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 first day finds me spending some time in Rock Harbor before heading off on my first day of hiking.

Section Stats:
Date: August 29, 2011
Length: Marginal
Difficulty: Easy

After being buffeted around by the Lake Superior’s rough waters, it is exciting to finally be stepping off the Isle Royale Queen IV ferry and placing my Garmont hiking boots on the island itself. Or at least the large cement dock situated at its shoreline. Unfortunately, the dark, swirling clouds overhead did not comprise the welcoming committee I was hoping for when I planned my trip a month ago.

My position at the bow of the boat during the approach forces me to be one of the last of the passengers to depart. Upon reaching the dock and thanking the captain for a safe journey, I quickly join the crowd forming a rather chaotic line on the dock, eager to retrieve my equipment (my fully packed Pinnacle backpack, two hiking poles and two fuel bottles) and begin the day’s long hike.

A park ranger announces to all the waiting passengers to form into two different groups to obtain the mandatory orientation after the ferry is fully unloaded. The two groups consist of people staying at the lodge or just on the island for the day, and those journeying into the backcountry. When I finally get my hands on my stuff, I wander over to the backcountry group and survey my potential competition for a decent camping site tonight.

The backcountry orientation is impressively presented by an excitable park ranger named Casey. Casey’s enthusiasm for his subject is almost overwhelming, as he covers all the dos and don’ts of Isle Royale. Much of the orientation entails summarizing the Leave No Trace ethics, and therefore much of it is “old hat” to more experienced backcountry enthusiasts, such as myself.

Unfortunately, Casey has an annoying propensity for using the term “New York minute.” As the only representative of the fine state of New York (although not a denizen of New York City), I am possibly the most annoyed with his overuse of the expression. About half way through his spiel, I find myself wishing I kept count.

The highlights of Casey’s orientation consist of the following Isle Royale tidbits:

• Isle Royale National Park is one of the smaller national parks but because of its size it has more visitors per unit area than any of the other parks; its remote location restricts the number of visitors but it has the highest rate of return visitors of any other park.
• The only potable water is at the “civilized” ends of the island at Rock Harbor and Windigo; we should assume all other water supplies are contaminated with tapeworm eggs, and therefore must be boiled for a minimum of 2 minutes or filtered, chemical treatment is not affective.
• All food should be stored either in a shelter (preferably your own) or in a tent; since there are no bears on the island, the most likely thieves are red fox, red squirrel and an assortment of mice. I am uncertain how a flimsy tent can prove an impenetrable barrier to the teeth of a red squirrel.
• Keep possession close since fox and squirrel have been known to steal more than just food; a fox running off with a hiking boot or camera is not unheard of here.
• Do not pick any wild plants; picking and stuffing one’s face with wild berries is permissible though.
• Moose encounters are common on the island; although there are no records of moose attacks on hikers, we should keep a safe distance and watch for signs of aggressive behavior. Male moose tend to be more aggressive during the rut, which starts around the end of the current month; females, when calves are present, can also be aggressive, especially when the calves are young in the spring.
• In the case that a moose displays aggressive behavior, hiding behind a tree is an effective strategy of escaping harm; apparently, moose have very short memories, and out of sight is literally out of mind for them.
• Encountering wolves is very rare; if any of us should prove so lucky as to see one then enjoy watching it, take as many photographs as we would like and then do everything we can to make the animal want to get as far away as possible (including, singing if one cannot carry a tune) so as to prevent any chance of it acclimating to human presence. All wolf encounters should be reported to either the Ranger’s Station in Rock Harbor or Windigo.

At some point during his presentation, Casey mentions that blueberries and thimbleberries are abundant along the trail now, and, more importantly, very delicious. Thoughts of thimbleberries instantly fill my head, so much so that the taste of these succulent, large, dark purple berries manifests itself on my tongue. In central New York, these berries arrive in late summer and typically are not in such high numbers as red raspberries and black raspberries. I look forward to devouring many these berries along the trail, and I make a mental note to be on the look-out for them. Unfortunately, no one mentions the regional difference in common names to me or some later confusion could have been averted.

