Knowledge enhancer round six

As the month rolls on, shorter days and cooler nights grace our presence from time to time... This weeks' fact is dedicated to Lake Effect, not the book about being a deckhand on the great lakes, but that glorious weather pattern which draws moisture from that deep fresh water, to lay down inches upon inches of white gold in the winter. (Or in some cases bountious precipitation in the spring/fall for another delectable pattern known as 'creeking/river running season').

Any lover of the winter season must appreciate that Lake Superior produces the greatest lake effect snows on earth. (Significant lake effect snows are a rare phenomenon, occurring--besides on the Great Lakes--only on the east shore of Hudson Bay and the west coasts of two Japanese islands.) Lake effect snows extend 20 to 30 miles inland, primarily on the Ontario shore southeast of Marathon, and from Sault Ste. Marie to the Wisconsin-Michigan border. Average annual snowfall in Michigan's Keweenaw exceeds 200 inches in places.

So before you lace up the mukluks, plop on the snow shoes, or drop that knee to the ski this winter, make sure you are well versed in the local geography/topography of your adventure land. That will ensure you enjoyment of the outdoors keeps you happy and far from being lost. Like Ralphie says, "there's no berry quite harsher than being lost in the wilds during the winter."

Until next time, keep doing what you do and those days filled with health, happiness and laughter...

Knowledge enhancer round five

Wild world of factoid followers... This weeks' enhancement of knowledge is brought you with ever appreciated clarity of the clarity in Lake Superior...

If you've paddled these mighty waters, whether in the ambient Apostle Islands or in the stupendous shield of Canada, you know you can see down dare under the water quite a ways...

In fact, the average underwater visibility of Lake Superior is 27 feet, making it easily the cleanest and clearest of the Great Lakes. Underwater visibility in places reaches 100 feet. Lake Superior has been described as "the most oligotrophic lake in the world." (A great combination of letters to score you BIG in scrabble)

**(For an even greater enhancement of knowledge the word 'OLIGOTROPHIC'is an adjective of Ecology. (of a lake) characterized by a low accumulation of dissolved nutrient salts, supporting but a sparse growth of algae and other organisms, and having a high oxygen content owing to the low organic content.
Based on the Random House Unabridged Dictionary, © Random House, Inc. 2006.)**

Thanks for checking out the goods keep that health, happiness and laughter infused in the daily experience....& for Ralphie's sake, make sure you let others know where you are berry picking so you don't get lost...

Making of a Melee

As the month has begun to wear on, our present locale much further delayed than we intended we began to realize that making it to our friends wedding come August 15 could induce a bit of an epic adventure to our current status. Our present lifestyle has involved greyhound buses, rental cars, friend visitation, car poolage, little children, more friends and a glorious union of Craigville and Schaeffer Nation.

This wild inducer of surreal actuality has been our reality:

8/11/2008
Arrive Wawa, Ontario at Naturually Superior Outfitters to pick up food box, logistisize our options. In this present locale we are treated with unpresidented hospitality, generosity, a delicious lunch and amazing accomodating energy. We figure out our travel options, plan for a Greyhound ride away from the eastern Lake Superior back towards the other side of the lake. We pack up our essentials and head store our boats on their rack. They've got a groovy concert going on, which we indulge upon and then a staff member takes us to his home to revel in the olympic games until we are dropped at the bus station around 1:30AM style.

8/12/2008
It's bloody early. No one is around here. The bus station = bench on sidewalk with a Greyhound logo behind us. Bus arrives late (after 3:00 AM). Due to nature of our travels we were unable to purchase a ticket before hand, on internets we are instructed to pay the bus driver. He seems slightly confused by all of this and takes some of our money, which he will then give to the other bus driver when they switch over and then at our final desitnation will walk with me to ticket counter and settle up the proper ammounts... Little sketched with this, but sleep deprived and needing to get on that bus we take what we can get.

