Craig Lake State Park | Fall 2015

Part Two: Craig Lake Trail

Craig Lake

Craig Lake Trail is known as a rugged hiking trail.  I found it to be a perfect day hike—8 miles of rolling terrain in a beautiful forest circling the quiet lake.  The landscape is hilly, with a bit of climbing here and there, but nothing extremely strenuous.  We finished the hike in just over 3 hours; it was a beautiful, chilly fall day, and I would’ve been happy to hike a little longer.  

Blue blazes on Craig Lake Trail

We left the yurt at Teddy Lake and drove to the Craig Lake Trailhead, about a mile away.  There is no outhouse at the trailhead parking lot, which is unusual and a bit of a buzzkill if you arrive with nature already calling from an excess of morning coffee.  After wandering around for a few minutes, I accepted defeat and ventured into the woods.  There were only a few vehicles parked at the trailhead, and it was very quiet.  

Old school sign

Some of the signs along Craig Lake Trail have obviously been there for a long time, sporting a weathered, mid-century look.  Trailhead signs point hikers to various spots along Craig Lake Trail, and toward the North Country Trail, which also meanders around Craig Lake on its 4,600-mile journey from North Dakota to New York.  Our longest national scenic trail, the NCT shares a path with Craig Lake Trail along the east side of the lake before veering east toward its route through the McCormick Wilderness, then on to Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore, Tahquamenon Falls State Park, and beyond.

The full Michigan DNR map can be found here: http://goo.gl/ydlEKX

We decided to head west and circle Craig Lake in a clockwise direction.  Craig Lake Trail starts out following an old two-track road, which is used as a private access road for park employees to service the park’s two rustic lakeside cabins.  During our visit, it was buried in fallen leaves that rustled as we walked, making the only sound in the otherwise silent forest.  

The trail begins on an old road

In about a quarter-mile, the trail leads to an open area along the shore of the lake that is a popular canoe put-in spot with a few campsites.  There are also two outhouses, which I took advantage of on principle.  From there the trail hugs the lake and heads north toward the park’s two rustic cabins - Miller Lodge and the Caretaker’s Cabin.  Built in the early 1950s by Fred Miller of Miller Brewing Company in what was then his private fishing retreat, the cabins are now state park property and can be rented through the Michigan DNR. 

High Life Creek

About a half-mile before the cabins, the trail/road crosses over High Life Creek on a short, one-lane bridge.  The Caretaker’s Cabin is reached first; no one was there, so we spent a little time checking things out.  The front of the cabin faces the trail, with a woodshed off to the side.  In the back there is a fire ring and picnic table, and a nice view of Craig Lake.  A rowboat was overturned and secured at the shore, waiting for the next guests to take it for a spin. 

The Caretaker's Cabin

We moved on and reached Miller Lodge about a minute later.  There were people at this cabin, so we didn’t explore it.  Here the overgrown road ends and the path continues north, becoming a proper hiking trail, disappearing into the trees behind the cabin and beginning to curve around the north end of the lake.  The forest was aglow with color—a variety of green, yellow, orange, and red shone around and above us, and blanketed the trail below.  Every once in a while I looked up to catch glimpses of the vibrant blue fall sky framed by multi-colored leaves.  Enormous boulders appear here and there along the trail—glacial erratics deposited during the last ice age.    

Blue fall sky and a splatter of red

Red and yellow maple leaves

Glacial erratic. I love these guys.

At the north end of the lake, we reached the backcountry campsite near the portage to Clair Lake.  There is a fire ring, small area to pitch a tent, and a wonderful view of Craig Lake.  The trail passes Craig Lake Portage and crosses a small stream over a wooden footbridge before climbing to a rocky bluff providing another nice view of the lake and surrounding trees sparkling in the bright sunlight.  The trail descends back into the forest and to the Peshekee River, which is crossed via a suspension bridge that was built in 2014.  Before that, hikers crossed the river using a fallen log.  

