I don’t think any of us really thought much about this trip or did much planning very far in advance. At least to Cyndi and I, it was just a trip to take late in the summer. We intended to take it more seriously as it got closer. All of us except Clayton that is. He must be working hard to make this trip happen. He is renting five kayaks, reserving campsites for us all and packing for himself too. If not for Clayton, this trip would still be on the wish list. We owe him a lot. At least a couple of checks. So, not until the weekend before we plan to leave, that is just seven days before our flight, did Cyndi and I start making piles of gear. The piles of food, cooking gear, sleeping gear and boating gear grew and grew. I was starting to wonder if we could get all that stuff on a flight. Only once did I do a kayak camping trip where I flew to the destination and rented the boats, ok maybe there were two occasions. On one we met friends who drove and took some of our gear, and on the other one we had it cushy by having a base camp catamaran available so that we did not have to take as much. But I think we have done well. We have everything packed into four large duffle bags, one paddle bag and one small back pack. Pretty good. Hopefully it will all be accepted onto the plane. Two days until we find out. Dave – Aug 30, 2007
6:55 a.m. – “Who knew paddles were a blunt object?” That is what keeps going through my head. After a very hectic trip through the airport check in, though security and then repeat we are finally on the plane. $80 later and without our paddles, but on the plane. Now we just have to cross our fingers that our paddles will arrive with us and arrive in one, or two actually, pieces. It turns out that despite what everyone has told us you cannot carry paddles onto the plane anymore. They are considered “blunt objects” and as such must be checked. We found this out the hard way. Cyndi – Sept 1, 2007
Just to make the paddle incident more absurd, there is a lady a few seats in front of us who is waving around a pair of eight inch crochet needles, and a guy next to me who got on to the plane with a full bottle of soda. I guess that Nelson and I just look like vicious killers eager to use our blunt wooden Greenland Paddles on the flight attendants! Dave - Sept 1, 2007
First my big duffle bag weighed in at 55 lbs. Five pounds over the limit. Sigh. Ok. I pulled out a packed dry bag and checked it in separately. With boarding passes in hand we’re off to security. As carry on items I have a backpack and my newly crafted 2 piece Greenland paddle in its neoprene case. We get through the metal detector and wait to pick up our scanned items. The security guy picks up our paddles (Dave & Cyndi were also bringing their paddles as carry on items) and informs us that they could be used as lethal weapons, similar to a baseball bat. Oh crap. We were given a few options, with only one that made sense for getting the paddles to Duluth: check them in. Dave volunteered to exit to the check in counter and get the paddles checked in. Cyndi and I wait for him. And wait. I make a trip to the men’s room and when I come out Cyndi is talking on her cell phone to Dave. What I remember is Cyndi saying “No... No, I’m coming.”, and off she went. So now I wait for both of them. Meanwhile my body sends me back to the men’s room. I come out and there’s no sign of Dave or Cyndi. I go to the gate to make sure that they’re not there. No, not there. Wait some more. Hmm…now its 10 minutes before departure. Better check my phone. As I pull it out it starts to ring. It’s Cyndi, “Nelson get on the plane. We’re on the plane.” I respond that I am on my way. So I take my seat on the plane, but sleep doesn’t come. Nelson - Sept 1, 2007
Like most Minnesotans, I was eager to interface with our all knowing associates from the East Coast. I thought it would take some time to learn something really important. However, the first night Yvonne relieved me of a long standing ignorance of Lake Superior. It was the “Bathtub Effect”. It is like a tide, but more interesting. I am not able to comprehend this concept, so it is best to ask Yvonne directly Clayton – Sept 1, 2007
“I don’t think that anyone really thought through this trip!” Well some of us thought about this trip for years. Raised in Minnesota, I wanted to paddle the Apostles ever since I started paddling some six years ago. So much so, in fact, that I came out over Labor Day of 2005 and joined a group of Twin Cities paddlers – SKOAC: Sea Kayaking and Outdoor Adventure Club, on a weekend trip to the Apostles. The people were great – they arranged for me to rent a boat and two guys drove me up for the weekend. But the weather was stormy and we just made it over to Sand Island and set up camp before a terrific downpour hit. The rest of the group couldn’t make it over so they slept in their cars and straggled across to the island in the morning. I circumnavigated Sand with my buddies, paddling deep into the caves under the natural bridges carved out from the sandstone island by the pounding waves of Lake Superior. I desperately wanted to paddle over to Oak and especially Devil’s Island where the caves are much grander but the group was in party mode so we cooked and ate and drank and laughed. I departed happy to have seen the Apostles but knowing I had to come back and paddle to the outer islands some day. That day materialized when Clayton White, a retired paddler