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TRIP REPORT (PART # 3 of 3). This was an Isle Royale canoe trip with my former college roommate (Joel). It was his 2nd trip to Isle Royale. My 18th trip. It was the first Isle Royale canoe trip for both of us. Part # 2 of the trip report ended with us preparing to depart from Daisy Farm on the morning of August 19th. THE PLAN was for us to paddle to Tookers Island and spend the night there and paddle the short distance to Rock Harbor the morning of August 20th and depart August 21st on the Voyager. Overall, the weather and skies were fine when we departed Daisy Farm on the morning of August 19th--but later, banks of fog rolled in (and rolled out)-- some of the fog was very thick. When we got in the general area of Three Mile Campground and "Suzy's Cave--the fog was particularly thick. One moment, we could see across the waters of Rock Harbor and look at Tookers Island. The next minute, the fog was too thick to see the Tookers Island. We pulled over onto shore to assess our situation and double check our maps and GPS. (We were on the Rock Harbor Trail side of the harbor--and Tookers Island was across the harbor. In the moments when the view was clear, we could see that NPS boats and private vessels were going up and down the harbor ... some at a good rate of speed and creating fairly good sized wakes. (Other times, we could only hear the boats--but not see them -- due to the fog). We ultimately decided that the fog, boats, and wakes created somewhat unsafe conditions to cross the harbor. If we couldn't see "big" boats and an entire island in the fog--how could boats see a small, low-riding, canoe (and avoid a collision)? Thus, we decided to press on to Rock Harbor (sticking near the Rock Harbor Trail side of the harbor--out of the lane of water traffic). Visibility continued to ebb back and forth between "O.K." and poor as we paddled toward Rock Harbor. One moment, you could identify Rock Harbor and even some of the boats docked there (like the Queen IV) off in the distance. The next moment, all of Rock Harbor could not be seen. (We even pulled out the GPS a couple of times to tell us our location in the thick fog). We finally landed safe and secure in Rock Harbor. We asked the ranger at the Welcome Center--if--in light of the fog keeping us from getting to Tookers Island, wild fires blocking part of the Tobin Harbor Trail, and the algae blooms impacting our earlier inland routes--could we perhaps stay TWO nights at Rock Harbor (instead of the posted one-night stay limit at Rock Harbor)--now that we were finally there and safely out of the fog. (The answer was a firm "No". Thus, our choices were to paddle, or hike, to Three Mile (via the Rock Harbor Trail) or portage and paddle to some of the watercraft campgrounds in Tobin Harbor or in Duncan Bay. We decided to ponder our decision over some burgers at the Greenstone Grill. We had met a nice family during our journey. We ran into them again at Rock Harbor. They heard of our "plight. They said they were leaving Rock Harbor late the next day. They said when we returned to Rock Harbor the next day, we could meet up with them and take over "their" shelter after they left. In the meantime, they also agreed to let us keep some of our gear in their shelter to lighten our load as we portaged over the hill to Duncan Bay. (THANK YOU!) We portaged from Rock Harbor over to the seaplane dock on Tobin Harbor. We paddled across Tobin Harbor and portaged over the hill to Duncan Bay. We paddled to the Duncan Bay campground and secured one of the two shelters. The other shelter had fishermen who returned later in the evening and offered us some of the fresh trout that they had just caught and were cooking up. (Thanks!). We spent a wonderful and peaceful afternoon, night, and part of the next morning, in the solitude of Duncan Bay. Other than the "often absent" fishermen, we were all alone at Duncan Bay Campground. In mid-morning, we reversed the previous day's canoe and portage route back to Rock Harbor. We met up with our new found friends. When they left their shelter, we placed our tag on it. We spent the rest of the day exploring Rock Harbor. We hiked out to Scoville Point and back. We had a pizza at the Greenstone Grill. We sorted and packed our gear for the trip home. The morning of August 21st, we boarded the Voyager II (with our gear and canoe). We spent the day sailing down the southern shore of Isle Royale to Windigo and then back across Lake Superior to Grand Portage. (An electronic device had been left plugged in inside of our vehicle and the vehicle battery was drained during our week on the Island--so we had to jump start the car before departing Grand Portage). For what it is worth, this was the only trip where I never saw any moose. I heard them--but never saw them. I spent the night of August 21st at the home of my former college roommate and Isle Royale canoe partner...and drove home to West Central Illinois on August 22nd.
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TRIP REPORT. PART # 2. This was a canoe trip with my former college roommate (Joel) from August 14-21, 2022. As noted in Part # 1 of the trip report, we had spent the night of August 16th at the Lake Richie Canoe Campground. Our PLAN for August 17th was to paddle across part of Lake Richie--portage to Intermediate Lake ---paddle across Intermediate Lake to the portage to Siskiwit Lake --then paddle a long distance on Siskiwit Lake to the portage for Malone Bay and spend the night at Malone Bay. However, (as I shared in a separate post) we found the portage from Lake Richie to Intermediate Lake "blocked". Thus, our plans changed. After failing to use the "blocked" portage to Intermediate Lake, we eventually paddled the other direction on Lake Richie and got out at the portage near the "regular" Lake Richie Campground--and portaged approximately 2.1 miles to Moskey Basin. On August 17th, we only portaged the canoe roughly 0.5 miles of he 2.1 mile portage. We then continued on to Moskey Basin with just our packs and spent the night there. We would go back the next morning for the canoe. (Why be in such a rush to carry everything all at once?). The shelters and individual tent sites at Moskey Basin were all full. Thus, we went to the overflow area in the group site. There were 