Backcountry campsite near the Clair Lake portage

Fall color on Craig Lake, seen from the Backcountry campsite near the Clair Lake portage

Rocky bluff at the north end of Craig Lake

The trail heads south along the east side of the lake, over hilly terrain.  This part of the trail wanders through stands of tall maple trees, whose leaves were a striking, luminescent yellow at this time of year.  It passes more backcountry campsites on Craig Lake and crosses the portage to Crooked Lake, where additional campsites can be found.  The trail curves around the south end of the lake and passes a path to more campsites on the shore of Craig Lake, referred to as the Sandy Beach Campsites.  Shortly after, the trail arrives back at the beginning of the loop.  Turning left brought us back to the trailhead parking area in about a quarter-mile.

Towering yellow

We returned to Teddy Lake and spent the rest of the day at the yurt, eating hotdogs, reading, and keeping warm near the wood stove.  It was a day well spent.

Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore | Day Two

Chapel Beach to Mosquito Beach 

Mosquito Beach

The first thing I saw when I woke up was a horrifying number of mosquitoes clinging to the outside of my tent door. I closed my eyes, hoping that I would go back to sleep and wake up later to discover that it had just been a dream. (Nope – horrible.) I made the mistake of twisting my head around for a 360º view of the tent and came to the conclusion that we were in big trouble and needed a really efficient exit strategy. Once Andrea was awake, we packed everything up as best we could inside the tent, threw everything out of the doors, crawled out, collapsed the tent, gathered everything together in a couple of heaps, and once again fled to the beach.

Waiting inside the rainfly, where they benefited from the heat inside our tent instead of dying out in the cold like nature intended.

We dropped everything in the spot where we made lunch the day before and took in our surroundings. The fog that had rolled in the night before had not left, and visibility was very limited. The cliff immediately to the west was a vague shadow. We had put our rain jackets on because it was actually very chilly, and it had seemed like it was raining in the woods. Because they had been absorbing the mist in the air all night from the fog, the trees dripped water overhead from their needles and leaves, giving the illusion of a steady light rain.

We made oatmeal and talked about the day ahead. This is the most picturesque section of Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore. The cliff views between Chapel and Mosquito beaches are spectacular, and hikers are able to walk out onto the tops of a couple of the more impressive formations. The fog was a factor we had not anticipated, however. The sky was murky, and there was no sign of the sun working its way through. If the fog did not burn away, there were not going to be many views of any kind. Still, Andrea and I have spent time in this area in the past when fog has been a factor. Fog creates an atmosphere that is just as enjoyable as a clear sunny day. In fact, it enhances the moody aura of Lake Superior. Since we have both hiked this trail before on a clear sunny day, hiking it in the fog would be an interesting twist. Plus, unpredictable weather goes with the territory, so you have to just go with it. I did feel bad for the hikers we would end up seeing that day who had probably traveled there to have their first Pictured Rocks experience and were not able to see any of the cliffs. That is a shame.

Looking back along the trail where the forest meets the cliff edge

After breakfast, we finished packing and hit the trail just before 11:00 am. Despite the fog - which never lifted - it was great hiking weather. It remained chilly all day, and we never removed our rain jackets. From the trail, nearly all of the cliff views were completely obscured, but it was still a fun hike. Fog enveloped everything and floated among the trees in the woods, giving the forest a mystical look in some areas near the cliff edges. 

Andrea on the trail somewhere between Grand Portal Point and Indian Head

Me on Grand Portal Point.   Sea gulls on a cliff. (Photos by Andrea)

Sadly, we could not see Grand Portal Point or Indian Head from the trail, but we spent quite a bit of time at each place, as it is possible to walk out onto the tops of them. Because of these vantage points, we were able to see some of the cliffs immediately around these formations. The air was busy with sea gulls, and their calls were a constant barrage of noise that echoed against the tall rock faces. From the top of Indian Head, we watched three kayakers far below paddle close to the cliffs. There were no other boats on the water that we noticed all day; the Pictured Rocks Cruises must have had to cancel their tours due to lack of visibility. Not once did we hear any horns out on the water. 

