Isle Royale, September ’23 – Pt 4 Daisy Farm to Rock Harbor, Ranger III

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.

The Ranger III docked in 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.

Ranger III docked in Rock Harbor.

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

Small islands in the lake.

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.)

Islands in the lake.

Trip Tally September 1-9, 20212

Presented without commentary, or explanation.

Nights                   8

Greenstones       34

Animals (less wolves) 30 + 20 +20 +20 +1 + 20 +2 +6 +2 + 6 = 148

Wolves                 x 2 = 300

Miles (Mental) + 23 = 323

Shelter for storm + 50 = 373

Romance             + 100 = 473

Food budget       + 10 = 486

Gifts received     + 20 = 503

Paunch reduction            = 10 = 513

Packout points   + 23 = 566

Notes unrelated to anything

Types of Bonk on Isle Royale

  1. In the shelters – watch your head. Dave’s bonks |||, Lindsay’s ||
  2. On the trail when your body runs out of fuel. Quick sugar.
  3. 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
The knitting project I brought to the island.

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

Windigo  -> Feldtmann, two nights

Island Gifts

Saw TWO wolves 9/2/2023 2:30 p.m.

Replacement trekking pole basket

Two nights shelter 4, Moskey Basin

Fresh apples, 9/2023

Found 34 greenstones

Became skilled greenstone hunters

Daisy Farm shelter 9 for rainy day

The view of Moksey Basin.

Ambient Sounds of Isle Royale

The lapping of the waves

The fwoosh of the Jetboil

The absence of sound

The haunting cry of a loon

The chirps and flutters of the grasshoppers

The call of the ovenbirds

The resonant roll of the big lake

The thunder passing over or past

The pattering rain on the undergrowth

The plopping drips of rain from the shelter roof

The deep horn on a distant ship

The view from Moskey Basin on a misty morning.

Isle Royale, September ’23 – Pt 3 Lazy days at Daisy Farm

9/5 8 a.m., Shelter 4 still

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.

Sunrise over Moskey Basin.

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.

A greenstone inclusion in a small, grey rock.

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.

Two bowls full of sliced cheese, jerky, apples, and cheese, and two cups of tea, on a picnic table.

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.

A heron fluffing its feathers on a grey day.

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.

Red and black camp fox.

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.

The lake with rougher waters and misty trees.

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.

A knit sock and a ladybug on a picnic table.

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.

Photo from inside the shelter. A fox is outside on the picnic table. There is laundry hung to dry.

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.

A beaver, sitting in the water and gnawing on a stick.

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.

A beaver sitting in the water and gnawing on a stick.

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.

A heron standing atop a broken tree.

Isle Royale, September ’23 – Pt 1 Houghton to Three Mile

Houghton, Rock Harbor and Moskey Basin

A blue lake and cloudless sky with a rocky outcropping in the foreground.

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.

The Ranger III docked inside Rock Harbor.

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.

Moskey Basin on a misty morning.

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 |||| |
A red fox making a funny face.

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.

Ranger III Chat on Boat

  • Filter and chemical treat H20
  • Blue-green algae, “spilled paint,” “pea soup,” “floating globs or mats” – AVOID TOTALLY
  • Channel 16 on boat radio for park help
  • 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
A tent set up in a wooded campsite, with laundry hanging on the line.

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.

A merganser duck in the water.

Chicago, Dells, Duluth & Back: My Far Northern Transit Hike – Part 1

By Lindsay Welbers

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 and pine trees by a lake
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.

Grapes by a train station
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.

Two overstuffed backpacks
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.

Unleafed trees
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.

A taxicab at a campsite
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.

A hammock campsite
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.

A gallon jug of water
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.

Instant coffee in the rain
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
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?)

Inside the hammock
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.

Mirror Lake, Wi
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.

Mirror Lake
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.

Mallard
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!

Geese over Mirror Lake
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.

Ducks on the water
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.

Squirrel in tree

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.

Cabin with Adirondack chairs
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.

Laundry hanging off deck railing
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.)

Bald eagle
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.

Pile of gemstones
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.

Witch's Gulch in Wisconsin Dells
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.

Boat and creek on a misty day
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.

Sunken dock by water
The Wisconsin River is so dang pretty.

Click here for Part two

Click here for Part Two of my Far Northern Transit Hike.

Transit Hike Trip Report: Fort Wayne on the Fourth of July – Part 1

Story by Lindsay Welbers, photos by Aubrey and Lindsay Welbers

I didn’t leave the state of Illinois at all in 2020. Illinois has been a blue island in a red sea for most of my life, so after months of COVID-19 statistics showing our neighboring states weren’t taking the pandemic as seriously as Illinois was, I kept my travel limited, and in-state. I didn’t visit family for the holidays and read books about Isle Royale National Park rather than visiting it. The second I obtained my first vaccination appointment, I was eager to get out into the outdoors far away from my own urban environment.

Jefferson Park Blue Line platform

I think road trips are okay, but they aren’t my favorite. I get motion sick pretty easily, and I think driving a car is a boring, prolonged experience where I can’t even read a book or nap. So when my sister, Aubrey, suggested meeting up somewhere between my house in Chicago and hers in Cleveland, to visit for a few days, Fort Wayne floated up to the top. Her husband planned to drive to Rockford, Ill. to visit his family over the holiday weekend. Aubrey would drive with him to Fort Wayne, where he would drop her off, before continuing onto Rockford. He would then pick her up on his way back to Cleveland. I decided to take a Greyhound Bus to Fort Wayne, from my home in Chicago. Neither of us would have a car while we were in Fort Wayne.

The view from the Clinton Blue Line station.

Around 8:45 a.m. on Friday, July 2, I hoisted my 25L REI backpack over my button-down shirt, kissed my husband, scratched my dog’s ears, and walked out the front door towards the Jefferson Park Blue Line stop. Tapping my Ventra card on the turnstile, I began the first public transit leg of my adventure.

I hopped off at the Clinton stop, still as dank as always, and walked to the Greyhound Bus Station, a place I had never been. An employee pointed me to the correct door for my bus. Once boarded, I plugged my phone in, pulled my mask up, plunked my headphones in, and let my mind wander while the scenery rolled past.

Greyhound Bus, which is actually serviced by Miller Bus Lines.

From the Skyway you can get a brief glimpse of Lake Michigan, which I always try to do. Wolf Lake’s industrial landscape tells a dramatic story from a geological perspective. The bus stopped in Gary, giving me a glimpse of City Methodist Church, a stunning gothic building now in ruins and returning to nature in its own climactic way. Things get nice and agricultural east of Gary, and I spent much of my time between bus stops looking for shapes in big, fluffy cumulus clouds. What little I saw of South Bend didn’t suggest it is quite the transit utopia the current transportation secretary would have you think it is, but admittedly, I didn’t get off the bus. By the time we stopped in Elkhart to stretch our legs, the sun was high in the sky and I was glad I put on sunscreen that morning.

Hey Aubs.

The bus rolled into Fort Wayne around 4:30 p.m., a little later than scheduled, but not enough to irk me. I tucked my button-down behind the spot on my backpack where I’d clipped my bike helmet, and walked for about 10 minutes through south Downtown Fort Wayne. I rounded Parkview Field to Jefferson Avenue, I had to shield my eyes from the afternoon sun and as I walked to my Airbnb in the West Central neighborhood. My sister had arrived about 30 minutes before and we hugged for the first time since November 2019.

The river was a little high the afternoon I arrived at Promenade Park.

