August, 2007 was an exhausting month after such a busy July. None-the-less, I was totally grateful for the work outdoors as a guide. I had herniated my L-5 disc in the early spring while guiding a dog team trip in northern Minnesota. After suffering through misdiagnoses and ineffective physical therapy followed by surgery and recuperation, I had jumped right into leading trips out of Munising and out to Isle Royale. I actually started doing trips at the end of June, with my son's help on heavy lifting.The first trip was to Pictured Rocks and there were many that followed. The previous 2 trips were an attempt by a large group to go around Grand Island and a 2 couple trip "on a budget" to Isle Royale. Both of these trips were disappointments for me, though not for the clients. The attempt to go around Grand Island was with a ski club out of Milwaukee. The members were all more into drinking and partying, many lacked experience at kayaking, and some were totally out of control as far as following a wilderness ethic. Three dysfunctional women would jump out of their kayaks when we would stop, sit down in the water and urinate while still in their wet suits. I thought it was different that they would have such an affinity for the water that they would sit down together for a time so often. Then on the last day one of the other participants told me what was up with those 3 women. I told Carl, the trip outfitter to be sure and wash those wet suits extra cycle.
We didn't go all around the island on that trip because of the group being large and not sticking together, and with the fog and windy weather that we had, I didn't feel comfortable leading them.
The other "cut-rate" trip with 2 middle aged couples from lower Michigan to Isle Royale was tough because they were all staying in the lodge and supplying the food. The major verbal topic was complaining about how the Rock Harbor Lodge and Restaurant was a rip-off. They were supposed to supply me with food and they were reluctant to do so, other than white bread and bologna sandwiches and cheap sugar cookies for lunch. The one time that they ate in the lodge with me they stiffed the waiter.
Right after doing the two disappointing trips, I had to rush back to Munising for a trip with the repeat customers from the year before, the Ripper group, named after Wendy Ripper, who did the coordinating with Carl, the Northern Waters owner and outfitter for the group of 5 women. I had met the ladies last year when they had switched over from then-defunct Great Northern Adventures out of Marquette, Michigan. One of the guides at GNA, Susan Bellamy had built up a great relationship with the Ripper party over a period of a few years. They had gone to Pictured Rocks but weather had limited their trips. They had gone to Grand Island into Trout Bay and Murray Bay with Susan.
The group members were Wendy, Jeannette, Jill, Julie, and Casey. All from the suburbs of Detroit, active in outdoor sports, all but Casey with kids and husbands. Jeannette was a fairly good paddler and could roll her kayak. She lived on a lake outside of Detroit and had a sport kayak that she would take out and practice with. She said that she always used ear and nose plugs as the water was warm and had a lot of bacteria in it.
All 5 ladies arrived at 9 AM in Jill's SUV. They were ready to go. Carl didn't have the food ready, actually didn't arrive until later. So we got their gear sorted out and did what we could and then got out on the water during the afternoon, heading out from Powell Point over to Grand Island and then going up the west side.
As the guide there is quite a bit of pressure on a trip such as this regarding making it a safe experience, comfort of participants on and off the water and arriving at campsites with enough time to be set up and fed before dark Getting a much later start than was optimal would make it hard to really have the surety that the aforementioned items would occur.
Casey, being new to kayaks was struggling to use her rudder and keep a straight line of travel. Her paddle stroke needed developed, and so I worked with her on paddling efficiently as we went along.
After 3 miles we stopped for a break on the lower west side of the island, but it was still too early to think about making camp. One place that we had in mind for spending the night was the Juniper Flats group site. There were a number of people who we saw there, so that wasn't looking like a possibility. Just past there is a beach and stairs that go up to the two-track road which leads to Hardwood Campground. No one was there but it is a long walk with gear to the campsite. Another not great possibility for us. Beyond the stairs is a little cove that has a waterfall that falls into the cove 10 feet or so out from the shore. Jill was the first to paddle under the drought diminished water. Then Casey tried but ended up beaching the bow of her boat on the shore. After a bit of a struggle with raising her rudder and pushing herself off she paddled under the falls. Then off we went, to parts unknown as far as camping. There was an eagle perched on a dead tree on a tall rock bluff. The rock is all tan and maroon tinted sandstone on the west side; mostly cliffs , which makes for awesome scenery but with few places to land and camp. There is a low arch before the a beach that I call the Northwest Beach. With the low water it was hardly possible to pass beneath it. Even the beach beyond it is low enough water that landing there on the mostly rock shelf means dragging the kayak in shallow water for a distance. We chose a back country campsite beyond with fair beach access. It was soon to be dark so that was the deciding factor in finding a campsite. Jill had a large tent that would fit all five and I busied myself with getting dinner of tacos while their tent went up. We were treated to a bit of Northern Lights after full dark, which capped our long day.