The view from the top of Indian Head of a kayaker paddling far below

The stretch of the NCT through Pictured Rocks is called Lakeshore Trail

We arrived at Mosquito Campground after an enjoyable four miles and chose site #6, which has a large evergreen in the center that provides a canopy over almost the whole site. The sites in this area are all set near Mosquito River, whose mouth is at the west end of Mosquito Beach. Ironically, mosquitoes were not much of an issue here, possibly because the weather had cooled off so much. We set up camp in a normal, relaxed, non-DEFCON 1 manner, and made a quick trip to the beach for water. We collected water from the river mouth, which was easy thanks to rock shelves that create small cascades. We returned to our campsite to filter water and eat a relaxing lunch of whole grain crackers with peanut butter and cheese. 

Mosquito Campsite #6 (photo by Andrea)

After lunch, we explored Mosquito Beach for a couple of hours. This is one of my favorite spots within the lakeshore. It is a rocky beach made up of layer upon layer of sandstone. The layers are various colors at different spots along the beach – grey, brown, orange, yellow, green, and pink. Erosive elements – water, wind, and ice – have shaped and carved the stone over millennia.

Mosquito Beach

Andrea and I were enthralled and spent close to two hours carefully crawling all over the rock and taking pictures of everything. I could have permanently moved into a particular spot where a cove has been eroded into the sandstone, exposing hundreds of multi-colored layers. As we worked our way west toward the mouth of Mosquito River, I met a couple from a suburb north of Detroit who were playing cards on the beach to avoid mosquitoes. They asked me what we were taking pictures of and I didn't know what to say. Looking around, wouldn't the answer be obvious? We are photographing every inch of rock everywhere – doesn't everyone do that? 

Inside a cove. I want to live here.

I was trying to come up with something to say other than “rocks,” to answer this insane question, but then I looked up and saw that they were both looking at me like I was crazy, and the beach was no place for nerds. Clearly, we were not going to understand each other, so I mumbled, “Oh, you know...the rock formations are pretty cool, so...rocks.” They replied, “Oh,” exchanged a glance, and resumed playing cards. Maybe they had a bad experience with rocks earlier in life and prefer not to acknowledge them.

Fragments of fragile sandstone layers in multiple colors (aka rocks)

Red and brown, then suddenly green and grey. How is that not fascinating?

Further east on the beach, the sandstone is suddenly pink.

Seriously!

Even though the mosquitoes weren't bothersome back at our campsite, we decided to eat dinner on the beach because we wanted to spend as much time there as possible. We returned to our campsite, grabbed the food and cooking supplies, and returned to find the beach deserted at 8:15 pm. We descended to a wide, flat expanse of rock just out of reach of the lapping waves and fired up the Jetboil. Once again, the Emberlit went unused. We could have collected sticks, but neither of us really felt like it at this point. Black Bean Tamale Pie from Backpacker's Pantry made an excellent dinner, and we sat there for about an hour watching the surf and just being there. Moments like that are some of the best while backpacking. I like to take notes and photograph the things that I see while hiking, but sometimes just sitting in one spot and being part of it without doing anything is the best way to spend time. The fog still hung in the air, and it was breezy and chilly as we sat on the rock and watched Lake Superior continuously reach out to us along the rocky shore. If it takes mosquito bites and sore muscles to get there, it is often worth it.

Andrea preparing dinner at Mosquito Beach

We reluctantly left Mosquito Beach around 9:15, found a spot away from camp to clean our dishes, and secured our food (bear pole and locker provided here also). We went to bed at 10:15 at the end of a great day. Undoubtedly, the fog was unfortunate for those hiking here for the first time, but we enjoyed it. 

Mosquito Beach

Mosquito Beach (Photo by Andrea)

To be continued in: Day 3 - Mosquito Beach back to the Trailhead. 

Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore | Day One:

Chapel / Mosquito Trailhead to Chapel Beach 
(via Chapel Falls Trail)

Chapel Beach

The rain stopped as we prepared to go to the Pictured Rocks Visitor's Center to pick up our backcountry permit. Things were looking up! We got there just after 9 am, and as one park service employee asked us questions and filled out the permit, another one leaned over to issue a warning. “Wear a bug net and bring bug spray,” she said. “The mosquitoes are horrible.” I think she actually shuddered a little.

