Ishpeming Point fire tower

Typically, fire towers provide spectacular views of the surrounding area, that being the reason for their construction, after all. Unfortunately, this is not the case with the Ishpeming Point tower despite being located at the second highest point on Isle Royale, at least according to the Isle Royale National Park: Foot Trails & Water Routes book by Jim DuFresne. Apparently, the forest has grown around the tower since its initial construction.

Who would have thought, right?

After regaining the elevation lost due to my descent to the South Lake Desor Campground the day before, I turn to the northeast prepared to hike along the Greenstone Ridge Trail toward Ishpeming Point. Despite the lack of a view, I plan to stop for lunch below the fire tower before continuing on to Hatchet Lake Campground for the night.

The trail ascends quickly soon after leaving intersection (point #80), skirting an open, rocky area and entering a forest dominated by large, mature sugar maples and mid-aged paper birch. The dense young sugar maples along the trail give me a claustrophobic feeling, accentuated by the quiet, which is only broken by the occasional chatter of a red squirrel in the distance.

Unfortunately, there is no level section to enjoy, as the trail descends to a wet area on some planking. Spruce and aspen grow along the trail here, replacing the attractive maple/birch forest from before. An occasional northern white cedar stands along the trail too. Scattered about are some other species rarely encountered on Isle Royale thus far, including willow, ash (probably green) and some red osier dogwood.

Section Stats:
Date: September 8, 2011
Length: 3.4 miles (3.8 total daily miles; 88.8 total trip miles)
Difficulty: Moderate

After a short jaunt, the trail begins to ascend again, leaving the wetland tree species behind, replacing them with mostly paper birch. Upslope and east through the trees, there appear to be some rocky ledges (point #82). The trail fails to reach these rock edges, instead continuing under the forest canopy.

A broad-winged hawk calls from out in the forest, quickly replaced with a blue jay calling in nearly the same direction. Since blue jays often imitate the calls of many hawks, the broad-winged being one of them, I suspect a clever imitator at work. There is no way to confirm this, but since the broad-winged sounds a little “off,” I strongly suspect it to be true.

The trail continues to ascend, finally reaching an open clearing full of tall, brown grass, asters and goldenrods, with plenty of scattered shrubs. The trail skirts the top of the ridge to the southwest, with exposed rocks to the northwest.

Glimpses of Lake Desor through the trees to the northwest inspire me to leave the trail and ascend to the exposed rocks to the northwest (point #83). I take care to avoid stepping on any fragile lichen, tip-toeing from one bare rock spot to another in an awkward dance across the rough rock. After observing crushed lichen in so many different places while on Isle Royale, I am bound and determined not to contribute to the carnage any more than absolutely necessary.

Lake Desor dominates the landscape to the northwest, giving me a new appreciation of its gigantic size. The lake demands some attention for antiquities sake, so I take a few photographs with my digital SLR, in an futile attempt to capture its grandeur.

As a follow-up, I scan the lake’s shoreline with my Leica binoculars. While sweeping the binoculars along the shore, I spot a bald eagle perching on the trip of a tree on a small island in the eastern corner of the lake. My vigil continues until a broad-winged hawk flies right overheard, distracting me from the eagle.

Lake Desor from Greenstone Ridge

Returning to my scan of the shoreline and islands of Lake Desor, another type of bald creature captures my attention. I cannot be sure given the great distance, and the limited power of my binoculars, but it sure looks like a nude sunbather on the exposed rocks at the North Lake Desor Campground. I wonder if this is the same individual that was fishing earlier in the morning. Nah, I doubt it. At least, I hope not.

First, I watched the red squirrels performing their amorous behavior this morning, and now the Tom-peepery of the sunbathing, if I do not watch out, I will end up with a reputation as a voyeur. Sheepishly, I return to the trail and back to my day’s main task.

The trail continues through the now familiar up-and-down pattern found along many of Isle Royale’s ridge trails. Views are absent along this stretch, as the trail weaves through dense forest, dominated by mature paper birch and young sugar maple on the high points (point #84), and paper birch, quaking aspen and spruce in the lower points.

I am a little taken aback when I see two hikers taking a break along the trail. The two are rather an odd couple, one appearing younger and possibly Hispanic, while the other is much older. They remind me of the eponymous characters from the old Chico and the Man television show, and I refer to them as such in the inner-commentary within my head for the rest of the day. Both of them appear very hot and tired.

