul Union Depot is gorgeous, I saw at least two wedding parties and a maternity photoshoot while I was there. It’s also, apparently, located in an economically disadvantaged part of the city. The public restrooms adjacent to the great hall were closed completely. A security guard told me without prompting that the restrooms were closed because “people were doing drugs in the bathroom.” Closing the bathroom seems like an inefficient way to solve that problem. I had to travel down two escalators and down a hallway to get to the tiny, open restroom. Not only was that a huge inconvenience to me, but when I got there I found a man doing drugs in the women’s room. (He ran off as soon as he saw me.)
Point is, St. Paul chose the least effective way to deal with a problem. Instead of offering supportive services to people who have substance abuse issues, and likely no homes, they just closed the bathrooms for everyone. This is disrespectful to every traveler who passes through St. Paul, and it’s disrespectful to every St. Paul resident who is experiencing homelessness. Shame on whoever made that move, I hope someone sues them for discrimination (which is what this is.)
Lake Superior is the prettiest dang thing I’ve ever seen.
My bus arrived just a few minutes behind schedule, but it quickly rolled north past marshy landscapes, and north woods suburbs. I arrived at the Duluth Transit Center around 9 p.m., a cozy little spot nestled into some of the larger buildings in Downtown Duluth.
Getting a ride from the Duluth Transit Center is not hard. I arrived into the bus depot around 9 p.m. on a Sunday, and while I wouldn’t call it a happenin’ place, there were signs of life. A security guard warned me that rideshares weren’t easy to get in Duluth, but I managed to get one in about 10 minutes. There are also a fair number of cab companies that are easily googable in Duluth.
The greatest bathtub in Duluth.
My rideshare dropped me off at a heckuva cute early 20th-century mansion-turned-BnB. I stayed in the Edwin Hewitt Room of the Thompson House on Third Street. My room had a view of the lake from the bed, and a clawfoot bathtub big enough for me to lie down in. I saw almost no other people there the whole time, which is normally something I look for in a camping spot, but got in a dang mansion this time.
I could lie down in it. That’s all I’ve ever wanted from a bathtub.
Monday, May 2
My goal in going to Duluth in the first place was to spend some time flipping through some undigitized documents at the University of Minnesota Duluth. I’m still processing all the information I turned over while I was there, and I’ll be happy to tell you all about it when the time is right, but the short story is I didn’t get to see very many of the sights in Duluth. And I had a whole google map made in case I had time! I saw almost none of the things I hoped to see, but I found everything I came there to find.
Mind the glare, this is the only shot I took of the bridge apparently.
During the day, I flipped through pages in a library surrounded by students stressed over finals week. In the evenings after they would kick me out of the library, with about four good hours of daylight left, I’d take some time to wander around Duluth. The first day I was there caught a ride to Duluth’s Aerial Life Bridge – right there at the edge of all the tourist stuff. I was there just before tourist season started, and the week graduates celebrated their achievements by taking robe-clad group photos in front of the bridge. Which makes sense, it’s pretty emblematic of the city. I then walked around the touristy spots, what few were open, just to see what I could see.
The view from my table at Va Bene.
Eventually, I wandered north on the Lake Walk. I spent some time picking rocks on the 12th Street Beach before having dinner at Va Bene. This Italian restaurant is one of the highest-rated in the city, and even before tourist season started, had a lengthy wait for parties without reservations. However, I learned that if you arrive this time of year as a solo traveler, you can probably walk right in and get the corner table, without waiting, and sit at a table with a full 200-degree view of Lake Superior. So that was cool. I had the nicest glass of red wine (Aglianico) to sip while I viewed life on a vast freshwater sea.
The day I was there the lake was calm as glass, a diner behind me commented you could “canoe on it without fear” that day. He was right, it was a glassy sea of calm, soft ripples, in all directions. Ships loaded heavy with ore slumped lazily offshore, waiting for their turn in the Soo Locks.
The clouds were low and grey as two fishermen slowly trawled. If the Keweenaw peninsula didn’t cut across the horizon the sky would have blended with the sea.
Offshore a family of mallards drifted noiselessly. Indoors my fellow diners dined at various volumes. It’s a cold spring this year, and while I was still dressed in a hat, scarf, and jacket, Duluth residents dressed in anything from shorts and flip flops, to full winter gear. Maybe some of them must have thick skin, but it’s mostly got to be stubbornness, right? The sudden rooster tail of a speedboat briefly broke the mirror-finish of the lake. After dessert, I decided that I’d be hard-pressed to agree that Georgia O’Keeffe wasn’t painting the space where a great lake meets the sky when she wasn’t painting flowers.