Still early, but we stop (4:30AM) to swap bus drivers. I get pulled out by the man, and chat with the new lady bus driver. Seems all right and we board our transportation station on wheels. The next six hours are a blur of sketchy highway, bashing on Americans (bus driver and her sister-who, far as I could tell was just along for the ride, had lots of solid material against the good 'ol U.S. of A- good times). Ok so here we are on this bus, its cruising, sub consciously I am hearing all these 'great' things about the states, blah this and that, thinking, as awkward as this is, we are in the middle of bum diddly um nowhere so there is no way we are going to say we are from the states and have this driver (who may be a timebomb) leave us and our belongings on the side of the highway. Back to sleep for a little while.

Not so exactly sure, but I am quite positive our 90+ minutes of lateness was created largely in part by the several smoke breaks the 'bus' had to take. Despite the ridiculous nature and desire to get out move on I actually found myself feeling that anticipation of somehting amazing about to happen, like on that T.V. show where they hook people up with homes and mouthing "Move that Bus!". Very few times in my life will I say I was anxious to get to Thunder Bay- this was one of them.

We arrive in Thunder Bay, where our next objective was to get to Minnesota... I know what you are thinking, why didn't you just take the Greyhound? Good question, probably because it would have taken us BACK to Toronto, crossed at Buffalo New York and then journied for two days until it made it to Duluth. In Tunder Bay (as the locals call it, or maybe I just fell for it, "oh yah, you wanna sound like a Canadian eh, you'd better get rid of da H in Thunder Bay") there is this ironically named business called "Happy Time Tourism" which was recommended to us by the Tunder Bay tourism folks. They were reccommended because they have a bus that travels down to the Grand Portage Casino and service to Duluth... We were told folks use it all the time. So we're here thinking, well heck, its our best bet to get to Minnesota and then on our way to the glory land. Talking to this company (and I will refer to it as the company so not to disclose the individuals name), they made no mention on the phone that this bus was for CASINO customers only, that was told to me in a quite non professional, agitated profiling demeanor (denouncing the bus was for PAYING CUSTOMERS not TRAVELERS) after we took a 45 minute city bus ride over to their place by the airport. (sahhhwwwwheeeet!) I even offered to pay this place to take us on the bus, but to no avail she told me we could come back tomorrow and pay $75 each way to get to Duluth. We're sitting in the mid day sun, menacing what to do next, when I see an Avis car rental...

Long story short we went to lunch at this place 'Penalty Box', bar with a hockey rink in it- WILD, did some economical figuring and determined all things aside, plus convenience (as this was Tuesday and the bus would not leave until Wednesday) it was indeed cheaper to rent a car. Avis, of course did not have the kia rio they orgionally enticed me with, and provided us with a 2008 Red VW Jetta, which meant of course this car would be going the speed limit or slightly under. Ok, so we're cruising down to meet with friends in Minnesota to carpool to this once in a lifetime event, when BAM!!! Just kidding, nothing happend, wanted to make sure this story was worth your while... Got a little hasseling at the border, but that's to be expected eh?

Tuesday before sundown we are in Ely Minnesota with some friends and a bed to sleep in. For the next few days we would enjoy the North Country, learn about wildlife sounds, owls, a beaver and wolves before proceeding down to the Mason area for da weddin.

8/15/2008
Make that journey a down to the land we all know so well - clear skies, not much wind, sunny. Perfect day for a wedding. Don't exactly know how to bust out a play-by-play of our experience, but it was glorious. Perhaps we'll leave it at that. Some damn fine people making a damn fine couple fixing to spend a bountiful life together.

8/16/2008
Amidst the haute sun we clamber back into the car (eventually) after meeting friends, replenishing the caloric necessity, swimming in the lake and head to Ely to pick up the rental car for the next days' journey. Nothing too eventful on this stupendous Saturday, some travel, beautiful MOONRISE.

8/17/2008
Bid our Northern Minnesota experience farewell for now and retrace our steps back around that there lively lake to get in and PADDLE!!! Yowsa. Hopefully no issues at the border, and a plesant bus ride back to the land of WAWA.

