Saturday, March 9, 2013

Destination: Isle Royale 2010


     The long anticipated canoe tripping venture was finally at hand. I was to be accompanied by 3 particularly suitable partners. Dan "the man" Atard was already an oft tripping pal having been with me on several Quetico trips. Tim "Big Daddy" Cornelius is a childhood chum and a welcome addition. Tim's son Alex, who went by the nickname of "Candy Man" was also on board. At the age of 15 he was strong and especially suited for some of the lengthier portages we would encounter.
     We rolled out of Ann Arbor Michigan at 7:30 A.M. for the big drive to Copper Harbor on upper Michigan's Keewanaw peninsula for the 4 hour ferry ride the following morning which would wisk us to the big island. The 2 Bell solos rode nicely on my trucks roof rack with one solo tucked inside a Bell Northwoods tandem. The drive up was not without potential consequences however. While directly behind a huge pea gravel semi truck we witnessed not one but two of the giant trucks tires, rim and all, separate themselves from the rig. One tire was of special concern when it stayed rolling into the oncoming traffic. Fortunately it passed between two groups of cars and continued on its malevolent journey without causing a calamity.
     A few hours later further misfortune, howbeit of much less significance was averted when the Michigan State Police suggested it was a poor idea to travel 83 in a 70 mph zone especially with 3 boats atop my truck. My luck, however, would not hold out for much longer. When we stopped at the "Straits Of Mackinaw" to gas up I commented on how cold it was and without hesitation Alex pegged me with the ignominious nickname of "Florida Girl". This moniker was to be employed, amongst much chuckling I might add, whenever fitting.
     The following morning found our boats and gear as well as 30 or so other passengers on the deck of the Isle Royale Queen awaiting transport. A chilly and smooth 4 hours later we were deposited at Rock Harbor which is the jumping off point for the majority of visitors to the park. After the obligatory backcountry orientation and check in with the Ranger station we snatched up a shelter. These shelters were protected on 3 sides by wood planking, had a roof and a screened front. A screen door allowed access. The 4 of us found them comfy enough and saved some time as far as setting up and breaking down traditional camps. It should be noted that the shelters are quite limited and available only on the shoreline of Lake Superior and are absent from the interior altogether.

DAY 1, June 18
      After a very cool night we were met in the morning by a steady cool rain. This was to be our constant companion throughout the day. The next step on our trek was to take advantage of the intra costal ferry service provided by the vessel the Voyager 2. This provided us quick passage along the coastline of the island to our jumping off point. Chippewa harbor is a beautiful and protected inlet and it was here where we would start our paddling adventure. We again made use of a shelter relishing the respite from the cold rain. Hot food and hot drinks followed by some suitable changes of attire for the day set the stage for what followed.
     It was agreed that Dan would leave first and scout ahead to see if the campsite on Wood Lake was available. Tim and Alex would follow shortly and I would bring up the rear. Dan, traveling lightly as is his custom, made Wood Lake in good time and finding the highly regarded real estate empty laid claim to it. The day continued on breezy, wet and cold. The two .6 mile portages were not especially tough but seemed punishing for the remainder of our group especially right out of the chute.
     I arrived at Wood Lake in the late afternoon to find our party firmly ensconced and set up. I was pleased to find a peninsula site unoccupied and quickly set about the task of making a temporary home. Right at dark a rather troubling incident occurred when Tim sought me out. Despite having been tucked  into a zero degree down bag he was having trouble getting warm and mentioned that he seemed "out of sorts". We both suspected hypothermia and set about rectifying the situation. We plied him with hot food and drinks and he immediately felt better. Fatigue, coupled with being cold and wet had contributed to him feeling poorly. Hot food was the fuel his body was lacking.

DAY 2, June 19
     The day dawned overcast and breezy but apparently it had rained itself out for the time being. I set about the task of drying clothing while Dan and Alex took the Northwoods out for a spin to wet a line. Alex was promptly rewarded with a 9lb pike which put a wide toothy grin on the young mans mug.
     The day turned sunny and nice and although sorely tempted I resisted the siren call of casting a lure and instead focused on my campsite and gear. Only after my clothing was dried and stowed did I push off into the clear waters of Wood Lake. Fishing proved to be good for size but not numbers. I connected with one 7.5lb pike and one dandy 14lb pike. Unfortunately the larger of the two had swallowed the lure and the blood trail issuing from its gills made it obvious that it would not be a candidate for the usual practice of releasing fish of substantial size. I placed it on the stringer to see if it would revive but as expected it soon expired. The fish was put to good use however and it provided a hearty meal not only for our party of 4 but for 3 other paddlers who had arrived as well.