Full of cheese, wine, gelato, and heavy sauce, I made the decision to walk the two miles back to my bnb. Not because two miles is far, but because I realized too late, that everything in Duluth is uphill. That was on me, I should have thought of that. So, after walking two miles uphill with a food baby, I realized why it must be that there is no bikeshare in Duluth. The whole dang city is uphill. (There is a scooter share, but I didn’t see it widely used outside the Lake Walk area.)
The Lake Walk is the flattest walk in Duluth, unfortunately, everything is uphill from it.
Tuesday, May 3
I had such a productive day in the library that immediately after they kicked me out at 4 p.m. I had a car take me to Canal Park Brewing so I could get all my thoughts onto a blank Word doc while they were still fresh. Canal Park was kind enough to let me camp at one of their nice tables, with a view of the lake, for entirely too long and never even acted annoyed so I am grateful. I tikka tikka’d away at my laptop for nearly three hours and I felt alive, it was great. By the end I was lightly drunk, well fed, and mentally drained. So I went back to my bnb, talked to my husband on the phone, and fell asleep.
They’re very nice to campers who keep ordering beers and food.
Wednesday, May 4
By the time they kicked me out of the library I realized that the weather the last two days had been absolutely glorious. I’d missed it all. The sun was out, and things got as high as the 60s. Back in Chicago, they were on day 46 or so without sun, and I was wasting the sunshine indoors. That day, I decided to do the smart thing and walk three miles downhill, to see what I could see.
One of the many creeks that bisect Duluth.
Walking around is one of the best ways to get to know a place on its own terms and I got to know a lot about Duluth. There are creeks that cut across the neighborhoods and highways, which means most people are never very far from real wildlife. I saw deer grazing in people’s front yards. I saw plenty of ravens and gulls. I hiked about 500 feet of the Superior Hiking Trail, so I probably deserve a medal for that.
Maybe next time I’m in Duluth I’ll be able to hike this properly.
I wound up having dinner at Fitger’s Brewhouse, and needed to put my hat and scarf on by the time I got close to the lake. When I was done, I called a rideshare to bring me to my bnb, because I wasn’t feeling the uphill hike this time.
So sour, so tasty, but that can was larger than I expected.
Thursday, May 5
The sun brightened my bnb so early that I woke up well before my alarm every morning. I rearranged the room so the comfy chair I sat in while I drank my coffee each morning gave me the maximum possible lake views. Getting up so early gave me the chance to stand outside on the private attached deck, feeling the cold spring air on my skin. Earlier that week, I’d had a leisurely morning and was able to run a bath for myself while the chilly morning light filtered through the windows.
The view from my private porch in the room with the best bathtub in Duluth.
But on this day, I had to travel. All my laundry was filthy, my camera battery was dead, my snacks were all eaten, and all this made packing everything into my 65L bag incredibly easy. I shoved my laptop, notebooks, remaining snacks, and knitting into my backpack-purse, which had been my go-to carry-all for the last four days. After shoving everything into two bags, miraculously, I headed downstairs to vacate my room. I called four cab companies, and the nearest rideshare was 20 minutes away. I stayed less than a mile from the library, but it was a mile uphill and I was now carrying two heavy backpacks. Walking wouldn’t be impossible, but it sure wouldn’t be pleasant. Luckily, a rideshare driver who happened to be starting her workday found me and brought me to the library.
I spent the day reading old newspaper articles in the largely vacant library. By the time I was done, it was time for me to head toward the Duluth Transit Center. It’s kismet how that worked out. I had no trouble finding a ride to the center at that time of day, and no trouble at the Transit Center. My Amtrak ticket also paid for my transit on Jefferson Bus Lines, which runs daily service from Duluth to Minneapolis-St. Paul. The driver was friendly, my luggage was well-treated, my fellow riders were largely silent, and there was even an outlet for my phone. I caught one last rideshare of the day from the St. Paul Union Depot to my bff’s house in Minneapolis. I fell asleep so hard that night, you guys.
Bye Duluth, you were really nice to me.
Friday, May 6
I awoke to a notification that my train was delayed. It was super delayed. It was supposed to roll out of St. Paul at 8 a.m., and it didn’t until 1 p.m.
Ultimately, it left St. Paul at 1 p.m.
That morning at my bff’s house gave me the chance to share my journey on social media, while she worked in an adjacent office. I also took her puppy on a walk. (If you’re seeing this Kim, please tell Hazel she’s very, very good.) I caught a rideshare from her place to Union Depot and got to make friends with two fellow travelers in the waiting room. Two women, traveling separately, both of whom had never been on an Amtrak train before. Lucky them! The long ride from St. Paul to Chicago is just beautiful from the seat of an Amtrak train.