We didn't go all around the island on that trip because of the group being large and not sticking together, and with the fog and windy weather that we had, I didn't feel comfortable leading them.
The other "cut-rate" trip with 2 middle aged couples from lower Michigan to Isle Royale was tough because they were all staying in the lodge and supplying the food. The major verbal topic was complaining about how the Rock Harbor Lodge and Restaurant was a rip-off. They were supposed to supply me with food and they were reluctant to do so, other than white bread and bologna sandwiches and cheap sugar cookies for lunch. The one time that they ate in the lodge with me they stiffed the waiter.
Right after doing the two disappointing trips, I had to rush back to Munising for a trip with the repeat customers from the year before, the Ripper group, named after Wendy Ripper, who did the coordinating with Carl, the Northern Waters owner and outfitter for the group of 5 women. I had met the ladies last year when they had switched over from then-defunct Great Northern Adventures out of Marquette, Michigan. One of the guides at GNA, Susan Bellamy had built up a great relationship with the Ripper party over a period of a few years. They had gone to Pictured Rocks but weather had limited their trips. They had gone to Grand Island into Trout Bay and Murray Bay with Susan.
The group members were Wendy, Jeannette, Jill, Julie, and Casey. All from the suburbs of Detroit, active in outdoor sports, all but Casey with kids and husbands. Jeannette was a fairly good paddler and could roll her kayak. She lived on a lake outside of Detroit and had a sport kayak that she would take out and practice with. She said that she always used ear and nose plugs as the water was warm and had a lot of bacteria in it.
All 5 ladies arrived at 9 AM in Jill's SUV. They were ready to go. Carl didn't have the food ready, actually didn't arrive until later. So we got their gear sorted out and did what we could and then got out on the water during the afternoon, heading out from Powell Point over to Grand Island and then going up the west side.
As the guide there is quite a bit of pressure on a trip such as this regarding making it a safe experience, comfort of participants on and off the water and arriving at campsites with enough time to be set up and fed before dark Getting a much later start than was optimal would make it hard to really have the surety that the aforementioned items would occur.
Casey, being new to kayaks was struggling to use her rudder and keep a straight line of travel. Her paddle stroke needed developed, and so I worked with her on paddling efficiently as we went along.
After 3 miles we stopped for a break on the lower west side of the island, but it was still too early to think about making camp. One place that we had in mind for spending the night was the Juniper Flats group site. There were a number of people who we saw there, so that wasn't looking like a possibility. Just past there is a beach and stairs that go up to the two-track road which leads to Hardwood Campground. No one was there but it is a long walk with gear to the campsite. Another not great possibility for us. Beyond the stairs is a little cove that has a waterfall that falls into the cove 10 feet or so out from the shore. Jill was the first to paddle under the drought diminished water. Then Casey tried but ended up beaching the bow of her boat on the shore. After a bit of a struggle with raising her rudder and pushing herself off she paddled under the falls. Then off we went, to parts unknown as far as camping. There was an eagle perched on a dead tree on a tall rock bluff. The rock is all tan and maroon tinted sandstone on the west side; mostly cliffs , which makes for awesome scenery but with few places to land and camp. There is a low arch before the a beach that I call the Northwest Beach. With the low water it was hardly possible to pass beneath it. Even the beach beyond it is low enough water that landing there on the mostly rock shelf means dragging the kayak in shallow water for a distance. We chose a back country campsite beyond with fair beach access. It was soon to be dark so that was the deciding factor in finding a campsite. Jill had a large tent that would fit all five and I busied myself with getting dinner of tacos while their tent went up. We were treated to a bit of Northern Lights after full dark, which capped our long day.
Here is the arch-cave from the inside. More than enough room to accommodate the party of kayakers.