DAY 3, June 20
     The day started overcast and breezy. Again Dan departed first bound for Lake Ritchie and its reputed fabulous pike fishing. The rest of our party achieved a much later start. This was to be a major contributing factor in the division of our forces.
     As Tim, Alex and I left Wood Lake's small channel that connected it with enormous Siskiwit Lake, I couldn't help but look longingly at the large body of water in hopes of exploring it some day. As we weaved our way through the assorted islands and shoals I was relieved that we were in the lee of the lake as the windward side would be quite punishing. We scampered across the .5 mile portage to Intermediate lake and was greeted by modest whitecaps. We hugged the shoreline and passed without consequence. Another .5 mile portage put us on Lake Ritchie. Being of substantial size the wind was able to gain more purchase and the end result was that we were looking at 3' whitecaps. After some brief discussion, which was influenced by the glowering skies, we retreated to Intermediate Lake to establish camp. I entertained myself that evening by watching small pike jump completely out of the water to crush my large topwater lure.........good fun!

DAY 4, June 21
     Rain, rain, rain! The rain and wind continued unabated throughout the night and into the following day and continued on throughout the next night. Obviously a major weather system was upon us and we spent the vast majority of our time hunkered in our tents or under the rainfly. The steadily falling temps certainly prompted suspicions of arctic air and its eventual arrival but we had no way of knowing. Our thoughts and conversation drifted to our detached companion only a mile or so distant and how he might be faring under the adverse conditions. It had been cold and wet and windy now for almost 40 straight hours and still showed no signs of improvement. We were eager to see what  tomorrow would bring.

DAY 5, June 22
     Another day on the big island and another somber and grey dawn was upon us. The gusts of wind were decreasing in severity however and we broke camp under a modest sprinkle. We negotiated the previously accomplished portage once again to gain access to Lake Ritchie. A .5 mile paddle put us into the canoe campground where we reestablished contact with Dan. He had fared rather well in the big blow by expertly erecting his rainfly in such a fashion that it not only shed the rain but blocked the wind as well.
     After setting up camp we set about sampling the waters of Lake Ritchie eager to exploit its reputation as a fine pike fishery. Indeed it reputation proved well deserved as pike after pike found their way onto almost any lure thrown. It soon became apparent however, that any fish over 27" was going to be hard to come by. After an evening pow-wow we decided to press on the following day and cross 3 lakes and the famed Greenstone Ridge to land on Lake Chickenbone in order to pursue the more desirable walleyes that were to be found in the oddly named body of water.

DAY 6, June 23
     Cool and gloomy had been the watchwords as far as weather was concerned and today was no different. For my part though I was rather pleased as I knew that we had set upon some tough work and I much prefer cool and gloomy to hot and sunny.
     Before we set out Dan conveyed some information to us that he had gleaned from another paddler. This unfortunate person had mistakenly failed to exit the hiking trail onto the portage trail when it split. Naturally this error added substantially in terms of physical toll as one is inclined to just keep on walking down the wrong pathway. Dan apprised us of the potential for mishap and we all just shook our heads confident in our ability to avoid such a distasteful miscue. Alas, several hours later Dan, Alex and I looked at eachother on the shores of Lake LeSage and wondered just where "Big Daddy" Tim Cornelius and the 18' tandem were. In his defense I will admit to almost passing the trail myself and had I been carrying a larger boat I might have been in Tim's muukluks. Twenty minutes later the Northwoods arrived underpinned by one tired fellow whose left arm had gone numb. This will be another event in canoe tripping lore which will be chuckled about around the campfire for years to come.
     We gained Lake Chickenbone after a surprisingly easy ascent of the Greenstone Ridge. Lake Chickenbone was particularly picturesque with a sprinkling of birch trees near the shore. These contrasted nicely with the verdant green of the forested ridges. What made it doubly pleasing was that the weather had finally improved and we set up camp under continually improving conditions.

DAY 7, June 24
     At last, sun, sun, sun! Our layover day on Lake Chickenbone was especially pleasing. Lines were strung in order to dry clothes and bodies were washed in the invigorating but tolerable water of the lake.
     Sometime after noon I decided to ply the dark waters in hopes of securing a walleye dinner. After some trial and error, 4 nice fat walleyes found their way onto my stringer and a fabulous feast soon ensued from our ravenous company. After cleanup the boats were again launched with Tim's son Alex and I teaming up in the tandem. The young man proved an especially quick study and he out fished his more experienced cohort 2 nice walleye to none!

