Days 16-20

Day 16

I didn’t sleep nearly enough. We went to bed at ten, but at one, I was still trying to fall asleep. Our alarms went off at a quarter after four so that we could get up to Copper Harbor in time for our ferry. I don’t feel well. I have a cough and a scratchy throat. Add to that a great deal of tiredness from not sleeping. I don’t know how I’m going to hike three plus miles today. It’s going to be a challenge.

Even thought it’s Superior and it’s huge, it’s not an ocean. And thankfully, while bad weather is in the forecast for tomorrow, today it’s only cloudy so the water is calm. Two hours into the ferry ride, and my stomach is holding strong. Still I’m glad I chose not to eat breakfast. We found seats downstairs where no one else seems to want to sit, so I was able to lay down and take a short nap. I think it helped. G3 and I did go outside periodically to feel the wind in our faces. But since we have left shore, we have been cocooned in fog.

I have never found the National Park Service to be so cold, cruel, not accommodating. We came here to Isle Royal because it was Kati’s dream to be here. Her knee injury could not have come at a worse time. But the last thing she wanted to do was stay on the mainland. She knew that in the campsites close to the Rock Harbor there is a one night stay policy. But she also knew there were water taxies, so her plan was to take a taxi daily and meet up with us.

The problem was, booking so late she might not be able to get a seat. Upon arriving at the island, we had to meet with a ranger for a brief orientation on “leave no trace”, and basic wilderness survival, all things the average Boy Scout knows. After that, we had to meet individually with a ranger to get a camping permit. The process was easy. But you did need to know your itinerary. G3 and I were going to stick to the itinerary we had laid out when Kati was coming. Kati, however, was unsure because it depended on the water taxi availability. The first ranger she spoke to was kind. He said due to the circumstances, they would work with her about maybe being allowed to stay in sites more than one consecutive night. But he had to clear it with his boss. Ranger Katie was nasty. She told Kati, “You knew the rules and you still chose to come.” Like she was going to reimburse her for the money spent to get here. I don’t think so. She refused to bend the rules. She refused to write out a permit until Kati booked the water taxi. So Kati hobbled to the lodge to inquire about rooms and water taxis. No rooms were available, but Kati could put her name on a waiting list tomorrow. As for the taxis, the person who could log in and check was in a meeting. Kati was told she had to wait. Needless to say, she was hurt and angry.

I wanted to wait with her, but she knew G3 was excited and eager to begin trekking. She told me to take him and make sure he had a good time. We hugged her goodbye and headed out. We are hoping to see her tomorrow. Fingers crossed there will be a vacancy on the water taxi heading to the campground we plan to trek to.

The hike was relatively easy. As easy as it could be carrying 38 pounds on my back. G3 carried 36. He walked like his bag was filled with feathers. I did not. The Tobin Harbor Trail was practically flat and well traveled. It cut through forest terrain with views of the lake to our right. It was pretty, but not nearly as breathtaking as Pukaskwa. If Kati hadn’t gotten injured, she’d have had little trouble with the 3.7 miles that we covered.

When we got to Three Mile Campground, all the regular campsites and shelters were full. We ended up in an overflow site which meant we’d most likely have to share. Oh well, that’s life. We picked the two best places to set up our tents, got them up and then headed down to the water for a swim. The water was warm, but the beach was very rocky. I didn’t stay in long because I still feel like I’m getting sick. The last thing I wanted was to catch a chill that might not leave me. G3 stayed in a bit longer and then wanted to go back to the campsite.

While there, a group of four trudged into the site and started setting up. They have absolutely no regard for personal space. They set their tents up right on top of me. It’s like beach blankets at the Jersey shore, except there was space to spread out. I asked them not to get so close to me. They said they weren’t. How inconsiderate and rude can people be. One woman placed here tent less than two feet from mine. Seriously, I’ll be able to hear her breathing at night—or worse if she snores. Hopefully, my coughing will keep her up. As I was getting frustrated by their inability to space themselves out, we caught sight of a wolf through the trees. He moved too quickly for me to get a picture.