from Grand Marais, appeared at Jack’s Boathouse in Georgetown in the spring of 2006. He’d come to help out his brother but quickly joined in out local kayaking group. We would talk a lot about paddling in the Apostles, Isle Royale and the treacherous beautiful icy cold Lake Superior. Clayton had paddled 950+ miles around Lake Superior – 24 days at over 38 miles per day. Paddling in the Apostles can be dangerous and I knew the only way I could go would be with an experienced friend or guide. By spring 2007, the stars were aligning and Clayton was ready to take a group of us to the Apostles over Labor Day. Cyndi & Nelson signed on immediately and Dave joined in definitively over the summer. Clayton arranged to rent boats, get permits and pick us up upon arrival in Duluth. Cyndi orchestrated meal planning and gear shares. We had a lot of fun planning and contemplating a paddle we’d wanted to do for years. Come Labor Day weekend I had finished a four month job at the State Department and had flown to Minneapolis to visit family and friends. Cyndi, Nelson and Dave flew into Duluth on Sept 1. I came up from Minneapolis by bus. I’d packed carefully and sparely, not sure how much stuff would fit into Clayton’s Romany, which he was lending me for the trip. I brought my hammock, a book on Italy, lots of mosquito repellant and some fun food – chocolate cigars, chili covered mango, scotch in a water bottle. The bus ride on Jefferson Lines from the University of Minnesota to Duluth started out peacefully enough. I had a seat to myself, and engrossed in my book, barely noticed as different people got on the bus at various stops in St. Paul and along Highway 35. Eventually however, I noticed the noisy boisterous crowd of men in the back of the bus and the tattooed and pierced foursome up near me. It reminded me of a bus trip I made from Sacramento, CA to Minneapolis with my son Kevin, than about 9. The bus was full of derelicts and lost souls- and us. One man, a convicted felon who was being deported from California, I think he said, taught Kevin how to make a pipe bomb and to put sugar in the gas tank of the “bad guys.” “How could you bring me on a trip like this?” Kevin wailed to me. Indeed, how could i? Anyway here I was, almost 18 years later, in another public bus with a colorful cast of characters. Halfway to Duluth, a big sloppy guy with elasticized pants dragging 6” below his waist ordered me to move my backpack from the empty aisle seat. When I didn’t move fast enough, he flung it into my lap and plopped himself into the seat, and half of mine. Apparently he wanted the tattooed girl with spiky hair in the seat across from the aisle to call a friend of his on her cell phone. …to be continued. Yvonne – Sept 1, 2007 8:50
p.m. - “Navigation by placemat.” But today was launch day and we left Duluth for Little Sand Bay where we would pick up the permits and launch. We got to the visitor’s center around 11:30 a.m. and sure enough there was the perfect nautical chart. A perfectly laminated placemat chart of the islands complete with compass rose. They had four left and we cleaned them out! We unloaded the boats and proceeded to take piles of gear out of the trailer. Would all of this really fit? We moved everything down to the beach and started packing. Shoes, tent stakes and poles go behind the skeg box. Water and wine in front of the feet. Clothes up front. Food in the day hatch. Surprisingly we got it all to fit, even in the very low volume Chatham 16. We launched at 12:30 into light winds and headed East. Our destination was campsite 1 on Oak Island about 10 miles away. They forecast was for increasing winds from the East and thunder storms in the afternoon. We paddled past our first sea caves and natural arches and took turns snapping photos. Then we headed to Raspberry Island into a stiff head wind. After rounding the corner we arrived at a nice protected sand spit where we pulled the boats up for lunch. The sky to our North was darkening and a storm looked imminent so we made quick work of lunch and launched for Oak, happy to out run the storm. The water and waves built into a “messy slop” as Yvonne called it. I found myself smiling and thinking “what fun”. Clearly there is something wrong with us! We hit the Northern tip of Oak in about 40 minutes and then headed down the East side to our campsite. Rain still looked imminent so we made camp quickly and strung the tarp over the picnic table. While a small shower passed we had cocktail hour. The rain subsided and it was dinner time. Dave and I were on cooking duty so we sent everyone else off for a hike while we prepared the tortellini, veggies and appetizers. Dessert was chocolate and cookies which Clayton had to rescue from the recesses of Yvonne’s boat while we all watched the lightning show over Devil’s Island. Shortly after dinner the storm enveloped us and we retreated to the tents. Lightening and thunder cracked all around. Cyndi – Sept 3, 2007
We spend so much time teaching people to pack boats, when what we really need to do is teach them to unpack!! -- After finding Yvonne’s missing cookies and crackers. Now if only we could find the Scotch! Clayton – Sept 3, 2007 Oak