We first hiked up to Promenade Park, on the St. Joseph River. I learned that the residents of Fort Wayne call themselves Hoosiers and not Fort Wayniacs, but they come from every corner of the city to spend time here. It was about a 10-minute walk from our apartment to this stunning park, completed in 2019. Strolling past Adirondack chairs, we admire the beautiful native landscaping and modern sculpture. The amphitheater is elegantly designed to accommodate the river’s seasonal flooding, and everything in this park is accessible. Aubrey and I grabbed beers and pretzels from Trupple Brewing’s café in the building and enjoyed them in the beer garden. We texted an old friend, John Wagner, who lives in town about our plans to meet up the next day, before deciding to hike further into Downtown and try to find something to eat.

Bison mural at The Landing, the oldest block in the city.

We strolled past a four-story-high mural of a bison and found ourselves at The Landing. The site of the first trade houses built in Fort Wayne in the mid-1800s, it’s now a pedestrian-only street with abundant restaurants, arts spaces, and patios. The street was mostly blocked off for a live band and beer tent, so we moved on towards The Deck at the Gas House. At the corner of Superior and Clinton, the former site of a now-defunct Amtrak station, we ran into our friend John, and his wife, Dani Wagner, biking towards their favorite vegan-friendly restaurant. Fort Wayne is a denser city than you would think, and its 120 miles of bike-friendly trails mean many people own a bike and use it to get around, even if they do still rely on a car for day-to-day commuting. We finalized our plans to meet up the next day and went on our separate ways.

The view from The Deck at the Gas House.

We arrived at The Gas House, we learned that it was busy. The restaurant wait was long, so we went to the adjacent The Deck at The Gas House, where we watched kayakers paddle past while waiting for a seat to open up at the bar. The water in the river is muddy but relatively clean. European Americans founded Fort Wayne in the 17th century, in part, because it is the site where St. Joseph River, St. Mary’s River, and the Maumee River all converge. At every point in this city’s history its rivers, from trade to flood, were the main driver of change.

The Old Fort, and our pal John.

Across the river from The Deck at the Gas House is the Old Fort. The grounds are open to visitors every day with special programming occasionally. The original fort was built in 1815, less than a quarter-mile from where this replica now sits. The replica was reconstructed in the 1980s, as faithfully as possible to the original fort. Today, it’s sited on a beautiful campus adjacent to Headwaters Park. When I rolled in on my bicycle, the main fort was open and the barracks were full of soldiers in period clothes, eating sandwiches. The grounds are open at all times, but the buildings are only open during events. Admission is free but donations are welcome.

That’s me, on the bicycle.

The lands that present-day Fort Wayne sits on are the ancestral lands of the Myaamia, Kaskaskia, Kiikaapoi (Kickapoo), and Bodéwadmiakiwen (Potawami) and Peoria tribes. The Miami tribe chose this site as the location of its capital city, and called it Kekionga. It was the central meeting and trading site for many decades, hosting official tribal councils and the large meeting house. When Europeans moved in, the Miami at first benefitted from trading with them. Europeans noted that this place was a short two-mile portage from the Little River, which connected to the Mississippi. The Miami continued to live at Kekikonga through British colonialism, the French-Indian War, and the American Revolution. During the Northwest Indian Wars, the United States Army burned villages and food stores but was forced to retreat after suffering high casualties at the hands of forces led by Little Turtle. In 1794 American General Anthony Wayne led his forces of well-trained former Revolutionaries through what we know today as Northwestern Indiana. Wayne wrote to a colleague during this time that his troops were “laying waste [to] the villages and corn-fields” of fleeing Native Americans. On September 17, 1794, Wayne personally chose Kekionga as the site for a new fort, which was named for him. In a speech at the Treaty of Greenville in 1795, Little Turtle called Kekionga “that glorious gate … through which all the good words of our chiefs had to pass from the north to the south, and from the east to the west.”

To the northwest of The Deck is Headwaters Park. By 1982, flooding was becoming without question A Problem in Fort Wayne, even then-President Ronald Reagan showed up to help sandbag Downtown after flooding made national news. The Headwaters Park Flood Control Project set out to find an environmentally sound solution for what was an inevitable annual problem. Businesses were removed from the flood-prone area, in a “thumb” of the St. Mary’s River. By 1985 flood damage in the “thumb” alone was estimated at $3.9 million ($9,922,755.82 in 2021 dollars) and represented half the flood damage in Fort Wayne that year. Today, native plants and wildlife flourish here, and 600,000 people visit each year. This sort of forward-thinking project is exactly what we should replicate all over the U.S. to help curb climate change.

Veo bikes are a great and cheap way to get around Fort Wayne.

The next morning I grabbed my first Veo Bike. The local bike share program is easy to use, and scooters are more popular than bikes. Riders download the Veo app, input credit or debit card information, and scan an available, dockless, bike or scooter to unlock it. Bikes cost $1 to unlock and 5 cents per minute to ride. My longest ride was about 35 minutes and cost about $3. Scooters cost $1 to unlock and 25 cents per minute to use. End the ride by locking the bike’s rear wheel, and following logging the end in the app. Aubrey was able to bring her personal bike, so when we met up with John the next morning at the Fort Wayne Farmers Market’s, she spent a few minutes locking her bike to one of the city’s ample bike racks, but I was able to just put up a kickstand, lock its wheel, and walk away.

Collectivo Coffee and GK cherry hand pie. (If I could do it again, I wouldn’t change a thing.)

There are over 60 vendors at the Fort Wayne Farmers Market. It’s attended by thousands of people each week. It is held from 9 a.m. to 1 p.m. on Saturdays and 3 p.m. – 7 p.m. on Wednesdays. I had a GK cherry hand pie. It was flaky, crisp, and buttery without leaving my hands feeling greasy. The cherry was bright and sweet without being cloying or saccharine. From the market, we went to Collective Coffee, which faces Headwaters Park from the southeast side of the St. Joseph river. I had a cold brew black coffee there, it was served in a pint glass and at first, I assumed it was someone else’s because the nitro process made it look like a freshly poured Guinness. I happily drank it in the bright, airy space underneath the potted tree in the converted warehouse space.

Fort Wayne Outfitters at Promenade Park. Hi John.

Feeling caffeinated and fueled, we started the big bike adventure part of our day. John Wanger, in addition to being an old friend from my hometown in Central Illinois, is currently a photographer at Fort Wayne’s NBC affiliate. This year he was nominated for an Emmy for his work reporting on the protests surrounding the murder of George Floyd at the hands of a white Minneapolis police officer. When John moved to Fort Wayne from Los Angeles he quickly realized that he loved the community, history, arts scene, trails, and transit options he found there. He graciously spent the day giving us a tour of the best Fort Wayne had to offer.

Bike racks everywhere.

First, we rode, with me trailing on my sturdy Veo, to Fort Wayne Outfitters at Promenade Park, where I rented a Scott Bike. Four hours and a bike lock cost $33. My own bike at home is a little beat up, and a bike share bike is about comparable in terms of brake responsiveness to my own bike, so I am in the habit of jamming on my bike’s brakes to get it to slow down. At first, the Scott’s sensitive disc brakes nearly sent me over the handlebars, but I managed to keep it upright.

Johnny Appleseed’s Gravesite at Johnny Appleseed Park.

From there we rode onto the River Greenway. The River Greenway is 25 miles long, and as we peddled we saw public art on a permission wall, where talented spray paint artists use the space as a rotating, self-regulating art exhibit. We also rode past Lawton Skate Park, a 20,000 square foot park where Tony Hawk once showed up, unannounced, as part of his American Wasteland Secret Skatepark Tour in 2005. The park’s flowing design gave the legendary skateboarder the chance to do tricks and stunts he wasn’t able to do anywhere else on the tour.

