Todd Harbor shoreline
By the time I arrive at Todd Harbor Campground the light rain is a full-on rain. Not a down pour, by any means, just a steady rain. Even suiting up in my North Face rain jacket
Maybe it is the rain and the dark clouds, but I am less than impressed by Todd Harbor, especially given the lauds attributed to it from Jim DuFresne’s book
The dock is on the opposite side of the harbor, closer to the group campsites. The trail to the dock goes through some tall herbaceous vegetation just off the water’s shore, now most certainly soaked. A rocky shoreline curves around to the dock, giving a much drier option than taking the trail, when, and if, I choose to explore the opposite shoreline later.
Section Stats:
Date: August 31, 2011
Length: 0.8 miles (0.8 total daily miles; 24.7 total trip miles)
Difficulty: Easy, but wet
The forest along shore is open, with many of the campsites surrounded by grass and other vegetation. The majority are wet now, with the dirty and dusty sites becoming muddier by the moment. One of the nicer campsites is along the water and under a few large spruces. Unfortunately, it is taken by a younger couple, who sit at their picnic table wrapped in colorful rain gear.
When I walk toward the shelter I can hear talking coming from within so I keep searching for a suitable campsite beyond. Many of the campsites seem small and open to the falling rain drops. Finally, the last one (coincidently numbered #1) shows promise with a short trail to the shoreline for water access and partial canopy for sheltering from the rain. Unfortunately, it is located only a stone’s throw from the main trail. Well, nothing is perfect, especially when trying to get out of the rain quickly.
View Day Three, Part Three in a larger map
Without delay, I attempt to put up my tarp as quickly as possible even though the rain tappers off to a slight drizzle. Red squirrels scold me continuously as I scurry to secure my tarp, difficult in even the ideal circumstances. Or perhaps the squirrels are simply berating each other, or the falling rain.
After finishing with the tarp, I start filtering water and setting up camp as well as can be in the rain. Although the rain tappers off some, it never completely ceases. The wet instigates me to being my dinner early, while the rain is ebbing, just in case it returns later. The sky remains dark and overcast, and during my preparations it starts raining again. Taking shelter under the forest canopy along the water access trail, I am able to avoid the bulk of the light rain falling while preparing and quickly ingesting my dinner.
For the first time since my Isle Royale trip began, the mosquitoes are atrocious. They especially seem virulent when the rain tappers off, apparently the recent moisture has rejuvenated them. They are literally out for blood now. And it is mine! Fortunately, they never attain the intensity of my trip to Oven Lake in the Adirondacks earlier in the summer.
Tarp at Todd Harbor campsite #1
Todd Harbor campsite #1
Many of the large-leaved raspberries, so prevalent on the island, surround the perimeter of my campsite. The large, red and succulent berries beg to be eaten, and I cannot refuse even though I just finished my dinner. I grab a wet berry off a nearby plant at the edge of my campsite and pop it in my mouth. Ever see the movie Big, where Tom Hanks spits out caviar at a party? I expect that is what my face looks like as I expel the nasty berry and try to rid my mouth of the acrid taste. Maybe they are not edible, after all.
The area around my campsite is alive with birds. A common raven calls off in the distance, its harsh croaking sounding as if it caught a cold from the wet weather. American robin, black-capped chickadee, golden-crowned kinglet, white-throated sparrow and red-breasted nuthatch calls frequently ring out over the light falling rain.
When I wander down by the shoreline, I observe several other bird species associated with open water. A spotted sandpiper dashes between the rocks, obviously in search of invertebrates for dinner. A belted kingfisher flies overheard, cackling constantly and loudly. Some mergansers swim along the opposite side of the harbor. I think they were red-breasted mergansers, but the distance and encroaching dusk make it difficult to be sure.
Todd Harbor
Todd Harbor shoreline
Tim, the male half of the couple at the other campsite when I arrived, stops in and asks if he can take a look at the campsite. Luckily, he arrives after my less than dignified incident with the raspberry. While chatting, I remember him from back at McCargoe Cove the night before, looking for something to relieve sunburn on his foot.
After checking out my campsite, Tim heads off along the trail between my campsite and the shoreline. Upon his return some time later, he yells over to tell me that the trail leads to an old mine shaft and a nice cliff overlooking the harbor. Interesting, and after a quick glance at my map
After finishing up with my cleaning and getting my campsite ready for the night, I head off down to the trail leading to the Haytown Mine. The trail stays in the surrounding wet coniferous forest as it winds its way toward the mine to the southwest. Finally, the trail leads to a split-rail fence surrounding an old mine pit. The pit is not very impressive, as vegetation from numerous shrubs obscures the opening.
Haytown Mine Trail
Located on the far side of the mine, the trail appears to continue, although it remains more obscure and grown over than before. Following the trail, I continue downhill as it winds through overgrown vegetation, wetting my pants as I push through.