So do we close this tale like a mastercard commercial?
Bus from Wawa to Tunder Bay: Canadian Dollars
Rental Car to Ely: More Canadian Dollars
Delicious Mexican food in Ely: US dollars
Seeing two amazing people commence and begin a glorious life together and getting to write a biligerant tale about the entire thing: priceless

As of this point in time we are thinking we will be out for another 3.5-4.5 weeks; weather dependent. Communication will probably be spotty, but you can always leave a messege, which we will check periodically.


Other than that, do what you do, be who you be and keep those days filled with health, happiness and laughter...

CONGRATULATIONS NEWLY WEDS!!!

FELICICATIONES ALAN Y STACY!!!!

Just a brief shout to our friends and congratulations to thier union of lives!! Glad to have been able to be there - we weren't going to miss it for anyhting...

Bountious remainder of the summer your way and keep those days filled with health, happiness, and laughter...



You warm our hearts...

Kayak Cruising

Most of the time when we get to a computer we're trying to make the most of the time, keeping the big picture in play; e.g. where we've been, what's been going on, what we're doing etc...

With lack of frequency do we discuss what its like on the water, what goes through the noggin, how amazing this experience has been...

We're out there paddling, floating admist this ambient azure power subsequently living the dream. A reality which no creative coreographed group of words can bring true appreciation out of.

People ask what we talk about on the water.

Most of the time we tell them we don't talk, which has pretty much been the case, on the water for me (Brian) there is an appreciated element of silence. Just existing, paddling, partaking in that perpetual motion achieved by bladed travel speaks volumes to the inner. That, I believe is what I have always loved about paddling, being one with your craft, your gear and moving silently through the geographic locales of your desire.

Sure, days exist when the wind is blowing its heart out, over the plains, down the valley, over the lake and right into your face. It feels intrusive, abrasive and down right mentally if not physically debilitating- but you keep moving, you keep paddling, making ground (even if just a little bit) because that's what we do, we paddle. We're paddlers. Time exists in a different realm out there. An hour can feel as though it is an eternity and several hours can flash by momentarily, its all perspective.

Usually when its hauling there is music flowing through the cerebral hallways up dare in the noggin. However it seems as though my RAM only holds the chorus of those popular songs which defined a generation, one which came a few before my own. Those words, feelings, meanings whether from the past or present entice the experience generate energy and fuel the forward motion...

Through that added energy determination, passion and prowess for what we are doing makes it all seem worth it. Worth it to endure this experience through whatever hardships we encounter we can press through to magnificent rewards. It is mind boggling to think of an entrancing re-occuring experience to be paddling though four or more foot waves... To feel the water flow by you, to watch the horizon disappear, to be high above all the other waves, to see nothing but water and crest in front of you, makes it all worth it. The blade bites into the incoming garuantee of cold liquid, pulls you and boat forward so the bow may break through that wall of water providing momentum so that you in turn with the rest of the boat may break through and continue on your way; ready for the next one in just a few moments. As miles melt beyond blades, the changing sights, it makes it all worth it. The journey, the experience, the stories...

It's all part of something. Something we'll continue to participate in so long as our bodies, boats and minds allow... For there isn't much more of a simpler divine pleasure than messing about in boats.

Creating Commentary

So you wanna make a comment?



We've gotten some interesting emails, phone calls etc through the previous few weeks regarding the leaving of commentary on the posts... No worries, we'll try to break it down simple style right here:

Click on the "comments" dealy at the bottom of the post.
Once you do that it will take you to a screen where you may type your comment.
You will have to copy the jumble of letters for the security code.
You do not need an account
From there you may leave the comment as anonymous, or click on the little option which says Name/URL- that is where you may leave your name
Click publish

Badda bing, badda boom, you've exercised your right to free speech. WRITE ON!

Just can't get enough or away from dis here type of shoreline, impressive and itinerary dictating... ROCKIN!!