Mushrooms on a log. Chapel Falls Trail.

I was wearing a long-sleeved shirt and long pants, and I had treated my clothes with permethrin the previous morning. This would be my first time trying permethrin, and I was anxious to see how well it worked. Andrea decided not to treat her clothes so that we could run a controlled experiment to test its effectiveness. I hadn't been on a trip in several years where I'd needed deet, so I picked up a small bottle of Ben's 100 for this trip, which works well.

Clean your boots!

We headed east on H-58, turning north on Chapel Road at Melstrand. Chapel Road is unpaved, and the recent rain had reconstructed the dirt road into a network of mud-filled ruts. At the Chapel / Mosquito trailhead, a notice warns visitors that some of the sandstone cliffs can reach 200 feet above Lake Superior and that the edges are unstable due to erosion and undercutting. A newly-installed boot brush encourages hikers to clean their boots before and after hiking to deter the transmission of invasive seeds. We began the short, 3.3-mile hike to Chapel Beach campground via Chapel Falls Trail at 10:00 am. The weather was sunny and warm, and there was no longer any sign of rain. Weather is unpredictable in this area, however, and we were aware that this could change at any moment.

Chapel Falls Trail

We enjoyed an easy, pleasant hike to Chapel Beach, stopping often to photograph things along the way. The path from the trailhead to Chapel is entirely in the woods; there are no cliff views during this stretch, but the forest displayed a lot of new growth, and made for an interesting walk. The trail skirts Chapel Falls, which is a pretty, 60-foot cascade down the side of a bluff that is partially obscured by trees and difficult to photograph. The path crosses Chapel Creek via a foot bridge upstream from the falls and provides views from near the top of the waterfall and from a viewing platform across the gorge. 

Just upstream from Chapel Falls

Starting out in short sleeves, it wasn't long before Andrea stopped to put on a long-sleeved shirt in an effort to thwart mosquitoes. The permethrin appeared to be working; scientific observation of each other's pant legs revealed far fewer mosquitoes landing on mine and staying there than on Andrea's.

New pine growth along the trail near Chapel Beach

We arrived at Chapel Beach campground just before noon and had to put our bug nets on as soon as we got there. The campground consists of six sites, which are in the woods at the top of a bluff above Lake Superior. One of them (#6) is at the edge of the woods, and it is close enough to the beach to benefit from the breeze coming from the lake. This site was already occupied, of course, so we chose site #3, which was further into the woods. Under normal circumstances, this would be a really good campsite, with Chapel Creek running alongside it creating a nice atmosphere. Unfortunately, the exceptionally wet spring had ensured that this typically buggy season far exceeded expectations. The word “brutal” doesn't quite do it justice – it was a buzzing hellscape. The only thing to do was to set up camp as quickly as possible and flee to the beach.

Our campsite at Chapel Beach

The tent was up in seconds, and we immediately began blowing up our sleeping pads. (Why did we pick this trip to test new, non-self-inflating mattresses?) I wheezed into mine as quickly as possible with the nozzle under my bug net – a piece of equipment I could not have been more grateful to own. Andrea took a picture of me during this time, which unfortunately turned out blurry, probably due to her hands being jostled around by thousands of attacking mosquitoes. Needless to say, the photograph is disturbing. I look like a demonic beekeeper. At one point, I turned around to get something from my pack, which I had leaned against a log, and found it engulfed in mosquitoes. They were everywhere - landing on the outside of the pack in droves, and crawling around inside of it like a sentient, rippling membrane seeking anything with a pulse.

Mosquitoes swarming around Andrea's head at our campsite

One of us threw everything in the tent that needed to go in there, while the other stood guard, waving her arms around the tent door in a feeble attempt to stop the insect influx. I don't remember which of us did what; it's all a blur. We grabbed the food and cooking supplies and ran for it.

Above Chapel Beach

After descending the bluff to collect water from the lake, we climbed back up to a flat, sandy area to filter the water and cook ramen noodles for lunch. The thought of going back into the woods to gather twigs for the Emberlit stove was not appealing, so we used the Jetboil and decided to hold off on field testing the twig burner for the time-being. 

