Day 60: Long Island -……. BAYFIELD!!!

Woke up at the crack of dawn, had everything packed and ready to go in record time, and was paddling across to Madeline Island as the mornings grey, overcast sky started to brighten. The paddle began with a headwind blowing out of the northwest, but by the time I had made it to Pt Defroid and begun the two mile cross over to Bayfield the wind completely died, leaving behind a calm, silvery Lake Superior. Then, I made it to Bayfield. It’s really hard to describe the feeling, or rather the chill, that swept over me as Roark ran ashore on the beach at Bayfield, and even though I still had three miles to go before arriving at the ramp where this trip all began, pulling ashore at Bayfield marked the end of the adventure and the achieving of a moment that I had been dreaming of for over three years. It was a lot to take in, and instead of the intense feeling of pride and excitement that I thought I would feel, I really just felt kind of shocked that it was all over, and honestly sort of didn’t know what to do with myself (felt like I blew a fuse or something). I changed out of my wetsuit, headed to town, bought a gooey cinnamon roll from the bakery, and then just sat on a bench for awhile. Spent some time in a coffee shop, then moved to an Irish pub across the street (where I had the usual burger and a beer), then back to the coffee shop where I tried to write the last few blog posts I had left but (as is obvious by the fact that they came a day late..) had trouble focusing and eventually just gave up. Bought a collection of poems by Robert Service at a sweet used book shop, and then after calling my parents and figuring out a pick-up plan, loaded up Roark and paddled 3mi farther down to camp on Basswood Island (literally directly across from where I started) until my ride home arrives on the 19th.

So that’s that, I think that I maybe will write one more post to wrap everything up and try to better describe the actual moment of arriving at the ramp where it all began (that is sitting literally 1 mile away from where I’m writing this post!) when I get home and can use my computer again (I’ve got to say you guys are all lucky that this tablet is so hard/frustrating to type on, had I been using a keyboard all trip my posts would have been three times as long and rambly!), but other then that the adventures of this trip are just about wrapped up! Thanks to everyone whose been reading the blog, and really just to everyone that has supported me along the way. If nothing else this trip has taught me that I am an extremely lucky guy to have so many wonderful, supportive people in my life, and as I have said time and time again this trip wouldn’t have been the incredible trip that it was without all of the incredible people that I met along the way! Feel free comment on the blog or email me with questions, comments, fun facts, or whatever, and for those that have been asking; have no fear there are ALOT of pictures on the way!

Day 59: Saxon Harbor – Long Island, 20mi

Well, definitely could have made it to Bayfield today if I had wanted to, but I didnt want to. Woke up at my usual early hour well before sunrise, and was paddling past the steep clay slopes towards Marble Point as the first beams of sunlight made their way above the eastern horizon. The lake stayed calm for the first few miles, but as I rounded Marble point a gusting west-southwest wind swept across the lake, making the paddle towards Marble Creek tough, but very manageable. Then, once I reached the creek the now forested, sandy shore veered northwest, sheltering me from the worst of the wind and charting me on a straight course to Bayfield. The day was overcast and not nearly as hot as the the past two had been, and I had a wonderful paddle along the marshy sand beaches that line this section of shore before pulling ashore near the mouth of the Bad River (love that name haha) for a snack. Did some exploring while I snacked on a clif bar, and as I climbed over the small sand dune just past where I had pulled up, I was treated to a spectacular view of the beautiful expanse of grassy marshland that covers the land on the other side. It was wonderful, and I spent a good amount of time sitting on top of the sand dune looking out across the sea of grass listening to the birds and crickets chirp under the late morning light. After awhile I climbed back into my boat and paddled on down the shore, which remained beautiful (one long sandy beach with tufts of grass lining the tops of the dunes, very similar to the shore between Whitefish Point and Grand Marais) and continued to shelter me from the steady southwest wind that I could see and hear blowing through the tops of the trees behind the dunes and darkening the water with ripples a few yards to my right. As I paddled past the narrow Chequamegon Point and next to the thin strip of land that makes up the south end of Long Island the lake started to fill with sailboats (I counted 14 at one point), emerging from the marinas at Bayfield to take advantage of the days wind and reminding me of the end of my solitude that awaited me there, and with such a beautiful expanse of beach next to me I couldn’t resist the thought of spending one more peaceful night out alone on Superior and decided to just call it a day and wait until tomorrow to make it to Bayfield and end what has been one hell of a great summer adventure. Pulled ashore, set up my tent a little ways back on a grassy patch along one of the dunes, and had a wonderfully peaceful last day out on the lake. Read, listened to music, hiked around the dunes, made a final supper of quinoa mush (or at least the last one on this trip!), and didn’t retire to my tent until darkness had completely taken over and put an end to the day. A good way to go out.

