Tag Archives: Outdoors

A Superior Ride

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One of my favorite summer things is getting out early to enjoy the cool am temperatures and the beautiful first morning sunlight.  Since summer was so long in reaching Duluth this year, it’s only been within the last week that this idea was even worth considering.  But today was the perfect opportunity.

Soon after sunrise Rich and I loaded our bikes on the car and headed out to West Duluth.  Our destination: Superior, Wisconsin.  We parked on the Duluth end of the Bong Bridge, mounted our bikes and IMG_4923proceeded to cross over the bay on the bridge.  The bridge was wonderfully bicycle-friendly, with a dedicated bike lane that was well protected from traffic.  As luck would have it, we also had a scenic view of the St. Louis River basin on our side of the bridge.  With the rising sun behind us and calm waters in the bay, we had lovely views of the railway bridge and surrounding waterway.

We entered Superior in the Billings Park area of the city.  There we were immediately able to access the bay, first on city streets and then on a bike trail through the park that was literally within feet of the water’s edge.  With the water reflecting the morning’s scenery and fluffy clouds, it was an idyllic landscape.IMG_4927 IMG_4933 IMG_4935 Leaving the park, we entered a beautiful neighborhood full of impressive houses and steeply rolling hills.  Still within proximity of the water, it was easy to imagine the luxury of the homes with waterfront property.  It was early and quiet enough that we managed to get within photo distance of a gray fox just down the road.

IMG_4931 trimmedWe continued on into the Superior Municipal Forest and traveled part of the Millennium Trail.  There wildflowers grew in abundance as the trail wound through woodland areas and meadows.  It was a peaceful trail, and clearly a popular destination for runners and dog walkers out for their morning rounds.

It was a pleasure to return via the coastal trail and back over the bridge for a second opportunity to enjoy the views.  The sun was still low enough to provide its warm glow to the scenes.  And going the opposite direction provided a different perspective on everything.  This time the railway bridge was closed, and in fact a pair of locomotives crossed the bridge as we watched.IMG_4941 IMG_4942 IMG_4944I had no idea that such beauty lay right across the harbor, with such easy access by bicycle.  I just never thought to look at it from the other side before.  It was clearly a Superior ride.

The Rainy Lake Experience

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When friends invited us to visit their cabin on Rainy Lake, we jumped at the chance to see their place and the famed lake on the border of Minnesota and Canada.  Like us, they have a “true cabin,” with just the basic amenities and lots of character.  But the similarities end at the shoreline.

As soon as we arrived, we were recruited to outfit the boat for an afternoon on the lake.  With respectable waves and the sheer size of the lake, a good sized boat and motor are a necessity.  Theirs is an old workhorse of a boat, but stable and large enough to take us across the expansive open waters.  And hold all the fixings for our adventure.  We soon began to learn what Rainy Lake was all about.

Rainy Lake Map 2Lesson number 1.  A boat ride on Rainy Lake can take all afternoon and still cover only a tiny fraction of the lake.  With 360 square miles of water, almost 1,000 miles of shoreline and about 2,500 islands, there are endless areas to explore.  Our friends took us to their favorite spots, starting with the dam and waterfall.  There we clambered down to the base of the falls to see the thundering rush of the water from the recent flooding.

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IMG_1100Lesson number 2.  It’s like being in the Boundary Waters.  The tall pines, rocky outcroppings and lack of population all reminded me of the solitary feeling one gets in the Boundary Waters.  In all of our wanderings we spotted only two other boats.  We saw plenty of scenery, fascinating birds and natural beauty instead.  And there was always something new around the next bend.

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Lesson number 3.  Shore lunch doesn’t necessarily mean fish.  The first step was selecting an appealing island.  We then built a rock fire scar (that was a new term to me), hunted down dry wood and started up a fire to cook our lunch – brats.  They were mighty tasty cooked in the open air with a beautiful view of the lake from our perch on a huge rock.