The final resting place of John Chapman, better known as Johnny Appleseed.

From the Rivergreenway, we hopped on the Spur Trail, a sweet, leisurely ride along the very edge of the river, which lead us to our destination, Johnny Appleseed Park. In 1845 John Chapman arrived in Fort Wayne. In his lifetime, John had already become an American legend. He was better known then, and to this day, as Johnny Appleseed. He traveled the United States planting apple tree nurseries and leaving them in the care of a neighbor who sold trees on shares. Johnny returned every year or two to tend to the nurseries, so the popular image of him planting seeds all over the continent isn’t far off. He planted 15,000 trees within the 42-acres he maintained in Fort Wayne. He was known around the city and lived here until he was 70 years old. He was buried in the cemetery on the farm of some friends, and Hoosiers have cared for his grave ever since. I wanted to visit the final resting place of this American legend.

The headstone reads “He lived for others.”

Johnny Appleseed’s Gravesite is a thoughtfully maintained plot of land, that Chapman would probably approve of. The simple grave is covered with rocks and surrounded by a short wrought-iron fence. The headstone reads “He lived for others.” The landscape is full of native plants, and decorative fruit trees, including apples and cherries. This meditative space really shows the affection Hoosiers have for this American legend.

Each fall Fort Wayne hosts the Johnny Appleseed Festival in this park, where thousands of people eat apple pies, drink cider, and celebrate the legacy of an American legend. Visitors who want to learn more about Chapman should visit the Fort Wayne History Museum, 302 E. Barry St., which has a permanent exhibit on his life, and time in the city. Today the park’s 31-acres include a campground, with key code-protected shower facilities, and Camp Canine, a members-only dog park.

Junk Ditch Brewing (good gose.)

Leaving the park, we hopped back on our bikes and took the Rivergreenway to the Junk Ditch Brewing Company, 1825 W. Main St. This James Beard-award nominated restaurant opened in 2015. Their blackberry gose is tart without hurting your cheeks, and more dry than sweet. Would recommend.

From Junk Ditch we rode on bike lanes, city streets, and sidewalks. Fort Wayne changed the law to allow cyclists to ride on sidewalks, but please be considerate of people who may be slower than you, or who have mobility concerns. While crossing a bridge over a river, with a railing to our right and traffic to our left, all three of us got off and walked our bikes to give room to a woman pushing a stroller, because anything less would be very dangerous. Please use consideration and caution while riding your bike on the sidewalk in Fort Wayne, and take bike lanes or trails whenever possible.

Even Death likes pizza.

Our next stop, we visited the Fort Wayne Museum of Art, 311 E. Main. Though these two stops were on opposite ends of the same street, the Rivergreenway remains the best way to get around Fort Wayne’s central district without your car. It’s mostly separated from traffic and the landscape and public art keep it from being boring.

Good art.

For $8 admission, we walked through eight galleries featuring works from notable African Americans, glass sculptors, historical Hoosiers, and two galleries full of works by early 19th-century artist Alphonse Mucha. This small, but dense, museum is thoughtfully laid out, with rotating exhibits from all around the world.

I learned that Minor League Baseball has $14 tickets and wine slushies, so that rules.

That night Aubs and I met up again with Dani and John and went to a TinCaps game at Parkview Field. Fort Wayne’s minor league baseball team draws a packed crowd all season long. We bought tickets 15 rows from third base for $14. The team name refers to the fabled tin pot that Johnny Appleseed was known to wear on his head as he wandered the country. Their logo is an apple wearing a cartoon tin cap. In the gift shop, I bought a t-shirt featuring a sub-brand of the logo they did, Manzanas Luchadoras. Because it is a luchador apple I mean come on. The home team lost that night, but the gameplay was taut for the last few innings.

Manzanas luchadores

Check out Part 2 here.

Transit Hike Trip Report: Fort Wayne on the Fourth of July – Part 2

Story by Lindsay Welbers, photos by Aubrey and Lindsay Welbers

Check out Part 1 here, if you missed it.

The next morning we started our big paddle adventure. Aubs and I packed a picnic lunch, towels, sun hats, and swim gear and hiked back to Promenade Park. Because we reserved our kayaks online the night before, check-in was a breeze. I am not 100 percent comfortable on boats. Kayaks on a slow-moving, clean river, I can handle. Getting into and out of the kayak is usually the most traumatic part if the weather cooperates, and this boat launch has made getting into and out of your boat almost fun. The boat is set on a stable platform that allows it to slide into the water. You pull yourself in and out using convenient handrails. Because the boat is not in the water when you get in it, there is almost no wobble. The launch and dock are both fully accessible, and cool as heck.

The beautiful, sprawling pump station. Hey Aubs.

Once in the water, we paddled all three rivers over the course of about four hours. First, we paddled down the St. Mary’s, past The Deck at the Gas House, which at noon on the Fourth of July was somehow very quiet. There are beautiful views of downtown from this spot river. We turned around after the old municipal pumping station, a beautiful, sprawling stone building with gorgeous windows. It’s situated at the base of what is today, Headwaters Park. We turned back from there and floated west for a while, where things get less urban and it gets easy to spot wildlife. Rounding a big wide bend in the river around noon, Aubrey and I stopped to eat sandwiches and granola bars that had melted in the sun. Here we spotted no less than 10 turtles sunning themselves on logs. We paddled under a bridge where cliff swallows were nesting. Paddling underneath is the best way to get an up-close view of hundreds of tiny flyers darting in and out of the small openings to their mud-and-stick nests.

There are tons of bridges in Fort Wayne, and your humble author paddled under some of them.

We paddled back towards Spy Run Creek, which has a very small dam and is today popular with anglers. I should warn you this is not the dam on the St. Mary’s River, that dam is a much bigger, more serious dam that would be dangerous for a kayaker who found themselves on the wrong side of it. There is a warning sign at the convergence of St. Joseph and St. Mary’s rivers, so look out for it to avoid a dangerous situation. The dam on Spy Run Creek, however, is calm but the water can get shallow and sandbars are common. Heron and softshell turtles can be spotted along the shore.

It’s very easy to paddle off into some wild places in Fort Wayne.

After going home to shower and rest, Aubrey and I headed back into town to grab a bite to eat and watch the fireworks. We got to Coney Island Hot Dog Stand, the oldest hot dog stand in the United States, and I learned that I don’t like onions and mustard enough for this to be my go-to, but it was served promptly and politely and cost $1.65, so it’s a good hot dog. John Mellencamp’s Ain’t That America came on the radio while we were there, which felt a little on the nose.

Visit Coney Island Hot Dog if you like feeling like an extra in a John Mellencamp music video. (I had fun.)

After that, Aubs and I killed a few hours wandering the alleys of Downtown Fort Wayne seeing how many murals we could find. It’s a lot. The alleys are narrow, so they’ve been turned into an ever-expanding art instillation, with pedestrian spaces wherever possible. 77 Steps, features LED-pendants of all different lengths, and hung at different heights. They change color constantly, and their flowing shape is reminiscent of the meandering rivers in the city.

816 Pint & Slice was out of slices, but not out of pints.

We popped into 816 Pint & Slice just moments before they closed, they were out of pizza so we grabbed a beer each and sat on the patio under the vibrant alley murals. Afterward, we ambled past Sweets on Main, where I got a gooey Bear Claw scooped into a waffle cone. It was too rich and I couldn’t finish it. (Would recommend.) We spent the remainder of the night sitting near a grassy spot Downtown, watching families set up for the fireworks.

