Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore | Day Three

Mosquito Beach to the Trailhead 
(via Mosquito Falls Trail)

Mosquito River - Mosquito Falls Trail (Photo by Andrea)

Wanting to get up early on our last day, we had set an alarm for 8am, but neither of us felt like getting up, so we continued snoozing until 9:00. It rained during the night, which had woken both of us up a few times, but we both had slept well. Andrea was very happy with the Therm-a-Rest NeoAir X-Lite, and I felt the same regarding the Big Agnes Q-Core SL. Both kept us well-insulated, and neither of us had sore hips. The NeoAir X-Lite inflates to 2.5” thick, the Q-Core to 3.5”. Although the NeoAir is known to be a noisy mattress – it has a heat-reflective layer that causes the mattress to crinkle when it's moved – once a sleeping bag is on top of it, the noise is deadened and is not much of an issue. Regarding the Q-Core, on the first night it was warm enough that I tried sleeping with my sleeping bag open and draped over me like a quilt. I'm normally a cold sleeper, but I was comfortable all night and never felt the cold, hard ground. When I was researching new mattresses before making a purchase, I read some reviews that claimed this pad is difficult to blow up, especially when you're already winded and tired from hiking a long distance. It does take me about 2.5 minutes to inflate, but it is not difficult, and the comfort is definitely worth it. (I say this knowing that this trip consisted of short, easy hikes. I will see how I feel after my next trip.) Both of these pads (especially the NeoAir X-Lite) pack down to a very small size, saving a good amount of space. 

Cocoon Inflatable Pillow and Therm-A-Rest Pillow

Also helping me save space on this trip, I tried an inflatable pillow, which I had refused to consider in the past. It just seemed uncomfortable and that a person's head would roll around on it like a beach ball. I bought a Cocoon Hyperlight Air Core pillow, which is about the size of an apple when packed in its stuff sack and weighs practically nothing. This trip may have converted me, but I need more time with it. It was actually pretty comfortable - my head did roll a little on it, but as long as I under-inflated it a bit, my head was pretty well-cushioned and didn't move too much. When stuffed, it's about 1/4 of the size of my Therm-a-Rest pillow, so I will be taking it on my next trip for further testing (8 days at Isle Royale in September). 

Mosquito Beach

Mosquito Beach - Photos by Andrea

We packed everything up and headed to the beach to make breakfast. It was still cold, but the sun was shining and the fog was finally gone. We sat on a rocky ledge and made oatmeal while watching the lake. After breakfast, we explored the beach again, seeing things with a new perspective thanks to the sunlight. The formation near the beach's eastern end held our fascination for a while. It has a curved turret on top, and a small cave has been carved into the side facing the lake. It was difficult to leave Mosquito beach, but we headed back to the trail around 11:00 am to begin the hike back to the trailhead. 

Mosquito River

This leg of Chapel Loop – Mosquito Falls Trail – is serene and very pretty. We are familiar with this trail from past visits, but it is always enjoyable. Everything was a beautiful, rich green, and the woods smelled wonderful. We saw a doe on the trail, but that was the extent of wildlife spotting, aside from a few slugs on tree trunks (originally discovered when I randomly reached out to steady myself while stepping over a log and ended up with a handful of slime). There are four separate cascades along Mosquito River that make up Mosquito Falls. Light filtering through the tree canopy and down to the river and forest floor creates beautiful color and mood. We have also snowshoed this trail in winter, which is another beautiful time to see the river. The trail is not blazed, however, so it could be easy to get lost when covered with snow.

Ferns along Mosquito Falls Trail

Mosquito Falls

Once we reached the second cascade, we began to see people. It is a short hike from the trailhead parking lot to the falls, and now that it was Saturday, groups of day visitors were making their way down the trail. We reached the trailhead around 2pm. When we first arrived on Thursday, ours was one of only two cars. Now the parking lot was full. We headed back to Munising and ate pasties at Muldoon's before beginning the drive back down-state.

Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore 2013: Chapel Loop - Introduction

I didn't think it was possible to forget how to use my camera. Sitting in the passenger seat of my sister, Andrea's, car as we drove north on I-75 through Michigan's lower peninsula, I fumbled with the settings on my simple, point-and-shoot Canon. How do I adjust the brightness, or switch it to wide-screen? Andrea helped me figure it out when we briefly detoured onto US-23 N and stopped for lunch at Wheeler's in Standish. Intending to visit Tony's Tacos, we were sad to discover that it was no longer operating out of the small trailer just off the highway. Instead, a sign encouraged us to visit them in Tawas City.