DAY 8, June 25
     Camp was struck starting at 4:20 A.M.. We had a 1.2 mile portage into McCargo Cove (part of Lake Superior) and none of us wanted to accomplish that during the heat of the day. The miler proved fairly easy and we arrived at the cement pier installed by the park service in short order. The 2 mile long fiord like cove is considered a highlight amongst many Isle Royale paddlers and now I understood why. High cliff like bluffs encapsulate each side and the resultant rugged beauty coupled with the clear waters caused an inevitable reflective pause.
     Unable to resist we quickly rigged our rods in hopes of engaging some of the large but fickle northern pike that inhabit the cool Superior waters. Dan and I launched first and I let the gentle winds push me along the shoreline while I cast. Meanwhile Alex had decided to make a few casts off the cement dock while his Dad readied their canoe.
     My words will probably not do justice to the event that followed but I will endeavor to relate it as it was told to me. Alex had cast out a rather large floating-diving lure and while reeling in had turned his head to converse with his Dad when suddenly the water quite literally exploded. An enormous pike was 1/2 way out of the water with the lure clenched firmly in its jaws. The visage was so stunning that no action but wide eyed wonder was taken at the other end of the line. The behemoth, sensing a fake, let go its grip of the painted piece of wood and swam right up to the dock only a few feet from Alex, seemingly to taunt him. Alex, slowly recovering himself, made several casts but was unable to entice the fish further. He later stated that the fish was "huge" and "as big as me". Many pike are caught in Lake Superior waters between 20 and 30lbs so I, for one, don't doubt the veracity of the lads tale. As for Alex, he remained despondent and sullen for several hours after the incident as I'm sure he replayed the giant fishes strike and wondered.........."what if"?
     We traversed McCargo Cove in about 2 hours either casting or trolling under nearly ideal conditions. Upon landing at Birch Island the crux of our trip was now upon us. Would we be able to negotiate the 1.5 mile open water stretch of Lake Superior. We hiked across the tiny island to gain a view of Lake Superior proper and what she might offer. Although the day was especially calm I couldn't help but note the distinctive sound of heavy rollers hitting the shore. I was torn between giving it a go or waiting for the usual morning calm. To complicate matters a weather change was in the air. We could very likely awake to 5' whitecaps instead of calm waters. After a brief discussion our party opted for a morning crossing. There is no room for error in an open boat like a canoe on the frigid waters of Lake Superior. We decided to see what the morrow brought with the understanding that the Voyager 2 could be relied upon as a last resort as it made a stop in McCargo Cove three times per week.
     The wind increased during the night and I couldn't help but second guess our decision to stay. I had been in favor of waiting until morning and now the approaching front looked to be in the process of sabotaging our much anticipated tour of the "Five Fingers" region.

DAY 9, June 26
     There was no eagerness to depart the warmth of our sleeping bags. The noise of the wind and waves led to the assumption that our crossing was out of the question. But a casual glance of the conditions showed that the wind had shifted during the night and our crossing would be done in the lee of the big  island. Another glance at the sky forewarned us of imminent weather that would soon be upon us. A hasty departure was called for lest we miss our opportunity. Donning our rain jackets and life vests we greeted the oft referred "Lady". The cold air was like a wall, harsh but yet invigorating. We rode gentle swells amongst the rocky rugged shoreline for the 40 minutes it took to get to the short portage that led to the more protected waters we would traverse. We breakfasted on the rocky shore, our lightness of heart restored after negotiating the cruelly beautiful lake Superior shoreline.
     The short portage was done in a flash and the narrow, long and largely protected bays in which we would paddle amongst today was a welcome sight. Never one to miss a fishing opportunity I quickly set about rigging a trolling rod and landed a delicious lake trout in short order.
     I suggested to Tim and Alex that they do likewise and that prompts another tale concerning Alex. Naturally the father and son duo heeded my advice and soon thereafter they were paddling along with their rods firmly planted in rod holders, lures trailing happily behind. Suddenly Alex's rod bent double in a wide stiff arc. Alex was quick to suspect a rock and quickly instructed his Dad to turn the boat around to retrieve the errant lure. After some yanking and pulling it was with great surprise that the line was moving of its own accord! The math was quickly computed and exclamations of a fish of considerable size were raucously proclaimed. Minutes later an 8lb lake trout would make an appearance as a dinner guest.
     We arrived at Duncan Harbor in good time and were quite pleased at the campsite and the views it provided. The weather had taken a turn for the worse and again a park service shelter provided a dry sanctuary from the hard rain and occasional lightening strike.