Fort Wayne shoots its fireworks show off from the tallest building Downtown, so it can be seen from just about anywhere in the city.

On the Fourth of July in Fort Wayne, the fireworks are shot off from the top of the Indiana Michigan Power building, the tallest building around. The fireworks can be seen from miles in every direction. The finale, however, happens in every neighborhood all night. Indiana has some of the loosest fireworks laws in the nation, so this is not a place to be during a holiday if fireworks are bothersome to you.

Good art though.

On our last day in Fort Wayne we got up and walked to The Landing for breakfast. I had a cold brew coffee from Utopia, and a sausage, biscuit, and egg sandwich. The sage in the sausage is delightful, and the biscuits are big and lightly sweet. Then we headed back to the apartment, gathered our stuff, and rode off for our last bike adventure.

The Lindenwood Nature Preserve loves you, and wants you to stay hydrated.

We took the River Greenway west towards the Lindenwood Nature Preserve. The part of this ride where it diverges from the Greenway and goes north on Lindenwood is a little tricky. There are blind corners, and while it is a designated bike path, there are not markers, barriers, sidewalks, or shoulders to ride on. Ride with caution in the lane, and watch for cars. Bike racks are available in the parking lot of Lindenwood Nature Preserve. This one was by far the longest Veo ride I took, 34 minutes, about 4 miles, at a total cost of $3.

A hub-and-spoke trail system.

Lindenwood Nature Preserve is 110 wooded acres that the city of Fort Wayne bought from the Lindenwood Cemetery across the road. The cemetery is where some of the oldest graves in the city, including those of several founders, are located, but the preserve was never developed. Today, it’s a beautiful natural setting not at all far from Downtown. The Campfire Ring acts as the trailhead for everything, and the trails are laid out in loops from the ring. The Trail of Reflection is a one-mile loop that, at least up to the Pond Overlook, is fully accessible and relatively flat with low grades. The Maple Spur is a quarter-mile trip through tall maple trees. If you look closely you might spot a garter snake here. The Trillium Trail is abundant with wildflowers, especially in the spring. Look for wild geranium, wild ginger, bloodroot, spring beauties, jack-in-the-pulpit, and three kinds of trillium.

The Pond in the Lindenwood Nature Preserve.

We hiked back to the parking lot just in time to see Aubrey’s husband, Scott Heisel, drive in to pick her up and go back to Cleveland. I finagled a ride back to Downtown in the back seat with their dog, Mia.

Mia, who allowed me to share the backseat with her for a short while.

This is the one car ride on the trip, and I am including it here to be honest with you. Transit hikes are an imperfect system, but catching a ride with someone you know, who is already going that way, I’ll allow it this time. We headed back to 816 Pint & Slice, to enjoy a slice before everyone headed back their separate ways. Scott realized there was a used record store just a few minutes away, so we killed another hour there. The temperatures soared to around 90 that day, which wasn’t a problem when we were under the canopy of the nature preserve, but in the concrete jungle, the heat is more oppressive. I was glad to have a little air conditioning.

The Maple Spur at the Lindenwood Nature Preserve.

Scott and Aubrey dropped me at the Citilink Station, 121 W Baker St., about an hour before my bus arrived. The station was closed to observe the holiday. There wasn’t anyone at the station, and city buses were not running. On government holidays, riders at this station should not count on being able to access its indoor shelters. My Greyhound bus arrived about 25 minutes early and left about 5 minutes early. The driver back to Chicago was a mask-enforcer, which I appreciated. I plugged in my phone and headphones and watched the scenery roll past back towards Chicago.

Wolf Lake is always so dang pretty, even from the Skyway.

By the time we got to Wolf Lake the sun was setting and reflected purple and orange against the water. I noticed that Lake Michigan was a darker shade of blue than it was when I rolled through a few days before. From the south, the sun setting west of downtown gilds the edges of our tallest towers.

GO!

Walking from the bus station I tapped my Ventra card on the turnstile and an old familiar sound dinged, telling me to “Go!” After about 5 minutes on the platform, I step onto a Blue Line car and sit comfortably away from the mostly masked car full of socially distancing riders. Above ground once again, I remembered all the rides I’ve taken down the 606, when we pass the Damen Avenue Bridge. Exiting at Jefferson Park the art decorating the bus stop reminds me that I am returning to REALITY.

REALITY

I hiked the 10 minutes from the station to my house, and when I get there I found my husband outside trying to encourage our anxious herding dog to take a walk. The moment she saw me, she practically pulled him down the block with all 26 pounds of her force. Her docked tail wiggled furiously when she got to me. Good dog.

Home is where my dog is.

Isle Royale Trip Report: Part I – Voyageur II, Feldtmann Lake, and Siskiwit Bay

Dear reader,

Isle Royale National Park is the least visited of all National Parks, but it’s the most returned to. When I first visited in 2019, I had done minimal reading about the place. I knew that I had gotten into backpacking, that this was a Midwestern National Park I had not visited, and that it was called a “backpacker’s paradise.” If you do any amount of research about Isle Royale you’ll find that people speak about it with great reverence, almost like the island is a magical place. I was ready to round those folks up to “romantics” and let them hike their own hike. By the time I left Isle Royale the first time, I knew without a doubt that it is a magical place for which I, personally, feel great reverence. The island got me. I haven’t spent a single day not thinking about Isle Royale since I left. I wasn’t able to make it in 2020, so I took the very first chance I could in 2021 and spent eight nights in early June, hiking the island. I should note that the Grand Portage Band of the Lake Superior Chippewa have been the caretakers of Isle Royale since time immemorial. They call it “Minong” which means “The Good Place.” That description, thankfully, is as accurate today as it always was.

I haven’t exactly figured out how to write about Isle Royale. Generally, I like to take the tone that everywhere I find in the Midwest is a place that you should visit. Especially those trails that are less traveled than others. I can’t do that with Isle Royale. Everyone who can and wants to go to Isle Royale absolutely should go to Isle Royale. It’s without a doubt the best place I have ever been to. It is difficult to get there. It is difficult to get around once you are there. The amenities are very sparse. There is no cell phone reception. Wi-fi doesn’t exist. I learned that there is a satellite phone, but it costs $1 a minute. The weather can change on a dime, which could delay arrival or departure by days. A visit to Isle Royale requires a great deal of planning, preparing, and doing your homework before you get there. The island rewards those who slow down, this is not a place for a quick visit. The average visitor stays about 4 days, and from my perspective that wasn’t close to long enough.

I won’t claim to be an expert on Isle Royale because I am not. I also won’t encourage you to go there on a whim, this is a very different place than your neighborhood park. Instead, I’m going to share with you my own travel journal. I literally carried this little notebook with me on the trail, and in this and the next two posts, I have transcribed and clarified them for you. The photos are all mine, and all from this trip. This will be a 3-part series, to keep things manageable. All notes in italics are added by me, on the mainland, to help clarify or add context to places where I was talking to myself when I wrote it.

Weather predicted for IR and what happened:

If you try to predict the weather for Isle Royale you will find most weather reports change hour-to-hour or vary depending on what end of the island you’re looking for. In effect, it’s impossible to predict Isle Royale’s weather. The night before we left for the island, I wrote down the predicted weather and all week that became the official weather report. It turned out to be about as accurate as I could ask for.

               H            L What happened

6/7         77           61           ☼                     Sounds right

Tues 8  70        59        ⛅                   Rain (t-storms) 6:30 a.m.; nice, sunny p.m.