Kickin beach located a few hops, not so many skips, a jump or thrice from our billy goating session...


Billy goatin' around some 'not quite soft' rocks making sure the legs still work after a burly battle through a 15+ kt headwind in the morning...

Paddlin towards the Pukwasaw

This section of our journey would (thus far) turn into one of the most prolonged, powerfully historical and beautiful locales our two bladed travel has taken us through.

Not far from Montreal River Harbour we reached Lake Superior Provincial Park, which to describe can only really fall close to creating a burlier Quetico on a MONSTER body of fresh water. Not too far from the Park's mighty large beach, we ran into the infamous pictographs painted on the walls that drop right into the lake. We arrived in the late day sun which provided a warm light inflating the ambiance (it was probably at eleven!) and inducing an actualization that this lake has some cultural roots.

Paddling beyond that beautious area we were greeted with some late day swells, some of them 3+ foot (over a meter) in height. Slightly wild at the end of the day, but at least there was no wind and these waves were not breaking. Weaving in and out of various coves we've come to appreciate the lack of shoreline development in this region of Canada (there is no development in the provincial park, some islands have houses, otherwise its all wild). Before we reached the park one can contimplate the immense difference between stateside lakeshore property and Canadian lakeshore property. In the states you will most likely find a large chunk of land cleared of trees with a sizable abode looking out and over the lake. In Canada you locate a lakeside structure, but it will be fairly hidden, blending in with its surroundings and enjoying a peaceful coexistence with the forest. Anyhow I digress.

It seems the first night we made it to a presentable place called Sinclaire Cove, nice cobble beach landing with a view of some islands. Over the next few days we would hop from wind sheltered to area to wind sheltered area as the north/ north west wind began to blow. Some days it was a gamble, as the weather would sometimes stabilze toward the end of the afternoon, leaving a few hours of plesant paddling just before the sun went down and other days it would blow into the night leaving your options open to charge into some headwind practice and patience. Paddling through these areas makes one truly appreciate the dynamic nature of the Apostle Islands and all the options they tend to offer when the weather gets heavy. I have been amazed here how the wind can generage some sizeable waves with fairly small fetch (in some cases) to really make you work for your dinner. We made almost a full day to just past Gargantua Bay, then got some groove on towards Old Woman Bay until we got shut down by a tempremental thunderstorm. The two following days were spent battling burly 15+ knot winds and sizable seas. Through all that we were able to camp in some rocking places and redefine our perception of cold water. In short swimming over here entrances your entire body and just leaves you speachless.

Needless to say we soon learned our weathering capabilities as day six and seven (where we had thought it would take 3-5 days in this bountiful land) finally landed us within striking distance of our entrance to the renowned prowess of the north eastern part of the lake. All our things currently reside at the mouth of the Mitchipicoten river with the crew at Naturally Superior whom welcomed us with open arms, warm vibes, delicious food and kicking place on Lake Superior.

Galavanting granite uphevaling its way into the world...


At sometime during the day frontal ridge located on a line NE to SW of where we were traveling... Fifteen minutes later, located quite further away...


Boats on the beach... Most likely of cobular stonage, somewheres near Gargantua bay...

Giving it a go along rocky shores...


Rocks and lake, lake and rocks... Bit of a re-occuring theme in these here parts...


Crossing some bays into the next of the unknown in Lake Superior Provencial Park...


Getting set to leave the serenity on the back side of Sinclaire Cove...


Break out the Bi-foculars (close range binoculars) and have a gander at this: pictographs - one of the largest collections on Lake Superior, denoting the importance of the lake's presence to people for over 1,000 years...

Looking for adventure...

Canada. Today we would fullfill my desire to have macaroni and cheese for breakfast. SCORE! When you are on trail you always talk about doing goofy stuff you may not ordinarily do, but I'll be darned if a hefty serving of some noodly concoction in the morning time is ever a bad idea...

