Isle Royale National Park July 2016 | Introduction

This report is regarding day hiking out of Rock Harbor. For backpacking trip reports, go here for the eastern, Rock Harbor side and here for the western, Windigo side.

Stoll Trail at Dusk

Introduction

The first time I went to Isle Royale was in September 2009. It was the second backpacking trip my husband and I had ever taken, and it blew our minds and nearly destroyed our bodies. The eight days we spent on the eastern half of the island proved to be an unforgettable adventure. The experience was magical, and its memory has grown to mythic proportions over the years.

My second trip was in September 2013. By then we had been on several more backpacking trips (for Craig this included a solo, return trip to the island the year before), but Isle Royale still kicked our asses. We thought it would be a cool way to mark our tenth wedding anniversary, and we proceeded to put ourselves through several days of mostly grueling misery in celebration. Even though that trip was spent on the island’s more gentle western end, the cold, rain, and fog we encountered were formidable adversaries, making us earn every reward, whether it was a glimpse of wildlife, a beautiful campsite, or a few hours of warm sun.

I experienced surprising encounters with wolves on both trips—strokes of extraordinary luck, the significance of which is not lost on me, especially considering the island’s current wolf/moose predicament. I feel honored to have had those experiences; to this day they are among the most exciting moments I’ve known.

Left: Indian Portage Trail, September 2009.       Right: Siskiwit Bay Site #5, September 2013.

I returned to Isle Royale for a third visit this summer, solo this time when I found myself with some unexpected time off in late-July. In preparation, I thought it would be fun to re-read the trip report from my first trip, revisiting my thoughts and observations at the time. Though some of it is cringeworthy—the typos that slipped through despite obsessive proof-reading, the sharing of too much information at times, etc.—it was interesting to read my thoughts about what it would be like to do certain things from a perspective of having now done them. (Would I ever have the guts to go solo backpacking? Check! Would I ever travel by sea plane? Check!)

What stands out the most in that youthful report are the feelings I expressed about this little-known national park: “This hiking trip to Isle Royale National Park is the best vacation I have ever taken. It was at once beautiful and subtle, physically exhausting and mentally rewarding. A feeling of contentment settled over us while on Isle Royale and it lasted for several weeks after returning home...no other trip has managed to have that effect...Isle Royale left an impression on us that will not fade any time soon.”  I still feel that way, and I still think about that trip often.  As I would go on to state later in my 2013 Isle Royale trip report, that first trip set the bar very high for future adventures.

Unnamed stream draining Chickenbone Lake into McCargoe Cove

Unlike that first trip—meticulously planned months in advance after countless hours of research—this trip was spur-of-the-moment, planned over a few days. I had six days off, two of which would be spent driving to and from the Keweenaw Peninsula, leaving four days on the island. I spent a bit of time planning a hiking loop, trying to decide what my best options were for four days, but then I had an idea and decided to simplify things.

At the end of that first trip in 2009, we spent our last day at Rock Harbor waiting for the afternoon ferry back to the mainland. I took note of a few things that I would like to do in the Rock Harbor area if I ever found myself back there with time to bum around, even stating in the last entry of that report, “I could easily see myself going back and spending more time there.”  I decided that since this was going to be a short, solo venture, that’s what this trip should be about.

I abandoned the planning of a loop and instead explored the idea of staying in the Rock Harbor area and doing some long day hikes and canoeing. I wanted to take my time exploring, taking pictures, and wandering aimlessly.

The immediate Rock Harbor area near the main dock and visitor center has a small camp store and marina. The campground is west of the visitor center, a short distance down the Rock Harbor Trail. Just east of the visitor center is The Rock Harbor Lodge, a mid-century guest lodge with 60 rooms facing Lake Superior. It also has 20 cottages a short walk north through the woods, tucked in the trees facing Tobin Harbor and virtually hidden from anyone not deliberately seeking them out.