12 of us who camped there by the end of the night. (Five different parties, in six tents and one hammock --with a tarp). We enjoyed people's company and took the time to relax a bit. It rained overnight. The next morning (August 18th), we went back to pick up the canoe. We brought it to Moskey Basin. We broke camp and easily canoed to Daisy Farm in approximately 50 minutes. We stopped to take a break at Daisy Farm. As we took our break, dark clouds approached and there was some rain. There was a forecast for possible thunderstorms. So, we decided to stay in a shelter at Daisy Farm the night of August 18th. Later in the day, the weather cleared. So we paddled across from Daisy Farm to the Edison Fishery and Rock Harbor Lighthouse. John Buckley (one of the summer caretakers there), invited us ashore. We took photos of the fishery and visited the lighthouse. Candy Peterson also showed up at the fishery and invited us to paddle next door and visit the "Moos-eum". Joel and I met both Rolf and Candy Peterson. They took turns showing us the "Moos-eum". (Rolf was busy in their cabin working on research project tasks and left most of the hospitality work to Candy). They talked to us about the Wolf-Moose project and other things. We then paddled back to Daisy Farm. We spend the night of August 18th at Daisy Farm. I got up early to watch (and photograph) the sunrise. Later in the morning of August 19th, we continued our paddling and portaging journey. (To be continued in a day or so with Part # 3). TRIP REPORT (PART # 1). This was my 18th trip to Isle Royale. It was a canoe trip with my college roommate from 40 years ago. It was his second trip to Isle Royale. It was our first canoe trip on the Island. On August 15th, we traveled from Grand Portage, MN to Windigo to McCargoe Cove (all via the Voyager II). Our canoe was transported on the Voyager. We spent the night at McCargoe Cove at Tent Site #1. The next day (August 16th), we portaged the canoe from McCargoe Cove to Lake Chickenbone. Canoed across Chickenbone. Portaged to Lake Livermore. Paddled across Lake Livermore to Lake LaSage. Paddled across Lake LaSage. Portaged to Lake Richie. Spent the night of August 16th at the Lake Richie Canoe Campground. We had it all to ourselves. THINGS TO NOTE: When we stepped off the Voyager at McCargoe Cove, Park staff reminded us of the confirmed blue-green algae bloom at Lake Richie and informed us of a SUSPECTED blue-green algae bloom at Lake Chickenbone. (Thank you Triggs!). Thus, both lakes were off limits as a source of drinking water. We spent the first night at McCargoe Cove because it was already early afternoon when we arrived at McCargoe Cove and we wanted to stay at McCargoe and enjoy it. After dinner, my trip partner (Joel) portaged the canoe to the junction where the trails to East/West Chickenbone and McCargoe Cove all meet. Thus, the canoe would already be portaged almost halfway to Lake Chickenbone. The next morning, we broke camp at McCargoe Cove, carried our packs to the above mentioned junction--then portaged the packs and canoe the rest of the way to Lake Chickenbone. The water at Chickenbone was gross. Algae and "gunk" were everywhere--even in the middle of the lake. On the the map--the portage between Chickenbone Lake and Lake Livermore is shown as a very short and straight 0.2 mile portage. In reality, the last part of the short, straight, portage (as it appears on the map) is covered with logs and fallen trees and is no longer the portage. The actual portage is probably closer to 0.5 miles (or longer) in length and has a couple of hills and turns. The water in Lake Livermore looked fine--as did the water in Lake LaSage. However, both ends of the portage at Lake LaSage (entering near Lake Livermore and exiting near Lake Richie) had lots of weeds and silt. This was especially true on the side of Lake LaSage closest to Lake Richie. I picked up some leeches on my feet and legs while wading in that "mucky" shoreline while landing and unloading the canoe at Lake LaSage. Thus, we opted to go back out into Lake LaSage with the canoe and draw our drinking water where there were less weeds, silt, and leeches. The water out there was clear and fine (and I didn't have to wade in "muck", silt, and various plant life). Once we entered Lake Richie, we paddled a short distance to the canoe campground at Lake Richie. We had it all to ourselves that night. (August 16th). (This trip report will be continued in a day or two--with "Part # 2") TRIP REPORT (Part 4 of 4). Day # 5 of Hiking. In Part Two, I told of Hiking Day # 1 & Hiking Day #2--and crossing the Island on the Greenstone Ridge Trail from Windigo to Rock Harbor on those two days. In Part Three, I spoke of hiking from Rock Harbor to N. Desor (via the Minong Ridge Trail)--on Hiking Day # 3 and # 4--and stopping at N. Desor on hiking day # 4--primarily because of approaching rain. (This was instead of hiking all of the way to Windigo late in the day in rough conditions and in approaching rain and eventual darkness.) I spent the night (of Hiking Day # 4) at N. Desor. It rained off and on for much of the night and into the afternoon of the next day. I started out hiking in the somewhat early morning hours (of Hiking Day # 5) from N. Desor toward Windigo. This was my fifth time hiking the entire Minong Ridge Trail. Thus, I knew that today would be a long 13.5 mile hike --on a trail that crossed at least three beaver dams, There would also be hiking on the ridge early in the day--and lots of ups and downs (from hills and ridges down into the woods and back up to the ridge) for much of the day. I disliked this particular day of hiking. It couldn't end soon enough (in my opinion). It was rainy, misty, hazy. Thus, there were no grand views to see. The rocky surfaces and the muddy areas were both very slippery....and they were a potential accident waiting to happen. I had to walk through wet, muddy, and rocky areas for much of the day. In short, it was a long, wet, miserable day, with no magnificent views--but with plenty of places to potentially slip, trip, or get injured. I just wanted to get to Windigo and be done hiking for this day--but that didn't happen until mid to late afternoon. There are no fast ways to hike this section in the rain (when you are age 60 and have eyeglasses with a "complex" prescription). You