Day 58: Just Past Presque Isle River – Saxon Harbor, 28mi

Woke up this morning a little before sunrise, and found Superior just as calm and already as hot as it had been yesterday evening, so after a quick morning dip I loaded up Roark and started the day’s paddle. The shore spanning past The Presque Isle river is really quite beautiful, but with the end literally in sight (I could just make out the Silhouette of the Apostle Islands on the hazy horizon) I was in a pretty pensive mood, with my mind wandering all sorts of places, making it hard to focus and appreciate the shore in front of me. Took a couple of swimming breaks on my way up to Little Girls Point to cool down and escape the heat (somewhere in the 90s today according to my radio), but other then that had a pretty steady day of paddling up to Saxon Harbor and the end of the Michigan shoreline. Near the harbor I paddled a little ways up the Montreal River after having heard the sound of crashing water as I paddled past, and found a pretty sweet waterfall not too far back roaring into a root beer colored pool. After that minor detour I paddled a little ways past Saxon Harbor (and into Wisconsin!) along the steep sand and clay slopes that line the shore (that were also packed with people out enjoying the cool water of the lake on this hot day) until deciding to pull ashore at one of the beaches at the base of a particularly steep clay slope a little ways down from the crowd of people to call it an early day and take shelter from the heat. Spent the afternoon swimming, reading, and smoking my pipe while watching the many boaters (there is a marina and boat ramp in Saxon Harbor) zip around across the calm water, before making dinner and then pitching my tent (right near the water and without the rainfly again after last nights sweet experience) sometime near sunset. The fact that Bayfield is now only a days paddle away is really, really…. Weird.

Day 57: Pine Creek – a little past the Presque Isle River, 29mi

Woke up nice and early and had my tent down before the sun rose, and then after a quick breakfast hit the water while it was still calm. The lake stayed calm for the first few miles, but as I pulled into Union Bay the wind suddenly picked up and before I knew it I was paddling straight into a gusting headwind while the water around me popped with small whitecaps (Superior’s been a bit bi-polar these past few days). Took a little break on a sand stone beach at the west end of Union Bay, then began what was to be a pretty long paddle around the Porcupine Mountains. This section of shore found at the base of the Porcupine Mountain Range was pretty spectacular, with the shore consisting mostly of smooth looking rock faces with a dense blanket of forest rising up and covering the mounatins in the background, making the paddle enjoyable despite the fierce headwind that was making progress slow. The wind lasted for a few hours before suddenly disappearing almost as fast as it arrived, leaving behind a calm but sweltering hot day. The heat (somewhere in the high 80s according to my wave radio) proved to be almost tougher to deal with then the wind and waves, and when I finally pulled ashore at the mouth of the carp river for a break I hopped right out of my boat and into the water to go for a swim and cool down. It was somewhere around 3oclock by this point and I was really hoping to paddle a few more hours to take advantage of the calm day, but with the day being as hot as it was paddling proved difficult, and after stopping for the second time to take a swimming break and chug some water I decided just to call it a day near the Presque Isle River (also, I started seeing people camping/enjoying themselves by the water past the carp river, I’m not positive but Im think that this portion of the shore must be a state park or something). Pulled ashore on a small cobble stone beach around 5pm or 6pm, and went about the usual routine of getting everything unloaded. The woods behind the beach was beautiful but pretty dense and marshy which made finding a good spot for my tent a bit of a challenge, and then the one spot that I did find ended up being right on top of a beehive (which I didnt realize until after I had brought all my tent stuff up and unrolled the darn thing) and seeing as it was so hot out I was only wearing my swimsuit and sandals, so the bees stung the **** out of me before sending me hollering into the lake to nurse my stung body (counted 7 sting marks on my legs and chest, and could feel a bunch on my back). After I had recovered I had to unfortunately go back and grab all of my tent things, so in the 80 degree weather put on my wool socks, wool underarmor, sweatshirt, wool hat, and paddling gloves to protect me from the stings as I walked right back into the swarm to grab my stuff. I was feeling a bit flustered after the whole bee debacle, so just pitched my tent right near my boat on the beach only a few yards away from the water before getting going on making dinner, swimming every so often to stay cool (it was so, so hot and the glare from the sun setting right in front of me didn’t help). Once the sun finally disappeared below the horizon the evening became a lot more enjoyable, and then seeing as it was supposed to be clear all night I decided to take down the rainfly of my tent which made for an incredibly sweet night, listening to the sounds of Superior and the surrounding woods while the stars twinkled overhead (made me thankful that the bees had chased me out of the woods!).