The Rock Harbor Lodge offers a few options to assist hikers and paddlers. A water taxi service is available to shuttle people, canoes, and kayaks out to some of the smaller islands within Isle Royale’s archipelago, and to more remote locations on the main island. For instance, a hiker with only a couple of days to spend on the island could take a water taxi to Chippewa Harbor, then hike back to Rock Harbor over a few days, thus covering a good stretch of trail on a one-way hike. Kayakers could get dropped off at Birch Island, spend a couple of days paddling and camping in the various coves and on small islands to the north, and eventually make their way to Duncan Bay to be picked up at the dock at a predetermined time. Another option, on certain days of the week the lodge’s sight-seeing boat, the Sandy, also doubles as a “water bus.” If empty seats are available, hikers can pay a small fee to hitch a ride, and the Sandy will drop them off at designated locations on its route. 

I reviewed the lodge’s website and called the office to discuss some of these options, and a plan began to take shape. I could split my time between exploring places I was interested in in the immediate area, like Scoville Point on foot, and Tobin Harbor by canoe, and some longer day hikes assisted by the water taxi service to get me out to more distant starting points, from which I could hike back.

On a whim while discussing the above options on the phone, I asked if any cottages were available, fully expecting the answer to be “no.”  To my surprise, one was open despite the short notice. I took this as a sign and spontaneously decided to integrate a few nights at one of these mysterious cottages into the mix. We had stumbled upon one of them on the last day of our 2009 trip while keeping tabs on a moose that was hanging around the area. At the time, we assumed it was park employee lodging, and we talked about how cool it would be to live there—another thing I could now investigate for myself.

As far as getting to the island, I opted to travel by sea plane out of Houghton in order to make the most of my limited time. Isle Royale Seaplanes (f/k/a Royale Air Service) confirmed they could fit me on one of their flights with just a few days’ notice. If I had more time, I would have loved to spend a day in Copper Harbor and take the ferry, the Isle Royale Queen. The journey by boat across Lake Superior is part of the full experience and helps one appreciate the island’s remoteness and the massive body of water that rules it.

The Ranger III travels between Houghton, Michigan and Rock Harbor, ferrying passengers, canoes, kayaks, and small boats.

The Isle Royale Queen IV passenger ferry travels from Copper Harbor, Michigan and can transport kayaks and canoes.

The Voyageur II brings passengers, canoes, and kayaks from Grand Portage, Minnesota to Windigo, then circumnavigates the island, providing transportation to and from other designated locations within the park.

The Isle Royale Sea Plane brings passengers from Houghton, Michigan to Rock Harbor (docking in Tobin Harbor) and Windigo (docking in Washington Harbor).

I had everything I needed for the trip, including food, as our basement has become a hub of camping gear, including a collection of various freeze-dried meals leftover from previous trips. Other than a few snack items picked up the night before I left, I gathered everything needed during a few trips to the basement gear shop and was ready in no time.

I had three main goals for this trip: 1) Hike to Scoville Point at either sunrise or sunset, 2) Hike up to Lookout Louise and see the notoriously great view, and 3) Spend time canoeing in Tobin Harbor.

(Spoiler alert: I more or less failed at all three. You can make plans, but the island sometimes has ideas of its own.)

I was ready Thursday morning for the 10-hour drive north to Houghton, but I hadn’t yet thought about where I would stay that night. I didn’t feel like staying in a motel, so I decided to look into camping options. McLain State Park, a large park on Lake Superior outside of Hancock, had one campsite left for that night according to the Michigan State Parks reservation system, which I was able to reserve. That settled, I left home at 9:15 am and headed north.

I crossed the Mackinac Bridge at 1:30 pm and stopped at Lehto’s for a pasty soon thereafter. I reached Munising just before 4:00 pm and headed west, driving through one of my favorite stretches in the U.P. The drive from Munising to Marquette on M-28 provides view after beautiful view of Lake Superior, with places to pull off here and there and take a break and wonder why on Earth I live in the Lower Peninsula. The sky was blue and clear, and I enjoyed the drive. My plane didn’t leave until 2:00 pm the following day, and I was in no rush. All I had to do was get to my campsite at McLain State Park and pitch a tent, preferably before dark.