Wed 9  65        57        ⛅                   No rain, wind change, cooler by the lake

Thurs 10           69        55   🌧83% noon    Rain 4 a.m., t-storms all a.m., overcast, temp right

Fri 11   56        50        🌧 92% all day             rain midnight, fog all day

Sat 12  56        50        🌧 76% a.m.                Fog a.m., rain at night, nice afternoon

Sun 13 69        51        ⛅ 3%             nice, sunny a.m. rain noonish, clear p.m.

Mon 14             73        57        ⛅                   GLORIOUS

Tues 15             66        60        ⛅                   Cooler on the lake

6:30 a.m. Hat Point departure ✓

10 a.m. Fri – Box delivered to the dock, Windigo ✓ It worked!

10 a.m. Tues 15 catch Voyageur II at Malone Bay ✓

More aquabats if you can (I meant Aquatabs. All the water available Royale must be treated.)

Trash bag too                                   Pen?

On-the-go Dave Food ✓                                  Bug spray

Camp towel? ✓                         Dry bag? ✓

Voyageur II docked at Grand Portage, Hat Point. A fine ferry, just check on your seasickness meds.

June 6 Feldtmann Lake Site 1

Sharing a site with my new buddy Austin from Minneapolis, and Dave (Dave is my husband). Covid rules (and previous ones) have caused us to share a campsite. No big deal. The Voyageur II isn’t quite as charming to my seasickness as the Ranger III.

Pink lady slippers – orchids that are native to Isle Royale National Park. These were spotted on the Feldtmann Lake Trail on June 6, 2021.

The second we hit the Feldtmann Lake Trail we saw at least a dozen pink lady slippers. The hike to the overlook is deceptively easy and the hike from there to camp is deceptively long.

The hike to Grace Creek Overlook is easier than you’d think. A good day hike option if you plan to stay in Windigo.

Saw a bull moose almost immediately upon getting into the camp. Notable day for flora and fauna. Hot, sunny, glad I got a brimmed hat. Black flies in abundance.

Bull moose swimming across Feldtmann Lake on Isle Royale National Park in June 2021.
That same bull moose ignoring me.
A moose in water is kind of like an iceberg. Above the neck is just like 2% of the moose.

6:30 p.m. – As we were making dinner, we heard something big splashing on the shore. I spied a bull moose diving for supper – too close for comfort but so amazing. Eventually, he came on land! Right on the trail! My campmates and I kept a grove of trees between us, and it as it walked right through our campsite! We worried about the dinners we abandoned when we abandoned camp, and now his big hoofs were hoofing right past them! He wandered off (without upsetting dinner any more) into the woods behind our camp and shook the water off like a dog. Another camper told Dave it was a “swamp donkey.”

This big guy came swimming up by my campsite one evening. Then he wandered through my campsite. It was terrifying, I thought he would step on my dinner.
Moose are great swimmers. They dive deep to the bottom of the inland lakes on Isle Royale National Park because that is where the saltiest, protein-rich plants grow.
During the growing season these plants will make up 30-40% of the moose’s diet.
Then he came up on land and ambled right through my campsite and it was terrifying. He must have been 9 feet tall.
That’s my foot, size 9 in women’s, next to the footprint of the moose that wandered through my campsite.

June 7 – The beach at Siskiwit Bay, 3:10 p.m.

The sun wakes us up at 5 a.m. here, which worked out because the thunderstorm started at 6:30. Leaving Lake F. (after rushing to pack) I watched a storm cloud rise 90 degrees straight up over the warm air of F. Lake. Thankfully, the trail is mostly away from the water between there and Siskiwit, which insulated us from some of the worst of it. Things had more or less moved on by the time we got to the little overlook at the top of the ridge.

Handsome little butterfly.

My rain jacket came off just after F. tower. That’s when the mosquitoes found us. F. ridge trail is beautiful and an easy descent. The bugs can fuck off.

We took Site 1 (group site). IR is very crowded, but everyone is behaving themselves. I waded up to my knees in the brisk bay first chance I got. Dave is combing the beach for rocks.

Siskiwit Bay, looking out towards the lake.

Last night after our dinner date with a moose, we wandered to Rainbow Cove for some great rockhounding. We didn’t bring our headlamp, or we may have stayed for sunset. Another time. (We were so tired.)

Dave skipping rocks at Rainbow Cove.

Having camped on a moose highway, we were concerned about setting a guy line and causing a moose to trip and crush us in the night, so we left the flaps flat on Dave’s side of the tent. No one got crushed, so it must have worked. It’s so sunny and warm, I am glad I brought this dress. (I brought a t-shirt dress. It was a great idea. Bring a t-shirt dress! It’s just a long t-shirt.)

A different swamp donkey at Feldtmann Lake.

10.2 miles is probably the longest Dave and I have ever hiked on purpose. All our dogs are barking. No more big hikes for 6 nights, and nowhere to be tomorrow.

The beach at Siskiwit Bay.

8:25 p.m. Sitting on the dock at sunset

Some campers are building a campfire in the community ring. We hung out all afternoon while dudes played frisbee. Everyone was enjoying the heat and sun. A nice Canadian family made dinner on the dock. Very wholesome party scene.

When my fellow campers got to Siskiwit Bay and read the signage, they learned that fires were allowed in the community ring, but no one could find the community ring. So they did their best and made one where it looked like others had set one previously. The very next day trail maintenance crews came in and installed this brand-new grate. I didn’t stick around for the inaugural fire, but we did move the grate up and down a few times because neither of us had ever seen one that hadn’t been warped by 1000 previous fires.

June 8 Group Camp 1 10 a.m.

I have had such a leisurely morning. It’s downright l u x u r i o u s. I got up with the sun, Dave slept in. I drank coffee on the dock. At around 6:30 a.m. I had the place all to myself. I got some writing done. Just clearing out the brain. I chatted with Austin again before he left for Island Mine. He’s green in some very cute ways. Rain tomorrow might block the eclipse and ruin our hike, but nothing to be done about that. (You may not have heard, but there was a solar eclipse on June 10, 2021. It was far more visible in Canada, Russia, and Asia, but if you were on one remote island at the top of America like I was, you may have been able to see it. Spoiler: It rained. No eclipse visible.)

Merganser ducks, mergansing at Siskiwit Bay in June 2021.

2:40 p.m. Around 10:30 this morning Dave and I had climbed out onto the jetty to go get water when a small boat came into the bay. Owned by the NPS, it was two trail maintenance guys here to clean up the camp. They’re great. A large fallen pine was firmly blocking the main trail to our campground, so when they walked through to inspect, I pointed them to it. Like two young lads, they were clearly gleeful to get to use the chainsaw. Our site is now dramatically bigger, with a new walkway.

The jetty on Siskiwit Bay.

The wind picked up on the lake, it’s cooler than yesterday. Nothing but clear blue skies with wispy white clouds. White caps in the bay. Even the trail guys don’t know what the weather will do, but everyone talks about rain tomorrow morning. Might be no eclipse for us if clouds happen.

The mouth of the Big Siskiwit River, which was overrun by swallowtails.

We walked down to the beach to the mouth of the Big Siskiwit River. Dave picked up many rocks. I’m packing out someone’s Mountain Dew can. 🙁

The Big Siskiwit River. The trail is washed out here because beavers have redecorated. The park service advises you to walk on the beach instead.

Sitting on the beach while the crew chainsawed our site, a wild fox appeared at the lake! First, he just came in for a drink and slunk back into the weeds. We were gleeful.

This fox wasn’t as sly as he thought he was.

A moment later, he appeared again on the other side of us, and he came so close! I think he hoped we had food for him (sorry, buddy!) he made the same face my dog does when she wants something.