Stones at Chapel Beach

My camera issues and ignorance regarding Tony's move are both due to the same thing: I have not gone on a hiking trip since September 2011. Between starting a new job almost a year ago and taking classes in the evenings over the last few years, the time I used to have for hiking and other travels around the Great Lakes State has dwindled to near non-existence. I hadn't taken a photo with anything other than my iPhone, or driven to the northern part of the state in a very long time. This was long overdue, and even if I had to substitute a patty melt and fries for tacos machos with chorizo, I was beyond excited to be headed for the Upper Peninsula.

Obligatory Mackinac Bridge Photo

Andrea is an experienced traveler, who often goes on spontaneous cross-country trips. She recently intended to visit friends 2 1/2 hours away in Chicago, but changed her mind along the way and ended up in Badlands National Park, South Dakota. She keeps gear in her car just in case, and is always up for hiking or snowshoeing. She had yet to go backpacking though, and has been wanting to try it for quite a while. She had already been accumulating the necessary equipment, but still needed to be fitted for a backpack and new boots, as her trusty but ancient Sorels had finally (and simultaneously) disintegrated last year. She visited me over Memorial Day weekend, and we spent four hours at REI. 

Andrea's Sorels perish on Mosquito Falls Trail during a previous visit

We would both be trying new gear on this trip. I had recently purchased a Big Agnes Q-Core SL sleeping pad and was anxious to test it. Andrea opted for the ThermaRest Neo Air Xlite. Both of them weigh very little, but inflate to comfortable thicknesses and provide good insulation. Also, Andrea intended to test her titanium Emberlit twig-burning stove, and she and Craig - who owns a Vargo twig-burner - held a competition on our porch to see whose stove boiled water faster. The Emberlit's design allows for more airflow and easier addition of twigs, and it won the battle (and Craig has since purchased an Emberlit).

The Vargo                                    The Emberlit                                      The Boil-off

I typically wait until closer to Fall to go backpacking because I like the cooler weather and lack of mosquitoes and black flies. However, I was due to wrap up school near the end of June and really needed a vacation. Andrea happened to have the last week of the month off, so we quickly made plans for a short, 2-night trip to Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore. This is our favorite part of Michigan, and we have visited it many times both together and separately. Reservations must be made in advance for backcountry permits and specific campsites along this stretch of trail; it is a beautiful area and very popular with backpackers. 

The trail along Pictured Rocks NL is part of the North Country Trail

The National Park Service begins taking reservations on January 2 and recommends making reservations as early in the year as possible. Because of this, I did not expect to be granted reservations on a month's notice. We must have gotten lucky because we planned to visit the area mid-week, beginning Thursday, June 27. Despite the unpredictable nature of Michigan weather in June and the rumors of unfathomable swarms of mosquitoes and black flies following a very wet spring, we packed our bug nets and decided to go for it.

Lady Slipper Orchid

We reserved 2 spots in a prime section of the lakeshore, which would allow for an easy, 2-night loop and include spectacular cliff and rock formation viewing – a perfect trip for someone backpacking for the first time, and someone who hasn't gone in nearly two years. We would park at the Mosquito/Chapel trailhead and hike to Chapel Beach on the first day. Day two would be spent hiking along the cliffs' edges, past Grand Portal Point to Mosquito Beach. On day three, we would hike along Mosquito River, enjoying the multiple cascades of Mosquito Falls before returning to the trailhead. We have day-hiked to all of these locations before, and they are some of our favorites. At some point over the next few years, I plan to backpack Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore from end to end, but for now, 3 days was all we had.

Storm over Munising Bay

We arrived in Munising Wednesday evening and checked into the Sunset Motel. It was surprisingly hot – near 90 degrees right on Munising Bay. About an hour after arriving, however, a storm blew in suddenly, darkening the skies to a blackish purple and causing the temperature to drop at least 30 degrees almost instantly. Wind blew fiercely off the bay toward the little motel, and we had to change into warmer clothes in order to sit on its covered porch and watch the drama unfold. It rained all through the night, and when we got up at 7 a.m. the following morning, it continued to pour as we gathered our gear and prepared to go to the Pictured Rocks Visitor Center to pick up our permits. An omen?

