Next time you lose your internet...

We chose the title for this post sitting on the dock as Siskiwit Bay, about 30 miles from any resemblance of “human civilization”.  Ironically, as I am typing this up back at home our internet access is down which has thrown a wrench into several plans this afternoon because I needed internet access to look at reference pictures of my watercolor painting, YouTube for my workout, Netflix to watch TV, and Pinterest for my recipe I’m planning on cooking this evening.  My life has ground to a halt due to lack of internet today.  But these are my “first world problems”.  Or in backpacking terms—“frontcountry problems”.  In the backcountry you are prepared to not have these conveniences like internet but also potable water, sewer systems, electricity, and protection from the elements.   

On day 2 of our hiking trip I rolled out of bed to watch the sunrise as I squatted on the beach of Feldtman Lake filtering the water we needed for the day.  While the water was filtered and safe to drink, it did have a slight tinge of brownish orange due to elements in the area.  We ate our breakfast kneeling on the ground of the tiny mowed area that was our campsite not much bigger than our tent as we scarfed down oatmeal and pop tarts.  We then packed and repacked, organized and reorganized trying to get everything back in our packs in a somewhat comfortable manner.  It always takes a few days to get this routine down so you don’t pack the spork you need for breakfast at the bottom first thing in the morning only to realize that oatmeal isn’t a very good finger food.  We were off and on the trail by 8:40am.  

After an hour of hiking that morning we popped up on a ridge that gave beautiful views of the lake and other features on the little corner of the island we were exploring.  On the trail we trekked through ridgeline alpine areas, tall fir forest, mixed deciduous forest, marshy wetlands, and shrubby meadows.  There was a lot of vegetation that made the trail almost overgrown.  We wandered through stands of thimbleberry bushes that cover most of the island that were over my head, squeezing in on all sides.  All around us was great moose habitat, lots of moose hoof prints on the muddy sections of the trail, but no moose.  And goodness knows we were scouting areas all day as we traipsed through.  There was an old fire watch tower that was an excellent halfway point for lunch.  We climbed up and ate our tuna wraps looking over miles and miles of forests.  We could barely see the lighthouse that we saw from the ferry the previous day, Rainbow Cove where we had our private dinner on the beach, and Siskiwit Bay which was our destination.

At our next rest break we had to start addressing some blister issues that seem to plague us when hiking.  About 1:30 pm Arthur turned around and asks, “Should we be concerned that we have walked 8 miles and haven’t seen a soul?”  I assured him that wasn’t uncommon for this area of the island.  This was the beautiful part of Isle Royale.  We were hiking in a National Park and wouldn’t see more than 7 other people hiking on the secondary trails over our 4 day stay.  Many national parks you would be sharing the trail with a constant stream of hikers.  But it was just us…and the moose wherever they were hiding.  At times the solitude was almost a little frightening to me and hard to get used to.  I will admit that I felt more comfortable that every night there was at least another group at each campground we stayed at so we weren’t completely on our own.  

It was still early afternoon when we rolled into our campground at Siskiwit Bay which we had all to ourselves until another pair of hikers arrived in the evening.  This meant that we would be able to camp in one of the two shelters that were first come, first serve.  I don’t think we could have been more excited for a five star hotel.  These shelters where like a screened in porch—wooden floor, roof, and three walls, with the front wall and door being screen.  There was a picnic table and a few trees to hang up our clothes line.  About 100 yards away was a dock into the bay.  We quickly changed into our swimming suits and tested the water.  It was freezing but crystal clear.  We stayed in the water as long as we could handle to wash off some of the sweat and grime from the trail.  We then rinsed out all of our hiking clothes and set them out on the pier to dry in the sun.  We spend the rest of the afternoon filtering water (of course), lounging in the sun, watching the sea gulls, reading, and enjoying the view. 

This was living.  We were so excited to have the basics—relatively cleaner clothes, less sweaty bodies, cold clear water, and a spacious shelter to sleep in.  There were even picnic tables to sit and eat dinner like civilized people.  We decided to pull out our most elegant backpacking meal—salmon with alfredo noodles and a side of thimbleberries from the bushes around our area.  Later in the evening we had the entertainment of watching a fox try to stalk some sea gulls. 

This was our favorite campsite of the trip and we were so glad that we put our miles in early so we could enjoy our afternoon at the edge of Siskiwit Bay.  We found it very enjoyable to just sit and watch what happened around us over the course of the afternoon and evening.  We watched a duck and ducklings bobbing up and down to dive to get minnows.  There were two sailboats anchored in the bay for the night so we watched their coming and goings.  One sea gull sat on the end of the pier all afternoon, practically without moving.  The loons called occasionally as night set in.  A foggy mist moved in and out of the bay.  The sun set casting pinks, reds, and oranges into the mist.  The sly fox on the prowl was a highlight.  We even noted how the light and color of the water changed too.  We couldn’t remember the last time we had sat and immersed ourselves in an area and just observed for several hours.  It was rewarding to think that we were some of just a handful of people this summer who have escaped into the wild to the calm of Siskiwit Bay.  It is at least a 15 mile hike from the ferry dock so only those willing to put forth the effort get this reward---another case of high hanging fruit.