At the end of the orientation, Casey instructs us to provide an itinerary of our trip and obtain a permit before heading out on the trail. Everyone immediately piles into the visitors office, and as usual I am furthest away from the office, and therefore left in the rear of the line. Instead of passively waiting in line, I peruse the assortment of merchandise for sale at the opposite end of the office. There is a wide selection of books, posters and other Isle Royale memorabilia for sale, but nothing jumps out and says “BUY ME!”

When the line has finally dissipated, I recite my itinerary to the waiting ranger, while she fills it out on the proper form. She informs me that I must carry the permit on my backpack while hiking, and then transfer it to either a shelter or my tent when I set up camp. I neglect to inquire whether it stays at the campsite or one should carry it on a day hike. Luckily, my itinerary is pretty aggressive, and therefore the opportunities for day hiking are quite limited.

The permit is just a card, listing each of the campsites I plan on staying at, and the number of days at each. With only the single exception of Washington Creek, my plan is to only stay a single night at any one location. This schedule should get me back to Rock Harbor the day before the ferry leaves on September 12. The permit is folded and placed in a thick, plastic zippered, outfitted with a long, red twist tie for attaching it to a backpack, tent or shelter.

After fastening the permit to my backpack, I take a short walk through of the Rock Harbor store. The store’s location is directly across from the ranger’s office, adjacent to the ferry’s dock. The store contains the typical small, miscellaneous backpacking accessories, in addition to an assortment of backpacking food. Between my well-packed Pinnacle backpack, my resupply box at Windigo and the monopoly-style prices, I am pretty sure I have everything I need for the two week hike.

On my way out of the store, I inquire from the young lady behind the cash register about the satellite phone. She directs me over to the Lodge Office, just to the north, at the end of the docks. I grab my pack and hiking poles, and head for the office with a plan to make a quick phone call to notify my parents that I am not bleeding in a ditch somewhere, but actually made it to the island.

From the Ranger’s office/store building, a wide paved walkway follows along the shore of Rock Harbor toward the lodge, where a series of smaller, temporary docks line the shoreline. When the walkway forks, I veer right toward several buildings, instead of heading uphill off into the forest. After passing one of the two restaurants, I quickly find the centrally located office building. My amazingly wilderness-honed navigation skills lead me directly to the correct building, although I must admit, the sign reading “Office” helps somewhat.

One of the several office attendants behind the counter instructs me on the use of the satellite phone. Most likely it is differs little from the operation of a typical cell phone, but since my Reform Luddism beliefs prevent me from owning such a phone, I ask the attendant to go through its operation twice. He made a point of notifying me several times that the charges are by the minute, and accumulate immediately, so any partial minutes are charged as if the whole minute were used. He suggests using the guest deck attached to the building behind the office as a perfect place to make my call.

The guest deck overlooks Rock Harbor and attaches to the green-roofed building I saw when the Isle Royale Queen IV approached the island just a short time ago. There are only a few people mingling about but their chatting, combined with the sound of the wind and waves, made hearing the phone difficult to say the least.

My attempt to make the call as short as possible (as I am not only a Reform Luddite, but a frugal Reform Luddite) is thwarted when it takes almost a minute just to explain to my parents where I am. When it finally sinks in, my mother’s first question is “Do you like it?” to which I tersely reply “I just got here!” My attempt to thwart any potential worrying is quickly dashed by their rather cavalier attitude, so I explain to them the cost and make a quick end to the conversation.

Upon returning to the office, the attendant notifies me that the call lasted 3 minutes and 19 seconds. Damn, I could have talked for 41 more seconds! After charging a total of $7.80 on my credit card for the most expensive phone ever, it is now time to finally get under way and head for the Daisy Farm campsite.

After doubling back toward the Ranger’s office, I take a gravel path uphill heading further inland and into the surrounding forests.

Finally, my Isle Royale hiking adventure begins….

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