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!