simply have to hike slow and carefully watch where you are placing each step. And, EVENTUALLY you will get to Windigo. Other than being wet, rainy and "miserable" for much of the day--a couple of other things stand out from this day. I saw a big "mattress bag"--with stuff in it--either abandoned or accidentally dropped on the Minong Ridge Trail. It was huge. I wonder what prompted someone to carry something that big. (See the photo). The other big "event" of the day .... I got "lost". (I wasn't fully lost. I always sort of knew where I was--in a general sense). I was following a trail. I could clearly see the trail--but IN RETROSPECT--I believe that I somehow got on a false trail in the rain. (I ran into at least four other parties who also got off of the official trail in this same general area. --near the first beaver dam--coming from the N. Desor toward Windigo). I started across what appeared to POSSIBLY be the first beaver dam area and quickly found myself bushwhacking through a swamp/bog. When i turned on the GPS on my phone--it showed that this false "trail" was about 1/8 of a mile away from where the actual Minong Ridge Trail was supposed to be. After exiting the swamp, I bushwhacked up and over a small ridge--following my GPS readings--and I easily rejoined the Minong Ridge Trail. I got to Windigo (safe, sound, but wet) late in the afternoon. It had been a long, wet, dreary, and hazy day of hiking. In five days of hiking (at age 60) I had backpacked from Windigo to RocK Harbor (via the Greenstone Ridge Trail) and from Rock Harbor back to Windigo--(via the Minong Ridge Trail). It had been roughly 85 miles of backpacking. I spent the next day and a half cleaning up me and my gear--and waiting for my boat back to the mainland (Voyager II). I also spent that time enjoying the people and sights of Windigo). TRIP REPORT PART 3 of 4. (Hiking Days # 3 and #4): I had crossed the Island (Windigo to Rock Harbor) on the Greenstone Ridge Trail on hiking days # 1, and #2. I woke up before dawn on Day # 3 in a shelter at the Rock Harbor Campground--with a goal of crossing the Island (Rock Harbor to Windigo) in two days using the Minong Ridge Trail. (It ended taking me a total of three days RH to Windigo--primarily due to rain). By the end of the day--I covered over 22 miles. The next day I covered 11.4 miles. (Note: This was my FIFTH TRIP covering the entire Minong Ridge Trail between McCargoe Cove and Windigo--and I have covered smaller sections of the Minong many other times. So, I am very familiar with this trail). I started this part of the hike at the Rock Harbor dock probably about a half-hour before dawn. In the attached photos, you will see a really neat looking moth that I encountered in Rock Harbor as I started my hike. (It was resting on a light). The first part of my route took me down the Tobin Harbor Trail to the Mount Franklin Junction (near three Mile Campground). Then, up to Mt. Franklin. The views along the trail were nice--but the hike itself was mostly calm and uneventful--except for me stirring up a resting or sleeping young bull moose on my way up to Mt. Franklin. He must have heard me approaching and he stood up with quite the rustle and crash of the surrounding foliage--and within several seconds he had galloped off into the woods. (This was moose # 4 on my trip--I had seen a bull and two cows at Rock Harbor). The views from Mt. Franklin were nice (as is usually the case). I am the pastor of a small rural congregation and I belong to Protestant monastic group as well. We devote much of our time to prayer. For some reason, Isle Royale has become my "special" spiritual place for prayer and getting close to God--and Mt. Franklin is my EXTRA special place for prayer and meditation on all of Isle Royale. On at least two occasions, I have even privately celebrated the Lord's Supper (communion) on the rocks at Mt. Franklin. Today, because of my planned high mileage day, I just enjoyed the views on Mt. Franklin and did brief mid-morning prayer--then it was time to move on. The next stop was Mt. Ojibway and the fire tower there. For some reason, this section of the hike seemed to take "forever". Even once I saw the fire tower in the distance, it seemed like it took me quite a while to get there. I finally reached the Mt. Ojibway fire tower. I took off my pack and rested for a while--I drank a lot of water and had a snack--and spent my time climbing the fire tower and enjoying the views. (Unlike many people, I personally refuse to take my cellphone off of airplane mode and check for cell service at Mt. Franklin or Mt. Ojibway. I come to Isle Royale to cut myself off from the outside world. I use my phone for GPS, as a camera, and maybe for some occasional reading material. I never check for a cell signal). After Mt. Ojibway, It was a long walk toward East Chickenbone--and then on toward McCargoe Cove. There were some good views along the early portions of this segment. However, there is not much to report--with one MAJOR exception. As I was crossing a bridge/boardwalk between East Chickenbone and McCargoe Cove--I saw a cow moose and her calf in the water. I have encountered hundreds of moose in the wild and know how to respectfully keep my distance. It seemed as if the cow and calf were far enough away--enjoying a meal of water foliage in the beaver pond. They were looking away from me and paying no attention to me. AND, part of the boardwalk/bridge was located BEHIND a tall beaver dam and dwelling. So, I started out across the bridge/boardwalk. Mama and baby seemed to pay me no attention as I slowly made my way across the planks. As I passed BEHIND the beaver dam/dwelling--I even heard mom and calf quickly trotting away. All the better! Well, Mom and baby HADN'T walked away. In those few very brief seconds (when I was behind the beaver dam/dwelling), they had walked CLOSER to the beaver dam/dwelling. As I emerged from the other side, I was now probably no more than 20 feet away from mama (in her new location) and she was looking right at me and was apparently startled by seeing me so close. She did not "attack"--but she certainly did go into defensive / protective mama mode. I hustled the final feet off of that boardwalk (even stepping in muck) and quickly got a cluster of trees between me and mom. She was definitely snorting and