DAY 10, June 27
     We had not fared well the previous evening in trying to get one of the Duncan Bay Pike to commit to eating. Today, however, we had a full day to concentrate our efforts. We all ventured forth in opposing directions hopeful of making a big fish connection. The day was truly stellar, the weather having settled from the previous evening. It was calm, sunny and the air seemed extremely clear. The lush green ridges and clear blue sky coupled with the hardness of the rock and perfect emerald green clarity of the water worked its magic and I was grateful to be in such a beautiful and spectacular place.
     The hours went by and my casts seemed as if being done by a machine. Coves and points and likely looking shore cover all received attention from a variety of offerings but to no avail. Still, given the surroundings, it was a pleasurable enough day. Hard effort is often rewarded and today that axiom proved true. I pulled into a still, small cove having a smattering of weeds. I could see bottom plainly enough in the crystal clear waters and for all intents and purposes it looked to be completely devoid of life. "Might as well" I muttered to myself as I tossed the big lure out. Immediately a missile rocketed up from the bottom, seemingly out of nowhere, and attacked the lure. A 5lb pike was quickly landed as one twice that size had followed his struggling brethren to the boats side. Another cast and another fish but this time it was a pike of some size who had decided to muscle its way in. Again I flung the big lure out only to have it followed by another pike in the 10lb class. It stopped at the boats side and we eyed each other. I let the lure sink slowly and then gave it a little hop. In the wink of an eye the fish struck and I swung and missed! Fun stuff here!
     I decided to press on and sample the rest of the small bay. I was most of the way around without so much as a strike when I looked into the water only to see a pike pushing 20lbs glide by. A hopeful quick cast proved inconsequential and all I could do about it was smile.

DAY 11: June 28
     Today was our last full day on the island before we were to grab the ferry home so we decided on doing a bushwack to a small lake that I had some previous experience on. An early start was attained and firmly fortified with oats and coffee we geared up for the unexpected and ventured forth eager to see what the day had in store.
     As per my custom I chucked a large lure to trail behind as I made my way to the agreed upon portage. I hadn't gone 20 feet when the stiff musky rod bent double and I instantly knew I was into a good fish. I snatched the rod from the rod holder just in time to feel the fish power the heavy line off the reel in a sustained burst. My thinking instantly went from my adversary being a "good fish" to perhaps being a "very good fish". Another burst put the fish into some tall weeds where I could feel it shaking its head trying to remove the big marabou spinner. Eager to pry the fish out before another run put the fish into the weeds even deeper I applied more pressure.
     I will never know just how big the fish was as the line finally had enough pressure on it to give way. What happened next will forever be implanted in my canoeing DNA. Yup, over I went! The sudden release of tension sent my body sideways just as easily as you please. I remember being perpendicular to the water just before I went completely over and how strange everything looked sideways.
     I found myself with the boat upside down and my head just barely above water. I was hanging onto my vessel but was not especially comfortable with my new found position. At that moment my hydrostatic inflatable PFD went off and the 35lbs of buoyancy burst forth and floated my head free of the water. My next thought was to give a holler to my companions who had outdistanced me a considerable length. I grabbed my capsized vessel and commenced kicking toward shore. Fortunately the wind aided my efforts and 10 minutes later I reached shore just as my companions arrived. I was flabbergasted to find that somehow, in spite of lying loosely, both of my rod and reel combos had somehow managed to stay with me. The outfit I had been holding was actually floating and bobbing along behind the boat with my paddle right alongside of it. In fact, every single article of gear, from dry bags to bailer and all my fishing tackle was present and accounted for. Rather odd to say the least!
     After a brief discussion, in which mental notes were taken and filed about what not to do with heavy line and a big fish, we made our way back to camp where I dried off and put fresh clothes on. Soon thereafter a Park Ranger appeared and the tale was retold. After further pleasantries the Ranger informed us of the potential for severe weather. This revelation prompted some chatter amongst our group and it was decided to change our plans and take advantage of the cool, dry and sunny day to traverse our most difficult portage immediately instead of giving it a go when the rock was wet. Besides the snack bar, replete with burgers and sodas was beckoning.
     The .8 mile portage was by far the toughest in the park. Its steepness required switchbacks to gain the crest of the Greenstone Ridge. But all was done under perfect conditions and we took the big portage in stride. That afternoon found our party back at Rock Harbor and reminiscing about a very satisfactory trip over a cheeseburger and fries.

IF YOU GO:
     Isle Royale is indeed a beautiful place. The park service does a fine job in maintaining portages and trails. Portages may be long (ours were usually 1/2 mile in length) but they are generally dry, well marked and in good shape.
     The weather and the cold Lake Superior waters are your primary concern. We endured a week of cold, rainy and windy weather. As a result, one in our party could of been in potential trouble due primarily to rain gear that did not perform as advertised (in spite of being high dollar). For the most part we fared very well as we were amply supplied with gore-tex, fleece, wool and down. The backcountry of Isle Royale is no place for cotton and cheap ponchos. You must be prepared to deal with very cool nights and the potential for long bouts of wind and rain. Influencing the weather is Lake Superior. Even in summer the water temperature is very, very cold. Needless to say if you overturn a boat far from shore without assistance the consequences could be dire indeed.
     The planning is easy as there is much information both in print and on the web concerning paddling or hiking on the island. Give it a go, you might find it much as I did, an overlooked gem!

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