So here we are, paddling in another country, having kayaks as our means of transportation and like a magical ficticious wave of a wand the shoreline goes from sand to ROCK- Burly rock just like that. There, I doubt will be a dull day of paddling on this here stretch of shoreline.

This section's journey took us from the south of some harbour we never found until we paddled by it the next day to Montreal River Harbour. Winds were at our backs SW with minimal wind and some slight waves eventually switching to SE. Our acclimation today was to the gigantic granite slabulature which just shoots from the azure depths below towards the sky. COOL! Mixed in will be some heavy style basalt encompassing the entire experience as canadian shield. Definitely no lack of things to look at. Our potential weakness here may connect with our ability to task manage, can't be day dreaming too much as to not miss landings- so a balance exists in paddling from point A to B and immersing oneself in the geological history along the way. We're able to fully appreciate the sortment of the rocks- the cobbles go from penny to melon size and in some rare occurances we found beaches with that perfect 'textbook' assortment. Big bowling ball type rocks, to melon size, to orange,pear, apple, right down to pebble - WILD.

As the day grew near its end we came upon our resting locale where we happened to meet some geological appreciating educators from the Grand Rapids (Michigan) area. They were paddling around some granduesque formation of granite emmerging from the Lake and convinced us (which wasn't too hard) to set up shop at the Twilight Campground right in Montreal River Harbour. We had a food drop waiting somewhere in the area so it all made sense. As day turned to dusk Alissa was able to show others whom understand much better than I of the rarity of her rocks. We kicked it around the campfire, they sang songs and even set us up with.... DRUM ROLL... South Shore NUT BROWN!! What a DAY!! Glorious paddling, righteous rock formations and a delectable drink from the homeland - doesn't get much better than that.

Land abruptly meeting the Sea... The sea of inland persuasion with some sort of granite introduction...


You can tell we are not in Kansas anymore, mostly because we never were, they don't have large amounts of bountiful fresh water, and the shoreline here looks so, Canadian...


As we complete the 18+ mile, roughly 30 kilometer crossing we pass the baton from the United States to Canada...


Getting our calm crossing on, beyond five nautical miles from shore past the U.S. slash Canadian border...


Listen to the soothing sound of thunder rolling across the bay as you drift away in the warmth of the late day sun... Open your eyes and realize that's no thunder- but the mighty roar of an upbound frieghter... ZOINKS! (denoting an EXTREMELY surprised demeanor)

Cravin a Crossing

It's once been said, quoted, announced- that "anywhere is within walking distance if you have the time" - much like I can not remember where I've heard that, we have taken its simple messege into "you certainly can cross 18 miles or so of open water if you're willing to wait..."

And ALAS- that wait will pay off in one way or another. We roused early on that this fine Sunday in our tripping history to be greeted with a partly cloudy sky (on the Canadian side of the lake), a slight wind, not from the origional predicted location and one lonely freighter heading upbound (I would not score any points with this one as I saw it before I heard it). As we adjusted our compasses to a bearing of 40 degrees (aiming with a slight extra northern inclination to compensate for the North West wind), we partook in a menacing streching escapade leaving all that lethargia from several days of not paddling. Somewhere in that mix of packing, eating breakfast, final checks to the chart the reality settled in as to our impending task.

Boats touch the water for the first time in days and the presence of paddling for the first six miles seems fast paced (adrenaline, anxiety, and shipping lanes add to this). Beyond five nautical miles from shore (for folks whom don't listen to a marine forecast all the time, this phrase may not be as funny for you, but worry not, we'll enjoy it extra style to increase the collective appreciation and humor), the wind begins to settle and ambiance of a calm crossing settle in. Out in such a vast expanse of open water one can truly appreciate that peaceful means of travel by human powered boat. Many a previous time we have heard the phrase, water, water everywhere... That was our chance, our experience, out existence for a few hours - everything having lead up to it, we'd have to concur it was pretty darn sweet!