Rainy Lake Pelicans

Lesson number 4.  Bring along a photographer husband to catch the magical moments.  Rich was in his element with birds in abundance, and we all got a kick out of “bird island” with its population of pelicans.  The best part was watching their comical take-off as we approached.

Lesson number 5.  The lake is best appreciated when seen through the eyes of those who love it.  Our friends have gotten to know Rainy Lake through four generations of cabin life.  Our tour narrative was rich in stories woven with family history.

The only fitting end to this day on an amazing lake was a sauna.  In this case, a wood-fired sauna which proved to be blistering hot.  That was enough to get me into the lake.  Jumping off the dock into chilling water over my head was both a shock and relief.  All part of the Rainy Lake experience.

A Visiting Loon

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It's one of my favorite things at the cabin – seeing loons and hearing their plaintive cry. Sometimes I can get fairly close to them when out in the kayak. But ultimately they always dive and swim away, surfacing far off in any direction. So imagine my surprise this morning when we saw a loon paddling languidly at the end of our dock.

Knowing how skittish they are, I set up my camera and monopod on the deck of the cabin. I was afraid that getting any closer was likely to drive him away. But after snapping a multitude of photos, I ventured halfway down to the lake, and eventually right onto the dock. Still Mr. Loon lingered. Swimming slowly back and forth, he seemed to accept our presence, even when Katie and Erik joined me. He wasn't fazed by us in the slightest.

Eventually the loon swam away. But he left us knowing we'd seen something special. Thanks for the visit, Mr. Loon!

 

Crisp Point’s Many Faces

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In the four days we've been at Crisp Point Lighthouse so far, this coastline of Lake Superior has served up a varied selection of weather. While tent camping here we are naturally tied to the elements, and all that Mother Nature brings our way. So far, she continues to entertain us with her many moods.

We arrived on a foggy, misty and brooding morning. The wind was howling, blowing off the lake and seemed to strip away every ounce of warmth I could muster. I spent that day shivering, piling on layers of clothes I'd packed for just such circumstances, including my winter jacket. But I did wonder how I'd survive five days huddled in those same layers.

Despite the conditions, the lighthouse grounds fascinated us. The tower stood tall against the elements, claiming its place as safeguard for the coast. Even when the skies cleared, the waves continued to crash furiously against the shore providing an angry display of power, and a constant sound that lulled us to sleep that night.

The wind abated on our second day, and left mosquitoes in swarming its wake. Not everything can be perfect here, and these pests let us know it. I'm usually fairly tolerant, but I've never seen such hungry hoards before. It was enough to drive me to wear a dorky hat smothered in bug spray or seek refuge in the visitors center. At night they swarmed between our inner screen tent and rain fly in noisy frustration at being unable to reach us for their next meal. Only then did we feel we had won the battle, temporarily.

Yesterday afternoon a storm appeared to be brewing. Fortunately, it didn't materialize but it did bring huge gusts of wind that persisted for the remainder of the day. Our tent blew over three times before we finally gave up and collapsed it, anchoring it with rocks. And our screen tent pulled up its stakes and blew right off Rich who was sitting in it at the time. Sleep was hard to come by that night as the tent pulsated in the wind, the sides alternately collapsing in toward us and flapping away. I'm sure it was only our bodies that anchored it to the ground.

Today, in contrast, it's hot and sunny. The light wind is out of the south and the lake calmly laps the beach. We can see out into the water, with it's varying colors. It's a perfect day for walking the beach, which seems to be a bigger attraction to our visitors than the lighthouse today. I'm happy to sit by the water's edge and read in between the slow flow of guests.

My favorite times of the day are morning and evening. We have the place to ourselves then, a powerful feeling of good fortune to be surrounded by this natural beauty. Mornings are magical. Emerging from the tent in time to catch the sunrise leaves hours to enjoy the golden colors of the low sun as the shoreline awakens. It's peaceful, quiet and different every day.

Sunset comes late here. And we've had some beauties. By the time the light fades, I'm already thinking about a campfire – a camping requirement, in my opinion. Once the fire is established and roaring, I love watching the glow of the red-hot coals underneath. To add to the allure, the crackling of the fire is accompanied by the rhythmic flow of the waves on the beach in close proximity. The other night I could see a distinct line of red in the distance marking the sun's departure over the horizon, and the rhythmic repetition of the lighthouse's signal light. A pleasing combination.

