Fleeting Capture: September 2023

"The federal law says that you can only camp here for one night. So, where would you like me to list you for the other nights of your visit?”

The National Park ranger was kind and helpful, though very clear in her directive, adding: “You could elect to stay the other two nights, but the federal marshal on this island can cite you for a federal violation.”

Here I was, on the ferry dock entry point at Rock Harbor, Isle Royale, looking at my loaded bicycle, wondering how I was going to get to another campground 3 miles away from this dock over the rocky terrain of Isle Royale. Doing quick mental math would be two loaded trips over 12 miles round trip carrying my gear for just one night, and then again upon my return. I tried to show her my loaded bicycle, which she admonished cannot leave the dock area (“there’s the bike rack where it can stay.”) to no avail, pleading for another two nights under these unusual circumstances.

So, how did this happen? Why?

I circumnavigated Lake Superior in 2006, 17 years earlier, but never got close to Isle Royale, which is closer to Canada and the arrowhead of Minnesota than the State of Michigan where it technically lies. I skirted the north shore of Superior last year on my Canada transect, drawn to the majesty and mystery of Lake Superior - again. That was a monumental trip, so I was searching for another, shorter loop I could take to include Lake Superior.

Studying routes and making a plan is considerably easier today than it was in 2006 when we still had to use paper maps. One can scan the Google-sphere for maps and information along any route, anywhere, and even chart mileages and elevation using any number of applications. And when doing so while scanning the coastline maps, I become intrigued with the faint dotted lines that connect points and places along sea and shore. These dotted lines led me to a ferry from Copper Harbor, Michigan – at the very tip of the copper-laden Keweenaw Peninsula of Michigan - to Isle Royale, fully a National Park. Within minutes, I located the Isle Royale Queen IV passage schedule. One critical leg of my loop was found.

There are similar dotted lines from Grand Portage, Minnesota that circle Isle Royale and return to Grand Portage, making several stops on the island. I soon found that the Voyageur II based in Grand Portage makes stops in Windigo on the southern tip of this narrow 44-mile-long island, and Rock Harbor on the north end. Though they are not on a fully aligned schedule, it was thus possible to cross Lake Superior from Copper Harbor to Grand Portage via Isle Royale, a place I have always wanted to visit. I could spend three nights at the Rock Harbor Campground, do some day hiking, and complete a loop tour. Both ferry lines take canoes, kayaks, and bicycles. DONE! I booked the Isle Royale Queen for the final Saturday departure of the year on September 9^th. If I arrived a day earlier in Copper Harbor, I could take the earlier ferry on Friday.

Filling in the tour planning blanks from St Paul to Copper Harbor is easy: Luck, Wisconsin (1/2 day, 64 miles); Spooner, Wisconsin (54 miles); Clam Lake, Wisconsin (74 miles); Bergland, Michigan (80 miles in 98 degree temperatures); historic Calumet, Michigan (50 miles); and a final damp, shore-hugging, head-windy swing into Copper Harbor along an amazing route M26 (40 miles).

The classic architecture of Calumet

The wild waves along the M26 - an amazing ride

Wood for sale, with inscribed messages
"Life's a Journey" "Enjoy the Ride" "Eat some blueberries"

Take a day off in Copper Harbor to take stock, stock up, and catch up on business matters. Though a day off, a 19-mile loop over the amazing Brockway Mountain Road for the amazing views is like a walk in the park.

The view from the top across the Keweenaw

Crest of Brockway Mountain

Upon arrival mid-afternoon Thursday, I checked in at the ferry dock. It was closed, unattended. I would wait until the Friday morning departure to verify my arrangement for Saturday and determine how transporting the bicycle works. Interestingly, when riding from Calumet the day before, Lake Superior was a boiling sea of high, windy surf. The ferry was canceled due to the weather, which meant they would make two runs to Isle Royale on Friday. Of course, if the weather did not subside, I could be stuck in Copper Harbor. I was assured that the ferry would run on Saturday as the weather looked favorable for a smooth crossing - information now instantaneously available via internet applications.