pacing back and forth looking for me and making her presence known. She soon called out to baby--baby responded--and mom wandered off back to her baby. (After she walked away, I figuratively changed my Depend undergarments and walked away myself when I thought all was clear and safe). I made it to McCargoe Cove. I rested. I ate some food. Refilled water containers. Chatted with delightful people. After maybe an hour-and-a-half, I headed out again toward Todd Harbor. Once again, the second half of this particular segment seemed to take an eternity. I seemed to be "close" to Todd Harbor--but the walk took forever. I got to Todd Harbor as the sun was setting. I sat down with wonderful people at the "community" picnic table near the group fire ring and chatted and ate. (I had covered over 22 miles today). After everyone else left the picnic table area, it was now "late" and dark--so in the interest of being quiet, I just "cowboy camped" --under the stars--right on the picnic table. I didn't go to a campsite and set up camp. The next day, I woke up long before down. I placed the few items that I had taken out of my pack--back into my pack. I filled my water containers in the lake.(after filtering the water) and got on my way while it was still a bit dark. Today's route had two parts (Todd Harbor to Little Todd and Little Todd to North Desor.) I even had the hope of possibly going on to Windigo if I covered this section fast enough. I ultimately stopped at N. Desor around 2 p.m.--for the sake of safety--because I was a bit tired and hungry. I needed to refill my water containers--and it looked like rain. (And rain did start--maybe a half hour or so after I got to N. Lake Desor Campground). Not a whole lot to report fro this particular day. It is just a lot of difficult walking. Some stream crossings. (See the picture of the twisted log that I used as a bridge--as I approached Little Todd.). The terrain in this section is often rocky and rugged (and hot and dehydrating) up on the ridge. Then, the trail drops back down into thick and overgrown trails in the woods--and sometimes swamps--then back up to the hot, rocky, ridge and then back down into the woods and swamps (repeat again and again--all day). This is the slowest and (arguably) "toughest" segment on all of isle Royale. It took me (the world's slowest hiker) probably 8-9 hours to cover the 11.4 miles from Todd Harbor to N. Desor. As noted above, I reached N. Desor in mid-afternoon ...and I decided to stop for the day--for many reasons--the biggest of which being the distinct possibility of lots of rain approaching. Shortly after I finished setting up my "tent" (Gatewood Cape--a combination of rain gear and shelter)--the rains started and continued off and on through the afternoon of the next day). I am glad that I stopped for the day at N. Desor. The next 13.5 miles to Windigo-- were tough and slippery in the rain and broad daylight of the next--even after a night's rest and eating lots of food. They would have been extremely dangerous if I was fatigued and if darkness was eventually approaching. TRIP REPORT--Part 2 of 4. (Day # 1 and Day # 2 of my 2022 Hiking Trip): I am "proud" to perhaps be the world's slowest hiker. Although I hike EXTREMELY slow--I have no problem hiking very long hiking days. So, that means than I can still cover "long" distances in a single (VERY LONG) day. I have a goal of (in my 60s) hiking across the Island (Windigo to Rock Harbor) in a single day--with a full pack. I have had that goal since 2009. I finally made the attempt this year--at age 60--but (for a variety of reasons) I fell short. I made it only to Daisy Farm from Windigo in a single day (34 miles). I will try again in future years. However, the key thing is that I had a good time with the attempt. The thing that was the most interesting aspect of the attempt, was the fact that I started my hike (using a headlamp) at 1:30 a.m. and hiked through the night. I was hiking in the dark until I caught the first rays of the sun from the Mt. Desor area. I wouldn't recommend solo night hikes (on isle Royale) for most people. However, this particular section of trail (Windigo to S. Desor) is fairly easy to follow. It is relatively smooth with limited trip hazards. I have hiked all (or most) of this section of trail probably 10 times before. I also had my phone's GPS running. Solo night hiking on Isle Royale is extremely serene and peaceful. There are almost zero human-made noises or lights during the overnight hours. Sometimes, I turned my headlamp off--stood still--and just tried to "take it all in". It was exhilarating. It felt like I had Isle Royale all to myself. I heard only a little bit of animal movement overnight (perhaps a wolf in the general Island Mine area). However, I did hear many other types of animal sounds (especially various birds). Most of the time, my mind was focused on "(Oh cool!) I'm all alone in the middle of the night on Isle Royale!". However, I must admit, that there were a few times when my overactive imagination caused me to think, "(Oh CRAP!) I'm all alone in the middle of the night on Isle Royale!". As I approached South Lake Desor Campground --and was in the general Mount Desor area-- I started to see orange and gold shafts of sunlight poking through the darkness and the trees. For approximately an hour (or more) before dawn, the singing and chirping of the birds started slowly and softly and eventually reached a fairly loud level of activity. It was fun watching (and listening to) the woods transition from darkness to full daylight. I don't think that I encountered any humans until I reached the general area of the Ishpeming fire tower. It had been a tremendous night and early morning of solitude hiking on Isle Royale. I continued Day # 1 of my hike as the day unfolded. I hiked past Hatchet Lake junction. I gathered water at a creek past Hatchet Lake (previously marked by me on my GPS on an earlier trip). I continued on past Lake Chickenbone--and continued on the Greenstone Ridge until late evening--when I decided to bring my attempt (to cross the Island in one day) to an early close. (I was having some minor equipment and physical issues and I refused to take any unnecessary risks). So, I slowly dropped down off of the Greenstone Ridge--and came to Daisy Farm as the shadows started to