The legs started to get a little antzy and some five hours since our launch we arrive on the otherside... CANADA! Becuase we gave ourselves extra buffer for travel we ended up landing a little further north, elongating our crossing slightly. Nonetheless it gave us some extra mileage to the northward side of things so we could take that gamepoint and make additional headway. Something we did do after we consumed our pre-made noodles and sacked out on a beach for 90 minutes. Attempting to assess our current local at that time proved we were somewhere north of Pancake Bay, the local Canadians could not be too sure, but they were sure there was a nice little harbour just a few miles (kilometers)down the shoreline- this however after two more hours of paddling would prove that everyone's sense of scale is not necessarily accurate. What is 3.2 kilometers (roughly 2 miles) can actually be like 10K (six miles or so) to another; plan accordingly.

Luckily we found a nice beach with sand (something which is to be cherished, we are told on this section of the lake) mixed with some cobbles and home to a perturbing population of Mosquitos. As we lay down to sleep we were too tired to process the irony of padding openwater to this vast land of wilderness and rugged shoreline to be lulled to sleep by the ambiance of jake brakes and travellers on the King's highway not more than a five minute walk away.

Quite a bountiful day though in terms of experience actually making some ground and entering an entirely different realm of reality...

THE first lighthouse on Lake Superior... EVER!! & now serving as a ship wreck museum, how cool is that?


The actual bell from the helm of the Edmund Fitzgerald...


The suit used to retrieve the bell, and replace it with an identical bell acting as a memorial with the names of all 29 nine crew members whom eternally rest with the ship.


A small excerpt of information about the Fitz' final hours...

And how many days can you wait out... that ol' north westerly wind?

*(I am humming that to the tune of Bobby D's 'blowing in the wind - which among other things is what we've been doing during our prolonged stay near Whitefish Point)

The quick and hopefully mildly entertaining scoop as our journey has come to a weather bound waylaying hault.

We arrived to Whitefish Point a few days behind our intended arrival to be shut down by some northwest winds barreling across 200 miles of open water for an additional four days. Luckily the imagination runs strong in this duo as well as ability to become sloth-like should conditions call for that necessity.

The first day we journied from our wind protected encampment to search out a dire answer to our question "Which way was the wind blowing when the Edmund Fitzgerald went down?" By reasoning of deductive nature my bets were on a North West or North wind. Other folks we encountered deemed North East, and more often than not, lots of folks hadn't the faintest idea; this ironically enough would be the case at the shipwreck museum. We'll get to that though.

Whitefish Point actually has some amazing iconical history. It happened to be the FIRST light on Lake Superior (built somewhere around the time Wisconsin became a state 1848 and first lit in 1849), complete with a lifesaving station. That is a crew of burly guys would go out in 25ft surf boats (not like the surf skis we're used to) row through some crashing waves and rescue ship wreck victims near the vicinity. How wild is that? So here we are, admiring this looming lighthouse, reading all about it, hearing from the history bearers and what do we find? That one of the main lightkeepers for the station was from the Bayfield Area... He along with his family served as light keepers on Sand Island, their children were born in Ashland, Wisconsin and they transfered to the Whitefish Point station to earn an extra $10 dollars a month. Small world eh? The light has been essential for over 150 years and guided ships to and from the Sault Ste Marie area almost failessly, except for the night the Edmund Fitzgerald went down when the automated system clicked itself off for some reason or another... *(Some additional information can be found here: http://www.exploringthenorth.com/whitefish/whitefish.html)