This is Chaplin, he’s a cat. I’d show you Hazel but she’s a puppy and wouldn’t sit still. Hazel fears Chaplin, which is reasonable.
As you roll out of St. Paul you follow the path of the Mississippi River for quite a ways. The landscape alternates between marshy paradise and rocky outcrop after rocky outcrop. You travel through the Driftless region of Wisconsin, which was spared from the glaciers, and so has a gently rolling landscape that, at times, remodels itself into impenetrable rock. At Tunnel City, Wisconsin the train car goes pitch black as your car skims through a limestone mountain, in a tunnel first carved by dynamite in 1847. By the time we rolled through Milwaukee, the setting sun bounced off the glassy windows and rivers of the city. As the sun sunk low and orange in the sky we traveled past the unmistakably flat landscape of northern Illinois. Ah, home. I’m glad I was smart enough to book a ticket to Glenview, because I live in Jefferson Park, and technically that’s the closest Amtrak station to my house. I was exhausted, and had no trouble getting one last rideshare all the way to my home. I got there just before 9 p.m. The driver, who was the best of them all, refused to let me carry my 65L bag, and delivered it to my door against my protests. It was nice. When I opened the door, my dog suddenly stopped borking and looked at me like she never thought she would see me again.
Home is where my dog is.
Transit summary
I took a lot of rideshares, you guys. I know that. I was also on a trip that should have been at least two separate trips, and one of them required a laptop. I walked as often as it made sense for what I was doing, but I wasn’t there to punish myself or compete with anyone else. Duluth does have a municipal bus service, but I was there with a mission, and didn’t take the time to learn how it works. I probably should have. But I also got to know a couple of really nice rideshare drivers. Including one guy who I had twice, and he’s the kind of guy who turns the Pantera down to a conversational volume so you can discuss the temperature of the lake and where best to camp around Duluth, so I obviously think he’s great.
Considering the great distance that I did travel and how 98% of that distance was covered via transit, I am willing to give myself a pass on this. There’s an adage in journalism that “perfect is the opposite of good.” It means that if you keep writing and rewriting your article over and over again until it’s “perfect” you’ll end up missing deadline, which is the opposite of good. So I could try and do a 100% transit-perfect trip, but for the breadth and goals of this trip, that would make things challenging. I can only show up where I need to be as the person that I am, and the person that I am is not as young as she used to be. I could make excuses, but a huge, Midwest-spanning, multidimensional trip would be hard to plan if I was taking a car, so since a 100% transit trip would have been extra super hard, (and sometimes dangerous in certain settings or places) I’d be setting myself up for failure in many ways. And that’s the opposite of good. So an imperfect transit trip, with last-mile support from rideshare drivers when I’m especially burdened with luggage, I’m going to round up to at the very least “good.” Maybe “pretty good.” I sure had a good time, and came back refreshed and full of ideas. If I’m not updating this blog as often, it’s probably because I’m writing. You can always drop me a DM on Instagram @ThirdCoastHikes if you’ve got something you think I should know about.
Thanks for coming on this long northern journey with me, everyone.
Spring is coming in slowly this year, damp and cold, but that won’t stop me from telling you about all the best ways you can get out and about Chicago’s magnificent landscape without a car. Please join me for any or all of these upcoming events where I will speak about where and how to get out in nature around Chicago, without a car. Chicago Transit Hikes: A guide to getting out in nature without a car
Clean out your gear closet and give it to those who want it.
Getting to your ideal camp setup isn’t easy, and for many people, it comes with a lot of trial and error. Backpacking and car camping can come with a hefty price tag – at least when it comes to buying our gear. A lot of us, myself included, justify spending hundreds of dollars on tents, sleeping bags, and other gear that we might use, generously, a few weeks out of the year. That’s not a bad thing, especially if you care for your gear to get the most use out of it, with the least amount of wear. But, eventually, we will either decide we want to upgrade for better features, newer bells and whistles, or any other reason. Getting new gear is easy, making sure that your old gear gets into the hands of people who will get the best use out of it after you’re done with it, is a little bit trickier. Thankfully, there are organizations in Chicago that want to take your old outdoors gear and give it to people who will appreciate its use.
Photo courtesy of Alice Weinert, who fixed her broken pants with a little know-how and duct tape.
Frustratingly, this list is not as long as I wanted it to be. Many of the organizations that first pop into your mind when you’re thinking of places to donate gear, actually don’t take it or aren’t set up to make sure it goes to the people who need it the most. I focused on including organizations with a presence in Chicago, who are established, and reputable in their services, and that don’t discriminate against those who receive their services because of their race, creed, color, affiliation, sexual preference, or gender identity.
