Superior Session: Parusing the Portage Canal a.k.a. Keeweenaw Waterway of Glory rd i

It happens to be sometime three or four days later than we intended arriving at this point, entrance to the Portage Canal- perhaps it was the weather, or perhaps it was my zest for planning an ambitious first week. Regardless we made it. Barometer was on the fall, our food not quite sufficient enough to make the push to Copper Harbor, so we decided to roll on down, well paddle rather, through the waterway, opposed to going the distance, up and around.

Luckily this lesson in patience paid off, as the region within and beyond five nautical miles from shore, got hammered with some wicked storms. After our elongated day paddling from Misery Bay to the canal we were hit with some winds at days end that took that last bit of energy from our paddling prowess. Around the break wall and set for the evening we would be ready for the next days cruise into Hancock to secure another food box and more miles...

Yet, you can not get too comfortable with your daily plan, as the next day roused us from our damp Marmot sleeping palace of glory we were greeted with some east winds which built and built throughout the morning. By the time we reached Hancock it was just after noon leaving our four hours of effort and eight miles of travel in the humble zone. The post office situating itself uphill of the water we were able to stretch those sea legs and meander about this small, friendly town.

Although we can't be 100% absolutely certain, somewhere amidst a confidence interval of 98.6% we're fairly certain we met the friendliest people in town. They happened to be residing inside Jim's Family Pizza restaurant. Saying these folks were a 'hoot' would be an understatement, so I'll mention they were a hoot cubed. Food was great- and as we got to talking/questioning about the area, it was confirmed these were not your average yoopers. We were told of an eagle's nest that was damn near the size of a volkswagon, stories of the great Gichi Gumee, and even an offer to use their van to take a tour of da old mine. Now, where da heck are you going to find genuine friendlies like that? Throughout this entourage, Ma' the waitress kept our coffee cups full, which by stories end had amounted to roughly four rounds of that Arco gold. The walls were moving, the world humming and my determination to accomplish something, anything was through the roof. WHAAAA HOOOO WHEEE!!! Keeweenaw Co-Op here we come!!

The walk through town was a blurr, blur of crazy drivers, wind whipping through the trees, and some old guy staring at a roofing project. Twas an experience. By the time we reached the boats, fate had informed us we would not be heading any further east that day, rather back three miles from whence we came to the campground. Bummer on the spirits, but those were some of the fastest three miles we've thrown down thus far.

The campground experience was a real trip. Large campers, folks on cell phones, (ironic to be camping, but chatting it up with your best buddies) and little people on bicycles riding through campsites with a vengeance. (I must be getting old, but back in my day... Joking)

The wind thoroughly dried out all our clothing, but that privilege was also short-lived. A slight amount of time prior to our nightly journey to ZZZZZville the weather radio informed us of a torrential torment of rain, lightning, potential hail topped by some 50-70mph winds. Not a good nite to be on the Lake, patrons on the water were instructed to "put on your life jacket" - wowsers, that is the NEW standard for forecasting, if something is going down and you've to don your life jacket, well heck you'd better know its going to be a hum dinger. We promptly took down everything we had put up hours previous and waited for the storm to blaze its fury down upon us. As luck would have it, we received a mere scolding from the storm- heavy wind gusts, rain, thunder- but nothing too severe, our tent held strong and our spirits and bodies dry - YAHOO Marmot!!