That is the same face my dog makes when she wants me to throw the tennis ball. THE SAME FACE.

I feel really smart and rewarded for keeping my food about six feet up a pine tree. It’s safe from foxes up there, and the shade is keeping it cooler than the air is.

Food security matters so much on Isle Royale because of those tricky foxes and squirrels. The added bonus I got, was by keeping my food in a shaded pine tree, my snacks (and cheese) were kept at least 15 or 20 degrees cooler than the air.

We’re running low on provisions but won’t starve before our resupply in Windigo in 2 days. No snacks today, just rest.

He tried sneaking up on us from four separate directions. These foxes are sly.

8:40 p.m. – tent away from bugs

Our foxy friend got close in camp during dinner. He came sniffing around as we were cooking chicken and vegetables. We had to get up and shoo him away four times before he got the hint. No food here, sorry buddy.

But, like, also clearly just a dog sniffing smells. It’s weird.

As I was getting ready to hit the trail this morning, I stepped out of the tent into the pouring rain to visit the latrine. I turned a corner and came within 10 feet of an adult cow moose. She stared at me, determined I was neither food nor wolf, and moved on. I remained frozen in place the whole time. (I have no photos of this, sorry, I was terrified and it was raining.)

The sun sets at around 9 p.m. on Isle Royale in June. It ends up feeling like perpetual daylight, but it does wonders for your circadian rhythms.

We are running low on provisions. Nilla wafers have been promoted to breakfast food and granola rations have been halved. Cut into the parmesan – a delight! Looking forward to reprovisioning in Windigo. I’m gathering quite the shopping list. We learned a lot about fueling Dave on the go yesterday. Long hikes mean he needs constant refueling. He’s taken all the Popeye’s Chicken honey packets.

No notable new people except for the maintenance guys. One called Island Mine “so beautiful” and the other has huge gauged out earlobes and a former career as a merchant marine.

Click here to read Isle Royale Trip Report: Part II – Island Mine and Windigo

Click here to read Isle Royale Trip Report: Part III – South Lake Desor to Malone Bay

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Dave skipping rocks on Feldtmann Lake.
Splish.

Isle Royale Trip Report: Part II – Island Mine and Windigo

June 10 – Island Mine Site #2 1 p.m.

You’re not supposed to take the rocks you find, so I took a picture of this smiling guy instead.

The eclipse was a bust. Thunderstorms rolled in around 4 a.m. we so didn’t get to see it at all. We waited in the tent for the worst of the storm to pass and got on the trail by 7 a.m. The rain didn’t really stop the whole way.

The beaver redecorating on the trail from Siskiwit Bay to Island Mine was extensive. They put a creek right through the trail. NPS advised us to walk on the beach itself to the point where the ascent begins, so we did that. I understand a cloud of mosquitoes were following me the whole way.

Updated NPS advice for the trail between Siskiwit Bay and Island Mine. They advise taking the beach, and since the beavers’ have relocated a marsh to the middle of the trail, that was the way to go.

We rolled into camp around 9 or 9:30, chit chatted with some (damp) hikers who were trying to wait out the rain. Then we set up the tent and crawled into our sleeping bags and snoozed the rest of the morning. Island Mine camp is just a small ridge in the woods. If maple trees make you swoon, this is the place for you. We could make a fire, but everything is so wet we won’t bother.

Campsite #2 at Island Mine. Campfires are allowed (downed wood only) but it is also Bugs’ Town.

I hung a line for our wettest things to drip dry. If the sun comes out and heats them up, great. I am not counting on it beating the humidity or canopy drips. Better than nothing, for sure. I am glad I wore the slightly damp socks on the trail today. I have one dry hiking pair left. (Pro tip: Keep a dry pair of socks in your sleeping bag and put them both in a dry bag.)

We’re in the tent all day, probably. So. Many. Bugs. No worries about finding water in the creek though. Windigo tomorrow, resupply box, clean hands, and one cold beer.

Fun fact: Antler sheds are commonly found by signage at campgrounds at Isle Royale. This gives you and me, regular folks, the opportunity to pick up an antler and get to know it. Antlers are, however, a vital source of calcium for the forest creatures that need it. So, if you find an antler shed on Isle Royale, pick it up and check it out, just leave it where you found it.

The storms on F. Lake came in from the west and moved east. Today the storm came from the east and moved west. There’s not much exploring at Island Mine. We’ll be back in two days, but we may feel less rushed to get here. If your main task is dodging bugs, Island Mine is the place for you, my friend.

The creek by Island Mine campground. The park service cannot guarantee that water will be available here, but the flow was strong in June 2021. The water you pull from this creek will probably be light brown in color, because it’s full of tannins from decaying leaf vegetation. If you think about it, that’s kind of like drinking a tea made by the very forest itself, and it does have a weak tea flavor. Dave is convinced it cured his acid reflux.

5:10 update – This is Bugs’ Town. The water is easy to get to and – now, at least – abundant. The flow is strong. The water is full of tannins. Like drinking the very forest itself. The water filters through decaying vegetation and just kind of tastes like weak tea. Dave loves it.

Island Mine is about 5 miles west of Windigo, 5 miles east of Lake Desor, and about 4.5 miles north of Siskiwit Bay. It’s a good place to stop, but I would consider walking 5 extra miles not to camp at Bugs’ Town again. I bet it’s real nice early or late in the season, though.

7:45 – Two guys next door posted up around 3 p.m. clearly soaked. They hung up their tents and sleeping bags and then went about building a large fire. The temp is dropping. I hope they don’t get hypothermia.

When I say Island Mine is Bugs’ Town, what I mean is the businesses are bug businesses, the banks deal in bug money, the nightclubs play bug music, the mayor is a bug who ran on a pro-bug platform. Island Mine is a town for bugs, so prepare your spray and mosquito netting if you’re going to visit.

Friday, June 11 12:30 p.m. Site 13 Washington Creek

We got a shelter! We got up at dawn and were on the road to Windigo by 7 a.m.

The view from Site #13 at Washington Creek in Windigo. This shot was taken while it was actively downpouring. Rain in a tent is a mix of pluses and minuses, rain under a shelter is kind of nice.

We got here in time to see a ranger carrying our supply box up from the dock. It worked! We’re munching on the last of our cheese and Nilla wafers now.

The hike down was nice and easy and very wooded. The rain started around midnight and had let up by the time we got up. Trees spit on us most of the hike. We took the first available shelter we could find and hung our tent up to drip dry. It’s all covered in wet leaf litter.

This pretty damselfly hung out a good part of the day on the front of our shelter.

The weather is cooler today and foggy. The new tourists in Windigo looked soggy and sick. I guess we’re expecting this to continue for a few days. Ew. Dave has hung up absolutely every sock, bandana, shirt, and boxers he can.

A view of the pretty damselfly from the other side where you can see how green and iridescent she is.

We did a bit of commerce while we were in town. At the Windigo store we got a dry bag specifically for my sleeping bag. I had been storing it in the food’s dry bag during travel, and swapping back at camp, but that is done now. We also got banana chips to fuel Dave on the go, candy and Moon Pies, which we ate on the Visitor Center patio. In the Visitor Center we threw down on new wool socks, stickers, bandanas and a junior ranger book. We’re go back into town later and pick up a couple of beers.

Washington Creek is the place to be, if watching birds is your thing.

We’re spending the afternoon drying out in the shelter. I’m not sure how far we’ll go with all this humidity. I’m not expecting this to be a thing, but we are in the designated isolation shelter so if someone comes up with the ‘rona, we may get booted. Not really expecting that. We’re in no rush to get out of here tomorrow and back to Island Mine. The sun may come back after that, they say in Windigo. (This would be an absolutely terrible place to be in quarantine, by the way. Medical help is on the other side of a pretty big lake. It’s probably not a good idea to go to Isle Royale at all unless you’ve received your covid vaccine.)