Meandering through historical buildings we able to appreciate the work and dedication which has gone into this facility, educating visitors and providing a glimpse into maritime life and history. The mannekins can be a little creepy, tourists a little pushy, but all in all its a worth while stop- especially if you get waylayed on account of the weather. Some of the informants though leave a bit to be desired; in this locale of maritime glory we were unable to locate a shipping schedule, the correct channel to contact frieghters to increase their awareness of our presence in the shipping lanes, and our million dollar question: "what direction the wind was blowing on November 10,1975... In the museum you'll find artifacts from boats dozens of decades old, mystical sea gulls plaquered from the cieling, hypnotic music- although Gordon Lightfoot's story will not tell you the wind direction, and more tourismos than you can shake a stick at. Everyone loves maritime history. After marooding through the main room, checking out a sweet film about the raising of the bell off the Fitz, paroosing the boat house; we journied into the the gift/book store where we put to use the Evelyn Woodhead speed reading skills we acquired in college to skim a half dozen books about this majestic 729ft frieghter, confirming speculation that the wind was blowing 290 degrees Northwest up to 90 mph creating waves greater than 30ft!

With that mistery set aside we strode back to camp in awe of the mighty power of this here lake. Luckily our friend NOAA was predicting a wind shift the next day, giving us a window to cross into Canada and experience an entire new set of unknowns. Through intermitent sleep that night the wind seemed to be building in a consisent direction to what it had been the previous day. Come day break the fog was so thick we could barely see the beach, except for the white froth washing upon the shore... Needless to say we did not journey onto the lake that day. During the day the bellow of fog horns doppler effected its way in and out of our presence as frieghters headed towards and from the St. Mary's River system. Late afternoon sun began to break through the fog and our new favourite sensory guessing game began:
Determining direction...

How to play Determining Direction:
Place yourself out of sight of passerbyers and the gigantic frieghters on the lake, once you hear one you have to determine whether it is upbound or downbound... As the ship draws nearer you may leave your post to confirm or deny the guesstimate you created not so long ago...

If you are correct you may revel in the glory that you pretty much are a big dork and can wait for the next ship to come through, if you are incorrect you'd better get back to your post and learn how to listen...

The next day we knew we weren't able to go due to wind direction and since that time the entire experience has melded itself into one conglomeration of sunrise, sunset, wind during the day, wind during the night, fog, people looking for rocks, waves, tall grass, dunes, some cards, a sweet book called 'Lake Effect' and some sleep.

Eventually though the fog would lift, the wind would die down, our minds would embrace what we were about to do, and the boats would move from their multiple day docile rest. The weather permitted the passage from our hidden dune village within the boundaries of near shore land, to beyond five nautical miles from shore past the U.S. slash Canadian Border into the crown lands of Ontario and up the coast for an entirely different shoreline and geologic history...

So stoked, so not scared; to get back 'out-dare' and paddle on. Righteous... Alissa is giving the thumbs up here, just to clarify.


Checking up on the near shore forecast in real time...


Do you operate heavy machinery? Have you ever wanted to LITERALLY work on the beach? Well, if you can find nothing wrong with this picture, then have we found a SWEET job for you...


Have you ever seen a ball up in a tree? Down by the bay, down by the bay...


Paddling down the beach, on Superior in Michigan's Upper Penin su la...

Going the distance... from Grand Marais to White Fish Point

Tis always a surprise when you hop back in the boat from a delayed land experience. Luckily though, we've been blessed with the visitation from folks w/ enough gumption to get out and about, all over the place, allowing us to use them there legs...

Back on the water, along the seemingly endless coast we envision, well actually see, not so much envision, appreciate rather, the variety and well sortment of sands, pebbles and smaller cobbles. The shore climbs from the lake up sand embankments into the low canopied green forest above. Every now and again we see what look like black bears on the beaches, but as we draw nearer we realize that unmistakably is no longer a bear of the imaginaion, rather a rock picker with intensified agate anticipation... On the serious these folks are dedicated, determined and set to find the precious geologic jewel - rock scoops and all. We even encountered some dedicated patron snorkeling near this bay we paddled on into... No lie, we're paddling along, scanning the horizon, nothing, start to hook off to the right behind some well sorted pebbular action and *breathing sound*, we see this tube on the surface of the water and this guy emerges from the abyss... He's talking slow- probably because the water is bloody cold and he's been under there for who knows how long- but manages to muster this beach he's been exploring has grown every year for the previous many moon. Last year alone it advanced 700 feet along to the east. Long shore transport combined with lower lake levels can do a wonder for local deposition of sands...