Day 56: Rockhouse Point – Pine Creek, 35mi

Was more or less startled awake this morning by the sound of the surf crashing against the little cobble stone beach that I was camped on, and as I packed up my tent and left the woods I found that overnight the wind had (thankfully) died down to a much more manageable 10-ish knots, and yet despite the lighter wind the waves had for some reason grown to a substantial 3-4ft (sometimes I just dont get this lake). This made getting off the beach just about impossible, and after the usual breakfast of granola and loading up Roark it took me 4 attempts (and thirty minutes) to finally make it past the surf and onto the Lake (Attempt #1: tried starting with Roark half in the water and half on land, but as soon as I hopped in the surf pulled Roark in in, turned him sideways, and flipped the boat on top of me as I scrambled up the beach. Attempt #2: Tried again (because I’m a stubborn learner), and ended once more with Roark getting tossed on top of me and giving me a nasty bruise. Attempt #3: started fully out of the water on top of a steep portion of the cobble beach, and after securing my spray skirt tried sliding down the smooth stones to power through the surf. Timed it poorly, and a big wave picked me up and tossed me back on shore. Attempt #4: timed it better, and despite nearly losing my hat as a crest hit me right in the face managed to power my way through the surf yelling like a mad man and into the rolling waves on the Lake). After the mornings excitement the paddling got a lot easier, with the wind progressively dying and the waves slowly shrinking to the point where by the time that I pulled ashore on the sandstone beach at Willard Point for a break (around 11am) the lake was calm and wind just about non-existent (oh Superior..). While I sat on that beach in the middle of nowhere (no development around, just trees) snacking on a clif bar I ran into a backpacker of all things who was hiking from Houghton to Ontanagon to check out some 30 acres or so that were for sale. The backpackers name was Ryan, and he looked to be around my age and was from Chicago, and when I asked him why he was walking to Ontanogon (along the shore too where their are no trails or anything) instead of just getting a ride there he answered by saying that walking was more fun. Real interesting guy and I’m disappointed that I didn’t have more time to get to know him, but after yesterday’s short day I was feeling restless to cover ground, so after chatting for a bit I said goodbye and pushed off onto the lake to keep on paddling. It had become a spectacular day for paddling after the morning’s waves subsided, with the sky beautifully blue and lake calm, and as I rounded fourteen mile I came across a sweet looking old abandoned light house that had to be explored. Pulled ashore on the smooth sandstone rock face in front of the light house, and after pushing my way through the prickly overgrown grass found a way into the crumbling brick lighthuse where I then found a small rope ladder leading up to the second floor. Climbed the Questionable ladder up to the second floor (that was made of old plywood that had holes in it that led straight down to the floor below..) where I found another ladder that was made of (sturdy) wood at the bottom that led up to the second half which was a rusted iron staircase that appeared to be balancing on the wooden section which ended at the top of the lighthouse (a bit tough to explain, but I have pictures!). Knowing that the longer I waited and thought about the situation the more reasonable I would become and unlikely I would be to make the climb to the top, I was quick to scurry up the ladder and gingerly make my way up the iron staircase where I was rewarded with a sweet panoramic view of the lake from the top of this wild lighthouse. Climbing to the top was definitely one of the more questionable decisions that I’ve made all trip, but totally worth it and after taking some pictures and soaking in the view I made it back down in one piece, had some summer sausage and dried fruit back at my boat, and was back on the water paddling towards Ontanagon around 1pm. The 14mi paddle down to Ontanagon was nice and peaceful, and though I had been thinking about stopping somewhere around the town for the day I was feeling so good when I arrived and enjoying the paddle so much that I just kept going until finally pulling ashore on a small sand beach near the mouth of the Pine River around 8pm. It was clearly a privately owned beach (the whole shore spanning from Ontanagon to the beginning of the Porcupine Mountains is one long sand beach that is lined with cabins, I discovered), but at this point in the day I didn’t really have a choice, so I made dinner and then waited for darkness before setting up my tent (and luckily didn’t see anyone/get kicked off!). The lake looked so beautiful this evening, with that calm soft shine to it that you only get on still evenings like this one, and I had a great time staring off across the lake as the light slowly faded. I’m going to miss this when I’m done!

