Little Todd shoreline

Little Todd Campground is nearly right on the Lake Superior shoreline. The strong breeze off the water is a welcome relief from the heat, blowing off some of the stink accumulated on my hike from Todd Harbor. Drying off my equipment, cleaning my clothes and myself, and taking photographs of the shoreline are all on the agenda before the sun starts setting.

But first, before performing any chore, a campsite has to be chosen. So, I make the rounds to each of the unclaimed camp sites, looking for the one best suited to my individual tastes for the night. With half of them already occupied, my choices are already limited.

Section Stats:
Date: September 1, 2011
Length: 0.0 miles (6.4 total daily miles; 31.1 total trip miles)
Difficulty: Very easy

Campsite number one is straight ahead and nearly at Lake Superior’s shoreline. It is located in the middle of a sparse paper birch stand, surrounded by tall grassy herbaceous vegetation. A short trail leads down to the rocky shoreline. It is one of the most spacious campsites, with its own fire ring surrounded by log benches on every side. The open nature of the surrounding paper birches is an ideal place for a clothes line, now that the sun is out and the wind is blowing steadily off the lake. Several dead birch snags lean into the campsite; widow makers just waiting to happen.

Returning to the intersection at the heart of the campsite, and coincidentally where the toilet is located, I take the other trail leading to the rest of the campsites. Number two is taken by the two older gentlemen, while three is open and under some large spruces, thus providing adequate shelter if it should rain (as is forecast).

Little Todd Campground Map

I never arrive at number four campsite, as a flash of a bare bottom down on the shore of the lake sends me back toward the campsite trail nexus. Obviously, the campsite must be taken by Tim and his girlfriend, Shelly. Whose bare bottom I got a glimpse of is anyone’s quess. At least, that is my story and I am sticking to it.

After hemming and hawing over which of the two open campsites to take (and thus stick the family behind me with the other), I finally chose number one. Although it is the larger one (which I do not really need), the dangerous condition of the widow makers makes it more suitable to a single individual as opposed to a group. My decision is not completely altruistic though, my desires to take photographs of the shoreline and dry my stuff on a clothes line are contributing deciding factors.

Not wanting to waste the sunshine and strong breeze, I immediately set up my rope (usually functioning as a food line anywhere but on Isle Royale) in the paper birches. I dig through my backpack pulling out anything and everything even remotely wet, resulting in piles of equipment scattered around me. It is almost as if a gear bomb when off in my backpack.

Clothes line at Little Todd

The tarp, the mosquito netting, all plastic garbage bags, my rain gear, sleeping bag, Therm-a-rest Prolite mattress and my extra clothes all get their turn on the clothes line. In addition, I scatter everything else in my backpack onto the ground to dry.

This is my first campsites where the ground is not completely dirt. In fact, most of it except around the fire ring is a soft carpet of green, and strangely familiar, vegetation. It almost seems lawn-like due to the presence of many exotic species often found on poorly weeded lawns. Plantain, crab grass, and white clover are just a few of the species here. Obviously, careless hikers brought the seeds of these many exotic hitchhikers in their equipment or on their clothing, and the abundant sun did the rest.

After gathering some water and starting my inline filter, I pitch my tarp since it already dried on my clothesline. I place the tarp off to one corner on the pseudo-lawn, but unfortunately several of the lead ropes go off into the tall grassy vegetation. Despite the green vegetation, the ground is hard and dry, making it difficult to get the lightweight titanium stakes in the soil without bending them.

My tarp at Little Todd

While trying to force one of the stakes into the ground in the tall grass, I notice something white and clearly out of place. It turns out to be a deck of playing cards. They are intact, but the box and all the contents have sustained a great deal of water damage. Unfortunately, after I fling the entire deck to the ground near my equipment, the box splits apart and the cards scatter all over the ground. Fifty-two pickup, anyone?

Tim and his girlfriend, Shelly, stop by as they explore the different campsites. I decide not to mention the bare bottom from before, although it does take all my willpower to do so. Instead, I share the rainy weather report with them (much to their dismay I imagine), and show off my radio, recorder and some of my other assorted toys scattered about in my campsite.

A growling stomach notifies me that I skipped lunch today, so I stop to have a quick bite to eat before heading down to the shoreline. After quickly eating a sandwich, I start collecting my equipment to head down to Lake Superior to practice some photography. Armed with all my food (in my black bear bag, of course), my tripod and head, camera and binoculars, I somehow make it down to the rocky shoreline without dropping anything.