Photo courtesy of Alice Weinert, who also used duct tape to fix her deflated lantern.
How used is too used?
Before we move forward, let’s talk about your used gear. If you’re like me, you try to keep it in good shape and use it for as many years as possible before upgrading. If you’re someone who isn’t like me, you might own heaps of barely-used camping gear that you tried along your journey to finding what works best for you. Both of these are perfectly good approaches, but we all have varying levels of comfort regarding how used our gear is for our own use. Before donating your old sleeping bags, tents, camp stoves, cooking gear, or clothing items ask yourself one important question and answer it honestly:
This sleeping bag zipper broke to the point of unusability, but I was able to fix it with some grosgrain ribbon, and mild sewing skills. With the broken zipper, it would not be suitable to donate, but it would be now.
“Would I still use this item?”
Not “Do I think someone with fewer means then me wouldn’t mind using this item?”
Not “Do I think someone with less outdoors experience than me would be okay with this thing?”
Not “Do I think this gear is fine, as long as someone else performs extensive repairs on it before they use it?”
Only “Would I still use this item?” When I say “I” here I mean you, dear reader. If the item is not in a condition where you, personally, would use it in its current state, then it is not okay to donate to someone else.
If it needs to be cleaned or repaired, go ahead and do those things before donating that gear. All the gear you donate should be in ready-to-use, as-clean-as-can-be condition, without holes or wear that will make it less-than-usable for someone in need.
Where to donate your gear:
The Night Ministry, 1735 N Ashland Ave Ste 2000, Chicago
Who do they serve: Anyone in Chicago who struggles with issues surrounding housing insecurity, poverty, and homelessness, including health care, social services, community outreach, and spiritual care (when requested.)
What do they do: The Night Ministry is most visible when they take their mobile service unit (it’s a bus!) to communities who need those services, and provide food, medical care, and counseling to those who could benefit from them. The Night Ministry has been doing this vital work since 1976 when a coalition of North Side congregations wanted to provide services to people experiencing homelessness who lived in their neighborhoods. That mission has since expanded. Today, they also manage several shelters, including a youth-oriented one where those seeking services are not required to use their legal name or identify as the gender they were assigned at birth. Since LGBT youth are far more likely to experience rejection or harassment from family members for their sexual orientation or gender identity (and because people of color disproportionately make up the population of those LGBT persons who are experiencing homelessness) they are more likely than their cisgender, heteronormative or white peers to experience homelessness. The Night Ministry just wants to provide shelter, medical care, food and humanity, regardless of who you are.
Where do they operate:
The city of Chicago.
When do they need donations:
All year long, but right now they especially welcome winter and cold-weather gear.
What do they need right now:
The Night Ministry is fulfilling an important gap in services that exist in Chicago. Any time of the year they will provide direct support to any person who chooses, or has no other option, but to live on the street – and that is where your old camping gear comes in. Gear donated to The Night Ministry is distributed directly to the people they meet who stay outside. The things they need most include:
Tents (four season is ideal, but not required, anything for 2-3+ persons is perfect.)
Single-person sleeping bags (four season is best, but three season will work too.)
Blankets and pillows
Sleeping pads
Camp stove (with spare fuel)
Cooking equipment and other gear.
Warm winter coats and outdoor clothes that are not worn directly against the skin.
New long underwear, new thermal clothes, new socks, new underwear, new sweaters. The Night Ministry does not accept these items if they are used, but they are vital if they are new. (You know how a fresh pair of socks feels when you’re out on the trail? Okay, now imagine that feeling but you’re never ever off the trail, and the trail is made of concrete.)
As long as the item is still in a condition that you, dear reader, would still use, The Night Ministry will accept it. When in doubt, donate it, and their staff will evaluate it.
What don’t they need or want?
Items worn beyond use or used items that are worn directly against the skin. (No used socks, used underwear, used thermals, used long johns, used sweaters.)
How can I donate:
Schedule your donation in advance with The Night Ministry by reaching out to Miranda Dean, Resource Coordinator. The Night Ministry has limited capacity for pickups but, especially for larger items, they may be able to come to pick those items up with advance notice. Drop off hours are 9-5, M-F, at their offices, 1735 N. Ashland Ave., Suite 2000, but those hours can be flexible when required.
Youth in Chicago who need a safe and supportive place to hang out after school, and who deserve the chance to experience the outdoors regardless of their family’s income or zip code.