To get away from the site snatchers, G3 suggested we head back down to the lake. He wanted to go for another swim. I advised against it since there have been many cases of swimmers itch in the area. I figured one short dip was enough. But he insisted, wanting to jump off the dock. I told him I didn’t want to hear him complain if he ended up itchy. He said he wouldn’t. He got swimmers itch three years ago in Montana. He survived it then. He’d survive it again. He really seemed to have fun jumping off the dock and I enjoyed watching him act like a kid.

Isle Royal is the least visited National Park in the contiguous US, but you wouldn’t know it from the crowded campground. The western half of the island is more isolated than the east where we are. The campgrounds are also spaced further from each other. That’s why we came to this end. The trek was intended to be doable for Kati. I am enjoying my time here with G3, but I am honestly not terribly impressed with the island. I’ve been to prettier National Parks. G3 even commented that Houghton Falls in Wisconsin is prettier. And that’s just a swimming spot. Oh, and the smell of outhouses in the campground is nauseating. you can’t walk without smelling it. At least our site isn’t smelly.

The people in our campsite came over to chat. They are from the lower part of Michigan and they are avid hunters. They said this is the first time they’ve gone backpacking. Mostly, they hike in conjunction with hunting. When they weren’t busy invading my space, they were rather friendly..

At dusk, G3 asked me to go sit with him down by the dock. I was happy to go and keep him company. We sat down, looking at the moon reflected off the lake. No one else was down by the water. I very much enjoy these quiet moments with G3. As a motorboat passed, G3 got the bright idea to flash SOS. I told him to stop. Of course he didn’t listen. The boat actually stopped, turned around, and drove up to ask if we were okay. G3 was mortified. Maybe next time he will listen to me.

Day 17

I had another bad night. My cough is worse and it kept waking me up. I bet the woman who set her tent up so close to me regretted that decision. If Kati hadn’t bought me NyQuil in the trading post and insisted I bring it with me, I wouldn’t have gotten any sleep at all.

My alarm went off at 6 and I had to swim out of my NyQuil delirium. I was so out of it. It was so hard. My body felt heavy and I was incredibly tired. But G3 wanted an insanely early departure. Yesterday, there were bad storms in the forecast for today. Therefore, we wanted to secure a shelter—screened in lean-to—for this evening. That way we could keep ourselves and our gear dry. The shelters, like the campsites are first come, first serve. The earlier we got in, the better our chances were.

There were two ways to Daisy Farm: a longer seven mile in land hike and a shorter 4.2 mile hike. Due to the expected storms and our desire to get a shelter, we took the shorter Harbor Trail. G3 was so driven to get a site, he wanted to be hiking by seven o’clock. To leave on time, he skipped breakfast, saying we could eat when we got to Daisy Farms. I wasn’t hungry so it was okay with me. The plan was to walk three miles together, and then, if G3 wanted, he could go ahead and secure a shelter. At such an early hour, I didn’t think we would have a problem, but I didn’t want to be wrong and risk getting wet tonight, especially since I am sick. However, about two miles into our hike, we encountered a group heading in the opposite direction.

They said they had just vacated shelter number 11 and we were the first people they had run into along the way. G3 was off like a bullet, intent on securing the site. He didn’t want to risk anyone passing us along the way and snagging it.

The trail out of Three Mile was over rock face. There was a bit of up and down, but nothing too challenging. After a mile, it gave way to a forestry dirt trail, littered with rocks and roots which slowed my pace. I didn’t want to sprain an ankle. It was relatively flat with no elevation gain that I really noticed. Again, if we had done this hike first, Kati wouldn’t have had much difficulty. We began our hike as the sun broke through the horizon. Its reflection on the lake was pretty. In fact, the landscape tinted with the early morning orangish hue from the sunrise was the prettiest part of the trek. Walking through the forest, I could have been anywhere. But I did have a view of the lake to my left the entire way and the sound of the ripples kept me company after G3 raced ahead.

It took me two hours and twenty minutes to hike 4.2 miles. G3 said he got here in less than two hours. Instead of site 11, he snagged 13. It doesn’t matter which one provided we can stay dry. Now, watch it not rain. I am now sitting on the dock awaiting the water taxi and hoping that Kati will be on it.

