The Big Island

 

This was to be a splendidly rugged hike.  We drove to Baraga state Park in Michigan and made it by late afternoon.  With little else to do our group sang and drank enough to be sure to start the hike hung over.  It was crazy hot and we put Amy’s insulin in the cooler for safety, that was almost a critical error and luckily for Amy’s checking and double checking her gear we found it before loading the ferry for a a6 hour ride across Lake Superior to Isle Royale’s eastern edge on the Ranger III.  WE had woke up to a massive down pour and without words to other in the group (Adam, Craig, Lisa, Becca) we rolled up the big tent and tossed it into the back of the Subaru.  The rain cleared up by the time we got to Copper Harbor and we switched out or wet gear for dry. The trip on the Ranger allowed everyone to catch up on sleep and we watched a great presentation about photographing and hiking on the island.  With packs on our backs and boots laced up we hit the big island and headed for Daisey Farm.  It was a pretty nice camp, complete with pit toilets and a big pavilion to cook under.  Along the way to Daisy Farm, we caught a short spur trail to check out Suzie’s’ Cave and another to see an old Siskowit Mine Shaft.  Moose sign was everywhere.  Amy caught her fishing line on a tree and ran out the whole spool until the drag set in.  We wound up the line and she wound up with “Snagger” for a trail name.  Camp broke early enough and after some coffee and oatmeal we struck out on the Greenstone trail and made for East Chicken Bone Lake.  This part of the trail had some high brambles and high sun.  We made a wrong turn on a canoe portage and trekked downhill only to have to return demoralized, before getting to camp.  There were only 3 wolves on the island at this point and about 1500 moose, but we had not seen either.  WE did find some of the moose bones along the trail from winter kills.  We hiked from camp to Lake Ritchie and Amya and I were spending greater amounts of time away from the noise and speed of the group.  Preferring the solitude, pace and company of each other rather than the herd.  Lake Ritchie was gorgeous.  There was a trail crew there although no campsites. Luckily a one-armed man named Jon offered to share his site with us. Amy and I borrowed the canoe from the trail crew and paddled along the weeded shores of the lake at dusk hoping to see a moose.

Back at camp Adam, Heavy Sack, shared the four bottle of wine he had been carrying.  Amy and I had left our booze in the car, assuming we would never want that Devil Juice again.  As we packed up the next morning on of the island’s foxes came for a visit and looking for scraps.  We hiked almost entirely by ourselves to the next camp at Moskey Basin and enjoyed the large granite out crops and blueberries.  Moskey Basin had camp shelters, 3-sided wood structures with screen to make the place habitable in the buggy season.  The bugs were almost non-existent this time of year but the shelter at Moskey Basin provided us with other needs just the same.  The walls inside had been painted watercolor stories of the Islands animals and plants like neo-cave paintings.  The hike from Ritchie to Moskey was a short day and Craig, FoxPiss,  shared popcorn and lemonade tonics with the group.  The nights are short and the days are long with the sun still bright at 10:30pm. The hike back to Rock Harbor from Moskey was a long hike and the boulder pounding was hard on my feet. By the time we got to Rock Harbor at day’s end.  We set up camp and headed for the showers and Pub to eat a lot of brown fried food…we had earned it as we laughed about seeing a moose only a mile from the trip’s end.