Our First Trip…..

My love for this reserve began instantly. During my first trip, I suffered from hunger, pain, exhaustion and mental breakdown. We had planned on traveling about 15 miles per day, even the first day off the boat. The boat ride was 4 ½ hours long, and we hit the trail somewhere in the mid afternoon. This was our first true backpacking experience.

One of my friends didn’t have a real backpack, and instead brought a camouflage backpack without a waist strap or any structural support. His two pots (we all brought our own pots) he tied to the back of his backpack, and they clanked together. In his backpack he had canned sardines, Spam, and canned beans. His sleeping bag was tied with a string and dangled loosely from his backpack.

Another one of my comrades brought a cotton sleeping bag. It was an inch think, and a little too short for him, but the sentimental value outweighed any real discomfort of freezing his butt off. Or at least, that’s what he wanted us to believe.

I had a normal backpack and a nice sleeping bag, although I didn’t bring a sleeping mat. The ground seemed to suck the heat out of me, even with my 10-degree mummy bag. In my backpack I brought 10 servings of ramen noodles. No canned food. I knew better than that. Instead I brought a 3 celled Maglite flashlight. I think it weighted about 5lbs. I also brought two potatoes.

Our first day was the worst day backpacking in my life. Little did we know the average hiker hiked about 2 ½ miles per hour. Our plans to hike 14 miles to McCargo Cove was a feet that was beyond our ability at the time. We didn’t understand that it was beyond our ability, and hiked until we nearly dropped. We made it 11 miles with backpacks that probably weighed 60lbs each. We couldn’t go another mile and we camped 3 miles away from out goal.

The next day was one of the top ten worst days of backpacking. We hiked 3 miles to McCargo Cove and called it quits for the day. In fact, we called it quits for the next 3 days to recover. During this time, our food supply quickly began to dwindle. My ramens proved to be inadequate as a food source, and it took 2 of them to make me feel as though I had even eaten anything. Sadly, all of us had brought ramens, thinking one would be a meal.

Our water pump began to fail miserably and it took all our strength to force the handle down and pump water. The quality of the water was suspect.

We split the trip up after our rest period. Hiking halfway back to Moskey Basin. The Moskey was full by the time we got there, and we had to pitch our tent in a group site with other campers. (Usually you get shelters, or your own site.) Or food supply was so reduce that when someone offered us half an onion my friends jumped on it. Next to us were a couple of guys and one if their young sons. They brought a little plastic container of oil and stir fried up vegetables. We had to pretend like we were satisfied with our pathetic ramens.

The night before we left, we had almost no food. I had potatoes left and white rice. I sliced the potatoes up and fried them up over low heat with some water and garlic powder. I got them cooked nicely and thoroughly and used some salt and pepper on them. I allowed my friends taste them, and even to this day Jeff tells me they were the best potatoes he’d ever had. Hunger does strange things to people.

My friend cooked up the rice and lentils and added a chicken bouillon cube to it. I didn’t eat any, because of the chicken. They didn’t eat much of it because of the lentils. Eventually I convinced one of my friends to run into the store at Rock Harbor, 3 miles away. We bought junk food. Luckily I bought two apples also. The junk food made me sick, but the apples seemed to make it mostly go away.

Our last day we hiked in the 3 miles and ate at the snack bar. I had about 5 orders of french fries. Again, I was sick for awhile afterwards. Eventually, we climbed back on the boat, tired, hungry for some normal food and ready to go home. The next 6 hours was the hardest. All you want is something to eat that you hadn’t had on the island. Peanut butter, or a salad with a vinaigrette, or french fries. You have about 5 hours of the boat ride to think about it, and then another hour or two before you can find someplace that might sell what you crave.

Once you find it, you eat it and the craving is gone. Your enlightenment on food perishes with this satisfied craving. Whereas moments ago you could imagine a hundred finely dress dishes and how important food is too you, now you just have mild gas and the desire for rest.

Why would anyone love backpacking after an experience like that? I’d say most people probably wouldn’t. It seemed to grab me though. Something about having a thinner line between luxury and danger. One less barrier between my savage tribal self and the clothing society places on my back. It isn’t taming the wilderness. It is making the anemic self admit the wilderness is only wild because I no longer am remotely considered wild.

The Journey of the Year 1999…..

The culmination of five years of hiking showed in our last hiking trip to the island. Our first adventure on the island was a tribute to spirit. We did as well as we could. None of us had any family members who backpacked. We had no friends who backpacked. Camping in our town was done out the car or truck at some state campground near a river with pumps for water. It is amazing that we even made it to the Island, much less hiked as miles as we did and came back for more.

Over the years, only Jeff and I returned more than twice. And I’ll retell a portion of the trip, to highlight the difference between a group of kids who knew nothing and thought the island was trying to kill them, and a couple of men who felt at home on the island.

We decided to take the extra long drive to Grand Portage Minnesota so we could finally see the Western End of the Island. Our plans were to take an easy hike on the island and not hike more than 35 or 40 miles. We had seven days.