To be continued in: Day One – Trailhead to Chapel Beach

Mosquito River Snowshoe

10+ miles The Chapel / Mosquito trailhead is not accessible by car in winter. Roads are plowed only to certain points, and from these spots it is necessary to rely on other means of travel. Some areas of Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore are accessible by snowmobile; other locations forbid any type of motorized vehicle. Cross-country skis would be very handy in some of these areas, as it is sometimes necessary to travel a significant distance on foot, which would normally by covered by car. Since I have not yet ventured into the world of skiing, snowshoes would have to suffice when my sister, Andrea, and I set out to hike to the Mosquito River and Falls.

On the way to the trailhead. Snow blankets Lake Superior State Forest.

Leaving Munising, we headed east on H-58 around 8am. I channeled the stoic nerves of an ice road trucker as I slid around on the solid sheet of snow-covered ice disguised as a road. Luckily, we appeared to be the only people awake and moving about, so we did not have to be careful of other drivers. Also in our favor was the fact that the local deer seemed to be sleeping in.

Andrea descends a steep slope into a valley.

This was the first time I have driven this route in the winter, and once we entered the birch forest, the scenery became a winter wonderland postcard. Around 9am, we reached the end of the plowed portion of the road and parked off to the side. Based on the park service road closure map, I guessed it was about 3 miles to the Chapel / Mosquito trailhead, where hikers would normally park and begin walking.

Snowshoes on and trek poles in hand, we left the car behind and continued on foot. A layer of light snow covered older snowshoe and cross-country ski tracks, which looked to be resting atop a layer of snow 18” – 24” deep. After a mile, I was feeling pretty good about being 1/3 of the way there. Then we passed a sign indicating that we still had 3 miles to go. I may need to invest in skis.

We pressed on, and eventually reached the trailhead where I engaged in my favorite winter challenge: using an outhouse while wearing snowshoes. Foolishly, I was not able to determine how long it took us to reach this point from the car (and, also, how long we would need to get back) because I was not wearing a watch. Although I was fully aware that there is no cell phone reception in this area, I stupidly forgot that this would also affect my phone’s clock. When I pulled my phone from my backpack and found the battery draining while searching hopelessly for a signal (and not displaying the time), I felt like an idiot. I may also need to invest in a watch.

Photo by Andrea

The first section of Mosquito Falls is approximately one mile from the trailhead. I had not hiked this trail in 3 or 4 years, so it was almost a new experience. Luckily, Andrea had been there in autumn and the details were fresh in her mind.

For close to ½ mile, no previous tracks were visible, but the fresh snow looked slightly depressed where it had coated the path. The trail is not blazed, however, and after the first ½ mile, it disappeared altogether. If I had been alone, I would have had no idea where to go, as the trail climbs ridges, then descends into steep valleys, and the river is not always audible. Andrea knew exactly where to go and led us to the shallow canyon overlooking the first section of Mosquito falls without incident. Due to the steepness of portions of this trail, the crampons on the bottoms of our snowshoes were invaluable and I definitely recommend using trek poles.
In warmer months, it is easy to climb down to the river’s edge. This appeared impossible due to the snow and ice, so we remained at the top of the cliff overlooking the river. Mosquito Falls consists of four small cascades, which are very subtle even in peak season. Icicles hung along the canyon walls, and the heavy blanket of snow did not leave much of the falls visible.

The first section of Mosquito Falls is mostly hidden by snow and ice.
Photo by Andrea

We explored along the river for ½ mile or so, then began the long trek back to the car. Although I did not remember the hike to the trailhead being downhill, the walk back felt like a slight but never-ceasing incline which made the journey a very slow trudge. Andrea is a stronger hiker than I am, and before long she was leaving me in her powdery dust while I wheezed along.
We finally reached the car and I was surprised at it being only 3pm. Hiking a little over 10 miles in 6 hours is really not bad at all in snow, especially with much time spent gazing at the river and taking pictures. We headed back to the motel to eat a quick late lunch before heading back out to visit more icy areas in Munising before the sun went down.
Video below:

Click the play button to see a small section of Mosquito Falls

Munising Falls

It is tradition for me to visit Munising Falls whenever I’m near the western end of Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore. Even in summer, when not much more than an unenthusiastic trickle of water drools from the top, I still must see it.