I think there’s a law that you have to take a photo of someone holding a couple of antlers to their head next to the National Park welcome sign, so I am posting this here to avoid being fined.

Island Mine was so humid they only reason our clothes dried at all was because we hiked through the rain and maxed out our drying time. Another rain squall around 2:30 today, with some thunder. A few hikers walked by looking for a site but moved on. There is a nest of baby merganser ducklings right below our campsite. Little black and white poofers. Our tent is finally dry. Hoping to get the laundry try too.

These baby merganser ducks were nesting almost directly under our campsite in Windigo. If you find yourself at campsite #13 at Washington Creek, please take extra care not to bother these adorable little popcorn snacks. They’re very cute, but heavily predated.

8:30 – Great bird action on this site all evening. Lots of nesting ducklings. A duo of Canada geese parents came up by our campsite to feed their (11!) goslings just after our dinnertime. Dave and I sat motionless at our picnic table. The geese stared us down like two angry bouncers guarding a K-pop band at a frozen yogurt shop. Their goslings ran through and over the foliage, like a little gosling salad bar.

A couple of big, angry-looking Canada geese parents stared me down while they ensured their 11 goslings enjoyed the salad bar by my campsite. You ever see an angry bouncer stare at someone like they’re looking for a reason to kick that person out of the bar? That’s what these geese did, but at me.

A merganser duck swam by with 8 lil’ ducklings riding on her back.

A mama merganser carrying as many of the little popcorn snack mergansers on her back as she possibly could. The sight of this caught me so off guard that I went full-on white girl and could not even for quite some time afterwards.

Laundry drying nicely. We got to the shop too late for beers, so we drank the half liter of chardonnay in our resupply box instead. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Saturday June 12 6:15 a.m. Still Windigo

A foggy morning on Washington Creek.

A thunderstorm rolled in just after dark last night. The rain continued all night, but by now it’s calm. The skies are overcast, but there’s no wind. Most of our stuff is mostly dry and our rations are full again.

We’re going to have a long, foggy morning in Washington Harbor. We’re headed back to Island Mine next, so once we get there, we’ll (probably) be in the tent avoiding bugs again. The plan is to hike to Lake Desor at around 6 or 7 a.m. tomorrow, so we’ll have the whole day. Then we’ve got the long hike to Malone Bay the next morning, and all day.

The fog delayed the sea planes by 4 or 6 hours, so all the people planning to take the seaplane to Isle Royale had their trips cut a bit short. You should always plan for that to happen on Isle Royale, it could even delay your departure by a few days.

I felt extremely human after washing my hands with soap and fresh water.

I found this moth inside the latrine at Windigo and I thought the moth itself looked like a beautiful agate, so even the shitter moths are gorgeous here.

2:45 p.m. Site 2 Island Mine

The creek at Island Mine, but on a sunny day for a change.

No one else here so far.

As we were walking up the Greenstone today, maybe 3 miles or so west of Windigo, and about 100 feet ahead of us on the trail – we saw a young moose traveling at a full gallop through the thick forest. He ran perpendicular to the trail we were on, and I am grateful he wasn’t any closer. It was so quiet, even when all its hoofs hit the ground. How is it they do that? Silently? It was gone just as quickly as it came. This one was smaller than the cow I ran into at Siskiwit Bay. We’re having all the good animal encounters this trip.

What makes a moose gallop?

Just a bug enjoying a day at Bug Town.

I. Mine is still very much Bug’s Town. Grateful for head nets. The weather has improved. The sky above the canopy is crystal blue and the temp is nice.

This morning before we left Windigo, we returned to the Visitor’s Center with our completed application to be Junior Rangers. We were sworn in by Ranger Jenna, which was actually rad as fuck. There is no age limit on the Junior Ranger program, and Jenna was genuinely glad to do it for us. We give stickers and a really cool laser cut wood pin. We swore an oath to protect and defend Isle Royale’s wilderness and wildlife. I think we made the park rangers’ day.

A couple of bugs who have annexed my tent into the Bug Town city limits.

We ran into the Cold Dudes from Island Mine again before we left Windigo. I am glad to say they did not get hypothermia. One guy did melt his shoes a little trying to dry them out over the fire.

3:30 p.m. – Just shoo’d a squirrel out of the outhouse.

This is not the squirrel I shoo’d out of the outhouse. They look alike but probably don’t even know each other.

5:45 p.m. – A dinner of chicken and Knorr’s Spanish rice. Our dehydrated beef had gone bad so now we’re rationing chicken. Boo. Why does Knorr’s Spanish rice taste like a warm blanket on the trail, but back in real life it tastes like an insult to both Spain and rice? We’re saving mashed potatoes for after the long hike. We have enough noodles we won’t go hungry if the boat were delayed for bad weather.

Prepare for bugs at Island Mine, and get ready to drink some real tasty forest tea pulled right from the creek.

Two more parties came to the campground, including one loud Floridian who was not prepared for the mosquitoes. He said they were like “small cats.” He’s with a chipper lady who looks very prepared. She loaned him her headnet. The other is a quiet couple. One more camp cocktail and then we’ll start powering down, inside the tent, away from Bug Town. (A camp cocktail is what Dave and I call an 8 oz cup of water with a Nuun tablet in it. It’s less about having fun and more about replacing your electrolytes. Camp cocktails are very important.)

Camp cocktail, is just 8 oz of water with an electrolyte tablet in it. I once completed running a marathon, and realized when I got home that I couldn’t read words anymore. That’s because I was low on electrolytes. Electrolytes are so important, you’ve got to put them back.

7 p.m. – Bugs win, and I am now in my tent. The water bladder in my pack malfunctioned today, spilling about ½ l of water in my pack. Thankfully, everything critical was in a dry bag. The sun and wind refreshed all the laundry today. Hopefully, the weather stays like this. We hope to get on the road to S. Desor bright and early. Dave’s snoring did not wake me up once last night. I think the island improves our allergies.

Click here to read Isle Royale Trip Report: Part I – Voyageur II, Feldtmann Lake, and Siskiwit Bay

Click here to read Isle Royale Trip Report: Part III – South Lake Desor to Malone Bay

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This little lady is probably an ant queen nymph, so let’s think about that. She’s here, she’s just hatched, she’s still learning the ropes and now she’s got to go find a mate, then go off and found – and manage – an entire new ant colony. This girl has a lot on her shoulders. Remember #Queen that #SelfCare is important. We spotted her on the shores at Siskiwit Bay.

Trip Report: backpacking Forest Glen Nature Preserve May 2021

Recently a pal on Instagram pointed me in the direction of Forest Glen Nature Preserve in Vermilion County, Illinois. How this place had not already been on my radar is a mystery. I grew up in a house, on the top of a ridge, leading down to a crick, leading into a creek, leading into the Illinois River. Walking down steep embankments covered in layers of decaying leaves, underneath a complete canopy was as easy as walking a little too far off the deck. I felt absolutely at home at Forest Glen Nature Preserve, which traverses cricks, creeks, and ridges leading into the Vermilion River.

Forest Glen is located a little south of Danville, IL. Practically on the Indiana border. There’s plenty here for day hikers and RV tent campers to enjoy, but where this park really shines is its backpacking trail. Managed by Vemilion County Forest Preserve District Correct Name since 1966, this 11-mile backpacking loop is very rugged, but probably one of the most rewarding hikes in Illinois.