It is twenty after twelve and the campground is practically deserted. We did not have to get here so early. There has been no water taxi. Maybe it only runs after the ferry gets in. I wish I had a way to communicate with Kati. G3 has been napping for almost two hours. I hope he isn’t getting sick. I’ve been reading. I too would probably benefit from a nap, but between my cough and trying to keep an eye and ear out for the water taxi, sleep isn’t possible.

G3 and I went down to the dock when he woke up. We sat together gazing off in the distance watching to see if a boat would appear. When he got hungry, he went back to the shelter to bring us food. And still we waited. Finally, a little after two the taxi appeared and Kati was the only passenger on board. She was happy to see us since it had been a lonely night in Rock Harbor alone.

Yesterday, once she booked her water taxi to and from Daisy Farm, Ranger Katie finally wrote out her permit, begrudging granting her two days in Rock Harbor campground if she was unable to get at least one night in the lodge. She then headed off to secure a campsite, and once her tent was pitched, she went to the restaurant and got herself a much deserved glass of wine.

The weather is turning. Clouds are rolling in and the wind is kicking up, churning the water. It’s getting chilly and starting to feel like rain. I think G3 is bored. He got swimmer’s itch. That plus the impending storm is keeping him out of the water. We got here so early and there’s nothing to do but talk and read, and he doesn’t want to do either. I, as always, am happy to read.

The rain finally hit around six thirty.

We ate dinner in the shelter and G3 came to life joking around and appearing to look happy. We all crawled into our sleeping bags early and read for a long while before going to sleep.

Last evening, Kati went to a ranger program. Currently, there are wolves and moose on the island. The moose is one of the reasons Kati wanted to come here. She has been on a long quest to see a moose. Anyway, once upon a time—she didn’t take notes so she didn’t have specific dates—there were only moose but no wolves. Having no natural predator and not alway enough food, the moose became smaller here than on the mainland. Then somehow, one day—perhaps one winter over the ice from Ontario—wolves appeared. In order to defend themselves against these wolves, the moose needed more mass. They began to grow. They are still smaller than the moose on the mainland, but they are getting bigger. If wolves had never appeared, the moose on Isle Royal would be mini-moose, and it’s likely they would have become a subspecies.

Day 18

My gosh, the wind blew heavily over night. It sounded angry. And the rain lashed at the shelter. I am so glad we weren’t only in tents. If we hadn’t been, I probably wouldn’t have slept. I’d have been worried about the tent leaking. Thanks to NyQuil, I got some sleep. But I still woke myself frequently with my cough. My throat is in agony. G3 changed our trekking route yesterday to see a bit more of the Island. Seven miles with the way I feel will be hard. First though, we have to take Kati back to the water taxi. She is being picked up at 9.

I carried Kati’s pack and walked her to the dock to catch her taxi. G3 and I then set off on the Ojibwa Trail which was 1.7 miles, mostly a gradual uphill. The rain had stopped, but a dense fog had settled over the island. Plus everything was wet from the storm. The Ojibwa Trail cut inland, away from Superior. It was a dirt path, but the forest changed as we gained elevation. There were fewer trees and more bushes and shrubs. Sorry, my knowledge of flora is poor so I can’t even tell you what we saw. We hoped we might see a moose but luck was not with us. Actually, the fog prevented us from seeing much of anything. Oh well, the fog was frustrating, but I was grateful it didn’t rain. I’ll take fog over rain any day. At the end of the Ojibwa Trail there was an observation tower, and hanging out by the tower was a red fox. We didn’t waste our time climbing the tower because we wouldn’t have been able to see through the fog.

At the intersection of the Greenstone Ridge trail, we turned right. The ridge might have been pretty on a clear day, but we could only see a few feet in front of us. The trail is less traveled so there is more overgrowth that we trudged through and everything was wet because of the rain. We had hardly gone a mile on the trail when my feet became saturated. Obviously, they are no longer waterproof which means it’s time for new ones. From the ridge, we heard wolves howling in the distance, plus we saw relatively recent wolf tracks in the mud, but we didn’t actually see any wolves. The trail was relatively flat, so we cruised along for 2.8 miles until the intersection of the next trail. Turning right would have taken us back to three mile. That had been my original plan. Yesterday, G3 suggested that we go to Lane Cove instead so that we could see more of Isle Royal. I was all for that. Seeing more is alway preferable, plus I didn’t exactly care for Three Mile campground.