Paper birch forest along Greenstone Ridge Trail

Stopping and chatting is not an option, being that it is my first encounter with fellow hikers for the day. They are even more out of their element than I am, given they are from Florida. They plan to hike from Rock Harbor to Windigo, via the Greenstone Ridge and Feldtmann Lake Trails.

I notify them of the Windigo facilities closing down for the season on Sunday, including the showers. This certainly does not go down very well, especially given their current state. After dropping that bombshell, I bid them farewell, their faces more drawn, and anxious than when I encountered them.

A short distance down the trail, more planking appears as the trail nears a small pond. A moose track in the softer ground near the planking excites me enough that I slow down and creep toward the pond, renewing my hope of seeing another moose before exiting the island.

The trail fails to draw close enough for my liking (point #85), so I bushwhack the short distance to the edge of the pond. It is an old beaver pond, with a nice breached dam at one end, now entirely vegetated. Unfortunately, the pond appears completely abandoned, including the moose that left the track from before.

After returning to the trail, I only hike a short distance, looping around the pond, and returning to its shoreline adjacent to where I just bushwhacked. Supposedly, patience is a virtue, and apparently, I could do with being a little more virtuous.

Old beaver pond

Two male hikers stand on the trail, observing the pond, obviously taking a break and searching for moose. One guy is a little chubby, with a mustache and receding hair, appearing like John Ashton, circa Beverly Hills Cop. The other one has a scruffy look, complete with a felt hat and multiple earrings in each ear, resembling one the hippie-types I am all too familiar with from attending SUNY-ESF.

As we chat about our Isle Royale experiences, the chubbier one tells me about the bull moose he encountered laying in the middle of the Greenstone Ridge Trail. It refused to move and they had to leave the trail and bushwhack around it before continuing. Hopefully, I will be so lucky on the rest of my journey along the Greenstone Ridge before leaving the island.

They stayed at Hatchet Lake last night, and are heading toward Windigo as their final destination. Before leaving, they inform me group one campsite is the best site at Hatchet Lake, implying I should occupy it when I get there, if possible. Focusing on my immediate needs, they inform me that the Ishpeming Point tower is only about thirty minutes ahead. Thank God, lunch is not far off then.

Old beaver pond

The trail begins climbing soon after leaving the pond, and then levels out again. Spruce forests surrounds the height of land here (point # 86), but the forest transitions back to paper birch down the trail a short ways. The frequency and rapidity of the changing Isle Royale forests remind me of the old saying in central New York about the weather “if you don’t like the weather, just a wait a few minutes.” On Isle Royale, the saying should be “if you don’t like this forest, just wait a few feet.”

After descending for a short distance, a steady climb begins. At a cut spruce log, the majority of the tree still hung up in the canopy, I watch a female hairy woodpecker calling out repeatedly. Directly below her, in the shrubbery, is a white-throated sparrow. An ovenbird, black-capped chickadee and red-eyed vireo are calling nearby. The lively bird activity continues to surprise me, given the late summer and the warm conditions this late in the day.

It is nearly two in the afternoon when I climb to the intersection beneath the Ishpeming Point tower (point #87), the second highest point on the island. Unfortunately, the second highest point on the island appears almost as scenic as the highest point back at the fully forested Mount Desor from the day before.

This fire tower’s lack of stature, the cab being fully contained with the surrounding forest canopy, reflects a time long past, when the forest was obviously absent. The windows appear to look out into tree canopy, while a tall radio tower rises from the middle of the cab, a phallic symbol standing erect with all sorts of scientific gizmos attached to its tip.

Long Island from Ishpeming Trail

A half-flight of stairs lead to the locked entrance in the floor of the cab, frustrating my curiosity about its interior. Instead, I must travel down the Ishpeming Trail a short way to capture a restricted view of Long Island far off shore to the east. This trail continues another seven miles, before terminating at Malone Bay, one of the few places on Isle Royale I will not be visiting on this trip.

My growling stomach and sore feet demand an extended lunch break, allowing me to shed my hiking boots and socks to let my poor feet dry out from the morning’s hike. Underneath the tower, I hang up my tarp to allow it to blow in the slight breeze, giving it a chance to dry off the morning dew while I devour my lunch.

Sitting on the grass nearby, in the shade of the fire tower, I sit and enjoy my well-earned lunch, contemplating how nature reclaims its own despite the intentions of man. Much like it has reclaimed what I imagine was once an outstanding view from Ishpeming Point.

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