For me, most of the attraction is the sandstone formation that the water falls from. I am fascinated by the eroded cliff formations and canyons that were formed in the region when it was covered by glaciers. Here, Munising Creek drops 50 feet into the canyon below on its way to Lake Superior, a short distance away.

I could spend hours examining the layered walls of rock that surround me while walking the short path from the interpretive center to the waterfall. I am mystified by the people I have seen walk briskly toward the sound of splattering water, never once look from side to side, stop for a moment at the first viewing spot, snap a photo and turn around. I lose sleep over this kind of thing; it is the curse of the obsessive rock nerd.

Barriers have been put in place fairly recently in an attempt to stop visitors from walking under the cliff and behind the waterfall. Signs posted warning of the potential danger of falling rock lend justification to these measures, and in warmer months it is not unusual to see a park ranger keeping a casual eye on potential adventurers.

During winter, Munising Falls creates a different, possibly even more spectacular scene. A massive column of ice is created, giving the falls a much bigger presence. Unfortunately, lack of funding does not allow the interpretive center to remain open through the winter months, but the smaller number of visitors allows more freedom to explore and photograph the area without having to wait for people to get out of your frames. You are also less likely to get caught climbing over the barricades. Normally, I obey the rules about this kind of thing. I respect the desire to keep natural areas untouched and keep erosion to a minimum, but it is really hard to resist getting closer to that column of ice.

I speculate that when rules are broken and the ice is observed directly, the sound of running water can still be heard from within the frozen waterfall. I imagine that the trickling echo could lead someone to look down past the base of the ice to see the stream of water rush out to continue its journey. I can’t say for sure, though, and I have no idea where these photos came from.

The North Country Trail (also called the Lakeshore Trail along this stretch of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula) can be accessed directly behind the interpretive center. For backpackers through-hiking the NCT - a 4600-mile footpath running from North Dakota to New York - Munising Falls would be a nice rest stop. It is also either the starting or ending point for those hiking the 42-mile Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore section only. This route is a one-way trip from Munising to Grand Marais (or the other way around) and features some of the most awe-inspiring scenery of the entire multi-state trail. I am considering this option for a fall backpacking trip later this year.

Eben Ice Caves

Rock River Canyon Wilderness

Stalactites of Ice

I recently returned from three days of snowshoeing in the Upper Peninsula with my sister, Andrea. We dubbed our trip 'Frozen Ice Crystal Palace Adventure 2010'. In addition to being fanatical rock nerds, we are also certified ice geeks and had been looking forward to visiting some icy hot spots in the far north of Michigan.

Photo by Andrea
Our first destination for FICPA 2010 was the Eben Ice Caves, located in Rock River Canyon Wilderness in the western section of Hiawatha National Forest. Rock River Canyon is 150 feet deep and lined with sandstone outcrops, which have been eroded to form concave overhangs. During winter, ground water seeps over the edge and down through the sandstone where it freezes, creating huge curtains of ice and closing off the front of the outcrops to form caves.

In winter it is possible to access the ice caves from the south side of the wilderness area. A few miles north of Eben Junction, visitors can park their cars by the side of the road and cross an open field to the forest. The field is private property, but the owner allows for its use in winter to access the ice caves.

Photo by Andrea

After checking in at the Sunset Motel in Munising, we headed west on M-94, drove through Chatham, turned North at the Eben post office, then right onto Frey Road. We parked the car where the road curves left at the open field and headed to the first phase of our Ice Adventure.

Rock River Canyon

It felt much colder than it actually was. The temperature was somewhere in the low-mid 20's, but the light wind felt like an arctic assault to the face. Shortly after entering the woods, the effects of the wind tapered off and an interpretive sign welcomed us with information about the wilderness.

First Glimpse of Ice

From there the trail is easy to follow; the path has a few steep spots, but doesn't really require much work for such an awesome pay-off. Shortly before the caves, a short bridge cuts across a stream, then the trail curves to the right and begins to climb. The ice becomes visible at the center of the “V” created by the hills on either side of the path.

The Ice Cave

We had both seen a few photos of the ice caves, but none of them really captured the size of this phenomenon. It was difficult to decide where to begin to tackle it photographically, and we immediately began climbing around the hillsides to get a more expansive view, and crouching and crawling around at the base of the ice to see every possible angle. Unfortunately, my camera malfunctioned shortly after our arrival (I was able to fix the problem later), but luckily I could rely on Andrea to capture every square inch of the area and give me copies later.

