Lake Michigan Beach

The following is a description of a 19-day adventure to Isle Royale National Park. The trip includes driving more than 900 miles to Copper Harbor and back, a ferry over the rough water of Lake Superior and two weeks of hiking to one end of the 45-mile long island and back. Part two of the drive there took me from Grayling, MI, across the Upper Peninsula, and finally arriving at Copper Harbor, nearly at the end of the Keweenaw Peninsula.

Section Stats:
Date: August 28, 2011
Length: appoximately 400 miles
Difficulty: Very Easy

The next morning dawns with clear skies, much like the day before. Hopefully such blue skies will hold out for the entire duration of my trip upon Isle Royale.

I gobble down a few granola bars for breakfast, pack up my car, check out of the Ramada Inn and get some gas before getting back on the road for another long day of driving. The on ramp for I-75 is nowhere to be seen. After following many signs seemingly taking me on a cruise of Grayling and the entire surrounding area to the north (including the white-knuckling encounter with a white-tailed deer crossing the road), I finally get back on the interstate and start making some forward progress.

While hustling along I-75 (where the speed limit for cars is 70 mph), I notice a plethora of billboard sings advertising a place with the enigmatic name of Mystery Spot. Each of these signs sports a giant, white question mark on a red circular background bordered in white; providing not a single clue to the attraction‘s nature. The signs do throw around adjectives such as amazing, weird, baffling and incredible though. I wonder whether the adjectives are referring to the attraction or effectiveness of this unique marketing scheme. P.T. Barnum’s famous quote echoes through my mind every time I see another billboard flashing the giant, yellow question mark.

Only a couple hours after leaving Grayling, I arrive at the Mackinac Bridge. This suspension bridge, the world‘s third longest, spans the Straits of Mackinac, the channel connecting Lakes Michigan and Huron. The bridge is massive; it was within sight well before ever reaching the toll booth at the bridge’s base. As paid my toll, the bridge appeared as a ribbon of concrete and steel arching over the open water with no end in sight.

Of all the bridges I crossed this is the one I regret most driving across; I would have greatly preferred to be in the passenger’s seat to enjoy the expansive view of Lake Michigan on one side and Lake Huron on the other. The distance above the water is so great, the boats below appear as little toys way below. Enjoying the view is difficult since the road is narrow, made more so by the extensive amount of construction. Driving over the metal mesh not only made the steering challenging but created a weird hypnotic hum.

Immediately upon descending the rather lengthy suspension bridge, I stop at an Upper Peninsula tourist office to hit the restroom and decide upon which of the two routes I would follow from this point onward. The two routes from the Internet diverged at this point; one heading directly into the middle of the peninsula before heading west while the other continued west along the northern coast of Lake Michigan before later converging with the other route farther west.

Begging Ring-billed Gull

While bent over a map on a picnic table, a friendly ring-billed gull saunters up to me. The gull shows absolutely no fear; it just stares at me with those dark, unblinking eyes. I ponder the thought process of a bird expecting a handout from an unsuspecting tourist. When I finish a plum, I toss the pit onto the side walk and the gull flies down onto it like a hawk swooping down to feast on a rodent. After picking it up several times in its beak, the gull loses interest in both the pit and me, wandering away aimlessly along the sidewalk; perhaps searching for a tourist more susceptible to intimidation.

I do not tarry long at the tourist office, picking up just a few brochures before getting back on the road. I decide to head directly west along Route 2, instead of continuing through St. Ignace; abandoning all hope of ever finding out exactly what the Mystery Spot is all about.

U.S. Route 2 is a very scenic road, with its frequent views of Lake Michigan as it hugs the shoreline, sometimes just dozens of feet from the water’s edge. Initially, the road precedes though a very kitschy area, with an abundant amount of unique places whose whole purpose appears to be removing wealth from the unsuspecting rubes touring the area. It reminds me of the Old Forge area, or the one I recall from my youth before the Enchanted Forest became a water park. I resist the temptation to stop and investigate some of the more appealing attractions, but a seed of a fantastical idea of traveling the country exploring such spots has been firmly planted. Perhaps when I retire and can no longer perform long distance hikes.

I stop along the road at one point where Lake Michigan is a mere stone’s throw from the highway, separated by a line of grassy vegetation and a beach. Numerous paths through grassy vegetation lead to a boardwalk along the beach, occasionally providing a path down to the beach. Although several beach houses stand along the opposite side of the road, there is no indication these paths are not open to the public. The boardwalk continues through the grassy vegetation, frequently nearly buried in the fine, tan sand. At a sandy path, I exit the boardwalk and struggle through the dry sand to walk along the shore.

Northern Lake Michigan Beach

It is nice to get out and walk a little after being sequestered within my car for a large majority of the last two days. Several high clouds whip through the bright blue sky over the waters of Lake Michigan. The setting is so attractive it is easy to forget the highway is just over a shallow sandy ridge behind me. After walking down the beach for a ways I return to my car and resume my journey westward.

The construction along the Lake Michigan Scenic Highway is seemingly endless. At one point, the entire road is detoured off the original road bed; just a single lane in each direction, over temporary blacktop, slanted off toward the ditch. The going is very slow, especially given the steady traffic, mostly coming from the west. Obviously, many people are returning from their summer weekend in the Upper Peninsula, just as they exodus from the Adirondacks on a sunny, summer Sunday afternoon.

I am thankful for the turn north on M-77, hoping to leave the excess amount of construction well behind me. The surrounding landscape changes drastically along this road, from beach front along Lake Michigan to rolling, farm land as I drive northward toward M-28, where I will renew my westward journey. The farm land gives way to wetlands as I pass by the Seney National Wildlife Refuge. I yearn to stop for some exploring, but I fight off the temptation once again as my time is limited and I want to get to arrive in Copper Harbor before darkness falls.