What do they do:
This chapter of the Boys and Girls Club manages over a dozen different after school clubs in the city of Chicago. Over 15,000 kids are members of the Club, and the vast majority qualify for free or reduced-price lunch and are from minority populations. At the club they find mentors who believe in them, and a place where they have fun and feel safe.
The Club also manages the Union League Boys and Girls Club Camp, which brings approximately 1,000 kids each year from Chicago, and gives them the camp experience they deserve. The camp is located on Lake Francis, in Salem, WI., just the other side of the border from Illinois. There campers experience all the best that camp has to offer, including campfire ceremonies, storytelling, arts and crafts, boating, music, fishing, hiking and teambuilding. Y ‘know, camp stuff. Campers from low-income families attend one week of camp at no cost to them, but a second week may cost as much as $50 per camper, per week. No camper is turned away because of inability to pay.
Where do they operate:
The Union League Boys and Girls Club manages over a dozen after school clubs all over Chicago. Those clubs are scattered all over the city, from as far north as Bucktown, as far south as Auburn Gresham, and east towards Archer Heights. Those clubs give kids a safe place to stay, learn, grow, get support with their homework, learn something new, and become leaders in their communities.
When do they need donations:
Right now is a great time, especially if you’re trying to get rid of your old winter camping and hiking gear. They will accept donations year-round. While the bulk of their campers visit in the summer months, they do have winter outdoors opportunities, so coats, gloves, hats, boots, and other winter gear is welcome.
How can I donate:
The club asks donors to coordinate their gear donation in advance. Reach out to the administrative office, 65 W. Jackson Blvd., in advance to coordinate that drop-off. Their contact information is listed here.
What do they need right now?
Sleeping gear:
Campers at the Union League Boys and Girls Club Camp stay in live-in cabins, so they need bedding for those campers who are unable to provide their own. The sleeping gear most in need includes:
Sleeping bags – Single person, three- or four-season, in good condition.
Twin bedding – In good, clean condition.
Pillows – A stuff sack full of clothes might work for you and I, but not everyone.
Clothing
The camp is open year-round and serves many kids who come from low-income families, where high-quality winter clothes may not float to the top of the family budget. If kids arrive to camp without proper outdoor gear, The Union League Boys and Girls Club will provide those items to campers, if they have them. (The kids are not asked to return that gear at the end of their stay.)
The Union League Boys and Girls Club will take donations of quality outdoor clothing, which is clean, and in good condition. They are most in need of coats, snow pants, scarves, boots, hats, gloves, new wool socks, new long underwear, and new thermal shirts. Because they serve kids as young as 6 and as old as 18, just about every size is needed.
What don’t they need or want?
Anything beyond clothing or sleeping gear. They are not currently in need of any other supplies.
Chicago Voyagers, 534 Pratt Ave N, Schaumburg
Chicago Voyagers
Who do they serve:
Chicago Voyagers was founded in 2008, as a local affiliate of the first Midwestern chapter of Trips for Kids, (TFK) which has been taking underserved kids on outdoor adventures since 1986. Groups on adventures consist of 8-10 teens between the ages of 12-18, and two chaperones. Programs happen rain or shine, but they do adjust the schedule if weather calls for it. Most of the program participants are low-income Chicagoans of color, and Voyagers will also make room for LGBTQ+ campers, or religious campers, who require extra accommodation to enjoy these adventures.
What do they do:
Chicago Voyagers takes kids from Chicago on canoeing, hiking, cross country skiing, rock climbing, river trips and camping adventures. Each year more than 400 teens from the Chicagoland area take outdoor adventures all four seasons of the year. Voyagers who complete these adventures report improved confidence, communication skills, teamwork and personal responsibility.
Where do they operate:
The campers they serve tend to be from Chicago, and the surrounding suburbs but the adventures these kids go on are all over the Midwest. Lake Michigan sailing adventures, canoe trips to the Boundary Waters, hiking trips to Busse Woods and Starved Rock, bikepacking trips to Wisconsin and Michigan, canoeing on the Mississippi and climbing both indoors and out.
When do they need donations:
Chicago Voyagers takes kids outdoors year-round, so they will take donations at any time. The bulk of the trips occur during the spring, summer, and fall. Chicago Voyagers primarily takes donations of items that are in excellent or like-new condition, but they do prefer to receive high-quality gear donations including brands like The North Face, Marmot, Granite Gear and Arc’Teryx, but they don’t care a lot about branding if the equipment in question is very good.
What do they need right now:
Wool socks and warm hats of various sizes (especially larger hats that will more easily accommodate textured hair.)
Base layers and fleeces jackets.
Top quality rain gear.
Climbing helmets that are under 5 years old and have had no impact of any kind.