Fifty-two pick-up

The two older guys are down on the rocks along the shoreline engaging in a lively discussion. Beyond them, even farther down the shoreline, the family gathers water. A family filtering water together, stays together. Luckily, there is no sign of any nudity. Whew, I really did not want to get any in my scenic photographs.

The shoreline consists of a multitude of rounded and smooth rocks of various different colors. The variety of sizes and colors remind me of the tribbles on that classic episode of Star Trek. Some larger rocks lie half submerged in the water not too far from the main shoreline.

Little Todd lies in a shallow cove, with peninsulas jutting out into the lake on either side. The western peninsula is nearby, while the other is much farther off in the distance. A subtle Canadian shoreline can be seen in the distance, sandwiched between the light blue of the sky and the deep blue of Lake Superior. Overall, I find it a much more tranquil and attractive setting than that at Todd Harbor the night before. The dreary conditions of the previous night may have played a role in forming my opinion though.

Lake Superior shoreline at Little Todd

After finishing with the photographs, I decide to cool off and wash the trail off me in Lake Superior. A 30 minute process of slowly coaxing myself into the intensely frigid water ensues. I wade up to my knees in the frigid water, walking about with my Crocs on so as not to stub my toes on the many, rounded rocks beneath the water. After acclimating somewhat, I sit on a dry rock soaking my poor, blistered feet. The multiple days of trail hiking are now starting to show on my gnarly feet. Finally, I work myself up to sitting on another rock that becomes covered with the cool water infrequently whenever a wave comes in.

Two different attempts are made to sit directly into the water, followed quickly by an abort. Finally, taking a very deep breath, I submerge all but my head. The water is so cold; I cannot keep my body submerged for long. Instead of directly wetting my head in the cold water, I use my waterproof hat as a bucket, filling it with water and then placing it firmly on my head, letting the water spill over and run down my face.

Unfortunately, all this farting around in the water wastes much of the best sunshine, and my wet clothes (that is right, I went in with my hiking clothes on since they needed a good wash) do not have ample time to dry. Tomorrow morning is going to be highly uncomfortable in these damp clothing!

Rocks at Little Todd

Drying off and changing into my single set of extra clothes, I set about starting my dinner despite only eating lunch several hours before. A single red squirrel makes an appearance, but I scare it off with a little shooing and some hand waving (I refrain from throwing anything at the little pest this time). It never revisits again; either it heard about my spot-on aim at McCargoe Cove or the surrounding, open paper birch forest is not to its liking.

In the middle of dinner, two other visitors arrive at my campsite. No stone throwing or shooing at these visitors though, as doing so to children is typically frowned upon, even in the backcountry. The two children from the family come bearing an invitation to share their fire later in the evening. I graciously accept and tell them I will come over after finishing dinner and cleaning up. Hopefully, this is not am attempt to extract revenge for choosing the better campsite.

My chores occupy my attention until around 7:30 PM. Not wanting to show up without something, I pick up a piece of cut wood left behind by a past camper and head over to the campsite underneath the spruce trees. The two older gentlemen (i.e. Jesse and Lee) are already there engaging in a lively discussion of the sights and sounds of Isle Royale. The discussion continues until around quarter after 8, when Jesse and Lee excuse themselves and head back to their campsite across the way.

Fire ring at Little Todd

I hold on until about 9 PM, all the hiking alone making me more talkative than usual. We discuss everything from Isle Royale adventures to all other types of outdoor experiences. The father confirms my suspicions about a windstorm event (during the past winter) and the dry summer (a wet spring followed by dry conditions since, much like the New York weather). While I am there a red squirrel tries multiple times to get into their packs and a snowshoe hare attempts to get into one of their two tents. Obviously, I am not the only ones the wildlife pick on.

Upon returning to my campsite, I burrow myself into my sleeping bag and settle in for what turns out to be a restless night. The constant crashing of the waves not only keeps me from reaching a deep sleep but lures me out to pee about every two hours or so. Luckily, my campsite is far enough away from the others that my constant urination does not disturb anyone else. At least, not as far as I knew.

My many pee trips allow me to observe the changing conditions during the night. At one point, the stars are slightly obstructed, apparently either by thin clouds or a fog moving in from the lake. Later in the evening a light rain falls, contributing to my restlessness. Flashes of lightening and distant thunder join the chorus of sound and contribute to my tossing and turning.

Lake Superior shoreline at Little Todd

Hopefully, this is not a sign of what is to come tomorrow. At least now I have a deck of cards to while away any possible rain delay.

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