The boat ride was a breeze. 3 hours seemed like a walk in the park compared to the 4 ½ we were used to when we the Copper Harbor Ferry. The boat is good for you, even if it makes you want to throw your stomach overboard. It builds the anticipation and the desire to get off and onto the trail starts burning into your feet. At times you almost think it would be faster to swim.

Our first day, we got off the ferry, did the routine of permits and orientation, and hit the trail to Feldtmann Lake. It was an easy 9 miles and we knocked it down at a smooth 2 ½ to 3 miles an hour. Feldtmann was serene and quiet. The loons on the lake made us wish we had great cameras with 1000x magnification. But, we had to be content to just sit back and listen. It wasn’t hard.

The Feldtmann ridge was a great hike with vistas of inland lakes and Lake Superior. It was great. At Siskiwit we were a little disappointed not getting a shelter. It was the only place we planned on visiting that would have shelters. We found a nice site that made it seem like we had the campground to ourselves. I found a nice tree on the short as a seat that hung over the water. Jeff took a picture of my food stash that would have fed a small army of sumo wrestlers. I like to eat.

Island Mine the actually mine was fun and we happily played among all the tailings and wreckage. Island Mine the campsite wasn’t too exciting. It was hard to get used to a campsite that wasn’t near a lake. South Desor was only 11 ½ miles away. 4 hours later we landed safely at South Desor. 16 miles in one day and we felt pretty good about it.

Hatchet Lake looked great, so we figured we’d head out to Hatchet Lake, and then spend a day resting and then head back to Windigo across the Greenstone. Hatchet Lake however, was a disappointment. We sat down for lunch and we both realized that we had lots of energy left and we could find a more exciting place to camp. We’d just hiked 8 or 9 miles. So, we ate lunch and took a nice long break. Decided on a new route. 7.8 miles later we landed in the beautiful Little Todd Harbor. After a long day, we deserved the beautiful Harbor, we earned it. We calculated we hiked about 19 miles with detours into and out of Hatchet Lake.

The next day we hiked to North Desor. It seemed like a long 6 miles or so. At first North Desor was deserted, but the three sites filled up quickly and we eventually shared our site with a couple from Michigan. They looked like us on our first trip! Although they’d hike the island quite a few times, they couldn’t give up their food addiction. I must say I was impressed when they pulled out a couple of pasties and warmed them up. However, I stopped being impressed when they pulled out a cheese grader in the morning to grade on their egg burritos along with their mini-espresso maker.

The gentleman admitted that his wife’s pack weighted 55lbs. She was carrying all the gear. I asked how much his weighted, and he said “It is like Bill Clinton’s military policy: Don’t ask, don’t tell.” I surmised it weighed 65lbs. They were great people, but their packs took a toll on them. Luckily they had prepared for this. Mixing some rum 151 with some tang and water they each popped about 2-3 ibuprofen and sat back to relax while drinking the rum.

The crazy part was that they just hiked the hardest part of the island on the first day after flying in on a sea-plane. Almost 13 miles of hard trail with 55-65lbs packs on. I’d have drank the whole bottle of rum after that venture, even though I’m a teetotaler.

Well, the next day we departed, finally ready to tackle the rest of the Minong Ridge. The famous Minong. Or Infamous Minong. Depending on the source. It lived up to the reputation it had developed. It was great. I fell into a beaver pond. Only up to my knee, but it give me a fright. I fell again trying to leap about 5 feet across a muddy spot with a heavy backpack on. I landed where I meant to, however, the boards were slick and I wiped it good. I’m sure it could have been a bad situation, but I’m like a hairy mountain goat and just laughed it off.

I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a very long 14 miles that day. We finally got on the trail going northwest to Huginnin Cove and it seemed like every turn would be the campground. That was the longest part of the trip. But, it paid off when we finally did get to Huginnin. It was another beautiful site. We thought we got the worse campsite, right near the bridge and the trail, but it turned out to be great. I split my toe open on a rock and it bled pretty badly. We didn’t have band aids or anything, so I just walked around without one letting it bleed and dry. It was actually quite fun. I knew the hike out the next day wouldn’t be though.

It turned out fine. We used some tissue to wrap around it and I put a double layer of socks on. I took the lead via Jeff’s suggestion so we wouldn’t hike too fast. I was excited to get the last few miles of trail done and we sped our way back. My toe just turned into a dull throb that was easily ignored. We arrived safely and enjoyed hanging out at the visitor’s center until the boat left. And, it was, without a doubt one of the more exciting and invigorating Isle Royale trip.

We totaled around 71 miles, plus another 10 miles in day hikes. That was about 10 miles of trails per day, including the first and last days that were only half days on the trail because of the boat schedules. To say we’ve come a long way from our first trip to Isle Royale would be an understatement.

Finally, we can say we belong on Isle Royale. We’ve earned our self-respect.