Day 55: North Entry of Portage Lake – Rockhouse Point, 16mi

Well, today was yet another day that went absolutely nothing like I had expected (probably the best feature of this trip haha). Woke up a little later than usual after having stayed up late watching the stars last night, and then was further delayed (though not in a bad way, and it’s not like I’m really in any sort of hurry) when a father (who had done Widji growing up!) and his son said hello when they saw me packing up on the beach (and after hearing about my trip they gave me a bag full of fudge and chocolate covered expresso beans which was very cool), but despite all of this still somehow managed to hit the water around 830am. The lake was dead calm with that beautiful oily shine (that makes early morning paddling such a treat) as I pulled out from behind the shelter of the breakwater, but as paddled past the dark sand beach that extends a mile or to west of the entry into Portage Lake the water on the horizon in front of me suddenly darkened and within minutes I found myself paddling into the teeth of a fierce headwind on a lake popping with white caps. Wild. From the get go it was clear that the wind was here to stay and that the days progress was going to have to be measured in hours paddled as opposed to miles covered, so I buckled down and powered my way through the growing waves in a duel with the big lake. The shore became pretty cliff-ridden for a few miles before giving way to a sand beach near the industrial stack at Redridge, then past Redridge the shore became lined with some massive, beautiful pale red and yellow sandstone cliffs once more. These cliffs at Redridge were something special, but with the waves steadily growing (already well past 2ft) and the wind getting even stronger cliffs were the last thing that I needed, and I was thankful when they eventually gave way near the Freda Industrial stack to another dark sand beach where I let myself get tossed ashore in the big surf to take a much needed break. It was past noon by this point, and after nearly 4 hours of paddling at a snails pace into the wind I was feeling pretty worn out, so after a nice older man (there was a family hanging out at the beach) told me that the old Freda copper plant was a pretty cool place to explore I decided to give my paddling muscles a break and spend some time checking it out while looking for forgotten chunks of melted copper (the man, who was the grandpa of the Morin family from Freda as I was later to learn, had a pocket full of copper that he had collected). I never did find any copper, but man was that a cool place to explore. I spent an hour walking along the old crumbling concrete structures (it’s a hard place to describe, but I’ll be posting pictures soon!) and around the tall brick smoke stack that had looked so proud jutting out of the woods from my kayak, and with the wind howling through the abandon plant on this scorching hot sunny day the place had an eery feel to it, almost haunted. After finishing my little venture at the plant I headed back to my boat to have a slice of summer sausage and some peanut butter & crackers before heading back out into the wind, but right as I sat down with my summer sausage in hand the family that had been hanging out at the beach walked past and invited me up for lunch!!! I was ecstatic, and went from having a tough afternoon of paddling into a 20-30mph wind and some nasty looking waves (the Morin’s had a device that measured the speed of the wind up at their place) on nothing but a couple of bites of summer sausage and some peanut butter & crackers, to spending the afternoon hanging out with Norm, Darlene, and the rest of the Morin family, filling the hours with great conversation while feasting (or so it felt to me haha) on pasties, cheetos, and beer. I had the best time with the Morin’s, and it wasn’t until 4pm that I finally made my way back down to my boat (but not before they gave me two ziplock bags full of goodies, the highlights from which being the phenomenal homemade chocolate/butterscotch bars that Darlene gave me and the mini bottle that Norm filled with good Scotch [he’s a scotch man like myself] that I plan on drinking once I make it to Bayfield), where I found Superior just as wild as before. I thought about just calling it a day and pitching my tent on the beach, but not wanting to waste the energy boost I was sure to have from the pasties I sucked it up and pushed off into the crashing surf and gusting wind. I paddled as long as I could last into the wind before finally giving in sometime around 7pm, where I landed on a cobble stone beach a little ways before Rockhouse Point to make camp for the night (the surf was so strong coming in that it nearly flipped me end over end onto the cobble stone beach, quite an intense moment). Spent some time combing the beach looking for cool rocks before making the usual dinner of pasta mush and then retiring to my tent for the night (despite it having been such a short day paddling into the wind really wore me out). Here’s to hoping for better weather tomorrow!