Tomorrow is guaranteed to be different from today. I'm looking forward to what Crisp Point will deliver for us.

 

 

North Shore Discoveries

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Despite the amount of time I’ve spent on the North Shore, there there is always something new to discover. This week it was two “new to me” hiking trails. Admittedly I have spent more time cross-country skiing on the area’s trails, so it’s not too surprising that there are still plenty of hiking opportunities to explore.

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Root cellar once used to store food is the only remaining structure on the land.

The first was Sugarloaf Cove. This 34-acre site was formerly occupied by Consolidated Papers for their pulpwood rafting operation. Back in those days, thousands of logs dropped down a chute into the lake and were collected in a bay until there were enough to form a “raft.” Surrounded by log booms, 6-8 loads were towed across Lake Superior to Wisconsin each summer.

In 1988 the land was acquired by the State of Minnesota with the intent of turning it back to its natural state, and preserving it for future generations. A tasteful nature center was constructed, with green technology to minimize its impact. There is a lovely 1-mile self-guided nature trail through the property. It’s a beautiful trail on its own, including its pebble beach and lake views. But the numbered points of interest along the way also detail the history of the log operation and identify remnants that still remain visible.

The site has only a modest dirt road and little in the way of signage at the entrance, so it’s easy to miss. It’s just four miles southwest of Schroeder and is well worth a visit.

IMG_4540The second was finding the “split rocks” that may have given the Split Rock River its name. Although the exact origin of the name is still in question, the rocks are impressive. The Split Rock River Loop trail departs from the roadside parking area southwest of the lighthouse entrance of the park. Heading inland along the river, the trail follows the Split Rock River. About 1/2 mile in, it joins the Superior Hiking Trail and crosses the river which branches into East and West branches. The trail follows the East or main branch, closely following the water which boasts a continual flow of waterfalls and rapids along its course. With the foliage sporting that new spring green color as it emerged, and small wildflowers dotting the trail side with yellow, white and purple, it was an enchanting hike.

IMG_4542The trail maps weren’t clear about the location of the rocks, so we began to doubt our route as we continued to climb upward over terrain that was crisscrossed with tree roots and at times rocky footing. But suddenly there they were – huge, tall rocks with a split down the middle. And well worth the 2-mile hike to reach them. The view of the river from that spot IMG_4543was impressive as well, with high cliffs across the way.

To return, we continued up the river about another 1/2 mile to reach a bridge. It warned us that only one hiker should cross at a time – and we complied. On the other side, the trail proved to be gentler and more smooth underfoot. It was easy walking down, particularly when we veered away from the river. Reaching the Split Rock Shelter, we found ourselves at the top of a large plateau with unlimited views of lake and land.  A short spur trail took us back to the parking lot, for a total of about 5 miles of hiking.

It didn’t hurt that we had beautiful weather for hiking. But even without it, both trails felt like gems. Very different, but great discoveries. And I’m sure the North Shore holds a lot more.

 

In Search of Color

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It’s been so drab for so long.  It didn’t help to wake up to dense fog, which obliterated all surroundings, brown or otherwise.  My morning run took me up to Hawk Ridge, where nature defied all knowledge of Lake Superior or even houses below.  With my senses screaming for stimulation, I went out on a mission to find color.

Knowing I’d need to get away from the lake to lose the fog, I headed up to Hartley Park.  Getting out of the car I could already tell the difference – the sun that had finally emerged packed some real warmth, and it wasn’t long before I was shedding layers in the welcome heat. The hunt was already off to a good start.

My primary mission was to find wildflowers.  That meant sticking to trails that were more out in the open, in the hopes that I would find a microcosm of spring where things were blooming.  What I found instead were nascent blades peaking through the fall’s dead grasses, ferns beginning to take form and little else.  I realized I might have to lower my expectations, and look for color in other forms.