I realized I forgot my watch, which I needed in order to set alarms so I didn’t miss important things like boats and planes while on the island without cell phone service. I stopped at Target in Marquette to buy a cheap watch for the trip. It was intensely hot; according to forecasts, the heat wave most of the country had been experiencing this summer was not going away anytime soon. I sincerely hoped it would not be as hot on Isle Royale as it was on the mainland. Lake Superior helps keep it cooler in the summer, but this heat wave was extreme, and I wondered what it was like up on the Greenstone Ridge in the sun.

I arrived in Houghton around 6:45 pm and attempted to stop at the Isle Royale Visitor Center. It was closed, and the docking area was secured behind a locked fence, preventing anyone from getting close to the Ranger III, the huge National Park Service boat that ferries the majority of visitors to Isle Royale. Since I couldn’t bum around the visitor center, I headed north across the Portage Lake Lift Bridge that connects the cities of Houghton and Hancock in the Keweenaw Peninsula. McLain State Park was packed, and the campground was completely full. I drove to my site, slowly navigating the one-lane dirt road as people ambled alongside of it, and kids on bikes wove all over the place. Not the type of place I would normally choose to camp at the height of summer vacation season, but it would serve its purpose for the night, and it was right on the Lake Superior shore, which helped.

There was a healthy combination of tents and trailers of various sizes and states of adornment indicative of their inhabitants’ lengths of stay. Providing lighting and mood around each home base was everything from classic camping lanterns to strings of festive lights to actual outdoor post lighting. I parked at my site and set up our Kelty Crestone 1 single-person tent, which I planned to use on Isle Royale. I hadn’t used this tent since 2011, and it was a lot smaller than I remembered. I could have brought our car-camping tent, but for one night I didn’t really need a bunch of extra space. All I planned to do was cook dinner, check out the beach at sunset, and go to sleep. A few people marveled at the small tent, which looked like a cocoon, and speculated about my level of hardcore-ness in low voices when they walked by.

Site 61 at McLain State Park

At sunset, I walked down to the beach to find it completely deserted despite the full campground. I stayed there for about an hour and did not see a single other person the whole time. I find this extremely weird; out of the 91 campsites, each probably containing a conservative average of 3 people given the number of families I observed, not a single person besides me wanted to visit the Lake Superior beach at sunset?

I prepared to go to bed and discovered that the valve on my Cocoon Hyperlight Air Core inflatable pillow had cracked, and the pillow no longer held air. This was a major bummer; however, before I left home I threw a few extra things in my car, one of which was my old Therm-a-rest camp pillow that I used to take backpacking before replacing it with the much smaller inflatable one. I brought it so I could have the luxury of two tiny pillows while car camping at this state park. Good thing I did, as I would have been without a pillow otherwise, and at this point—as all the supercool people in movies say—I’m far too old for that shit.

I crawled in the little tent to go to bed, nestling in the cocoon-like shelter to read by headlamp for a while. The weather here was beautiful, and it stayed a comfortable temperature all night. I fell asleep around midnight and slept well, waking up just a few times and hearing only the big lake’s surf.

To be continued in Part One: Houghton, the Flight to Isle Royale, and The Stoll Trail Incident.

Isle Royale National Park | Day Eight

Rock Harbor to Copper Harbor

A female moose with 2 young notices me

Visitors on Isle Royale can't simply wander into the Rock Harbor Dining Room willy nilly with unscheduled hunger. This is how civilized society breaks down. Meals are served during specific time intervals; therefore, it was necessary on day 8 to wake up early to meet the 7am-9am breakfast schedule. We are big fans of breakfast, and being early risers, this was not too difficult to accomplish. Still, I felt bad for those who woke at a more reasonable hour with dreams of eggs and hash browns still fresh in their minds, only to find they had missed this narrow opportunity.

Rock Harbor Lodge and Guest House viewed from the water

Still dark outside, we arrived promptly at 6:55 am and loitered outside the restaurant entrance like a couple of 15-year-olds waiting for Twilight tickets. It was very quiet and we appeared to be the only people awake in Rock Harbor, aside from those we could hear inside preparing to open.