Day 54: Agate Harbor – North Entry of Portage Lake, mi

Woke up yet again to the sound of a strong wind winding it’s way through the small clump of trees where I was camped, but thankfully when I headed out to my boat I found that the wind had shifted directions during the night and was now coming from the north (making it a cross wind). Quickly (or rather efficiently) packed up my gear and set off on the choppy lake a little after sunrise, and spent the morning dodging in and out of the shelter provided by the small rocky islands found between Agate Harbor and Great Sand Bay. The waves were around 1-2ft (perhaps occasionally making it near 3ft) this morning, and were echoing off of the stone shore with a decent amount of force making the paddle a bit bumpy but otherwise very manageable, and since it was a crosswind I made good time to Great Sand Bay, and then past that to a public beach near Eagle River where I pulled ashore for a break sometime around noon. Ran into two kayakers who were camped out on the beach (a couple 2yrs younger then me who are students at Northern) who are paddling around the Keweenaw Peninsula (starting and ending at the south entry to Portage Lake, a pretty sweet loop) and were taking the day off because of the wind (ive got to admit this made me feel pretty cool haha). They told me about a nice little convenience store a little ways down the road, so off I went in search of a lunch consisting of something other than summer sausage, peanut butter and crackers, and dried fruit. The little general store was great, owned by a sweet older couple it had a very random assortment of things for sale (and a pile of books in one corner with a sign that read ‘Borrow me, Read me, then Return me’) and an even randomer tiny menu (my favorite being the fact that despite the large ice cream display that they had only one of the dozen tubs was filled, and with Spumoni ice cream of all flavors), so I had a very appreciated lunch of two foot-long hotdogs (with some delicious homemade relish) and a carton of milk. After my meal I headed back to my boat, wished the couple from Northern luck on their trip, and pushed off into the surf (which really wasn’t all that bad, but looking back I dont think that the couple had spray skirts which would have made it tougher to get out). The kayakers had told me about a campground at the north entrance of Portage Lake that they had stayed at the night before last, and seeing as the day was still young (around 1pm) and the wind had begun to die down I decided to set that as my goal for the night. The shore spanning past Eagle River is almost entirely one long cobble stone beach with a flat line of trees rising just behind the beach (for the most part undeveloped with the exception being right around the Portage Lake entrance where the shore becomes lined with cabins), and before long the wind had completely died and I was cruising along across Superior’s azure water at a steady pace while my mind wandered. Pulled ashore at the campground around 6pm, and after finding the office and being told that they were full, paddled down a ways to a beach just inside of the break water where they said I could camp after 9pm so long as I was gone by 9am (because apparently its a day use area and the day ends at 9pm and starts again at 9am). After changing into some dry clothes I found the campground store that sold (among a small assortment of general store type things) subs, Pasties, and ice cream, so for dinner I had one of each. Spent the evening catching up on my blog and reading, then when it got dark lied down on the beach to watch the shooting stars flash across the sky (according to some guy I ran into tonight was supposed to be [and was] a spectacular night for shooting stars). Another great day.