Reaching Hartley Pond I found a IMG_4294 trimmedpeaceful scene.  There a lone loon dove and surfaced in the calm waters.  I gradually became aware of the birds singing in the trees and the sounds of nature surrounding me.  I decreed that the blue of the sky reflected in the pond, surrounded by the green trees qualified as color.IMG_4279

Moving on, I was glad for my hiking boots as I slogged through wet and muddy terrain.  In following one of the little streams, I spotted the shiny green head of a mallard.  He cooperated long enough to pose for me, and I decided to chalk another one up for spring color.IMG_4318 trimmed

I marveled at the fascinating plants growing alongside the stream, with their bulging balls bobbing above the leaves.  And then I saw them – flowers!  They were Marsh Marigolds, and I found one – and only one – that was in full boom!  My first wildflower of the season, glowing in a radiant yellow and brightening my day.  I could finally declare success.  And if one wild flower is in bloom, surely others are soon to follow.  I can’t wait for the explosion of color.

Whatever the Weather

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We runners are resilient.  No matter the weather, we are out there pounding the pavement, putting in our miles.  And those of us living in Duluth are especially so.  We have to be, as the seasons here hold no loyalty to the calendar.  So although this is the height of the marathon training period, it’s not exactly shorts and t-shirt weather.

weatherMentally I planned to do my weekly long run today.  Never mind the fact that tomorrow’s weather looks to be beautiful and sunny and my calendar is open, my inner control center said it had to be today.  This morning.  Early.  Because I like to run first thing in the morning.

I awoke to what sounded like water.  Was it rain?  The falls on Amity Creek?  Wind?  Crossing my fingers, I arose to find that the rocks next to the house were dry – a good start.  The rest of the word was enveloped in a heavy fog, but it was not precipitating.  And my weather app said rain would not show up before noon.  That was enough for me – I was going.

Fog turned out to be equal parts mist.  The closer to the lake I got, the heavier it was.  But it wasn’t raining.  I had the proper clothing, and blessed my wind mitts as I pulled them on to keep my gloves dry.  The scenery wasn’t spectacular, but there were other small compensations.  The street cleaners had been out, clearing the shoulders of grit and sand on the Scenic Highway.  My running and cycling personae thanked them for that.   Traffic was light, and I certainly didn’t have to dodge other runners.

Doubling back to the Lakewalk, I found more company.  Folks were out running and walking.  Even a bike or two passed by.  Greeting one another as we passed, some exchanged conspiratorial glances with me that acknowledged the craziness of our pursuits in the drippy weather.  Others appeared as if it were a fine day, totally unaffected by the local conditions.  Somehow my fellow damp athletes validated my choice, and I pressed on in the belief that I’d be glad I stuck to my plan.

On my return from Canal Park the weather gods took pity on me.  The wind dropped and the fog lifted.  The mist had dried up.  It was almost decent weather.  I willed my legs to keep churning, clocking off the miles and setting mental milestones in the distance.  As I logged miles 19 and 20 I thought of my daughter doing her long run at the same time in the Twin Cities.  My virtual running partner carried me through.

Make no mistake, when I reached our driveway, I was glad to be done.  I made it back before it rained, and maintained a decent pace.  I was still warm, and relatively dry.  And  I could check off one more long run before my race, the Minneapolis Marathon.  All that despite the weather.

 

Park Point Delivers

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The weather wasn’t the greatest, but needing to get outside we decided on the Park Point Hiking Trail.  We had no particular purpose in mind.  Rich would be happy to find some birds, and I’d be content with a bit of exercise and fresh air.

With strong NE winds blowing off the lake, chilled by the miles of ice crushed up against the sandy beach, we were glad to find that the trail’s trees kept us reasonably sheltered.  In fact, as the skies brightened and we warmed with the effort of walking through shifty sand, the afternoon’s prospects improved considerably.

IMG_4026Detouring to the bay side, it was positively calm and almost warm.  There it was easy to dawdle through the grasses, soak up the sun and listen to the water quietly lapping at the shore.  While Rich checked his favorite birding spots, I wandered the shore admiring the driftwood, including the teepee sculpture left by some industrious visitors.