While enjoying a breakfast of coffee and pancakes (no real maple syrup despite the fact that Isle Royale is technically in the U.P. and almost in Canada), we discussed how to spend our last day on the island. The 2:45 pm ferry was several hours away, giving us plenty of time to explore trails, coves, and small islands in the Rock Harbor area. We felt good, but pathetic as this sounds, we still felt like Annie Wilkes had taken a sledge hammer to our ankles. There were a handful of day hikes I would have loved to have taken, and paddling around all of the inlets sounded great, but we were both content just relaxing for a while. We put the ½ day canoe voucher on hold and decided to spend the morning hanging around the visitor center and dock.

Leaving Isle Royale

Rock Harbor could prove an enjoyable place to spend 2 or 3 days if backpacking isn't appealing. A handful of very interesting day hikes start there and range anywhere from a few miles to 10 miles roundtrip. Rock Harbor Lodge also operates a boat service that allows visitors to see a few other parts of the island without having to hike long distances. Smaller islands can be explored up close via canoe or kayak. I could easily see myself going back and spending more time there.

By 10:30 I was feeling a bit restless and decided to go for a walk. There were murmurings of a cow moose in the area, so I decided to take a walk along Tobin Harbor Trail to see if I could find one. Craig was still in energy saver mode, so he elected to stay behind and keep an eye on the supply of dill pickle potato chips in the camp store. I struck out on the trail and headed toward the sea plane dock. A few hikers were waiting there for a flight off the island, including the woman we had met solo hiking the Greenstone. Within a few minutes, the sound of a small plane could be heard. It appeared over the trees and I watched it land in Tobin Harbor. While the group got ready to board, I got back on the trail and resumed my search.

I joined up with a few other hikers who were also killing time before the afternoon ferry. Within just a few minutes, we spotted a big female moose in the trees just off the trail. She seemed ok with our presence, provided we didn't get too close. After about 5 minutes of hushed excitement and jockeying for position to take photos, everyone else left. I decided to stay and keep watch from a distance. There was a clearing ahead on the other side of the trail, and I had a feeling she was heading that way. If I stayed far enough away and didn't bother her, maybe I would be able to get a good clear view for a photo.

My plan paid off as she emerged from the trees with two previously hidden calves the size of ponies. The three of them slowly lumbered across the trail and into the clearing. Eventually, I followed and stood on the trail watching them as they walked toward the woods on the far side of the clearing to browse the foliage. At that moment, Craig appeared with a couple of hikers he had met at the dock. We all watched the moose family for a few minutes, before they disappeared into the woods. Later we would hear a theory that this particular female is staying close to the Rock Harbor area, the idea being that it is easier to protect her calves in an area where wolves are hesitant to enter due to human activity. She has her work cut out for her for the upcoming winter.

Something grabs the attention of this moose family

We returned to the dock and learned that the hikers Craig had met belonged to a Northeast Ohio Backpacking Club. One of them had taken a couple of outstanding photos of a huge bull moose a few days before. He was ahead of his group and came around a corner to find the enormous animal staring at him. Although I was green with envy, I probably would have had a seizure from excitement at the sight of those antlers.

We spent the last few hours browsing the books in the visitor center and talking with our new acquaintances while waiting for the ferry. About an hour before boarding, I made the decision to take some motion sickness pills. I didn't think I'd have trouble with sea sickness, but this proved untrue on the initial ferry ride to the island the week before. Despite calm waters, about halfway there I started to feel queasy from the constant gentle rocking of the ship. I frequently had to step outside onto the deck in the cold fresh air to avoid getting sick.

A park ranger waits to greet a new batch of visitors

The Isle Royale Queen is awesome, and I highly recommend taking it to the island.  However, amongst un-seaworthy hikers, it is known as “The Barf Barge.” It is a relatively small vessel, and  when the water is anything but glassy smooth, chain-reaction vomiting has been known to occur. We had read grim accounts of passengers lining the deck shoulder to shoulder, gripping the handrails and leaning over the side for the entire journey. The problem with taking medicine for motion sickness it that it causes me to fall into a zombie-like state – too out-of-it to read, think clearly, or have a coherent conversation, but not out of it enough to fall asleep. This makes for a miserable time. But, I really didn't want to take the risk of being the one to start the dominoes falling.