4-6 person tents with minimal wear – previous repairs are OK if done well.
Keen sandals or something similar for paddling programs.
Water dromedaries
Whisperlite or Dragonfly stoves
Bike kick stands
Large camping screen houses
Thermacell products
What don’t they need or want?
Gear that is excessively used or worn, or with unfortunate repairs. Chicago Voyagers will make repairs, when reasonable, to larger items including tents or sleeping bags, but they do prefer lightly used items from well-known brands, because that is in line with the experience they intend to provide their adventurers.
YMCA Metro Chicago, HQ 1030 W. Van Buren Street, Chicago
YMCA Chicago
Who do they serve:
The YMCA of Metro Chicago serves kids from all over the city, of all ages and income brackets. YMCA Metro Chicago manages five camps outside of Chicago, where urban-dwelling kids can enjoy classic camp experiences.
What do they do:
The YMCA provide fitness centers at affordable rates for the general public, but it’s day camps, after school classes, and community programs are what really transforms the Y into a community asset.
The Y’s BOLD GOLD Program (Boys Outdoor Leadership Development, Girls Outdoor Leadership Development) encourages kids who are 14 years or older to get even further into the backcountry than they would have experienced at other YMCA camps growing up. This program is in its first year in Chicago. Bold Gold trips can be adventures in backpacking, climbing, mountaineering, rafting, or canoeing (just to start.) Over 75 percent of the programs in this program will be minimum four nights in the backcountry, supported by a group of peers. Groups are created with a focus on diversity and inclusion, so kids from any zip code or income level has those opportunities. Campers who cannot afford expensive equipment or trips can quality for a full- or partial scholarship. The first trips in this program are expected to hit the trail summer 2022.
Where do they operate:
The YMCA is probably in your neighborhood, or pretty close to it. YMCA Metro Chicago has dozens of locations for community-centric activity and fitness, but they also operate low-income affordable housing for those who truly have not got many options a place to stay. The five camps they operate give Chicagoans the opportunity to get out into some of the most beautiful spots around the Midwest. Their camps also include year-round camping, family camping opportunities, and camps that support campers with special needs, including spina bifidia or other developmental or mobility challenges.
When do they need donations:
Winter is a great time to donate equipment, but backpacking equipment will get the most use during the spring, summer and fall months. The Bold Gold program is in its nascent beginnings, but the hope is to give those kids who have attended YMCA summer camps, but who are ageing out of that program, the opportunity to stay engaged and get even more involved in the outdoors.
What do they need right now:
According to Bobby Thomas, Executive Director at YMCA Camp Duncan and Camp Independence for YMCA Metro Chicago, they need just about everything. The program currently has a small handful of tents, backpacks and other basic gear, but to get the program up and running, they’ll need a ton more. Thomas is working on obtaining grants that would allow the Y to purchase new equipment, and equipment that should not be provided used, including socks and long johns. Currently they will accept donations of backpacks, boots, tents, cooking gear, sleeping bags, sleeping pads. Rain gear is especially needed, for either bodies or backpacks, would be very welcome.
As long as your gear is in good enough shape that you, personally, would still use it, the YMCA would be able to put it to good use.
What don’t they need or want?
Trekking poles, pocket knives, skis, snowshoes and other large winter gear. I guess kids just don’t use trekking poles like us olds do.
Again, if your gear is in a condition that you would not use, or that could not be easily repaired, do not donate it to the YMCA.
How can I donate:
Reach out to your neighborhood YMCA in Metro Chicago and ask to “Donate to Camp Duncan.” You should be able to drop your donated gear off directly at the front desk of your neighborhood YMCA. This advice is primarily for Metro Chicago YMCA, so suburban YMCAs may not be aware of the Bold Gold Program, but any of the city-based ones should be able to get your gear to the right place. If the representatives at the front desk are very confused, ask them to reach out to Bobby Thomas for follow-up. They will accept gear donations at any time the YMCA is open, but it never hurts to reach out in advance if you’ll be donating a large amount of stuff.
Evanston residents can donate their gear to the Evanston YMCA, and it will go to support campers at Camp Echo, but officially that is a whole separate camp system.
While out on the trail, my sleeping bag sprung a leak. I didn’t have a sewing kit with me, but I did have duct tape. This repair held so well I forgot about it for like 3 years.
Address: 4279 South County Highway U, South Range, WI 54874
Size: 825 acres
Activities: Camping, hiking, hunting and trapping, fishing, picnicking, swimming, snowshoeing. This is a great spot for photographers.