fall. I spent the night at Daisy Farm. I went to Rock Harbor the next morning. I spent the day at Rock Harbor "resetting" and recharging myself and my electronic devices. The next morning, i set out from Rock Harbor-- just before dawn--with the goal of crossing the island (via the Minong Ridge Trail) in just two days at age 60. (It actually took me three days to travel from Rock Harbor to Windigo via the Minong-- primarily because of rain and slippery trail conditions). TRIP REPORT: Part 1 of 4. I am still on the way back home after my most recent trip to Isle Royale. Here is the summary: Day #1: Took Voyager II (Grand Portage MN to Windigo). Spent night at Windigo. Day #2: Rainy, stormy, day. Stayed hunkered down in a shelter at Windigo. Day # 3: My goal was to hike from the Windigo dock to the Rock Harbor dock (41 to 42 miles) in just one day via the Greensone Ridge Trail (at age 60...and carrying a pack with all essential gear and 3 days of food). For many reasons, I only made it to Daisy Farm. (34 miles) Day # 4: Hiked Daisy Farm to Rock Harbor (7 miles). Day # 5: Rock Harbor to Todd Harbor (via McCargoe Cove) using the Minong Ridge Trail (roughly 22 miles) Day # 6: Todd Harbor to North Lake Desor. (10.7 miles) Day # 7: North Lake Desor to Windigo dock. Rainy. Foggy. Yucky day. About 13 miles). Day # 8: Hung out in Windigo Day # 9: Left Windigo via Voyager II to Grand Portage MN. TRIP REPORT (Part #5--The Final installment) RELIGIOUS AND SPIRITUAL ASPECTS OF MY TRIP: (Contains religious content). As some of you know, I am married (with two kids). My wife and children do not like the outdoors or backpacking. So, most of my Isle Royale trips are solo. I am also a Protestant pastor of a small rural congregation and I am also a part of a Protestant monastic order (but the members of our order lead our separate lives out in the "real world" --in various cities and states--and we do not live together in a monastery). My time alone on Isle Royale usually becomes a spiritual time of prayer and reflection. My 16-day trip to Isle Royale in 2021 was no different. My goal on my Isle Royale trips is to pray at least 6 times daily -- early morning, mid-morning, mid-day, mid-afternoon, evening, and bedtime. I also pray at other random times during the day and night. My early morning, evening, and bedtime prayers tend to follow written prayers and "formal" liturgies. The rest of my praying is done in a more "free-style" manner --praying whatever comes to my mind and it often transitions into a time of quiet reflection and meditation. I was ill in the early days of my 2021 Isle Royale trip. That illness caused me to re-evaluate my itinerary and the goals for my trip. My logical mind--and my inner spirit (and God)--seemed to be nudging me to switch to a lower-mileage and more restful and relaxing trip. However, my stubborn mind and my stubborn will still wanted to hike many more miles and see more places on the Island. On Day # 4 (my third full day of the trip)--I resumed hiking (after a couple days break at Todd Harbor to rehydrate and recuperate from a stomach bug). I departed Todd Harbor and walked in the general direction of Little Todd Harbor. When I reached the junction to Hatchet Lake--I had a tough choice to make. Going straight put me on the pathway to Little Todd Harbor--and a long trip crossing the Island in both directions. Going to Hatchet Lake put me on the pathway to a shorter, more restful, trip on only the Eastern half of the Island. I was pretty sure that God was probably pushing me to the shorter and more restful trip--but I personally still wanted the big trip. So, I decided to leave it up to God ... and to "chance". I got out a package of fruit snacks--and decided that I would flip it like a coin toss. If it landed with the front label "up"--it meant to go to Hatchet Lake. If it landed with the ingredients side up--I would go to Little Todd Harbor. I prayed for a couple of minutes--and then I tossed the bag of fruit snacks high into the air. It landed with the main label up (Hatchet Lake). Being stubborn, I then told God "Best out of three". I tossed the fruit snacks high into the air --and for the second time--it landed with the main label up. So, I reluctantly went to Hatchet Lake and toward the more restful trip. I was a bit unhappy about the decision. As I hiked toward Hatchet Lake, I "complained" to God that I didn't have enough food for that many days without resupply. (In my original plan, I was supposed to buy more food in Windigo for portions of the second part of the trip). Yet, deep in my spirit, God was saying to me... "Don't worry--I will provide you with enough food. I will make your own provisions stretch and people will feed you along the way. Trust me!" (And, in the coming days, people did indeed offer me food--without me asking). I complained to God as I walked to Hatchet Lake and as I prayed while walking. I said, "But, God, I want to do the big trip and see more places". God replied, (in a spiritual way and not an audible voice)-- "You need to get more rest and you need more time to reflect and pray". I complained to God, "But, there are people and things that I want to see by going on that bigger trip". God replied, "But the people that I want and need you to see are only to be found by going this new way--toward Hatchet Lake". So, I went toward Hatchet Lake and the shorter overall hiking distance and a more restful trip. (See my prior trip report about napping ). It was weird. God DID provide food in interesting ways. I organize and pack my morning and daytime food (and not my evening meals) in ziplock bags. One ziplock bag per day. As I repacked my entire backpack a couple days later at Lake Richie--I found that I suddenly had one more day of food than I recall putting in my backpack at home--or that I had counted when doing an inventory at Todd Harbor on Day # 3 of the trip. I also seemed to become full more quickly on this trip. So, I started having leftovers every day. The food "stretched". As I hiked-- and as I talked to people when on breaks--people would sometimes pass their bag of snacks to me as they said something along these lines: "Would you like some of this? I brought more stuff than I should have and I need to get rid of it". A group at Chippewa Harbor offered me (and others) all of the freshly caught trout