Chapel Creek flows into Lake Superior just west of Chapel Rock. (3:06 pm)

Chapel Beach campground provides a bear pole and a bear-proof locker, making food storage extremely easy. We hung our food bag on the pole and decided what to do next. We obviously couldn't return to our campsite, and we had a lot of time left in the day. We

Chapel Rock (3:09 pm)

returned to the beach and walked to the spot where Chapel Creek flows into the lake just west of Chapel Rock. A new development since we were here last, a sign now asks people not to approach the rock formation and requires them to stay back a certain distance in order to slow erosion and help preserve the sandstone landmark.
 
We watched the occasional Pictured Rocks Cruise boat approach Chapel Rock at the end of its journey and turn around to return to Munising. In a perfect demonstration of the unpredictability of the weather near Lake Superior, at 3:00 pm it was sunny without a hint of change brewing. By 3:15, fog had rolled in, and we were engulfed in mist. The tour boats vanished from sight, and we could hear them blowing their horns out in the fog to alert other boats of their presence. 

A Pictured Rocks Cruise boat turns around in the fog at Chapel Rock (3:20 pm)

The sun burned the fog away, but another wave of it rolled in directly afterwards. We decided to hike east along the trail, past Chapel Rock and out to Spray Falls, which is about a mile and a half away. Spray Falls drops 70 feet off a cliff into Lake Superior and can be seen from the top of another cliff that acts as a natural viewing platform a little further east of the waterfall.

Spray Falls

The fog continued to roll in, burn away, and roll in again as we returned to Chapel Beach. We made dinner on the beach in order to continue avoiding mosquitoes. It was a shame that the campsite wasn't used, but on the other hand, the beach was an even better spot to spend our time. Periodically, we heard a booming sound that sounded like the rumble of distant thunder, but it was actually the sound of waves echoing inside a series of narrow, rocky coves just to the west called Battleship Row. 

Fog lingers in the coves of Battleship Row

We cooked Chilimac (Mary Jane's Farm Outpost) and watched the sky darken. It looked like it was going to storm, but the clouds blew over us and were replaced by a dark wall of fog that moved toward us from the lake. The occasional horn could still be heard from cruise boats that continued going back and forth along the circuit. We wondered why they were still out on the water and if the tourists on them could actually see anything. It would definitely be a unique and erie experience. The fog was cool for us to witness, but the kayaker who approached us and asked to look at our trail map was not very impressed. We watched as he and another kayaker beached their kayaks. They had camped at Little Beaver Lake and were paddling west toward Miner's Beach, but the fog had stranded them. Now that it looked like the fog was here to stay, they were making the decision to hike back to their camp. It was getting dark by this time, so it was unlikely to be a pleasant hike even without the mosquito situation.

A dark wall of fog moves in

At the end of the day, I think I had just as many, if not more mosquito bites than Andrea, so the permethrin results are inconclusive, which is disappointing. The reason I don't consider it a failure is because I'm not sure that I can consider the conditions typical. We had eventually sprayed deet on our hands, which were the only things not covered by clothing or bug nets, but not before each of us had received several mosquito bites on our palms and fingers. I counted 6 on my left palm alone. We strategized a way to get back to our campsite and into the tent as quickly as possible, and we organized our gear on the beach, getting everything ready ahead of time that we might need, and climbing up and away from the water and back into the woods to clean up from dinner.

Chapel Creek flows into Lake Superior. A boat hides in the fog.

We stashed our food in the bear-proof locker on the way back to the tent and dove in. Without exaggeration, the buzzing of mosquitoes outside the tent was louder than the sound of Chapel Creek rippling by just a few feet away, which was slightly disturbing. Eventually the mosquitoes quieted down enough so that we could enjoy the sound of the stream and the lake's surf. I attempted to read for a little while, but fell asleep quickly, dreaming that a bad storm blew in and park rangers were walking around in the dark, securing everyone's tents with extra stakes to keep people from blowing away.

To be continued in Day 2: Chapel to Mosquito