The boat was full, and for the first hour, I was very high from the motion sickness pills. This was a good thing as a very chatty woman sat with us once she and her husband discovered they couldn't find seats together. The husband stood there dumbly for a moment, before his wife harshly shooed him away to go sit outside off the back of the boat. Without any exaggeration, this woman talked non-stop for two solid hours. I don't think she breathed. We learned lots of interesting “facts” which she had absorbed during her time staying at the lodge and taking boat tours. She explained to us that both male and female moose have antlers (I tried to object to this, but she wouldn't have it), and that she had met a family of hikers, which included a grandfather in his 70's and a 12-year-old child, who had just hiked the entire 42+ miles across the island - in a single day. I looked down at her foot and saw a bloody wad of toilet paper stuck under the strap of her sandal. “Alright,” I interrupted suddenly. “What's the deal with your foot?” Emboldened by the power of the motion sickness pills, I felt that if I was to be held prisoner by this woman's never ceasing aural assault, I should be able to ask whatever the hell I wanted. 

Copper Harbor at sunset

It turns out a leach had affixed itself to her foot while canoeing earlier that day, and upon showing it to her husband, he simply reached over and ripped it off. I explained to her that I had taken some medication to prevent becoming violently ill and to please forgive me if I wasn't very lively company. She really was very friendly, but one can only take so much.

A view of the Isle Royale Queen from the dock behind King Copper Motel

It took almost 4 hours to reach Copper Harbor and I was barely conscious for the last two of them. We retrieved our car from the ferry parking lot, and I was impressed by the distance people had traveled to visit Isle Royale. States all over the country were represented by the license plates I observed: New York, Washington, Iowa, Texas, Colorado, Wisconsin, and Indiana to name a few. Since there is no reliable cell phone service in Copper Harbor, we checked in with our families by way of the pay phone outside the King Copper Motel. After eating whitefish chowder and warm panini sandwiches at The Mariner, and drinking a couple of Keweenaw Amber Ales at Zik's, we headed back to the motel and went to sleep in preparation for our 12-hour drive home.

A small but perfectly excellent selection of draft beers at Zik's

This hiking trip to Isle Royale National Park is the best vacation I have ever taken. It was at once beautiful and subtle, physically exhausting and mentally rewarding. A feeling of contentment settled over us while on Isle Royale and it lasted for several weeks after returning home. Despite how much I may have enjoyed other vacations, no other trip has managed to have that effect. Once home, I spent countless hours sorting through our photos, reading trip reports from other hikers and viewing their pictures as well. Isle Royale left an impression on us that will not fade any time soon. We want to go back someday, and hope that the delicate balance of life in this remote wilderness will find a way to thrive into the uncertain future.

More photos from my trip can be seen here, or by clicking on the Isle Royale link to the upper right under photos.

Informative Links:

Isle Royale Wolf-Moose Study

Isle Royale - NPS Page

Photos (amazing photos taken by honest-to-goodness photographers):

Sweetwater Visions - Isle Royale Page

Terra Galleria - Isle Royale Page

Brimmages

Isle Royale National Park | September 2009

Prologue: The Big Picture

The blue line shows our route. Click to enlarge.

Craig and I planned to spend 8 days backpacking around the eastern end of Isle Royale. We would end up experiencing the kind of vacation where we truly let go of everything back home. There was no thought or discussion of work, laptops and phones were not missed, and small things like collecting berries to add to our morning oatmeal made us ridiculously happy. Toward the end, it occurred to me that I hadn't seen my own reflection in 7 days.

Calm seas. A freighter can be seen in the distance.

Isle Royale is an archipelago in northern Lake Superior created by ancient volcanic activity, then later scraped and gouged by glaciers. It is 99% wilderness featuring rugged terrain, high ridges, inland lakes, and wildlife such as loons, moose, and the gray wolf. The remoteness of the island makes it one of the least-visited national parks in the U.S., and the only one to close down in winter.