Reservations: Amnicon Falls has 35 campsites. Sites 1-6 are first-come, first-served only, the rest can be reserved in advance through wisconsin.goingtocamp.com. Site 35 is reservable by persons with disabilities only. Sites 32-33 are double sites, suitable for larger groups. Sites 16-17 are primitive walk-to sites. RVs are allowed at all but sites 6, 10, 16, and 17, which are tent-only.
Cons: A busy park, consider reserving your campsite in advance if possible, wayfinding was put in decades ago so sometimes you have to look up to see where trail markers are attached to trees.
This year, Dave and I spent two nights at Amnicon Falls State Park, in Wisconsin, exploring the breathtaking falls, spring florals, and billions of years of geologic history within this magnificent park. The drive from Chicago to Grand Portage, Minnesota is a long one. I would rather spend a few nights at a state park along the way, instead of driving straight to the departure city before getting on the boat to Isle Royale National Park. (You can read about my trip to Isle Royale National Park here.) Amnicon Falls was the perfect place to spend a few nights before going on a much bigger adventure.
The Native American history of Amnicon Falls goes back at least as far as 5000 BCE. Old Copper Culture Native Americans came here looking for copper to make tools. From around 500 CE Woodland Native Americans hunted and fished here. Ojibwe Native Americans (also called Chippewa) lived here when Europeans first paddled through. These Native Americans bartered and traded with the European trappers, at first. But after signing the Treaty of 1842 this land was ceded to the U.S. government in exchange for money, goods, and safeguards for traditional hunting, fishing, and foraging rights. The provisions preserving those rights were largely ignored by the State of Wisconsin until a series of court rulings in the 1970s, 80s, and 90s that favored Native American rights on key issues like hunting and fishing, but also property ownership. Today the Chippewa people continue to live in the area and play a vital role in protecting the wildlife and biodiversity of the region. Just this week six Chippewa tribes filed suit in federal court against the state of Wisconsin for violation of those treaty rights, when the state allowed hunters to kill 200 wolves this past February.
The Amnicon River flows northeastward from its origin in Central Douglas County to its mouth at Lake Superior. In the heart of the park, the river separates into two streams and throws itself down three (sometimes more) waterfalls, of almost 30 feet each. Over the 30-mile course of the river, it descends a total of 640-feet. Within the short two-mile stretch of river within the park, it drops a full 180 feet.
As it flows northward the river collects water from a drainage basin that contains 125 square miles and eight lakes. This watershed contains the only native muskellunge populations in northwestern Wisconsin. From the swamps and bogs found at the headwaters, the river picks up decaying vegetation and tannic acid which gives the water a distinctive “root beer” color.
The main attraction at this park are the falls themselves. And they are, without a doubt, stunning, but for me, the real reason to visit this park is its geologic history and its excellent interpretive information. The falls are beautiful, sure, but what really knocked my socks off was the Douglas Fault, the geological formation that created the falls in the first place.
The great big rock wall just to the left of the falls is the Douglas Fault.
The first thing I recommend visitors to Amnicon Falls State Park do is to visit the ranger station and pick up two free publications: Amnicon Falls State Park Visitor newsletter, and Amnicon Falls State Park Geology Walk. Why? Because the falls are cool but learning literally how they got there is mind-blowing.
Ancient volcanic activity created the basalt trap rock that forms the falls. You can see this rock layer from the upper falls. From the lower falls, you can see the sandstone layer that predates the basalt layer by millions of years. At one point this spot was at the bottom of a deep seabed, and a result of that is the sandstone here is about four miles deep. Downstream the river has weathered steep walls through this sandstone and created a wide, flat, shallow bottom just below the falls.
From stop three, on the little island, you can see the Douglas Fault itself. The exposed reddish-brown rock behind the falls is the exact location of an immense fracturing and movement of that basalt bedrock about 500 million years ago. That fault extends from about Ashland, Wisconsin to somewhere around the Twin Cities. The bedrock south of the fault was slowly forced upward and to the north. Geologists think the rock may have moved upward as far as three miles. It is far more common for faults to move downward than upward, but that action would explain why the sandstone here is at the same height as the basalt layer. You can see this all plain as day with your eyeballs if you visit this park. Over millennia water did what it does best and eroded away the tougher basalt layer, and the softer sandstone layer, creating the magnificent falls within the park.
The Douglas Fault is just behind Dave. Hi Dave.
The campground is also a good bet. This park and campground are both very popular and limited in space, so if possible try to make your campground reservations in advance. Do not count on a walk-up site being available. Check out the Amnicon Falls State Park Visitor newsletter for the length of each campsite. Some are set as far as 70 feet back from the road, while others are as close as 30 feet to the road. Each campsite has a fire ring and picnic table. There is no separate space for tent campers away from RV campers, but the campsites are spaced well apart. It is easy to avoid seeing or being bothered by the other campers. Generators are not allowed to be used by anyone in this park, which does help keep the noise down.