that we could possibly eat. At Moskey Basin, a family invited me over to their shelter for the evening meal. When God nudged me to change plans and do the more restful hike, I didn't have enough food in my backpack for the whole trip--without doing resupply. Yet, without going to Windigo or Rock Harbor to do a resupply, I somehow came home with a full day's worth of "extra" food. Go figure. As I noted above, as I grumbled and complained to God (as I reluctantly hiked to Hatchet Lake) --God "informed" me that there were people that God wanted me to see along the new route. As I "heard" this, I simply figured that there were people that God wanted me to minister to along this new (and more restful) route. I was in for another surprise. God pretty much did not put any people in my path for me to minister to on this Isle Royale trip. (This was a big departure from my other Isle Royale trips, when I would somehow end up meeting every addict on Isle Royale, and meet several military persons with PTSD on each trip (I am a former military chaplain). I would usually encounter persons with health problems wanting prayer, or people with big religious and spiritual questions, or grieving people, etc). That didn't happen on this trip. This trip--God sent people to minister TO ME. Other people said things to me that I really needed to hear. People mentioned Bible verses (and things from other religions) that were related to the things with which I was personally wrestling. People mentioned things that they were doing at their own churches (during the pandemic)--that I could "borrow" and implement at my church. Two people even prayed with me and for me. The people that God wanted me to encounter on this revised itinerary--were placed there in order to minister TO me (and not for me to minister to them). The three main spiritual themes for this trip became: 1) Remember, that everyone needs to rest--even Jon Prain. 2) God can--and does-- provide everything that we need. So, trust God more. 3) God can (and does) send people and situations that will help us "refill our (spiritual) fuel tank" and "recharge our (spiritual) batteries". (IF we are open to that happening) A couple of more points. Doing this more restful itinerary--with longer stays at various places--allowed me more time to go to lonely places (and awe-inspiring places) to pray. Many mornings, my morning prayer time happened before and during the time when I got up to watch the sunrise. (Then, I would go back to bed and sleep and rest). Mid-afternoon prayers were often done at some scenic overlook --or a lonely place out in the woods---or while staring out over a lake. I also had more time to do some journaling. I am going to include some random pictures from spots where I prayed on the trip. Some will be new pictures--others will be photos that I previously posted in recent days. I am not going to label them or give locations. I invite you to just look at them...and enjoy. This will be my last trip report for this trip--but maybe I will post a few more photos or videos as time permits. I will close this...with a couple of things from the "formal" morning prayers that I do while on the Island. (I borrow this stuff from the Northumbria monastic community in the United Kingdom). Two of the lines from the morning prayer time include these words: "Be in the heart of each to whom I speak; [And], in the mouth of each who speaks unto me." Each day, my morning prayer time ended with this blessing. (Again, from the Northumbria Community): "May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you, wherever He may send you. May He guide you through the wilderness, protect you through the storm. May He bring you home rejoicing at the wonders He has shown you. May He bring you home rejoicing once again into our doors." TRIP REPORT (Part # 4). THIS TRIP WAS MORE ABOUT "THE PEOPLE". (Warning: This is mostly just long, rambling, thoughts and recollections) In my 15 trips to Isle Royale, I have met some wonderful people. Some of them have now been my friends for a decade (or more). We have taken other hiking trips together--both on Isle Royale and elsewhere. I have officiated at one Isle Royale wedding (on the Windigo dock in 2018). I have kept in touch as folks (from previous trips) as they have had children and grandchildren --and as others have reached retirement age or encountered times of illnesses. With my super slow hiking pace in 2021 -- and with me staying at some places for 2-3 days this year --people were an even greater part of my 2021 trip than on most of my previous trips. Some of my 2021 encounters lasted for just a few seconds as we passed each other on the trail--other interactions were part of hours and days of encounters on the Island. (There were even some online discussions and comments after our return home). Whether the encounters were brief--or extended-- rest assured that they had an impact on my trip and my life. Let me be clear--not all encounters with my fellow humans on Isle Royale in 2021 were magical. I encountered several people who were violating park regulations and Leave No Trace practices. There were occasional instances of members of groups arguing amongst themselves. There were a few world champion "jerks" that I met. There were even a few people who caused me to wonder how they ever managed to get through a day of life without the assistance of a guardian, aide, and/or chaperone. HOWEVER, in general, an overwhelming percentage of my encounters with other humans on Isle Royale in 2021 were wonderful and memorable. I encountered all sorts of people on my trip--ranging from tiny young children to people in their 60s, 70s, and 80s. I encountered people from many different racial-ethnic backgrounds and from various socio-economic experiences. (But, I must confess that backpacking, paddling, and boating are still activities that are still disproportionately done by persons of European heritage and of middle to higher income levels. I hope that situation will one day change). I encountered people from all along the political and social activism spectrum. There were individuals from a wide variety of gender identifications and sexual orientations. People tended to interact nicely with each other and get along well with each other....even if they were "different" from each other in some