After turning west along M-28, the landscape turns decidedly more Adirondack-like, with roads through coniferous forests, interspersed with extensive bogs and small, dilapidated communities. The areas begging exploration are legion here, but I struggle through the temptation and continue on as the afternoon drags on.

Just past Munising, I pass through a village with the name of Christmas, MI. This tiny community misses no opportunity capitalizing on its namesake, with a giant Santa Claus shaped sign, an actual North Pole (i.e. a large pole with a sign reading North Pole) and numerous other establishments based on the holiday theme. Being immersed in all this holiday spirit fills me with the dread of struggling over lists, while fighting through crowds of other desperate people at the mall; I excessively speed through the town, leaving behind the feelings for at least several more months (or at least until my return trip).

M-28 follows along the southern shore of Lake Superior past Munising, giving frequent impressive sites of this large freshwater lake. I avoid stopping as much as possible, as it is getting later and there is much distance yet to be traveled before the end of the day’s journey. There will be plenty of time (or at least more) for picture taking on my journey back in mid-September, or so the wishful thinking goes.

Most of my stops are for practical purposes such as getting something to drink or answering nature’s call. On one such stop at a mostly-closed tourist office along Lake Superior, I encounter a group of bicyclists. When a young bicyclist samples the water fountain, he looks as if he is about to puke. Upon complaining about the awful taste (and it is true, it is awful as I sampled it before him), his elderly companion told him it would build muscles. Other than those involved in reverse-peristalsis, I do not see how.

Just before reaching the city of Marquette, M-28 merges with US-41. After Marquette, the road heads inland for a while before US-41 turns north and M-28 continues west. I stay on US-41 as my journey takes me north onto the Keweenaw Peninsula. Soon I am reacquainted with Lake Superior at L’Anse.

Around 5 PM, I find myself driving into Houghton, MI. US-41 continues right through the center of the city, bisecting Michigan Technological University, and at one point becoming a cobblestone road. As I continue through downtown, I spot the sign for the Isle Royale National Park headquarters. Although a boat can be taken from this location (M.V. Ranger III), it requires a six-hour boat ride, due to its greater distance from the island and the amount of time it takes to move through the channel out into Lake Superior.

After a brief stop for gas and a beverage, I drive the remaining distance toward Copper Harbor, a mere 50 minutes or so north. Although the scenery begins with old mines and their communities, the last ten miles are completely forested with straggly paper birches and other stunted trees. The narrow road whines through the forest, aggressive curves keeping me from ever reaching a reasonable speed. When the road exits the forest and reaches an intersection, I am overjoyed to realize I am in Copper Harbor. And at just a little after 6 PM Eastern time too.

Copper Harbor is a quaint, little village, obviously catering to tourists given the number of motels, restaurants and assorted gift shops. Unfortunately much of it is closed on a late summer Sunday evening. This means my dinner consists of the remaining peppers and fruit that I lugged all the way from Syracuse two days ago. After two days in a cooler, the peppers are less than appealing; a lot less.

After checking in at the Bella Vista Motel, I locate the building with my room, eager to unpack my car and get a few hours of relaxation in before having to head to bed for an early morning tomorrow. The parking for the ferry starts at about 7 AM, so I have to get an early start tomorrow.

Bella Vista Motel

Bella Vista Motel

The Bella Vista Motel consists of numerous buildings; all painted a faded red color with white trim, each with its own type of accommodations. A number of cottages lie scattered about on one side of a central grassy courtyard, while a traditional row of motel rooms lies along the opposite harbor shoreline, with a nice view of the lake. At the far end the courtyard is a two story building, appropriately called Isle Royale House. There is where my room resides.

Recognizing it from the pictures on their website, I head for the Isle Royale House. Creaky, outside stairs climb to a carpeted second story porch providing access to the second story rooms. I head to room 3 with little delay, checking the mattress for bed bugs before unloading all my stuff for the night. Before beginning the unloading process, I admire the pretty view of the harbor from the porch; the Royale Queen ferry’s dock clearly in view behind some power lines.

As I am unpacking, I witness the ferry approaching the dock, obviously returning from Isle Royale. The once quiet area suddenly bursts with activity, as an exodus of people and their cars ensues. One group containing a mixture of middle-aged women and youths sets siege on Isle Royale House; the post- hiking stench permeates my room, even with the door closed. In two short weeks, the stench will be all mine.

Docked Isle Royale Queen ferry

Isle Royale House second story porch

After watching the news about Hurricane Irene’s progress on TV, I take a walk around Copper Harbor. The hours of driving the past two days, combined with the excitement of tomorrow’s adventure, makes it exceedingly difficult to sit still for long. Much of town remains shuttered late on a Sunday evening, but I discover three different pay phones, so I decide to make a call home to report of my trip’s progress thus far.

The first phone has no dial tone but repeatedly beeps at me when I put money in it; unfortunately it does little else. The second one turns out to be just the remains of a phone booth, with no actual phone to be found anywhere. The third one, located down by the dock, actually has a dial tone but nothing happens regardless of how much money I feed to it. I should have called last night, or maybe I should invest in a cellphone. Although, I am not sure there is even any reception here.

Returning to my room, I perform as much last minute packing as is possible for tomorrow. The remaining time I spend watching the limited selection of TV channels before settling in to bed fairly early. Tomorrow starts the main attraction of the trip, and I want to be fully rested before setting out for an eight mile backpack after a three hour boat ride.

I wonder if I will dream of the island adventures to come. I just hope they include both wolves and moose.

Isle Royale House Room 3

Isle Royale House Room 3

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