Rock Harbor to Mt. Franklin, and Saying Farewell to Isle Royale NP

 Isle Royale continuted:

Well, it's happened again. Over a month has gone by with no blog post. I was getting ready for my first show of the season, which happened to be all the way down in Houston, Texas, the last weekend in March. I had a lot to get ready, then four days total on the road, one day for set up, three days for the show, with a couple of days for birding on Galveston Island thrown in. I always think I will have more time than I do, and I just never managed to get to my office and finish this series. And so....

I had worked it out with John that I would be on the first boat back to Rock Harbor Tuesday morning. We loaded a bunch of gear into the skiff and Alan piloted the boat back to civilization. John and I picked out a shelter for our group to use. It was going to be a tight fit, with six of us squeezing in.

Once we were settled I got ready for my hike up Mt. Franklin. I was going to have to hoof it if I was to make it back in time for dinner. It is a nine mile hike up and back, so I figured if I left Rock Harbor by 11 am I would have time for lunch at the summit and then be able to get back down by 6 pm, get changed and ready for dinner at 7 pm. I borrowed a small backpack from John to carry rain gear, lunch and a miscellany of other things, and stepped onto the trail.

Before I had even left Rock Harbor, I ran into Sarah. Remember Sarah? She is the retired nurse I met on the Ranger III who was doing a seven day backpacking trip. Solo. With borrowed equipment. Never having backpacked before. I was quite relieved to see her, actually, and she told me all about her adventures and misadventures. She was sporting a black eye, compliments of one of many falls on the trail. But the parks folks had kept an eye on her, and given her permission to stay several nights at Three Mile campground (the first along the trail west from Rock Harbor and usually a one night only campground), then OK'd her to return to Rock Harbor and stay in a shelter for several nights. I suspect they figured that would be easier on them than having to go rescue her in the backcountry. It was decided that I would share her shelter as she was alone in it, freeing up some space in ours. Once I finally began my hike I was 15 minutes behind schedule.

I don't like hiking in a hurry. I like to take my time and see things and catch my breath. But I didn't have that luxury if I wanted to make it back in time for dinner, so I set a quick pace. My plan was to get to the top with enough time to eat and relax for a little while, then I'd know how fast I had to come back down.

Tobin Harbor Trail towards Mt. Franklin/Three Mile campground.

I really had to resist the urge to stop and look at flowers and butterflies, though there were a few things that forced me to stop, like these Red-breasted mergansers resting on a log.

Red-breasted mergansers, a life bird that I saw several times on this trip.

Calypso orchids lined the trail, along with many other wildflowers. June is the time to go if you're into plants!

Calypso orchids along the Tobin Harbor trail.

Butterflies were everywhere, all different kinds. This tiger swallowtail was feeding on blue-bead lilly flowers.

Tiger swallowtail.

Once the Tobin Harbor trail meets the trail for Mt. Franklin it takes a turn to the north, and crosses Tobin Creek, the marshy area at the west end of Tobin Harbor.

Boardwalk across Tobin Creek.

Up and up the trail climbs, passing a beaver pond where later I saw Wood and Ring-necked ducks.

Beaver pond.

After four and a half miles I finally reached the summit and the famous Greenstone Trail. A left turn took me to a look out over Belle Harbor and to Canada in the distance. I sat down, took off my boots and socks, and ate lunch.

View from Mt. Franklin.

Belle Harbor in the foreground, Canada in the distance.

The rocky summit was covered with wild columbine, and the sound of bees and birdsong filled the air.

Columbine along the Greenstone.

As it turns out, I did not actually reach the official summit of Mt. Franklin. Several hundred feet farther down the trail, past some trees, is the marker for the peak, I later learned. I didn't know this at the time, and I was tired enough when I got there to not care all that much. After 30-45 minutes I put my boots back on, shouldered my pack (which would give me a headache later on--no hip belt), and headed back down towards Rock Harbor. I was able to pace myself going down and spent some time photographing the flora along the way, including this Ram's head orchid.

Ram's head orchid along Mt. Franklin trail.

I had seen these poplars on the way up, but they were not so impressive from that angle. Coming back down they seemed to soar over the trail.

I spotted this old pile of wolf scat along the trail too. I even picked a tooth out of it, a canine from some smallish rodent, but I managed to loose it on the way home.

Wolf scat, with boot for scale.

Back on the Tobin Harbor trail I had the sun to my back, and I took a little more time to enjoy the views of the harbor. The trail also served as a butterfly highway, and I could see their shadows on the path in front of me as they approached from behind. They fluttered along in both directions, narrowly missing me as I walked along.

Tobin Harbor.

I made it back to Rock Harbor with plenty of time to get ready for dinner and stretch out sore muscles. I was exhausted--I don't know if I've ever hiked nine miles in a day, and I was not in particularly good shape. But, it's good to know my limits, and that I can take on such a hike as this and still be able to function.

It was a long night sleeping in the shelter, as I had finally gotten used to sleeping alone in my tent. I was warm enough, but Sarah snored, and I tossed and turned a lot. At dawn I got up and got my gear packed and onto one of the carts to be loaded onto the Ranger III, then made my way to the restaurant for a group breakfast. John and Allen had come up for breakfast and to make sure we all got on the boat.

The Ranger III at Rock Harbor.

It was another glorious day, and a fine one for the trip back to Houghton. I know we got very lucky with the weather, especially for those trips across Superior. It can be a very rough ride in bad weather, and many people experience terrible seasickness. I would suggest keeping Dramamine on hand just in case.