So at the intersection, we turned left onto the Lane Cove trail—2.4 more miles to go. The trail immediately plugged down a steep hill. I am not looking forward to the hike back up tomorrow morning. Much of the trail was downhill, though there were a few flat and uphill stretches.

In total, Daisy Farm to Lane Cove is 6.9 miles and it took us four hours and fifteen minutes to get here. There are no shelters, but when we arrived no one else was here so we had our choice of campsites. G3 walked into number three, the first one we reached. It’s right on the water. Hopefully, another storm will not roll in today.

We reached camp around 1:15. By 2:15, we had rested and set up our tents. By 3:15, G3 announced that he was going to take a nap. He’s bored again. I am sitting on a makeshift bench—part of a fallen tree—and reading. It’s still foggy and cold.

I didn’t last long on the bench. I too retreated into my tent for a bit of warmth. Yeah, a tent isn’t warm, but it’s warmer than sitting in the damp breeze. In my tent, I continued to read Maybe Someday, a sapphic story that I find more infuriating than enjoyable. We ate dinner early and then slipped back into our tents. I feel bad G3 is bored, but I don’t mind some calm time to read. From my tent, I can hear Superior lapping at the shore. As always it’s soothing and comforting.

Day 19

It rained overnight. Just a little, but enough that we have to pack up wet tents. Wet tents mean they will be heavier. Heavier tents mean a harder hike. I didn’t sleep well. I went to bed and took NyQuil early—too early—which meant I was wide awake a two in the morning. Perhaps that wouldn’t have been too bad, except I was constantly coughing, giving myself a headache and irritating my already sore throat.

We were on the trail by 7:33 this morning. I knew the second half of the Lane Cove trail was going to be a challenging uphill. The last mile or so consisted of steep switchbacks. But it wasn’t quite as grueling as I expected. The difficulty was in my breathing. Every time I took a deep breath, I erupted into a coughing fit. Coughing exasperated my headache and my sore throat. I haven’t had a cough this bad since COVID. It took us only 75 minutes to traverse 2.4 miles and reach the Mt. Franklin Trail. The mosquitoes were ruthless. We doused ourselves in Deet but it didn’t deter them at all. The fog lifted, but it was still cloudy.

The Mount Franklin Trail was only 1.5 miles. It was a mostly gentle downhill that took just under an hour to hike. Just before the Tobin Harbor turn off, there was nice view of the lake below. A hint of what we might have missed yesterday due to the fog. While we hiked, G3 talked enthusiastically about IT which he started reading this summer. He was comparing what he read to the movies he has watched.

To cut our distance to Rock Harbor by nearly a mile, we took the Tobin Harbor Trail to the Suzy’s Cave turn off which took us to the Rock Harbor Trail. It was supposed to be the more scenic of the two options so I did want to hike at least part of it. Once we got to the Tobin Harbor Trail, the mosquitoes dropped off—finally—and left us alone.

The Rock Harbor trail was pretty, definitely the better option in regard to scenery, but not nearly as gorgeous as Pukaskwa. We arrived in Rock Harbor at 11:45. Only four hours and fifteen minutes to go 7.1 miles. Not bad, considering I was not feeling all that well. We went to our planned rendezvous place with Kati but we got there earlier than expected so she was not yet there. I left my pack with G3 and circled back to the shelters. I found the one with Kati’s tent and pack, but she wasn’t there. On my way back to the Harbor, I ran into her and G3 heading my way. Kati has her name on the waiting list for the lodge, but she won’t know if she has a room until 5:00.

Kati’s drama continued yesterday. We left Kati on the dock to catch her 9:00 water taxi. We had no doubts that she would safely be back in Rock Harbor within the hour. We were wrong. Two hours she waited on the cold, foggy, windy dock waiting for a taxi—that she paid for—that never came. When she booked it, they did not give her any conditions or warnings that it might not show up due to inclement weather. And considering the storms had stopped, none of us even assumed that the taxi might strand her.

