Siskiwit Bay

My lunch at the Feldtmann Tower is short, but sweet.

The late start due to my extensive visit of Rainbow Cove, and its associated moose encounters, made certain of that. Since it is mid-afternoon already, and there are more than five miles to Siskiwit Bay, I cannot afford to take my time. The constant chirps of crickets suggest the time is later than it is, accentuating my urgency to return to the trail.

With my lunch over, I immediately return to the trail, since the time for lollygagging is over. The trail leaves the fire tower and winds through the surrounding grassy area and its scattered shrubbery. After descending through the open area, the trail enters a yellow and paper birch forest before ascending again back into another open, grassy area.

Soon I am at the old fire tower site. Four cement corner pillars are still present, with scattered patches of orange lichen growing on them. A short distance away is the remains of an old cabin, a shrub growing in its center. Apparently, it has been a very long time since the Feldtmann Tower was located at this site.

Date: September 6, 2011
Length: 5.6 miles (13.1 total daily miles; 74.3 total trip miles)
Difficulty: Moderate

The trail begins to descend more steeply after leaving the old fire tower site. Soon the trail reenters a birch forest, except this time there is more white spruce and aspen mixed in. Eventually, the forest becomes almost exclusively paper birch, the white bark visible for as far as the eye can see down the trail. Although not very diverse, this type of forest remains one of my favorites, and quite common on Isle Royale.

A deer mouse at the trail’s edge is a unique sight in the middle of a sunny afternoon. It is even more unusual when the mouse fails to run away in horror at the sight of you. The mouse appears somewhat stunned, but after giving it a nudge with my hiking boot it takes off into the surrounding vegetation. The mouse’s sudden urge to run off makes it extremely difficult for me to get a photograph with my camera, especially with all the young seedlings growing in the area.

The trail continues to descend mostly through an attractive paper birch forest, the white bark contrasting with the surrounding green foliage. Occasionally, the forest changes to spruce/balsam fir/northern white cedar as the trail goes through what was once a wetter area. The corduroy is testimony to the usually wetter conditions, although the logs are now firmly stuck within dried ground.

The trail finally levels off, and then turns suddenly to the northeast. According to the DuFresne’s book, this is an old logging road, based upon an old Lake Superior shoreline. The area south of here was once part of a larger Lake Superior, with the Feldtmann and Houghton Ridges rising above as islands. The straight nature of the trail, and the surrounding young trees and shrubbery reveal the recent past of this trail section to any trained observer.

The trail conditions remain monotonous, with some trees to the north and dense shrubbery to the south. The area around the trail remains open enough that the hot sun frequently beats down on me, while I navigate through an often overgrown trail. It sure would be nice to have a beer now. Unfortunately, my beer has to wait until I arrive at Siskiwit Bay, thus condemning me to carry the extra 25 ounces a few more miles.

This portion of the trail allows for a fast and steady pace, just what the doctor ordered given the swiftness of the afternoon sun sinking towards the horizon. After an hour of dashing through the monotonously shrubby area, the trail finally enters a paper birch forest in a state of decay. The many dead trees mingle with the living, giving the forest a semi-open, and somewhat spooky character.

Old Feldtmann Tower site

Cabin at old tower site

Lake Halloran must be a half mile due south by now. Originally, I played with the idea of bushwhacking there. Unfortunately, my sore feet, the hot afternoon sun, and the late hour all demand I keep moving toward Siskiwit Bay Campground, which is less than a mile east. After a few moments of hemming and hawing, I push forward on the trail to the campground, so I can prepare dinner before it gets too dark. Or, I am completely dehydrated. Lake Halloran has to wait until the next trip, I guess.

Spruce and balsam fir soon join the birches along the trail, and the denser canopy provides me with a break from the late day sun. This does not last long though, as the trail enters a large clearing. According to DuFresne’s book, this area once housed the camp used by those building the road, and then afterwards by the Civil Conservation Corps (CCC), but has been vacant for many decades.

Long, monotonous trail

The clearing continues the short distance to the intersection with the Island Mine Trail, a welcome site indeed. A short distance ahead is Siskiwit Bay Campground, my destination for the evening. And not a moment too soon, my feet are killing me, and the water I rationed for the last hour or so is just about finished.

The trail to the campground continues through a clearing of tall, brown grass as it parallels the Siskiwit Bay shoreline. A thin line of trees separates the trail from the bay, formed by Isle Royale proper, and the Houghton Ridge, a peninsula running parallel to the main island.

A gradual incline rises away from the shoreline, eventually transitioning into a semi-open coniferous forest of white spruce and balsam fir. The spur trail continues through the grassy clearing, for a short distance before branching out into a network of trails near the dock, each trail leading to a set of campsites.