notable ways. I wish that we could bring more of those Isle Royale interpersonal experiences to our daily lives on the mainland. Daily life on the Island tends to be a great unifier and "leveler". CEOs and unemployed persons--4 year-olds and 80 year-olds -- Democrats and Republicans-- LGBTQIA+ persons and "straight" persons -- all use the same outhouses. All have to pack in their water (or filter it) when they are on the Island. All individuals have to get from Point A to Point B--and all have to find a place to stay. (They all encounter the same outhouse spiders as well). We end up sharing many common experiences together when we are on Isle Royale. We become a bit of a "community". I had some great discussions and interactions on each of the 16 days that I was on the Island in 2021. I can't possibly list them all here. Some of my more "unique" 2021 discussions included listening to a three-year-old explain the finer points and nuances of throwing rocks, sand, and sticks in the water (on one end of the continuum)--and discussing people's Ph.D. dissertations (on the other end of the continuum). There were discussions of people's past outdoor hiking and paddling trips -- from short trips in local parks to trips to the Himalayas, Europe, the Appalachian Trail, Yukon River, Pacific Crest Trail, Grand Canyon, Yellowstone, Superior Hiking Trail, North Country Trail--and so many others. There were discussions with engineers, bankers, lawyers, doctors, teachers, and nurses. There were also discussions with unemployed persons, retired persons, persons in the service industries, college students, factory workers, farmers, retail store workers, restaurant workers, and self-employed people. I met people who were enjoying their first trip to the Island--all the way up to someone on their 33rd trip to Isle Royale. People talked about life, health, joys, sorrows, illnesses, birthdays, anniversaries, religion, science, hopes, and fears. People discussed "what's for dinner", which outhouse to use (and which to avoid), moose and wolf sightings--as well as talking about seeing beavers, foxes, squirrels (and other critters). We talked about trail conditions, blue-green algae, COVID-19, wildfires, fishing, retirement issues, and job issues. I also had some intense discussions with young people regarding their favorite (and least favorite) subjects in school--and the impending starting dates for the new school year. I accepted two very wonderful dinner invitations. The food was five-star and received an A++++ rating. A Scout group filtered my water for me one day on the trail. People shared snacks--both in camp and along the trail. (I discovered that I have a liking for "Mango Chips"). People offered to share beer, wine, and other alcoholic beverages with me...but I have been in recovery for 40 years and chose to decline those generous offers. (Thank you very much, --everyone-- for sharing food, water snacks, your wisdom--and other things). Other highlights include the "rock" concert and sing-along--held on the rocks at Chippewa Harbor. I found great joy in watching a small group of friends (many of whom had attended an Ivy League school together)--prepare and consume their coffee, tea, and breakfast on the dock at Daisy Farm (on a chilly morning) as they watched the sunrise. There was joy in both seeing and hearing the enthusiasm of children as they showed me their walking sticks, whittling projects, "hiding places" and "forts", and their "Junior Ranger" items. I spent nearly 10 minutes intently listening to a two-year-old--(who was still learning to talk)--as he enthusiastically described things to me. I only understood about a quarter of his words--but his intensity, enthusiasm, and animated nature were captivating as he told his Isle Royale stories. I think that I was most impressed by the people in their 20s and 30s--and by the elementary school students and teenagers. Their joy (and lack of cynicism) was refreshing. It was also great to see these younger generations getting outdoors in the wilderness. They had/have a joy for living that many of us lose as we get "older". Something that was also rather "interesting" this year was my somewhat lack of anonymity. Because I spend FAR TOO MUCH time posting and responding to things on this Facebook forum -- some people recognized me when I was on Isle Royale. I had perfect strangers call me by name. I had people come up to me and ask "are you 'Jon'?" A few people asked me to pose for selfies. Some individuals asked me for advice regarding their current trip. Others just had long discussions with me--like old friends. (Because it seemed like we "knew" each other "forever"--due to seeing each other on Facebook). To everyone that I encountered on this trip--whether it was for a few moments or a few days--I thank you for the experience. It was (and is) greatly appreciated. The people were my favorite part of this year's Isle Royale trip. Who knows, maybe some of the people (that I met this year) will still be a part of my life a decade from now--just like some of the people from my earlier trips. Again, to all the people that I encountered on my trip --thanks! I am attaching a bunch of random photos from this trip--the majority of them will have people somewhere in the photo. I am not going to label most of the photos with more than a few words. (In a day or two, I will post my final trip report regarding my 2021 isle Royale trip). TRIP REPORT 2021 (Part # 3): "THE ART OF THE NAP". For many people, (including myself), a typical Isle Royale day looks something like this: 1) Wake up. 2) Eat food and hydrate. 3) Pack up the stuff at the shelter or campsite. 4) Hike or paddle until late afternoon or early evening. 5) Set up camp. Get water. Cook a meal. 6) Go to sleep. 