The Royale Queen IV

Underway to Isle Royale

Saturday, September 9^th broke clear, cool and sunny, with an amazing sunrise as I walked my loaded bicycle to the ferry dock at 7:00 AM. We’re sailing! I love ferries and always have. I have been on so many, even searching them out when planning. One local I met on my ride up the peninsula said the ferry is often referred to as the “barf barge.” I expected no such problem, for the surf was calm, the winds low. The three-hour passage was pleasant, with seating limited but with the ability to walk about the deck. It was mesmerizing, especially as Isle Royale started to come into view. We pulled into Rock Harbor around noon and tied up on the ferry dock, waiting for my bike to be unloaded from the roof deck.

Unloading my bike

“Lodge guests, go to that end of the pier. Campers, follow me for orientation and permit registration.”

The 20 or so people in the camping group received a mildly goofy though entertaining orientation to the island by a Park Ranger before lining up to have her take our island itinerary and issue us a permit to be there. There are no reservations (except for the Rock Harbor Lodge across a small bay). As I was toward the end of the line, I finally approached her and indicated three nights in Rock Harbor campground, please.

“The federal law says that you can only camp here for one night. So, where would you like me to list you for the other nights of your visit?”

That’s how this story started, and now I was stuck. I came to find out that bikers are quite rare on the island, and this rule about one night simply did not make any sense to me. We discussed options. She offered, finally, that I could rent a canoe and paddle to an island in the harbor that is a designated campsite and shuttle my gear the next morning after spending the night at Rock Harbor. I could spend the night on the island, then paddle back for a final night at Rock Harbor and catch the Voyageur II to Grand Portage on the Tuesday morning run. That was a plausible and intriguing suggestion. I took it, and she wrote up my permit. I went next door to the boatman and made a reservation for a canoe the next day – made on a post-it note.

I went to set up camp, portaging my gear over two trips to a walk-in campsite, first come, first served (“but share, please”). I then decided to book my ferry passage for Tuesday, which was handled by the lodge concessionaire. I had not previously booked since I was uncertain which ferry I would end up with out of Copper Harbor. I walked to the lodge around the harbor, overwhelmed as they were by the ferry cancellation of the day before with a new batch of customers waiting patiently for their rooms. The attendant was a kindly older staffer who was gracious to make the reservation for me since we mortals had no cell service or internet on the island (satellite for the lodge and park). When she finally cleared her customer load, she went onto the website.

“Let’s see . . . Tuesday. . . SOLD OUT!”

Oh! One cannot adequately describe the pit that suddenly formed in my gut at the sound of those words. Here I am, on an island distant from both shores. My only other option was to take the Sunday ferry the next day:

“Let’s see . . . Sunday. . . SOLD OUT!”

The pit just became a crater! She offered that this seemed unusual from her experience, so the best option was to talk to the captain when the Voyageur II arrived and tied up for the night around 4:00PM.

With a few hours to kill and sweat my situation, I laid low in my campsite, soaking the sun, possibly nodding off in my portable chair (a trusted nap-a-matic), before returning to a bench on the dock awaiting the ferry. It finally rounded the harbor mouth.

Now, the Isle Royale Ferry from Copper Harbor looks every bit as a ferry should: clean, white-washed, and accommodating. The Voyageur II came in looking every part converted fishing boat – smaller, tighter, with less capacity. Thoughts of the African Queen movie sprung to mind. When it appeared convenient, I approached the captain, a short, somewhat burly fellow (a Bogart impersonator?), and asked if there would be availability on Tuesday for another passenger with a bicycle.

The Voyageur II dockside

“I cannot guarantee there will be space. I do not get my passenger manifest until Monday morning.”

My pit, my crater was now gargantuan, and his response left me no choice:

“So, what about tomorrow morning?” I asked.

“I have two spots available.”

There are times when the accumulation of information can be condensed into a nanosecond of human processing time. Sizing up his craft of limited capacity, the decision became clear, without choice, in a nanosecond: I took the spot.