The sound of running water rises above the constant sound of the rain drops dripping from the canopy as I proceed along the trail. Finally, the trail leads to a small, attractive waterfall, the water flowing over dark rock before winding through the forest on its way to Lake Superior.
The trail continues along the stream but appears even fainter than before, so I decide to head back before the darkening sky opens up with a deluge.
Back at the mine site, I follow another trail down to a bluff rising above Todd Harbor. The steep climb down is well worth the steep descent along a rocky and eroding herd path. The views are quite impressive; although I cannot stop thinking that it would be even more outstanding under a clear sky with a setting sun. Pickett Bay, Florence Bay and Todd Harbor are visible to varying degrees, with many different islands visible below the dark and threatening clouds.
Haytown Mine
Waterfall near Haytown Mine
Instead of returning to my campsite, I head down to the shoreline as I originally intended before the Haytown Mine trail distracted me. The temptation to skip stones overwhelms me, and I begin gathering adequately flat stones. What about the outdoors inspires me to engage in pursuits typically reserved for young boys, I do not know. Perhaps it is the loss of electricity, television or the Internet.
After enjoying the sport of stone skipping, I skip myself on over to check out the dock on the opposite shore. The rocky shoreline appears drier than using the trail, although it does require leaping over a small stream. Luckily, I do not slip on the slick rocks while making the jump and I arrive at the dock without getting any wetter than is absolutely necessary.
The dock is a large one given the smaller size of the Todd Harbor campground. Many small fish dart in the water around the dock, perhaps in search of a handout. Unfortunately, I have nothing to give them although I attempt to throw them an occasional swatted mosquito. On a couple occasions, when the mosquito struggles on the lake’s surface, the fish come to the surface and gobble them up. Not as effective as DEET, but a lot more fun.
View from bluff near Haytown Mine
Lake Superior at bottom of bluff near Haytown Mine
Small island off Haytown Mine bluff
Small island off Haytown Mine bluff
Leaving the dock, I head uphill along the trail toward the group campsites. From my readings (primarily from Isle Royale National Park: Foot Trails & Water Routes by Jim DuFresne
The trail proceeds uphill and to the west until reaching the first of the group camping sites. This site is indeed large, with at least half a dozen large, flat areas suitable for tents. The whole campsite is nestled under a mature coniferous forest, providing much more shelter than the individual sites across the way. It is easy to imagine these sites overrun with groups, like the Boy Scouts, during the height of the busy season on Isle Royale. I am glad I came later in the season, and missed the crowds.
The forest ends on a low cliff overlooking some outstanding views west. At least, I imagine them to be outstanding when the sky is not as dark as it is now. As I move along the edge of the forest toward the north, there are additional views out into Lake Superior. Wilson and Taylor Islands are prominently visible, much like they were at the bluff near Haytown Mine.
View near Todd Harbor group campsites
View near Todd Harbor group campsite
After admiring the view for a while, I circle back toward the group campsite where I started. When heading back toward the dock, I meet two older gentlemen, whom I recognize from Daisy Farm a couple days before. We chat about the island, trail and other typically backpacking issues before they head off to investigate the group campsite I just left behind.
When a side trail branches off toward the toilet, I take it since it continues past toward another group campsite. As I pass the toilet, the stench gives me an incentive to quicken my pace; obviously a group used one of these sites recently. I am thankful I am spending my evening on the other side of the bay tonight.
The second site is smaller, and more exposed to the elements, just like the majority of the individual sites. A snowshoe hare sits in the middle of the campsite, feasting on the exotic ground vegetation, apparently left behind by careless backpackers. In two casual leaps, the hare vanishes into the surrounding vegetation, and I head back down to the dock on my way back to my campsite for the night.
Before heading back to my campsite, I follow another subtle trail that leaves the shoreline near the dock and heads for a large log at the forest/wetland interface. The numerous pieces of soiled toilet paper surrounding the log and the buzzing flies should have warned me of what to expect. Apparently, some lazy bastards who cannot even make the short uphill trek to the toilet are defecating behind the large log. They must believe one large log deserves another. Disgusted, I swiftly move away back toward my campsite, this time trying the official trail instead of hugging the rocky shoreline.
Todd Harbor shoreline
The trail through dense herbaceous vegetation is slippery planking. The long stemmed plants attempt to thoroughly drench my already damp pants, but I do my best to hold them at bay. Baby steps are appropriate here, and thus it takes my much longer to return to the other side than when I came over along the rocky shoreline.
Before heading off to my tarp for the night, I return to the shoreline near my campsite. A family that arrived earlier and took an adjacent campsite to mine were investigating the dock, much like I did earlier. Their voices carry over the water, as the voices of younger children often do.
After skipping a few more inky-black rocks, I return to my campsite, shake the rain off my tarp and crawl underneath to spend my third Isle Royale night, warm and dry in my single pound Highlite sleeping bag. Another awesome, yet wet, day on the Minong Ridge Trail on Isle Royale completed with another one on the way tomorrow.
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