Washington Harbor

Rest days are for rest. And, plenty of it. Unfortunately, they are for chores too. And I have plenty of those too on my only rest day at Washington Creek Campground.

The morning of the only rest day on my journey across the Isle Royale is bitterly cold. Or, at the very least, well below normal for the first week of September. The thin layer of fog emanating from Washington Creek as it flows into Lake Superior magnifies the sense of chill in the air.

I wake chilled and annoyed, despite pulling on most of my clothes during the night in a failed attempt to stay warm. It is mornings like these, that make me wish I carried my warmer summer sleeping bag.

I finally get out of my down sleeping bag hoping some physical activity does the job that all my clothes failed to do. Unfortunately, I only brought my summer hiking clothes. This clothing ensemble includes a Montbell Down jacket, lightweight polypropylene long johns, a thin insect-proof windbreaker, two hiking t-shirts, two hiking pants, a rain jacket, a Golite Tumalo Pertex rain pants, 2 pair of nylon liner socks, two pair of light Smartwool hiking socks, some fleece socks, a hat and Outdoor Research gloves. And, every single piece of clothing is on me. With all these layers, I can hardly move around to generate any body heat at all!

Section Stats:
Date: September 4, 2011
Length: 1.0 miles (1.0 total daily miles; 48.8 total trip miles)
Difficulty: Very Easy

Even a hot breakfast of oatmeal and tea fails to get my metabolism up and going. With the food and clothing failing to do the job, I give up and just start about my day of tasks, starting with picking up after my breakfast. When I retire into the shelter to secure my excess food, MSR kettle, Pepsi can food and other breakfast materials, a strange, offensive screech emanates from outside.

When I turn to look outside, there are two, large gray jays in the spruce tree right at the edge of my campsite. Before I can even move a muscle, one of them flies down on the picnic table. The corvid hops around, picking up small morsels left behind from my breakfast. I carefully reach for my camera, but before it is extricated from its case, the gray jay flies off.

Damn! My first chance for a beautiful wildlife moment blown due to my unpreparedness. Even if it were through the screen, it would have made a delightful picture. Luring them back proves unsuccessful, no matter how hard I try. And let me tell you, I try plenty hard.

With laundry being the main event on schedule for the day, I try to find some other activity to do while I wait for the rising sun to move into its prime drying period at midday. So, I start jotting down things to do for the day: repacking resupply box to send back, returning the way too small CompactFlash disk I bought earlier at the store, buying some small souvenirs and a lighter since the strike strip on my matchbox is falling apart, and, of course, laundry.

Tim and Shelly stop by my shelter for a talk, and take a picture of us all together. They are moving on tomorrow via the Greenstone Ridge Trail, so the chances of us meeting up again are low. They are planning to stay at Moskey Basin for a couple days, and advise me to spend a night there too, if I can. They say it is much nicer than Lane Cove, where I plan on staying the second to last night of my trip.

Their advice intrigues me, and as soon as they leave, I break out my map. The possibilities are limited though, but one option can work. Instead of heading to Lane Cove from West Chickenbone (East Chickenbone is already out of the question based on what I saw when I passed through that area on the way to McCargoe Cove), I can climb over the Greenstone and head for Lake Richie, and then beyond to Moskey Basin. My last full day can take me back to Daisy Farm, and then regain the Greenstone Ridge via Mount Ojibway, over to Mount Franklin and finally down to Rock Harbor, as if I was coming from Lane Cove as originally planned.

This would make the last full day on the island my longest day of the whole trip. Plus, it would include a quite a bit of climbing. Maybe it is the praise I heard about Moskey Basin, or just my idiotic sense of adventure, but I think I am going to do it! Or, at least try it. Then again, there are still six days for me to come to my senses.

With daylight burning, I head out to perform some of my many chores. On the agenda for this morning are returning the expensive and small CompactFlash drive for my camera, and laundry. Unfortunately, this requires me changing out of my stench-ridden hiking clothes.

The walk over to Windigo is uneventful. I stop in at the Ranger’s Station to do some more looking around. The majority of the family I met along the Minong (the father is absent) were there keeping the rangers’ hands full, while I spent time looking at all the exhibits and perusing the many books for sale.

Windigo Ranger Station sign

At one point, I over hear one of the rangers talking about his schooling at SUNY ESF. Although I resist butting in, it is no use, and finally I announce that I am from the Syracuse area too, and that I attended ESF as well. He immediately knows who I am, as my resupply box has given me a certain level of notoriety at the Windigo Ranger Station. We reminisce for a little while, before I let him return to his duties.

Before leaving the Ranger Station, I decide to pick up a few souvenirs. Looking around the Ranger Station it is difficult finding anything to buy that is light enough to, a) carry with me back to Rock Harbor, or b) mail back in my resupply box. Finally, I decide on two Isle Royale checklists (a lengthy bird one, and a rather short one for mammals), a detailed Isle Royale topographic map (can one have enough maps?) and two National Park pins (one with a wolf and another with a moose on it), which I plans to give to my nephew and niece.

After leaving the station building, I head up to the store to return the camera disk. The woman at the cashier register appears to be quite annoyed with my returns from the previous day. She becomes even more annoyed when I decide to buy a lighter on my credit card. As I depart, I make a mental note of not returning if I can help it, since it appears as if I have definitely overstayed my welcome here.

Finally, I made it over to the rest room building with the intention of doing my laundry. The token prices are completely ridiculous, so instead I decide to use the free vagabond method. I foresaw this happening, so I carried with me all the necessary materials to perform laundry in the backcountry; the presence of running water and an actual sink just makes it all that more easier.

Washington Creek

Unfortunately, only cold water is available in rest room, but that is all one can expect in the backcountry anyway. Placing one or two articles of clothing, laundry detergent and some water in a resealable plastic bag, sealing the bag and shaking like crazy is required for washing even the stinkiest hiking clothes, especially if made of artificial materials. Rinsing is the same process, just sans the detergent.

The detergent consists of some Planet Ultra Powdered Laundry Detergent, and a little shot of Sport Wash. The powder does most of the cleaning, and the Sport Wash helps remove the built-up body odor that has nearly fused permanently with the molecules of the fabric. If the smell is persistent, then more Sport Wash is necessary.

I hustle back to my shelter to place the wet laundry out on my multi-purpose clothesline. With the low temperatures, every minute on the line counts. Hopefully, the clothes will not be damp tomorrow morning when I head out for Feldtmann Lake. Especially, if the temperatures tomorrow morning are anything like today’s.

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