Blue chandelier

What we weren't able to capture, however, was the amazing sound inside the cave. The drips of water falling from above created wonderful echoes and added to the cave atmosphere. There is much variation of color and texture to the ice in different parts of the cave. Some formations were smooth and clear, others were bumpy and hollow-sounding, and there were some columns that looked like dripping candle wax.

Waxy Ice Column

The ice was mostly white or had a yellowish tint from the sandstone. Light shining through from outside of the cave gave other areas a blue or green glow. The cave floor consisted of waxy-looking pools of frozen water in some areas, and exposed earth in others.

Inside the cave - Photo by Andrea

We spent at least an hour at the Eben Ice Caves, and could have lingered a lot longer had it not been for the cold catching up to us due to lack of activity. We had intended to hike to a nearby waterfall after leaving Rock River Canyon, but it was now close to sunset, so we tabled that for later in the trip and headed back to Munising to drink hot chocolate with peppermint schnapps and decide on the following day's hike.

"I could happily die in this cave." - Andrea

More photos of the Eben Ice Caves can be seen here.

Backpacking Grand Island National Recreation Area:

Day Four: Trout Bay to Williams Landing

On day four we found ourselves ahead of schedule. We had planned to spend 2 nights in the North Point area so that we could have a day of relaxation and enjoy the beach. However, since the campsites weren't overlooking the water, we had decided to move on. Now that we had a perfect beach campsite, we needed to decide whether to stay on Trout Bay another night or to finish up on the fourth day. Williams Landing and the ferry dock were only around 5 miles away, and we didn't really see the point in packing up and staying at another campsite along that route for our final night since the Little Dune sites were so good. I voted to stay put and spend the day reading on the beach with periodic breaks to go swimming or nap in the tent. Craig is more stir crazy and wasn't sure if he could relax all day without getting bored. In the end, we compromised and planned to spend an unhurried morning eating breakfast, drinking coffee, relaxing, and eventually leave for Williams Landing around noon.

Just as we started to break camp, I spotted a couple of backpackers making their way down the boardwalk with the look of hoping against hope that our site was available. We occupied the last one, and we knew everything else was full. Upon spotting me, the woman's shoulders sagged and she turned to her male companion who pulled out a map and looked depressed. Remembering how Craig and I felt the day before, after trudging all the way to this very place, I ran over to let them know that we were clearing out and the site was theirs. They nearly cried and immediately dropped their packs and set off for the shore. A half-hour later we waved goodbye to the couple on the beach and began the last leg of our trip.

Unfortunately, we had to walk back down that stretch of road which was unprotected from the sun, now high in the sky and beating on our heads. While making our way down the road with our heads down, a shadow suddenly floated across the trail in front of us. We both looked up in time to see a magnificent bald eagle soar directly over us just above the tree line. I missed this perfect photographic opportunity because for once I did not have my camera in hand. The eagle was a beautiful sight, gliding silently against the clear blue sky, and it's presence brightened the slightly boring stretch of trail.
The trail curves sharply south and runs past Duck Lake - a small inland lake with a viewing platform – before reaching Murray Bay Beach which features picnic areas for day use and campsites for overnight stays. Various historic sites grabbed our attention along the shore of Murray Bay. The Stone Quarry Cabin, built in 1845, is one of the oldest standing structures on Lake Superior and was home to various workers such as stone cutters in Michigan's early history.

It is near this spot that we encountered the largest pile of bear scat we have ever seen. The size of a small mountain, it held evidence of a diet of berries and seemed fresh. Would we be lucky enough to catch a glimpse of the undoubtedly huge fellow who released this impressive bomb? Did we really want to? Was he, right at that moment, hiding behind a tree and watching the ridiculous humans gawk at his excrement, wondering how we made it to the top of the food chain? We looked around nervously but saw no sign of a large omnivore lingering to receive praise for his accomplishment.

Further south we passed the decrepit remains of tennis courts which used to be part of a resort operated by an iron mining company in the early 1900s. The main hotel is gone, but some of the cottages still remain and are privately owned.

Once back at Williams Landing, we again encountered the forest service volunteers from the day before and chatted about our trip while waiting for the ferry that would return us to Munising. When the boat reached the dock, it unloaded a new group of visitors including a couple of backpackers with their dog who was suited up with her own pack.