Day 53: Keweenaw Point – Agate Harbor, mi

Woke up to the sound of the wind rushing through the trees, and after packing up my tent and leaving my little spot in the woods I found Superior already popping with (small) white caps as a steady North wind made it’s way across the lake. Despite the wind, however, I was feeling nice and fresh after yesterday’s relaxing afternoon, and with the promise of a good lunch awaiting me at Copper Harbor I pushed off onto the lake under a clear blue sky and paddled hard into the wind. The wind was strong but by no means the worse that I’d encountered on the trip, and I made decent time paddling past the brown rounded crumbly looking cliffs (very similar to what I encountered back around Hibbard Bay) that line the shore from Keweenaw Point up to Copper Harbor, pulling ashore at the old lighthouse on the east end of the harbor sometime around noon. Spent some time checking out the lighthouse (the first one ever built on Superior!) before paddling across the harbor to hop out and check out the town. Copper Harbor is a fun little town with no cell service (always a plus) and lots of character, and I spent a couple of hours checking out the sweet little shops in town (the highlight definitely being the copper-streaked agates that were on display in one of the art galleries, but the great little bookstore where I picked up another Sigurd Olson book came in a close second) before heading to a local diner for some lunch. Had a half pound burger and an order of fries, then after getting a large turtle pecan ice cream cone at the fudge shop next door (I was kind of hungry..) headed back to my boat to take on the Lake once more. The wind had unfortunately built while I was exploring the town and veered west (meaning it was now a straight headwind), but the waves were still only 1-2ft so I paddled out from the shelter of the little harbor and muscled my way down the Keweenaw. The shore was still primarily made up of the same crumbly looking brown cliffs from the morning (not the best description, but their reallly quite beautiful), but with the fierce headwind now rushing across the lake the going was much slower. I pulled into a narrow channel between the mainland and a surprisingly large island on the east end of Agate harbor to catch my breath and take shelter from the wind and waves, and though I had been planning on paddling a few more hours (it was around 630pm at that point), after resting and exploring the island a little bit I decided to call it a day and let this wind (hopefully) blow itself out. Went about the usual routine of setting up the tent and making dinner, then had a special evening sitting out on one of the rounded-lichen covered cliffs (brown/red stone covered in white and turquoise lichens) eating my dinner while watching the waves crash against the rock. I spent a long while out on that cliff, watched a couple of freighters slowly make their way cross the horizon and then went and got my mini jam box and listened to some music while I watched the sun set behind some distant thunderheads (I love how clouds always look so heavenly in the evening light). Another great day on this beautiful lake.

Day 52: Bête Grise Bay – Keweenaw Point, 16mi

A pretty cool day. Woke up to the patter of rain on my rainfly, so I rolled over and dozed a bit longer before finally rallying myself up around 730. By then the rain had stopped, and despite my late start I managed to get everything packed and hit the water by 820. It was calm and overcast as I paddled along the sand beach at Bete Grise Bay, turning the water silver in the morning light, and then as I made it out of the bay the shore became rocky with huge stone cliffs in the background rising out of the steep forested hills in a way that I hadn’t seen since Canada. Unlike the fragile-looking sandstone cliffs that I had grown so accustom to here in the U.P these cliffs were solid, naked earth, painted all sorts of shades of orange, white, black, and grey by the hardy lichens that grew on their stone faces. The rocky shore even sounded different, with the gentle sound of the water splashing against the solid rocks and their many ridges and crevices giving the scene a much different feel then that given off by the sound of the surf crashing against a sand beach and really much different even then the sound made by the water washing up against the sandstone cliffs. It was beautiful. As I paddled along this wonderful stone shoreline I found some really sweet stone arches and caves, and then about 6 miles out of the bay I came across a nice gentle waterfall that was rolling it’s way right into Superior. I hopped ashore to hike up the watrfall a little ways and ran into a group of kayakers that were just starting to take down their tents, and after saying hello and finishing up my little hike I got back into my boat and paddled on down the shore. The shore stayed rocky until around Keystone Point where it became sand once more and then morphed into a sort of crumbly looking brown rounded rock formation around Keweenaw Point. And then, as I rounded the farthest point of the Keweenaw, the last real challenge that stands between me and the end of this trip, and looked out across the vast blue horizon of this incredible lake, it all suddenly hit me. I dont know if it was the mornings paddle along the stone shoreline that reminded me of canada that triggered this or just the fact that the trip was coming to an end, but all of a sudden I found myself filled with all sorts of emotions as the experiences, feelings, thoughts, challenges, and accomplishments of the trip just started running through my head and taking over my thoughts. Part of me was (is) terribly sad at the fact that this incredible trip is coming to an end, while another part of me was (is) filled with joy by the unbelievable experiences and moments that I have had on this trip (and by the wonderful people I have been so blessed to get to know!), but above all else I was (am) feeling fiercely proud of all that I have accomplished these past two months and especially about having nearly achieved what has been such a powerful dream of mine these past three years. I pulled ashore on a cobble stone beach right past the point to grab a snack and sort of take in the moment and let it all sink in, then paddled a few more miles down the shore before just deciding to call it a day. Found another nice cobble stone beach right next to a stone rock face to make camp at, and after setting up my tent a little ways back in the woods I spent the afternoon reading and just sort of thinking and having some me time. Had pasta mush for dinner (surprise!), and retired to my tent a little after sunset. A wonderful day.