There are about two miles of trails total in this park, so it’s a great option for a very relaxing trip, or if you’ve got kiddos and don’t want to roam too far.
A natural island in the river divides the falls and adds the trails that take you all over the Upper Falls, Lower Falls, and Snake Pit Falls, with extra trails you can take to see Now and Then Falls (when it exists.)
When we were there in late May 2021, they had turned on the tap for Now and Then Falls.
There are also a handful of covered bridges. The Horton Covered Bridge spans the river at the Lower Falls, and it’s a great spot to view the Upper Falls.
The Upper Falls are wide, and you can get down to splash in them using a questionable set of concrete steps.
There’s about a 4-5 foot drop from the last step to the base of the falls.
The Lower Falls are bigger and best viewed from the main park trails just west of the parking lot. The state of Wisconsin has wisely put a cell phone stand at the very best spot for you to take a selfie of your whole group, with the Lower Falls in the background, so take advantage of that.
The trails on the island meander over rocks and roots, but give an up-close view of beautiful and rare flowers like the prairie wild rose, and the always lovely columbine.
If you can hike all the way down to the bottom of Snake Pit Falls, I recommend that you do. The trails are not well marked, often include switchbacks, and have steep drops or roots and rocks in the path. If you can manage all that, keep your peepers peeled for what looks like a concrete wall made of large, rounded pebbles. This is a natural geologic formation known as a conglomeration. Go and find all the glacial erratics you can see.
Walk further to the western point of the island where the river becomes one again. Especially on a bright sunny day, the light bouncing off tall red sandstone walls and the cool brown water at your toes, it’s easy to feel comfortably out of place in the ancient history of this land.
The river is clean and – as long as you stay out of the falls themselves – swimming and wading are allowed. There are definitely some spots just below the falls where you can easily sit and soak, but rockhounds will want to wade along the wide shallow river bottom looking for cool rocks. Fun fact: All those agates you find washed up on the shores of Lake Superior? Many of them formed within the rock layers just behind these very falls.
I’ve got a soft spot for native plants, but jumpseed jumped to the top of my shit list this year.
I’m going to war with the jumpseed in my yard. When I moved in two years ago, the side yard was overrun by thistle, dandelions, and invasive, weedy things that thrive in moist soil and semi-shade. The giant hostas planted there did just fine in this environment, so I left them alone. The first year I was here I spent hours filling dozens of lawn bags with noxious, invasive plants that have no business in my backyard. But in my choice to remove all the nonnative plants, I made a mistake in leaving the jumpseed. It has since taken over, and it’s even starting to crowd out the giant hostas.
Jumpseed is a native plant, which is why I left it there in the first place. It’s not as pretty as its cousins, smartweed, and knotweed, which thrive in sunnier conditions than jumpseed does. Its flowers attract honeybees, bumblebees, wasps, and ants, who are all good. It also attracts stink bugs and leafhoppers, which are less cool.
It’s crowding out the giant hostas, for funk’s sake.
It’s called jumpseed because it practically jumps right out of the ground, with alternative leaves splitting into pairs off of a singular stalk. The seeds themselves also jump as far as 10 or 13 feet from the plant when ripe. From that, almost overnight, the seed stalk jumps up, growing tall. It’s a prolific self-seeder, and it’s starting to spread to the front yard.
These jumpseeds took root in the dark space beneath a juniper bush and my front steps.
This labor day weekend I spent a long, sweaty hour on the west side of my house pulling jumpseed. I know I pulled it too late, and it’s going to do it again next year. Immediately after every part of my body remotely exposed to the task was itchy, and jumpseeds had gripped tightly onto my hair. I spent 30 minutes in the shower just washing seeds down the drain. This is another reason jumpseed is such a prolific spreader. It’s seeds have tiny hooks that easily grab onto the hair or fur of traveling wildlife, including me.
Be careful, these little guys stick to everything.
I put down a seed mix I got from my brother, who works with a native plant restoration company in central Illinois. That mix includes obedient plant, new England asters, swamp milkweed, rosemallow, bundeflower and indigo
Next spring I will go out there early with my clippers and snip all the little jumpseed leafs I can find before they go to seed. I’ll probably do this for many years to come. If we’re lucky in a few years the seed mix will outcompete the jumpseed. By then the front and back prairies should be established well enough that I’ll be in a beautiful little prairie oasis on my little slice of an urban acre.
It took me about half as long just to de-seed my hair, as it did to de-seed the yard.