We passed the north light house, on it's high cliff above, with just an out-building showing unless you paddled out in the lake a few hundred yards. We stayed out from shore and made for the northeast point, with one pit stop en route. As we paddled along in the sun, a monarch butterfly, fluttering along from the open water to the north, landed on my bow deck. There it stayed, catching a rest, fanning its wings slowly. As I looked about me, in the firmament and over the water, more and more butterflies came into focus. The water gently pulsing around my kayak carried on its surface the drowned shapes of monarchs; those who, on their migration across Lake Superior from the Canadian shore some 70 miles distant, had almost made it to landfall on the south shore. What a wondrous migratory epic we had paddled into on our route around Grand Island! The monarch on my deck fanned more frantically and lifted off, assured of arriving at the stepping stone of Grand Island before flying on to Mexico in due time, if the butterfly's migratory impulse wasn't ended by predatory weather or creature. As we paddled on and made it around the northeast point, the sky began to draw into mottled gray and blue. A west wind was pushing clouds onto our sky-view. I was getting a bit anxious with the weather looking more squally, as well as concern for getting a preferred campsite just outside of Trout Bay. The group's favorite camp site was Cobble Cove, which has a dramatic rock shelf overlooking the whole of Trout Bay. My groups use the rock shelf as a kitchen and living room. The sheltered camp site is used solely as a bedroom. The light and view from the shelf "living room" is so appealing that most campers at the site don't want to leave there until the last rays of the setting sun are extinguished. A possible problem was if another party was already at the site, then we would have to go elsewhere. When we came around the cliffs of the northeast opening of Trout Bay, I stopped and used my binoculars to glass the cove area and it did look as though there was a large power boat at the site. I told the ladies about my observations and said that we should paddle over and see if the boat owner was camping or just visiting the site. As we got closer to the cove it appeared that people from the boat were out on the rock shelf as well as in the cove area. When we paddled into the cove the boat looked to be getting underway. I hailed the boat skipper and he said that they weren't camping, though he wished that they were, "at such a beautiful campsite." So, with relief and elation the Ripper party landed and set up a bucket brigade to shuttle tents, food and camping gear up the steep approach to the camp site and rock shelf. The squall clouds had blown out of our area and it looked as though we were going to have sun and clear skies for our dinner and evening at Cobble Cove.
The Ripper party, paddling into a band of squall clods on Grand Island
With everyone working, on what we thought would be the final dinner on our trip, I soon had a filling meal of Carl's "Guide's Delight", a chicken salad, with Oreo cookies and fruit for dessert. A couple of women in the party broke out wine for watching the sunset. I was content to sip my cup of wine while washing the dishes. The last of the sun was warm and relaxing, not giving any clue about the real possibility of high winds on the morrow. The NOAA weather report warned of a possible small craft advisory on the morrow, but there was no point in worrying about tomorrow when there is nothing to be done other than enjoy the camp, sunset and sound sleep...
Morning dawned with gray moving clouds and a wind that was increasing by the minute. As the wind increased the waves jumped up, moving larger and steeper out into the eastern open lake. I started the stove to heat water back in the woods, sheltering the stove flame from the wind. We ate out in the wind on the ledge and talked about the non-possibility of paddling back to Sand Point for pick-up. No way were we paddling out in the big waves and cold water. One of the eventualities of paddling on Lake Superior was getting wind and wave-bound and this was one of those times. So we hung out on the rock ledge and read in our tents for the day. Spouses and children back home were apprised of our plight by cell phone - marooned on an island - and so the day moved on. I was looking at having a rushed few days following,this trip, as I had an Isle Royale trip scheduled to begin, with 1 day after this trip to prepare - that's 1 day if I wasn't stranded. All I could do was put thoughts of stress and dirty laundry out of my mind and concentrate on being ready for a quick getaway in the morning. Typically the wind began to die just before sunset, but the waves stayed up and Casey was a bit unsure of paddling in the rough water, so we opted for staying the night and making a quick getaway in the morning.
The water and wind were both down in the morning when we made our early getaway and a couple hours later we slid in on the Sand Point beach, where we unloaded gear, walked down to the Park Service headquarters where Wendy's SUV was and loaded up. It was triumphant but sad farewells as the group left me behind in the parking lot, waiting for the shuttle to load the kayaks onto the trailer and begin a hurried trip back to the next kayak trip out of Copper Harbor.
At the shelf "living room" at the Cobble Cove camping site. This tranquil evening sunset became disturbed by morning with high winds and waves, stranding us for the next day.
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