Day 51: Camp Lahti – Bête Grise Bay, mi

Somehow managed to wake up at 5am this morning despite having had three late nights in a row, and after rolling up my sleeping bag and gathering the few things I had in my room (forgot to mention in the last post that they let me sleep in one of the vacant rooms last night, so I slept on a mattress for the first time since the Otter Island Lighthouse back on the Pukuskwa) I headed down to my boat to get the day started. It was still dark out at this point which made packing a bit of a challenge, but soon enough I had everything packed and ready to go and after a quick breakfast of cereal and a banana and leaving a note thanking everyone at Camp Lahti one last time (and seriously considering staying another day or two, don’t be surprised if I “happen” to be paddling by and get “weather bound” at next years reunion haha) I pushed off onto the lake right as the sun began to rise through the clouds. The lake was calm and had that beautiful silver oily look to it which made for a beautiful paddle over to the red and yellow layered sand stone cliffs across the bay. The cliffs were lit up wonderfully in the morning light and extended well into Little Traverse Bay before giving way to a long expanse of sand beach (all things considered it was a pretty spectacular morning paddle). Grand Traverse Bay was also mostly sand beach (with Cabins lining most of it), but as I approached the stack at the town of Gay on the other side of the bay the beach changed from gold to a dark shade of red/black. This was already pretty odd, but then once I reached the stack (an old industrial smoke stack that shoots up from the woods and that is clearly out of use, pretty cool) the red/black beach came out a half mile from shore! I’m really curious as to whether or not this is a natural occurrence or perhaps the tailings from the old Gay industrial plant, but either way it was a pretty interestng sight and I pulled ashore to take a few pictures and walk around the dark sand before moving on. As I paddled past the long dark beach some atv-ers pulled out of the woods and started zipping around on the sand, and then past Gay the road started to closely follow the shore making the paddle along the short sand cliffs and sand beaches up to point Isabelle a bit dull, but it was beautiful out with a mostly blue sky and a light headwind to keep me cool so overall not a bad paddle. Rounded Point Isabelle around 430pm and was actually planning on crossing Bête Grise Bay to get few more solid hours of paddling in to make up for yesterday’s vacation day, but as I rounded the point a strong headwind started to build out of the east bringing with it some 2-3ft waves, and not wanting to get stuck trying to find a campsite late along what was clearly a very rocky and cliff-ridden shore across the bay I opted instead to paddle into Bête Grise to look for a place to camp along the sand beach that lined the west end of the bay. It turns out that the beautiful expanse of beach at the back of Bête Grise is actually a wetland preserve (found a wooden sign describing it as such at the front end of the beach), so in no time I had pulled up on shore, found a good place to pitch my tent (in the middle of a patch of blueberry bushes!), and started boiling water for dinner. Had an early dinner of pasta mush out on the beach watching then lake dance with white caps, then sat a ways back in the woods (to get out of the wind) and read till sunset. Another wonderful day on Superior.