Well, after two hours of waiting, a ranger boat showed up to take three friends from Daisy Farm to Three Mile. It seems one of the women over taxed herself and couldn’t carry her pack four miles over relatively flat, easy terrain. Kati begged a ride with Ranger Carrie, figuring an injury was a good enough reason to need a ride. But Ranger Carrie was just as Grinch-ish as Ranger Katie. She didn’t want to take Kati because, in her view, there was no reason for Kati to not spend another day at Daisy Farm. Especially since there is a one night stay rule in effect for Rock Harbor campground. Well, for one she had no food since G3 and I took the Jet Boil. At that, Ranger Carrie lectured Kati about how wrong it was for her family to abandon her in the wilderness. First off, we didn’t abandon her. We took her to meet her taxi. Secondly, how wilderness is it really if there are water taxis and rangers picking people up who can’t carry their packs? Anyway, after some back and forth, Ranger Carrie agreed to take Kati back to Rock Harbor.

However, once returning, Ranger Carrie harassed Kati regarding her itinerary. She told Kati she was not allowed to spend two nights at Rock Harbor campground because rules are rules and must be followed. Kati explained what she had already been through with Ranger Katie, but Ranger Carrie still felt the need to berate Kati for wanting to come to the island with her family despite having an injury. Seriously, we’ve been traveling to National Parks for many summers now and I’ve never experienced rangers who were so nasty and cruel. Kati spent months planning this trip and buying the proper equipment for it. She had G3 excited about coming here. Cancelling the trip was not an option. I don’t understand why the rangers can’t comprehend that. In the past, National Parks have always been so family friendly.

G3 and I dropped our things off in the shelter Kati claimed and I hung my tent to dry. On the way back to the harbor we started talking to a guy who was searching for a shelter. We told him he could have ours if we get the lodge. He told us he comes here every ten years and it’s never been this crowded. A ranger told him that ever since COVID, the number of people visiting the island has increased. Before that, you really did feel like you left civilization behind. He first came to this island with his Boy Scout Troop. He grew up in Michigan and his troop went to some really cool places to trek instead of focusing on summer camp. They came here, and they went to Picture Rock National Lake Shore, Pukaskwa, and other places. It sounds like his troop did cooler things and went to more interesting places than G3’s troop.

We ate lunch in the snack bar, and then G3 and Kati went to the guesthouse to play Monopoly. I decided to sit outside in the shade to write. When I sat down, I was alone. Five minutes later a group of guys sat down. They are complaining that they are stranded on the islands because the seaplanes are not running. From what I’ve heard, there is a storm over on the Keweenaw Peninsula which is preventing planes from flying. Rich people’s problems. They need to get home, but they chose to take the less reliable—but more expensive and more comfortable—mode of transportation. Ultimately, the ferry—while it too occasionally won’t run due to weather—is the better option. The men are also complaining that they can’t even rent a boat—of any variety—because of the weather. It doesn’t seem bad if you look out a window. There is a bit of blue in the sky. But outside there is a strong wind that is affecting conditions on the water. They are bored because they can’t do any of the pricey activities they planned to do. Backpackers don’t have these problems. We camp and trek rain or shine. We get wet. We get dirty. We might push through miserable conditions. But we don’t get rained out or grounded due to wind.

When I finished writing, G3 and Kati were still playing National Parks Monopoly, so I grabbed my book and read by the lake.

Kati woke up early to put her name on the waitlist for a room in the lodge. At exactly 5:00, a woman emerged from the office asking if the Jaeger party was present. We were and we got a room. Once G3 and I knew we could shower, change out of wet clothes, and get warm we jumped into Superior for one last swim in my favorite lake. It was divine…and I would have stayed in until my body started to shiver, but I did not want swimmers itch. So as lovely as it was, I cut my swim short and went to take a shower.

Once we were clean and no longer stinky—Kati felt the need to remind us that we did not smell like flowers when we got off the trail—we went to the restaurant to eat real, non-dehydrated food for dinner. I ate walleye fish that was caught in superior.

It was delicious, but I was just as excited about the fresh vegetables. Kati and G3 ate chicken piccata. I’m not sure they enjoyed dinner as much as I did.

Following dinner, we sat outside by the lake to enjoy the calm, peaceful evening. Kati and I shared a bottle of red wine and G3 drank a soda. We chatted pleasantly with two guys from Michigan who came here to fish for a week. They were lucky enough to see a moose out where they were camping. They missed their ferry today because the water taxi was unable to pick them up yesterday and today the weather was still bad enough to cause four food swells on the lake. The taxi got them, but couldn’t navigate the waters quickly enough. They are hoping to get back to mainland tomorrow.