Leaving Rock Harbor aboard the Ranger III

I can't say enough what an amazing experience this was. I worked with some wonderful people, had some amazing experiences, and really fell in love with the place. I am looking forward to going back some day.

On the Stoll Memorial Trail, Isle Royale NP

Isle Royale continued:

Thursday dawned as clear and bright as the first two days on the island, and after breakfast Liz and I took a short boat trip to Minong Island to do some painting at the Stack cottage. What an amazing place that was (but for some reason I did not get any pictures!). The house sits on the very tip of the island (see map below) and has amazing views of the end of Tobin Harbor and the great expanse of Lake Superior beyond. It is a castle compared to the other dwellings on the island--huge living room, three sizable bedrooms and a great big kitchen. The whole place is full of big windows, with a whole wall of them on the east side, and a covered porch off the kitchen. It would be an amazing place for the Artist-in-Residence, except for two things--it's on an island, so one could easily be cut off for days in bad weather, and there are no pit toilets, due to the thinness of the soil on Minong. That means chemical toilets only, which require more care, and I suppose they don't trust folks to take care of them properly.

Map showing Dassler and Stack dwellings and the Stoll Trail.

Liz and I worked on one of the two outhouses behind the cottage. Before we arrived the roofs had been removed, and while we scraped and painted the exterior on one outhouse, a few of the guys were busy replacing the roof on the second outhouse. The interior was empty, its floor having rotted out some time ago, but there was still a roll of tissue hanging inside, under this really cute folk art fish. We did not touch the interior.

Outhouse artwork at Stack cottage.

Friday, our third full day on the island, was our day off. Mary and I had decided to take a hike into Rock Harbor, maybe take showers, get some lunch, and do a little shopping at the gift store. It was another glorious day, and we were on the trail by 9 am.

Black duck in the cove near Dassler--another new bird!

Zack and Liz decided to spend their day off hiking from Daisy Farm, where they were dropped off, up to Mt. Franklin and back to Dassler, a jaunt of about 12 miles. That seemed much too ambitious for me, although I would undertake a similar hike later on.

Zack, Liz, John and Allen in our skiff.  Just look at that beautifully calm water! 

The views from the Stoll Memorial Trail, which runs from Rock Harbor to Scoville Point along the south side of the peninsula, were just stunning. Every view of the water and landscape was magical.

Dassler sleeping cabin from Scoville Point. The main cabin is hidden in the trees on the end of the point.

Up on Scoville Point

Stoll Memorial Trail. It amazes me that trees can grow in such a harsh climate in such thin soil.

We stopped a lot to watch birds and examine flowers. It took us over two hours to hike the two miles to Rock Harbor!

Calypso orchids. June is orchid season and I saw quite a few on the island.

Stoll Memorial Trail--yes, that's a trial that zigs to the right a bit.

Mary and I stopped here for a snack.

The whole hike was pure eye candy. I wanted to melt into the scenery.

We did finally make it to Rock Harbor, and had a wonderful lunch at the cafe. I devoured a veggie burger. I don't think there's anything better than a burger when you're really hungry. We were both shocked to discover that tokens for the showers were six bucks, so we decided to wash our hair in a bucket back at camp, even though we'd dragged towels and clean clothes with us.  I picked up a few T-shirts at the gift shop and had another ice cream sandwich before we started back.

Rock Harbor with the Isle Royale Queen IV at the docks. That boat sails from Copper Harbor, at the tip of the Keewenaw. It is therefore a shorter boat ride as it eliminates the hour the Ranger III spends in the canal, but it's also a longer drive to get there, and a smaller boat to take across Superior. Bigger is better, if you ask me!

We found John and Allen sitting on the patio outside the restaurant, enjoying their own ice cream, and we joked about how long it took Mary and I to hike two miles. As if to prove our point, not 20 feet down the path, and still within sight of them, I spotted this crossbill perched on the top of a spruce. Of course I had to stop and take pictures, and I could hear them laughing.

Female Red crossbill, another first! You can just see the hook at the end of her bill.

We had a close encounter with a Kestrel on the return hike. We were just entering a clearing when this bird flew towards us across the open space, and went to land in a tree near the trail. It appeared to spot us at the last moment and veered off, landing in a snag perhaps 30 feet off the trail. I thought at first it had a stick in its talons, but it turned out to be a black snake, whose head the bird had apparently already bitten off. He watched us watch him for a while, then he flew off.

Male Kestrel with a black snake, on the Stoll Memorial Trail.

Then finally, near the end of our hike, I was able to get a decent shot of a Yellow-rumped warbler. These little guys where everywhere, but I did not have very good equipment with me so getting a good shot was not easy. I had lent my small travel binoculars to Mary since I had my camera, and she was really getting into watching the birds the time we reached Scoville Point. She stood for some time admiring this bird, and declared that I just might have made a birder out of her!

The ubiquitous Yellow-rumped warbler.

Back at the cabin everyone was taking bets as to when Liz and Zack would make it back. It was after 8:00 before they staggered into the cabin, so I estimate they spent nine or ten hours on the trail. Of course, we'd taken seven hours to go four miles (although we were in Rock Harbor for over an hour). I cooked my last meal of the trip, a big pot of black bean chili. Mary made cornbread and fixed a salad, and we had quite a feast.

Next: Weekend weather delays