As a natural born flatlander when I heard this hike was “very rugged” I thought “okay, sure, maybe by prairie standards.” Past Lindsay was wrong. This hike is not easy. If you plant to hike it, you should be in good physical condition, prepared for frequent elevation changes, ready to recover from sliding down muddy embankments, and prepared to cross over creeks on a bridge that is just one narrow board. Oh, and there’s that vertical climb by the waterfall bridge.

The County requests that backpackers register a week in advance. The campground at East Camp is located 7.5 miles from the trailhead at Lorna K. Nosis Visitor Center. There are five sites in East Camp and during the good weather they will book up. I made my reservation about four days in advance by emailing the visitors office and asking nicely. Luckily, they had a spot available for me. We arrived on Friday, May 7, hiked to East Camp on Saturday and hiked out on Sunday during a torrential thunderstorm. That might explain why I could snag a campsite. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

If you go to Forest Glen to just enjoy the tent campground and do a few day hikes, you are in for a treat. This campground is beautiful, spacious, set back against a stunning ravine where white tail deer are easy to spot. There is a loading lot, with a 20-minute limit, but cars are asked to be parked further up the road. Water is available at a tap, near-ish the pit toilet, and the RVs are located out of sight and sound. For my money, it’s Site 11 all the way. Look at that view. It’s a tremendously peaceful spot. Every site has a fire ring and a picnic table.

Saturday morning we packed up camp, left our car at the visitor center parking lot, and hiked 7.5 miles to East Camp. The landscape first follows low-lying marshlands where you’ll easily see turtles sunning themselves on fallen logs, and an abundance of birds. Following the red and white blazes that mark the backpacking loop, you’ll eventually move west, and follow the ridges overlooking creek beds. The trails are well marked, and well maintained for the first day’s hike. There is a little bit of creek hopping, lush meadows, abundant wildflowers and relative protection from the sun when the canopy is leafed out. (Though, you should always guard against ticks by wearing a hat or bandana over your head.)

Group Camp is about halfway to East Camp, and it’s where we stopped for lunch in a sunny field. About two miles after that is where the trail finally meets the Vermilion River. This stunning spot features a sandstone outcropping with shale that resembles the pages of a book. Except it’s an ancient sea bed. It’s probably full of fossils, but as Forest Glen is a designated Illinois Nature Preserve its rocks are protected from me poking around in there to look for fossils. Probably you too, sorry. It’s the law. If possible, I think this would be a beautiful lunch spot, you just have to hold out for a few miles past Group Camp.

The trail follows the Vermilion River for quite a ways after that and it’s easily the most scenic part of the trail. It’s also where the endless flow of water over millennia tends to start flexing on us. There’s this bridge, just after a curve in the trail, after you see a rock outcropping in the river itself. To get to the bridge is a descent about six feet down a steep slope, and across a bridge over a waterfall. The sandstone here is magnificent. You will probably use the sandstone to help you climb up what is essentially a mud-and-rock ladder at the other side of the bridge. Straight up. No joke. I took it on hands and knees because I am not tall.

After that, you’re really just one big, steep climb away from East Camp. There’s a small stream at the base of this climb, but it isn’t too painful to set up camp, and then come fetch water. East Camp is nice, at the top of a ridge and relatively protected under a canopy of youngish trees. There is a pit toilet that some previous campers had not treated with respect prior to my arrival. I also hiked out quite a bit of their trash. I wish them nothing but wet socks for their next fifty hikes.

Site 3, where we stayed, was probably the flattest and most spacious. Site 1 on the edge of the ridge is probably the most private, but it can be windy. Sites 2 and 4 are closer together and 5 looked sloped. Each site has a picnic table and fire pit.

We rolled into bed at the standard backpacker time of 9 p.m. which is jut about when the storm started. I’ve camped in storms before, they don’t bother me. My stuff mostly stayed dry, and once you’re hiking in the rain there’s nothing else to do but hike in the rain. I find peace in that.

We started the hike out around 8:30 the next morning, when the rain had subsided a bit. The rain did not stop until well after I hiked out. Day 2 of that trail is about half the length, and twice as hard as Day 1 is. For sure. There’s much more ascending and descending, the trail is closer to the edge of a steep drop off at points, and the bridges get a little … scarier, in places.

Hiking out in the pouring rain made everything much harder. All that lovely sandstone and shale I admired on Day 1? Well that’s why we’ve got all this thick clay in the soil. That clay is a slip’n’slide after 12 hours of pouring rain. I fell more times than I care to admit, but thankfully landed mostly on my butt. There was one bridge where I took it as slow as I could, facing sideways, because a single-plank of old, worn wood, hanging at a slight angle, had about a 5 foot drop beneath it. If you’re going to visit Forest Glen on a rainy day, be prepared for the slipperiest mud I have ever encountered.

You know you’ve hit the home stretch when you get to the fields. On one side, a still active farm shows you what Illinois did with all those magnificent prairies. On your other side, is a young prairie in the midst of restoration. It’s full of birds, flowers, low lying grasses, and waterfowl.

This was my first visit to Forest Glen but there is absolutely no way it will be my last.

Trail recipes: Chicken and Spanish Rice

Maybe you’ve noticed this, but all food kind of just tastes extra amazing on the trail. Dave and I took a few days to go backpacking in the Shawnee National Forest last August. You can read about that here.

Hands down the best meal we had on that trip was also the easiest to make. Chicken and Spanish Rice. This carby-salty-protein-packed recipe makes enough for two people who have been hiking through heat and humidity of Southern Illinois in August and want to feel human again.

Trail meals are kind of funny because they are not something I would make at home. At home, I don’t use canned chicken. At home, I don’t usually make pre-packaged rice sides. I have the advantage of living in a neighborhood with tons of excellent Latin American food options, so if I want Spanish rice, I’m better off finding a great restaurant. But there are no restaurants in the wilderness.

This tastes like every comforting thing you ever enjoyed about sloppy joes, but made out of chicken and carbs and salt. Honestly, it’s great. Actual Spanish rice does not taste like sloppy joes, but in Knorr’s world, they’re practically the same thing.

My recipe also relies on buying canned chicken from Aldi. Would it work with another brand of canned chicken? Almost certainly. The can of chicken you buy at Aldi has a couple of distinct advantages. 1. A can is 8 oz. Which is easily enough for two people. And 2. It’s really good stuff. Tender, flavorful and it falls apart very easily. You can try to bring fresh chicken on the trail, but that’s your risk to run. Plus, that sounds hard to do. I wouldn’t advise it unless you like being stuck in the wilderness with salmonella poisoning.

Dave and I didn’t think we would actually finish the whole thing but we basically mowed the whole thing down and then passed out by 8:30 p.m. Camping is fun, you guys.

Recipe (serves two heavy portions):

1 package Knorr Fiesta Side Dish, Spanish Rice

1 8oz can chicken from Aldi

1 glug olive oil

  1. Prepare the Spanish rice according to package instructions. We use an Esbit stove and a Stanley pot for backpacking (review to come, I swear). We ended up needing about one and a half fuel cubes for the rice.
  2. While your rice rests, use the remaining fuel cube (or whatever you use) to warm through the canned chicken. You don’t want it to burn, you just want to heat it through.
  3. Portion out the Spanish rice.
  4. Portion out the chicken onto the Spanish rice.
  5. Stir to combine. The chicken should fall apart easily because Aldi is an amazing place with amazing products. (They aren’t paying me to say this, but I would also accept Aldi’s money to say this.)
  6. Eat until you didn’t realize you were hungry enough to eat the whole thing.