Overall, I am underwhelmed with Isle Royal. It is not the wilderness everything we read promised it would be. Once you start flying seaplanes in and built a lodge and restaurant to cater to a different class, you lose some of that wilderness. It should have remained a backpacker paradise, where only those willing to rough it could visit. If I could only have done one trek this summer, without hesitation, I’d choose Pukaskwa. I think Kati said she would as well.

I am feeling worse. Tonight, I have the chills. Tomorrow we return to the mainland. When we get home Kati and I might very well have a date to the doctor to check out her knee and my cough.

Day 2O

Two or three bad coughing fits woke me in the night, but in between I was able to get some sleep. The window of our room overlooks the lake so I was able to listen to the water all night. It helped me fall back to sleep each time I woke up. The coughing though is killing my head. I’ve taken so much Advil but my headache won’t go away.

Kati’s knee, ironically now that the trekking is over, is better. The swelling has gone down so that it looks almost normal and she is walking much better on flat ground.

We take the ferry back to the mainland this afternoon. Kati and G3 are still sleeping. I am lingering in bed because of my headache. I think I will try to read.

We checked out of the lodge and then went to sit by the lake to read. There wasn’t much else to do until 11:30–especially with my head still hurting—when we went to the Ranger talk about moose.

On the island, there are 30 wolves and 800 moose. It is disappointing that with these numbers, G3 and I saw a wolf but not a moose. There, however, is not enough food for the wolf pack on the eastern end of the island. That’s why they’ve started to penetrate the campsites.

Moose have fabulous peripheral vision and can almost see all around their heads. This aids their ability to detect predators—wolves. A bull moose weighs up to 1000 pounds; their antlers can weigh 30 pounds. A bull moose burns about 1/3 of the calories they ingest to grow their antlers. Therefore, the bigger the antlers, the healthier the moose. Rarely, but on occasion, antlers can get tangled in a fight. If the moose can’t free themselves from each other they will die of starvation.

When cow moose are around eleven and bull moose around nine, their teeth show signs of being worn down. At that point, their jaws start emitting a smell that wolves can detect up to a mile away. Up to a quarter of the moose on the island suffer from arthritis of the hip. This causes them to limp and eventually end up eaten by a wolf.

Following the talk, my head was feeling better so while G3 and Kati had a rematch of Monopoly, I took a short hike along the Stoll Trail. I didn’t have time to get to the end and back, but I did get to explore a little more of the coast. Dirt gave way to rock face as I watched the lake roll up and crash on the rocks. It was a quiet and peaceful walk alone with my thoughts. After today, we begin our journey back to New Jersey. I am not looking forward to returning. My discontent in the state seems to grow, a constant reminder that things don’t happen the way we envision them when we are younger. In the stillness, I sensed that this year will not be easy. Maybe I’m just sick and need sleep, but it’s as if there were voices warning me. This year will start out with lots of change and some difficulty, but 2025 should bring better things—I already know that my COVID memoir will be published that year.

Oh Superior, why have you forsaken me. I thought you loved me. But I suppose that’s just the illusion of love. You love something hard enough and somehow expect some of that love to be reflected back to you. The last time I was so violently ill from being on a boat was when I was in Australia and decided it would be a brilliant idea to go scuba diving. The winds today continued to be strong, so intense they kicked up the water so the lake felt like an ocean. We weren’t even moving five minutes when I had to lay down. Kati immediately got up to get me Dramamine, but before it could take effect I asked Kati to get me a puke bag. Sitting up like a shot, I threw up repeatedly into it. I heaved until my stomach was empty and then I lay back down for three plus hours of pure misery. By the time the boat docked, my headache had returned and my throat hurt worse than ever.

We are back in a hotel. I think I may be too sick to camp. I can’t stop coughing. Kati and G3 went out for dinner but I stayed behind. I asked Kati to please bring me a salad to eat in the room. She is also going to see if she can get me some nighttime mucinex in hope that I can get some relief from the cough and maybe some sleep as well.