We nearly broke down on the water when a huge tree branch that had been floating in the bay lodged itself in the pontoon boat's motor causing us to stall halfway to shore. Thinking fondly of showers and whitefish sandwiches, we returned to town and spent a few days relaxing before beginning the long drive home.

Backpacking Grand Island National Recreation Area:

Day Two: Mather Beach to Northeast PointWe prepared for an early start on the second day because there were only 3 campsites at our destination on the north side of the island. We wanted to get there early in case we encountered other hikers and we now knew it wouldn't be easy to set up camp randomly if none of the designated sites were available. Beyond the last of the north sites, there wouldn't be another one for 6.5 miles, so we were counting on getting a good site on the north side. Plus, no good access to water reportedly existed along the East Rim Trail which would be our route on day 3, so we planned to stock up at North Point Beach before setting out the next morning.After oatmeal and a couple of cups of strong coffee, we headed back to Mather Beach to filter some water and refill our camelbaks and extra bottles. Not only did this provide drinking water for the day, but the ice cold water also jolted us awake. A conveniently placed boulder about 20 feet from shore served as a perfect spot to sit and dangle the filter hose into the crystal clear water.

Once packed, we decided to explore Echo Lake, an inland lake that was a half-mile east according to the trail sign. As we headed away from the main trail and into the woods, the mosquitoes gathered alarmingly fast (around me only – they weren't interested in Craig at all) and we began to question whether this side trip would be worth the suffering. One half mile later, another sign announced that Echo Lake was a half-mile ahead. We began to sense a trap and decided to retreat to the main trail asap for fear of ending up in bug cocoons like those loggers in that episode of The X-files in which Mulder and Scully end up in bug-induced intensive care.

For the most part the hike from Mather Beach to North Point followed the cliff edges and both the weather and the view were spectacular. Several overlooks along the way revealed great expanses of Lake Superior, small islands in the distance, and rock formations along the cliffs themselves. Superior's brilliant blue/green/turquoise water sparkled under the clear sky and close to shore the rocky bottom of the lake was clearly visible from 200 feet above.Much of the day's hike was a gradual uphill climb. While not over-taxing, it was just enough to wonder when it was going to stop, which it only did in brief intervals. Walking uphill for any duration of time is one thing; biking a steady incline is entirely different and we both felt much respect for the occasional mountain biker we encountered that day. I couldn't even find it in me to feel annoyed at the gentleman who decided to take a break at the exact same time and place where I was crouched behind a tree attempting to stealthily urinate. He looked nearly unconscious and Craig managed to distract him away from the woods by talking about the view from the lookout point on the other side of the trail. Once he pedaled away and I emerged from the trees we resumed the gentle uphill climb until we reached North Point.

Again, we ended up choosing the last of the 3 sites after a few miles of apprehension over the wisdom of passing up the first 2 and several moments of worry over the high cliffs and the accuracy of my notes regarding water access. At this point though, the trail began to descend and we passed North Point Beach which startled us with its unexpected expanse of sand. After setting up camp at Northeast Point, about ¾ of a mile beyond the beach, we backtracked for a much needed swim and to filter water for that evening's dinner and washing up, plus extra for the next day's drinking supply.

On the way to the beach I got distracted by the sight of a distant rock arch at the tip of North Point and stopped to take a few pictures. I told Craig to go on ahead and that I'd catch up. Naturally, the one and only bear that would present itself during the entire trip wandered out onto the trail in front of Craig during the brief moment we were separated and I wasn't there to see or photograph it. In his excitement, Craig called out to me and the bear tore off into the woods and disappeared. The only animals I managed to see that day were a mink and a garter snake.

North Point Beach was paradise. There wasn't a single other person along the entire stretch of lakeshore and although the water was shockingly cold at first, it took surprisingly little time to get accustomed to it. Altogether we ended up walking around 10 miles that day – 3 miles further than we had intended due to various detours, and certainly a workout for first time backpackers carrying relatively heavy packs. Swimming in the cold lake somehow felt invigorating and soothing at the same time and I didn't want to get out. Later, we enthusiastically enjoyed a dinner of dehydrated chicken and mashed potatoes that tasted so magnificent we declared it one of the best thing we'd ever eaten.To be continued in Grand Island: Day 3