Sunset on South Lake Desor

Often the urgency of taking a crap compels one forward along the trail. Although I am quite capable of digging myself a hole somewhere off trail, if a toilet is available within a mile or so, I shall do my best to hold it and put off the sweet relief until the comfort of a seat is available.

With the departure of my hiking companion down the Greenstone Ridge Trail toward Hatchet Lake, I race down the spur trail to the South Lake Desor Campground with the urgency of a substantial crap right behind me. The spur trail meanders through a paper birch forest, as it descends to the campground near the lake’s shore. The trail feels much longer than the three-tenths of a mile as indicated on my map, but this may be due to the urgency in my bowels.

Finally, I reach the campground map sign at an intersection up a steep slope, and a short distance from the lake’s shore. About half of the individual sites are located on the left, with the other half on the right; a long distance separates the individual sites for the group ones, but those larger sites are off to the right as well. My urgency to use the toilet compels me to take the left trail, the shortest distance to the nearest toilet, leaving the selection of a campsite until after obtaining the well-earned relief from nature’s call.

After finishing my overdue business, I check out each of the first four campsites. They are well spaced, proving adequate privacy, although currently all of them are empty. I quickly decide on taking site #1, since it is relatively close to the water, although the access is down a very steep and rocky embankment. I never even bother to check out the last three individual sites or the group ones on the other side of the intersection.

Section Stats:
Date: September 7, 2011
Length: 1.0 miles (10.7 total daily miles; 85.0 total trip miles)
Difficulty: Easy

My chosen campsite is extremely dry, the dirt flies in the air with every footfall as I attempt to put up my tarp and make the site home for the night. By the time my campsite is fully assembled, dirt covers everything, including the tarp, my backpack, the water bottles and, it would seem, even my teeth and tongue.

Daniel was not lying about the algae in the water. Little round pieces of algae float within the entire water table, and suspended throughout the entire 3L Platypus reservoir no matter how carefully I scoop the water out of the lake. Even after leaving the water to sit while setting up camp, no settling appears to occur.

As a way of preventing all the algae from getting into my filter, and clogging it, I thread a handkerchief within the cap with the hose attached, thus filtering out the large algae particles before the water reaches, and clogs, my precious Sawyer inline water filter. It works like a charm; the cloth becomes plastered with a large amount of algae afterwards, although it does slow down the flow rate substantially.

While waiting for the water to filter, I set up my clothesline and dry out my equipment as much as possible. The dry conditions, clear sky and steady breeze prove to be ideal, as the damp equipment dries out quickly, even though the sun is setting into the west.

With most of the campsite chores complete, and being too early to start dinner, I proceed toward the other campsites to see if I have any neighbors. The three individual sites on the other side of the intersection are small, and on the opposite side of the trail from the lake. All of the campsites remain unoccupied. My campsite is definitely the nicest of the lot of these individual sites.

Since there is still time to kill before dinner, I head over to the group sites to check them out too. The trail to the group sites is very long; placing the group sites a good distance away from the individual ones. During the busy season, this is probably a blessing to any of the individual hikers seeking peace and quiet. When the trail goes through a wet area on planking, I start to wonder whether the whole notion of group sites is just a nasty joke at this campground.

South Lake Desor campsite #1

Finally, after hiking for a while, I arrive at the small side trail to the first group site. This group campsite is in a similar habitat as the individual sites, with many paper birch snags interspersed with their live counterparts. Many northern white cedars grow scattered through the birches, as well as a dense layer of young saplings. The number of snags is less than that around the individual sites, while the sapling density is much greater.

When I walk up the short trail to the first group campsite, I notice a yellow dome tent above the saplings, followed by a shirtless man milling about. Not wanting to intrude on their wilderness experience (or anything else), I withdraw and head down another side trail toward the lake’s shoreline instead.

The short trail leads to a small, sandy beach. The sand is the usual beige color, unlike the redder ones at Feldtmann Lake and Siskwit Bay from the previous two days. The water appears warmer here due to the gradual depth, and the amount of algae is much less. Now, I can understand why someone would move from the individual sites to this one, even though it is much farther to travel.

South Lake Desor campsite #1

After leaving the beach, I check out the other two group sites. Both exist within similar habitat to the first one, and both are empty. It appears my only neighbors, are those in the first group site. At least, so far, as it is still early enough that others might be coming in yet.

Given the people at the first group site are my only neighbors, I decide to intrude on their wilderness experience before returning to my campsite for the night. With nothing more than a yelled hello, the shirtless man welcomes me into their campsite, with another voice coming from within the tent.

The shirtless man is lean and fit, appearing like a young Harry Dean Stanton, puffing on a cigar the entire time. The other guy emerges from the yellow tent, where he was obviously resting. He is a little more clean cut, tall, and with a little bit of the inevitable mid-life pudginess showing.

It turns out these two guys are from the Detroit suburbs. They flew into Rock Harbor via floatplane from Houghton, took a water taxi to the start of the Greenstone Ridge Trail near Lookout Louise, and have been hiking ever since. They spent evenings at Lane Cove, West Chickenbone and Hatchet Lake, before staying here for two nights. Originally, they planned to continue to Island Mine today, but decided to stay another night here and hike out to Windigo tomorrow.

Rock near shore of Lake Desor

They were overjoyed to hear they made the right decision to stay here another night rather than stay at the viewless Island Mine Campground. Unfortunately, I also gave them some very bad news when I inform them there is no restaurant at Windigo. This starts a lengthy argument about steaks and who is to blame for the lack of a restaurant at their final destination. They argue often, reminding me of my friend Dave and me when we go backpacking together.

Their equipment is mostly old school; no lightweight gear is lacking. A homemade wood burning camping stove, a large inline filter (seemingly overkill for two people), a heavy mess kit and even a fillet cooker lay scattered about the campsite. Fishing poles and other angling equipment is scattered about the campsite too, although they admit not catching even a single fish yet.

They invite me over to their campsite, but with my entire camp setup already, I decline the offer although I think it might be fun to do so. Finally, as the time approaches seven in the evening, I bid them farewell and retreat to my campsite to make some long overdue and well-earned dinner.

Sunset at Lake Desor

While making dinner, the crickets continue to chirp, as they did most of the day. Typically, the crickets’ chirping is a welcome addition to my evening rituals, but with my headache continuing from early in the day, I find it increasingly annoying. Since, the headache may be due to improper hydration, I drink as much water as possible before, during and after dinner.

I spend the rest of the evening sitting at the water’s edge enjoying the lake after finishing my dinner. The sound of the water hitting the rocks along the shore is soothing and tranquil, allowing me to relax before heading off to sleep for the night.

Much like my evening at North Lake Desor campsite five days ago, double-crested cormorants, herring gulls, common loons and a merganser prove more entertaining than most television shows. At one point a merganser flies over the surface of the water, skimming some water out with its beak, apparently in an effort to get a drink.

Some darker clouds float over during my time at the lake’s edge, but they do not amount to anything significant, and soon blow over. The setting sun provides some spectacular displays of orange and reds behind the western shores trees; appearing as if the flames of a conflagration were consuming the forest. Despite the setting sun, the temperatures stay warm and comfortable.

Sunset on Lake Desor

Before heading to sleep, I strip off all my old foot bandages to give the sores that were once blisters an opportunity to breathe. Although the sores do not look very attractive, there do not appear to be any signs of infection, which is a good thing.

With my head throbbing I crawl into my sleeping bag and try to grab some extra sack time in a vain attempt to get over the pain. Only the crickets and an occasional yodel of a loon are the only sounds in the area, as I spend my first night in a nearly vacant campground since arriving at Isle Royale.

Tomorrow it is back to the Greenstone Ridge, and my continuing journey toward Rock Harbor as my Isle Royale experience draws to its final third.

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