7) Repeat the same thing tomorrow (and the day after that--and the day after that). I had every intention of following that pattern for my 2021 sixteen-day hiking trip to Isle Royale. I planned to hike about 150+ total miles and see every trail accessible campground on the Island in one trip. (This was my 15th trip to Isle Royale). There were many planned 10 to 16 mile hiking days. HOWEVER, I experienced some significant gastro-intestinal problems on my first full day on the Island (and some symptoms lasted a least a week). So, I changed my plans and hiked only about 40 total miles in 16 days. My typical hiking day was just 4-6 miles in length. At four of the campgrounds, I spent 2-3 nights instead of just one. On many hiking days, I was in camp by late morning or early afternoon. Thus, on this trip, I perfected -- "The Art of the Nap". I also became much more skilled at just "hanging out" and "relaxing". I would invite others to also consider perfecting these wonderful (but seldom utilized) skills. In 2021, utilizing these skills was essentially forced upon me. I felt very ill on my first full day of Isle Royale backpacking in 2021 (The second day of my trip). It took me nearly 9.5 hours to hike the 6.7 miles from McCargoe Cove to Todd Harbor. I was losing bodily fluids in a significant manner (due to my gastro-intestinal challenges). Almost anytime that I sat down to take a break--I ultimately would fall asleep and take an unplanned nap. I probably took about 5-6 unplanned short naps on that first full day (Day # 2 of this year's trip). I made it to Todd Harbor in the late afternoon or early evening, and I felt a bit better than I had felt while on the trail. However, I decided to stay an extra day at Todd Harbor in order to rest, recuperate, and rehydrate. The first night in Todd Harbor, I spent the night sleeping in my camping hammock. The next morning, I moved into a shelter at Todd Harbor. I also got in two naps (2-3 hours in length). I was starting to perfect the "Art of the Nap". It is also amazing how having occasional diarrhea can motivate you to stay close to camp and just "hang out" and "relax". While I DID take some small hikes around the greater Todd Harbor campground (and I did chat with some wonderful people)--I was usually no more than a few minutes away from an outhouse. (In case the diarrhea resumed). The next day, I hiked 4.1 miles to Hatchet Lake. I was there by about midday. I was set up early and had my water filtered. I got inside my camping hammock to test if I had it set up correctly and that it wouldn't slip or fall. I fell asleep during the hammock test--and experienced a couple-hour afternoon nap. Overall, I was starting to feel better, so I hung out and chatted with people a bit more today. For the third day in a row--I was napping, "hanging out", and relaxing. A pattern was developing. The next day, I hiked to West Chickenbone. It was approximately an 8-mile hike (my longest of the trip). It was hot. There were blue-green algae problems at Chickenbone (so I got water at a creek between Hatchet and Chicknbone). I took long breaks and chatted with people along the way--and as I filtered water. I got to West Chickenbone mid-evening. So, no nap happened on that day. The next day, I hiked to Lake Richie. I was there by early afternoon. I was set up fairly early. I chatted with groups and individuals. I took a brief nap--but mostly hung out and relaxed. The next day, I traveled to Chippewa Harbor for a two-day stay. (See Trip Report --Part # 2). I hung out and relaxed with lots of people. I took 2-3 naps. I next spent three wonderful days in a shelter at Moskey Basin. I pretty much relaxed for much of my time there. I chatted with many interesting people. I even accepted a dinner invitation from a wonderful family in the shelter next door. I got in 2-3 naps per day--except on day # 1 at Moskey. On Day # 1, I only had one nap. (After all, I did hike 6.2 miles that first day. I initially set up my hammock at a tent site--and then moved to a shelter and set up again when someone left their shelter in the late afternoon. I only had time for one nap on that first day! ) At Moskey Basin, it was so relaxing being in a shelter by the lakeshore (listening to the waves and wildlife) as I drifted in and out of sleep throughout the three days. I would get up early, watch the sunrise and then eat a light breakfast. I would then go back to sleep. I would get up a couple of hours later and have a second light breakfast or brunch (as I watched beavers and mergansers)--and then I would nap again. I would wander around and talk to people in the middle of the day--then nap once more in the middle or late afternoon. I was becoming a napping machine! Next, I spent two days at Daisy Farm. I had a shelter both nights. I chatted with lots of people at Daisy Farm. I hung out and relaxed for much of the two days. One day, I hiked to Mt. Ojibway. Yet, I managed to squeeze in one nap per day while at Daisy Farm. Napping was now a firmly entrenched habit! On Day # 14 of the trip (full day # 13), I hiked to Three Mile Campground. Once again, I had a shelter. It was a cold and windy day--with some light mist or light rain at times. What could be better on a cold, damp, and dreary day than getting all snug under a down quilt and sleeping for much of the mid to late afternoon? I had finally perfected "The Art of the Nap"! On Day 15 (full Day # 14), I hiked to Rock Harbor early in the morning and was in a Rock Harbor shelter by 8:55 a.m. I hung out and chatted with many people in my nearly 24 hours at Rock Harbor. I had not showered in 15 days. So, I purchased TWO shower tokens. I had the water set about as hot as it would go. So, I had a very HOT and relaxing 10-minute shower. I put on clean clothes and some very comfortable "camp shoes". I had THREE hot meals at the Greenstone Grill. (A great change from my 15 days of trail food). While at Rock Harbor, I had some of the best conversations of my trip. I didn't get a nap that day--but I was now earning my Ph.D. in relaxation and "hanging out". I left the Island the next morning. MORAL OF THE STORY: It is perfectly O.K. to not hike or paddle all day --every day when you are at Isle Royale. Napping, relaxing, and "hanging out" can be some really great Isle Royale pastimes. (Pastimes which are enjoyed by far too few visitors to the Island--because we typically want to stay awake, keep moving, and see as many things as we possibly can in our Isle Royale trips). Frankly, anyone can hike or paddle all day--every day. That is the easy part. It is much more difficult to force oneself to NOT travel all day -- and to just hang out, relax, and nap. I am glad that I perfected those skills at Isle Royale in August 2021. |
AuthorJon Prain ("The Isle Royale Guy"). I have been to Isle Royale 18 times. Archives
August 2022
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