“Be dockside at 7:00 AM for an 8:00 departure.”

With a mixture of relief and regret, and the hour now close to 5:00, I scrambled with a quick gait on a 4-mile loop trail to Suzy's cave, if only to relieve the pent-up anxiety of the afternoon and see at least a tiny spec of this magnificent island.

Scenes of the Suzy's Cave loop trail

Flower before the cave

Tobin Harbor - inland from Superior

Arriving back to camp, I chatted with my camp neighbors (a guide-couple for the island, also taking the ferry to another spot on the eastern shore and hiking back with their Des Moines-based client), learning much about the island while eating my “mash dinner” (instant mashed potatoes with cubes of Spam). I reconciled my situation as just another daily stop along a bicycle trip, rather than an extended hiking/biking trip. It would be OK. I have now learned how this island, catering mostly to backpackers, kayakers, and canoeists, functions.

Packing up in the darkness, I portaged my gear back to the dock, shrouded in a heavy morning fog. The "Queen" was quiet. Turns out the captain sleeps on his boat.

A surreal, beautiful morning fog

He finally emerged and started methodically loading the boat with his helper, my bicycle being one of the last items to get strapped upon the roof. I chatted with a few other passengers, including the retired attorney Eric, vagabonding around the country. Turns out we had a lot to talk about, as he too was headed to Grand Portage, then to Vermont.

I paid my fare to the captain, thanked him profusely, and boarded the boat. Note that I am not really classifying this as a ferry since it really didn’t feel like a ferry. But it would do the trick. We moved through the fog onto a very calm, glassy Lake Superior, only the loud motor working to drown other thoughts and conversation. Not a wave in sight but the ones we created aft. I was off the island, relieved. I enjoyed the company of the few other passengers, especially of Eric and also Kaylor, a young park ranger sitting next to me on the foredeck on her final island days off to go backpacking, from whom I learned much about the island, her job, and ambitions. I was authoritatively corrected that the correct pronunciation is not “Aisle Roy-yalle” with a French lilt as it seems it is spelled, but simply “Isle Royal.” The voyage was splendid as the sun came out, melted the fog into the glassy lake and warmed the soul.

My ferry mates on the few seats foredeck

Making three stops along the eastern shoreline, the ferry dropped off and picked up a few passengers on small docks, basically just a trailhead accessed from the water. The passenger load was lighter than I expected, and I began to wonder if I could have had a spot on Tuesday – there seemed enough room on this small craft. That thought lingered until we rounded the corner into Windigo Harbor, on the southern tip of the island, where appeared a long line of backpackers waiting on the dock to board.

It all suddenly made sense to me; an aha moment. This is a backpacker's mecca, and the only way to access the island is either at Windigo from Minnesota or Rock Harbor from Michigan. The campsites at both harbors are intended to give a spot to disembarking backpackers as a place to land overnight before heading off into any number of trails in the hinterland of this magnificent island – a true one-night stand! If passengers hung around those campgrounds, they would become quickly overcrowded. Though this simple logic was not explained to me when registering for a permit, I had to discover it, anxiety and all, and recognize the hard truth that this island is but a pass-through for the rare bicyclist.

The boat, now crowded, with me planted foredeck, alone to think amidst this new crowd, arrived in Grand Portage around 4:00. I was back on the mainland. After unloading my bike and reloading my gear, I headed to Judge Magney State Park (23 miles) to camp (in a free hiker/biker site), followed by Grand Marais (where I ran into Eric again) and then Silver Bay (71 miles) in an epic rainstorm, and then Duluth (60 miles) where I decided to meet Becky and hike in Jay Cooke State Park – I finally got my hiking fix!

I can only think of Robert Burns's poem To A Mouse:

The best laid schemes o’ Mice an’ Men

Gang aft agley,

An’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain,

For promis’d joy!

And it’s OK! I came, I saw, I learned to return again better prepared.

A few other pictures of this journey: