View from South Lake Desor campsite

Sleeping in the outdoors can often be a challenge. Strange sounds, things unknown racing/jumping/slithering near your shelter and roots or rocks jutting into the small of your back are just a few things that can prevent a good night’s sleep.

None of these issues contributes to my restless early morning at South Lake Desor Campground on Isle Royale, not even the constant chirping of crickets or the yodel of loons. Instead, it is just an ordinary headache. A piercing and throbbing headache, apparently an extension of the pain from the previous day, except magnified tenfold.

The throbbing becomes so intense at one point, I fish through my first aid kit for a couple ibuprofen. I fear the cause may be dehydration, so to wash the pills down, I mix a fresh batch of grape Gatorade and drink most of it throughout the night.

To add insult to injury, the right side of my right foot continuously sticks to my sleeping bag. Perhaps removing all the bandages from my blistering feet was not such a good idea after all. Although I cannot tell whether it is the oozing sores or the remnant of duct tape sticking to the inside of my sleeping bag, it drives me crazy enough that I completely bandage up my poor over-worked feet.

The extra liquids during the night force me to make several pee sojourns from the relative comfort of my tarp and sleeping bag. The moon is brilliant, illuminating the entire area as if it is day, making it a lot easier to go about my business. At one point early in the morning, the moon is no longer visible, only its reflected light illuminates the treetops way above me.

Section Stats:
Date: September 8, 2011
Length: 0.4 miles (0.4 total daily miles; 85.4 total trip miles)
Difficulty: Moderate (climbing)

Instead of journeying all the way down to the toilet every time, I decide to make good use of the Foster’s Lager can that got an entirely free ride from Siskwit Bay. Although I carried it all the way from Windigo, it contained some precious cargo to Siskwit Bay, where I finally emptied it. Since then the can has been nothing but dead weight and empty space in my backpack.

Although I could walk outside the campsite and pee in the herbaceous ground cover, the large amount of natural debris, dried toothpaste and probably old urine discourages me from doing so. Plus, I typically wear only my Crocs when I exit my tarp in a hurry, and their instability proves inadequate when stumbling around in a half-asleep stupor. Especially, with a full bladder.

The Foster’s Lager can makes an adequate pee bottle. The small opening helps prevent spilling, and the can holds up to 25 ounces and is wide enough to keep a good gripe on. Unfortunately, the small opening requires orienting the can properly to prevent a disaster. In addition, the can’s opening has sharp edges, which could easily cut my poor, well, you know.

When it gets full, I can dump the contents down the toilet, or at the very worst case, just dump it on the ground where the excessively dry conditions will do the rest.

While out peeing into my beer can, it strikes me that carrying a leak-proof pee bottle might make a welcome addition to my gear list for the next time I hike in a heavily trafficked area. A friend I hiked with several times uses requires his water bottle to perform double duty during the evening hours as his pee bottle. I am not sure I can handle that just yet, so I may consider carrying a separate lightweight bottle when packing for another long trip in an established trail system.

After a night’s sleep with all these interruptions, I finally emerge from my sleeping bag around seven-thirty in the morning. Given the late hour (no early morning start – again!), I immediately start packing up my stuff, followed by simultaneously filtering more water (I drank so much in the night) and making my breakfast. Thankfully, the night’s headache has mostly receded, although the drowsy feeling from the lack of sleep remains.

Early morning view of Lake Desor

The plentiful bird activity this morning distracts me from lack of a restful night’s slumber. Common loons continue to serenade me during my breakfast, as they did most of the night. A belted kingfisher dives repeatedly into the water near my campsite, apparently in search of its breakfast too. Many double-crested cormorants line up single-file along some rocks out in the lake. Herring gulls continually fly over my campsite while I eat, perhaps interested in the prospects of a free meal.

Despite being late summer, many birds continue to sing as if it is still breeding season. An ovenbird sings his “teacher-Teacher-TEACHER” song, even though the time for defending any breeding territory has long past. A persistent black-and-white warbler sings its squeaky wheelbarrow-like song with a gusto as if it had an itch it required scratching.

A downy woodpecker, blue jay, black-capped chickadee and an osprey are calling in the area too. Even a least flycatcher calls once, and then falls silent. A single white-throated sparrow hops around the perimeter of my campsite, perhaps waiting to pick up the crumbs left from my breakfast, before the resident deer mice have a chance.

Apparently, red squirrels do not only mate in the spring, as two continue to go at it on a try limb while I eat my breakfast. Fearing I may get a reputation as a voyeur, I look away, but I find myself turning back to them to see if they are still at it. Do not judge me! I have been without a television for over eleven days!!

View of Lake Desor from South Lake Desor Campground

After finishing my breakfast, I descend the short distance to Lake Desor to take a few photographs with my camera before departing. In between taking photographs, I scan the far shore with my binoculars, wondering if I can spot the North Lake Desor campsites, where I stayed just a short five days before. Finally, I spot an angler dressed in orange on the far shore, almost certainly indicating the location of the other campground.

It is going on eleven in the morning before I finally pack away the last odds-and-ends, and depart from South Lake Desor campground. By this time, the sun is high in the clear sky, and the temperatures are already soaring. The warmer temperatures instill some longing for the cooler days experienced while hiking to Feldtmann Lake and Siskiwit Bay. Apparently, the grass is always greener on Isle Royale too.

Ten minutes of climbing through a lovely paper birch forest, brings me back to the intersection with the Greenstone Ridge Trail. I waste little time at the intersection, hiking to the northeast toward Ishpeming Point, about half-way to Hatchet Lake, my eventual destination for the night.

At least I do not have to endure the nearly eight miles of hiking with a headache. And, I have a pee bottle if I need it. I just hope I emptied it before leaving the campground.

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