Paddling on towards the eastern horizon we come to a fine stop along the Blind Sucker River, that is after passing the Two Hearted river and finding the communial cooler empty - bummer! Anyhow at this BSR (blind sucker river) we basked in the late day sun, enjoyed a monstrous meal and Alissa found a potential wolf track. Definiatively K-9 too big for a dog and Coyote; cool stuff for a semi secluded locale.

The next day we set our course towards Whitefish Point the gateway to the lower lakes, or Lake Superior, depending on which way you journey from. We holled up one more night near the Crisp Point Light awaiting a menacing storm of fury hauling across the open water. During this time of reflection, intermitent lightning, and torrential downpour we rejoined the feelings of immense appreciation for our trusty tarp- yee haw white lighting! The storm passed, the wind built and we kicked it into mid range gear with some sweet surfing along the way towards our hopeful crossing location.

As we grew nearer to Whitefish point the presence of the shipping industry came into our preipheral... From beyond five nautical miles from shore to darn near a mile away some 700+ foot behemouth appeared out of some fog bank. Large, quite in charge, it had to be cruising faster than we could cognitively outsmart it that late in the day. With our then current NW wind of 15 knots, four hours of daylight left we opted to not push for the 18+ mile crossing from the United States into the land of the maple leaf flag. Probably a good desicion for that day, it would however set us up to get quite aquainted with the area over the next little while. (slight foreshadowing) Little did we know that terms such as "upbound" and "downbound" would become second nature as boats arrived and departed the area- this would allow for some granduesque guessing games to pass the time... We'll get into that though a little later in the not so distant future...

Blue water, warm sand, long shore transport, what else could you ask for?


Lush fern forestry just above the azure waters of a prevailing paradise...


Making the trek back through these uncrowded streets to the beach...


Water in the forest finding its way to a Superior resting ground, where it each drop will be retained for how long? That's right 191 (or up to 199) years! *(Thank you Ralphie for the information inspiration.)

We haven't seen no bears in this wilderness...

A quick enlightenment to our Iowan family and friends... Although we've been braving the Canadian shoreline for the better part of this here month, we have not seen any bears. However, the inquiry did get me thinking (one of the many things one can do whilest munching on miles during the day) of this sweet song by Lyle Lovett; so kick back and enjoy these words as you think of your favourite ursus americanus:

Bears

Some folks say there ain't no bears in arkansas
Some folks never seen a bear at all
Some folks say that bears go around eating babies raw
Some folks got a bear across the hall

Some folks say that bears go around smelling bad
Others say that a bear is honey sweet
Some folks say this bear's the best I ever had
Some folks got a bear beneath their feet

Some folks drive the bears out of the wilderness
Some to see a bear would pay a fee
Me I just bear up to my bewildered best
And some folks even see the bear in me

So meet a bear and take him out to lunch with you
And even though your friends may stop and stare
Just remember that's a bear there in the bunch with you
And they just don't come no better than a bear

Thanks Lyle!

Knowledge enhancer round four

We all share knowledge better when we retain it... Today's factoid is brought to you by the spirit of retention...

As it goes the Retention time of water in Lake Superior is a whopping 191 years! That means if you filter today you could have been drinking the rain from dern near two centuries ago. WOW!!

Health, Happiness and Laughter your way in this fine month of August... Keep Ralphie proud and pick those berries responsibly...

Knowledge enhancer round three

Here it comes again, the third installment and three after all is the magic number.

Today we'll talk about depth. Depth of knowledge, depth of persistence, depth of water...

Did you know that the Average depth of Lake Superior is 463 feet?

With a Maximum Depth of 1,332 feet? That's down there!!!

Make sure those days are filled with health, happiness and laughter and remember to keep a map and compass handy when you're out picking them berries... (*don't disappoint Ralphie!)