Warmed by that interlude, we continued along the trail.  Despite the growing patches of snow, and the cold winds that pierced the IMG_4038 cropped 2tree branches, we happily carried on and eventually made our way to the end – the Superior entry.  Walking out the narrow catwalk on the outside of the piers was chilling as we met the full force of the wind and were surrounded by ice that clogged most of the entry.  But having come that far, it wasn’t an option to stop short of the end of the pier.

It was only chance that made Rich look up as we carefully picked our way back to land, and there it was – a IMG_4053 croppedboat about to enter the canal.  We’d seen it loading at the grain dock across the harbor, and wished it would finish in time to see it leave.  It appeared our wish was being granted! Pushing its way through the floating ice, the Algoma Equinox created currents that propelled other ice flows past our perch back out at the end of the pier.  Slowly, gracefully it slid past us as our cameras clicked and whirred.

At the same time, we realized this was turning into a double-wish day.  Rich had speculated that the boat anchored off shore was waiting for the same grain dock, and sure IMG_4035enough – now it was visibly moving closer.  It seemed to be barely inching forward, and it was frigid standing out there in the wind.  But we knew we couldn’t leave.  Neither of us had ever seen a boat go through the Superior entry before, and now we had the chance to see one go in and one out all in one visit!  We alternately huddled behind the cement ramparts and peered over the edge to check on the boat’s progress.  ByIMG_4066 cropped the time it came close enough to put our cameras into action again, we’d been out there nearly an hour.  It looked like a twin of the departing ship.  But we welcomed the entrance of the Burns Harbor and accompanied it along the length of the pier, nearly keeping pace with its careful movement.

Regaining the protection of the hiking trail, we couldn’t help but feel pleased with our adventure.  We’d experienced the dichotomy of Park Point weather, ushered two ships through the Superior entry, and found plenty of photographic material.  For an afternoon with no expectations, Park Point certainly delivered.

Signs of Spring

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Nearly a week into May and it still feels like March.  I admit it, this is depressing.  And looking ahead at the weather forecast, it doesn’t get any better.  That big old ice cube in the lake is going to be with us for some time, so “cooler by the lake” is a reality for the long haul.

Despite the drab skies and being surrounded by brown barren ground, this afternoon I set off to find Spring.  Traveling up Seven Bridges Road, I diligently scanned the roadside and woods.  Surely the IMG_4016further inland I traveled, the greater the likelihood of finding something green.  Hoping that I might stumble across a micro climate to nurture growth and possibly even an early season blossom, I continued on.  Optimistically.  But it wasn’t to be found.  The best I could do was some early emerging wild lupine.  Just seeing the young leaves was a hopeful sign.  And the more I looked, the more clusters I saw coming up through the otherwise desolate ground.

Realizing that I wasn’t going to find spring flowers, I tried to liberate my mind from its narrow mission.  And the longer I walked the more I discovered other indicators.  Just the fact that the road was snow-free was a good start.  For a surface untouched by snow plows and trampled by snowmobiles and foot traffic, it took a lot longer to melt.  So that was progress.  Runners, dog walkers and cyclists IMG_4019were out taking advantage of this transformation.  Surely that was a symptom of spring.  Amity Creek was awash in spring run-off, rushing down toward Lake Superior and creating white water wherever it coursed over rocks and fell over steep drops.  I only had to ignore the snow still clinging to the shady riverbanks.  Coming up on one of the road’s famous stone bridges, I spied a young couple snuggled up close and enjoying the view.  Ah, spring lovebirds.  Speaking of birds, there was a symphony of song in the woods, if one only stopped to listen.  And come to think of it, I heard a flock of loons fly overhead this morning, easily identified by their distinctive plaintive cry.  Spring migration at its finest.

It’s slow in coming.  But the signs are there.  I still haven’t given up on finding those wildflowers in bloom.  I just may have to venture further away from the lake to find them.