I walk down to the dock, with the intention of sticking my warm beer into the cool Lake Superior water in preparation for the inevitable imbibing after fully hydrating myself. The dock it attached to a red, sandstone beach much like at Rainbow Cove, except the pebbles are smaller, brighter red and the size of the shoreline is much less extensive.

The dock is made of cement, and slightly bowed in several places, giving it an undulating appearance. The dock is one of the longest I have seen since arriving on Isle Royale, and is probably popular with anglers for this reason. Two picnic tables lay along the dock, one near the end, while the other is about half way down the length of the dock.

Paper birch forest

Clearing at the end of the trail

From the shoreline, parallel to the dock is a narrow line of boulders, perhaps built as a wave break for the dock. In fact, it appears as if the raised beach area is due to the presence of a rock wave break.

Numerous people are mingling about on and around the dock. Several middle-aged men are sitting at the farthest picnic table, while the group of younger guys from Feldtmann Lake are scattered about the dock and the rock wave break, giving fishing a try. Since I see no fish, I can only assume the fishing has not been productive.

I walk down to the rock wave break and stick the Foster’s Lager can in the water, wedging it between two rocks. The water is cool, but unfortunately, not cold. My hope is the beer will be chilled by the time I return from finding a camping site and setting up my tarp. Given the current temperature, I think I am going to be disappointed.

A quick check of the two shelters verifies their occupation. The individual sites are mostly small and in the open, surrounded by tall grass and other herbaceous vegetation. I head up to the group sites, which are back into the forest, far from shore. The first group site is adequate; it is located near the edge of the forest, with several large, flat areas suitable for pitching my tarp.

Beach at Siskiwit Bay

After the tarp is set up, complete with my sleeping bag, Therm-a-rest Prolite and closed-foam pad, I load up all my food and water filtering equipment and head back down to the dock to filter water and make dinner.

By the time I arrive at the dock, both picnic tables are taken, so I set up my stove on the edge of the dock, near a shrub. I place my blue closed foam mattress pad down on the hard surface for me to sit on to void all the bird feces scattered about. After getting some water filtering, I start going through my food bag to find something to make for dinner.

At one picnic table is the father and son from back at Feldtmann Lake, while a different group of middle-aged men sit around the other table. I hear someone mention the Adirondacks, which piques my interest. When my filtering is complete, I suck down a significant amount of the cool water before lighting up my stove and starting my dinner.

While making dinner, I run over and retrieve my beer, not being able to endure the temptation any longer. With the crack of the opening beer, the conversation on the dock instantly ceases, and I become the center of interest. One of the middle-aged guys at the far picnic table remarks on how I could probably get really good money for the beer. With a chuckle, I take my first sip. After carrying this all the way from Windigo, there is not enough money on this island, let alone at this single campground.

Fishing at end of wave break

While drinking my beer, I busy myself with cooking my dinner on my homemade alcohol stove. Due to my dehydrated state, the buzz from the beer hits me almost instantly, making preparing dinner more of a challenge than usual. Luckily, I avoid burning myself or any of my equipment.

The whole time I am cooking dinner, I keep hearing something rustling around in the shrub next to the dock. No matter how many times I check around the bush, I turn up nothing. It must be another red squirrel bent on revenge for the incident with the rock back at McCargoe Cove. Those squirrels sure do have long memories for such little brains. Or maybe the beer is making me hallucinate.

By the time my dinner is ready to be eaten, the picnic table closest to me is unoccupied, so I upgrade from the hard dock to the relative comfort of the picnic table. I finish my dinner and beer watching the anglers alternate between fishing on the dock and the rock wave break into the early evening hours. That, and running back and forth to a clump of bushes to take a pee.

Later in the evening, the younger guys start a fire in the fire ring. I join them until it is pitch black, talking about past backpacking adventures. By the end of the evening, they invite me to stay at their shelter. I decline the invitation since my tarp is already set up back at the group site. We end the evening by putting out the fire the old-fashioned way, by peeing on it.

View from dock toward Houghton Ridge

I head up back to my group camping site in the pitch dark using my e-LITE headlamp to find my way along the trail. As I follow the trail through the tall grass, I see another light appearing from the direction of the intersection between the Feldtmann Ridge and Island Mine Trails. From the bobbing along action of the light as it grows slowly closer, it is obvious someone is hiking in by headlamp. Tired from the day’s effort, I continue my retreat back to my campsite for the night before the light reaches me.

With another long and arduous hike behind me, the next few easier days ahead will give me some time for my poor blistered feet to heal. At least, so I can dream this evening. It is back to the Greenstone Ridge for the final phase of my Isle Royale trip tomorrow, hopefully the rest of the way will be easier on my feet. Although, I am not about to bet on it.

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