Our itinerary included 7 days of hiking, plus an extra day to use either along the way if a particular spot was especially interesting, or at the end of the trip if we felt like spending more time in the Rock Harbor area. Rock Harbor is the arrival and departure point for most visitors and is home to a ranger station, visitors center, camp store, several boat docks, and a lodge/restaurant/gift shop for those who want to spend lots of money. There are also a handful of day hikes that begin in Rock Harbor, and canoes can be rented for paddling around the many coves and small islands that make up Isle Royale's eastern end.

Leaving Copper Harbor on the Isle Royale Queen IV

On Friday, the 8am passenger ferry from Copper Harbor (Michigan's northernmost town located at the very top of the Keweenaw Peninsula) brought us 56 miles across a thankfully calm Lake Superior. We docked at Rock Harbor around 11:45 am, and joined the other hikers for orientation given by a park ranger. Intentionally planning this trip for September, we expected cooler weather and fewer hikers. While there weren't nearly as many people as there would have been in July or August, there were still quite a few. We learned that we would be enjoying the best stretch of weather the island had experienced all season, as clear skies and warmer than average temperatures would prevail for the next several days. Normally at this time of year, daytime highs in the 60's and nights in the 40's are common, but we would experience days in the mid-high 70's and lots of sun.

Orientation consisted of an overview of the 7 components of Leave No Trace, some do's and don't's regarding how to behave in the backcountry (For instance, if a moose is in your way on the trail, don't throw rocks at it. It's very sad that there are reasons why this type of advice must be given.). Sneaky foxes will steal anything left unattended. Moose need to be given a wide berth as females with young can become aggressive if they feel threatened. He also informed us that while the possibility of seeing a wolf is extremely remote, they want to know about it if it happens as it could provide useful information to the wolf study team.

Juvenile mergansers, I think

Upon finishing orientation, an itinerary must be left with a ranger at the visitors center. This information is helpful not only because it provides some idea of where you might be in the backcountry should something happen, but also because if seven people in a row are heading to the same place, the ranger can warn the eighth person that the campsite might be full. They enter your info into their computer and print out a backcountry permit for you to keep with you and post at your campsites. Hikers are not required to stick to their itinerary, but any changes should be reported when you turn in your permit at the end of your visit. Apparently, the majority of hikers end up deviating from their original plans somewhere along the way.

To be continued in: Isle Royale Day One - Rock Harbor to Lane Cove

More photos from this trip can be seen here.

My Love and Fear of Water

Jutting out into the frigid water of Lake Superior, the Keweenaw Peninsula in Michigan’s U.P. is the home of the tiny town of Copper Harbor. It is a beautiful and quiet place with a population of around 32 bona-fide, year-round residents. In the summer it is a haven for kayaking and mountain biking and for simply relaxing and exploring the landscape which is what I intended to do for a few days as I traveled the western half of the U.P. After spending the morning under an overcast sky sifting through wave-polished stones on the rocky shore of Hunters Point, my sister and I stopped for an enormous lunch at Harbor Haus. Sitting at a table in front of a wall of windows providing a panorama of the largest of the Great Lakes, we stopped talking as the view began to change. An eerie silence blanketed the restaurant as others started to take notice of the scene before us. The water at the shore outside the window seemed to be receding steadily. The occasional clinking sound drew attention to the quiet as people set down their silverware and stared at the lake. In the distant horizon, where storm colored water met grey sky, a shadow was moving toward us. The moment we all realized what we were seeing, a strange calm settled over the room. Without words, we all began to stand, staring transfixed at the shadow, a moving wall looming larger and larger in the closing distance. No one questioned what we were seeing. No one said a word. No one panicked or tried to run. Silently, each person looked around at others standing around them. I met the eyes of two men standing at a nearby table, a waitress holding a pitcher of water by the bar, and finally my sister standing next to me. As those around us started to do the same, we clasped hands with each other, then with whoever stood near enough to reach. Looking out the glass wall one last time at the lake and the shadow that was close enough now to see just how quick and violent our destruction was going to be, I closed my eyes knowing that every one of the people around me, who I now felt an inexplicable love for, was doing the same.

Then I woke up.

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