Island When she didn’t more fast enough, he flailed his arm across my chest and demanded to know if I had a cell phone. I wouldn’t answer. His arm was a stump with no hand and his other arm ended in a silver hook. Well, suffice it to say, it was a long 20 minutes with him arguing with the girl over the phone calls he wanted to make, him sputtering curse words and racial epithets and occasionally smashing me in the chest to which I clutched my backpack. I though of urging the person sitting in front of me to pass the word up the buss to the driver that we needed to deal with this guy but every once in a while he would glower drunkenly at me and I didn’t want to set him off. Eventually his friends in the back of the bus persuaded him to move back. By this time his pants had slipped down another few inches. Fortunately, he was wearing underwear. Shortly afterwards the bus driver pulled over to the side of the rode and stomped to the rear of the bus. He ordered the group to behave or he would throw them off the bus. When we got to the Duluth bus station, two highway patrol cars and four police were there to meet us. Happily, so where Nelson, Dave, Cyndi and Clayton. In fact, as the police cars flashed their lights alongside the bus, I looked anxiously in the parking lot for some kayaks or familiar faces. Seeing none, it flashed through my mind to go back home and avoid further drama. Fortunately my buddies were there and once I got set up in the campsite and we’d had a nice walk through the Duluth Harbor and some margaritas, the bus ride was forgotten. Yvonne – Sept 4, 2007
The original plan had been to paddle to Devil’s Island on Tuesday but the weather gods were against us. Monday night a huge storm hit us with high winds from the North with rain, thunder and lightening. Tuesday morning dawned overcast, drizzly and windy. Not the day for a 7 mile crossing to Devil’s so we opted to circumnavigate Oak Island. We launched from camp into 2 foot waves which quickly subsided as we got around the lee of the island. In a small cove it was so still that Dave decided to break out the water pump to re-supply our stock. Nelson at one point commented that it didn’t even seem like the same weather. After lunch down on the sand spit we rounded the south corner of Oak and were greeted by red sandstone formations. To Nelson, Dave, Yvonne and I they were awesome. Clayton, who has been here several times before, didn’t seem impressed. We’d seen several bald eagles throughout the paddle and anyone who knows me knows that made my day. There were several mature and immature balds. The color on the baby balds was impressive. At one pint Clayton and I took off ahead of the group and as we rounded a corner no fewer than 5 balds looked down on us from the tree tops. It was spectacular! Those eagles accompanied us as we rounded the tip of Oak and paddled into the Northeast wind. The waves built back up into the 1 to 2 foot range and smacked us in the beams. It wasn’t bad though and anytime we grew tired of thinking about the waves another bald eagle would soar above us from the tree tops. It wasn’t long before the “Hole in the Wall” arch came into view with our campsite just beyond it. Cyndi – Sept 5, 2007 Well, you can always expect some days to be better than others. Yesterday certainly seemed to be one of those better days. Originally yesterday was to be our day to paddle to outer Island, but our schedule was modified by bad weather. Specifically, Tuesday we had planned to paddle to Devil’s Island. Bad weather caused us to delay the open water crossing until Wednesday. The only sticking point was that we didn’t have the campsite reserved for another night. The plan that developed was to paddle to Devil’s and try to contact the rangers to see if wee could get the campsite for another night. The weather on Wednesday started out calm, but overcast with some areas of fog. We previously had been able to see Devil’s Island from our campsite, some 7 miles away, but this morning all we could see was fog in the direction of Devil’s. So we charted a direction of due North and set off. We maintained good speed but for a long time we paddled towards nothingness. The sun came out but still nothing appeared before us. Then we entered the heavy fog bank. Paddling in fog gives me an eerie feeling. The water in each direction soon disappeared into a heavy grayness. Very disorientating. Just trust your compass and keep paddling while making sure that you don’t lose sight of your paddling partners. And just keep paddling towards nothing. Finally we got a glimpse of the island – directly ahead of us. Yea! The fog then took the island away again and we didn’t see it for another half hour or so when it appeared about 100 feet ahead of us. What a relief! Clayton’s plan was to circle around the island in a clockwise fashion. Soon we had spectacular red cliffs on our right and colorful boulders and ledges underneath us. Some of the fog stayed with us, but the sun would occasionally peak out at us. We started coming upon some caves and took every opportunity to paddle into and through them. One was big enough for all of us to congregate inside, each coming in through a different entrance! The water seemed to be getting bouncier as we made our way around the island. This made it a little more challenging to enter, pass through and exit some of the later caves. Eventually it became too rough to enter anymore caves. A cave entrance that appeared calm could turn into a crashing mess of white water converging from several sides. By now the sun was mostly burning through the fog and I think that we were all feeling great to be paddling in such a beautiful spot. We stopped for lunch and reveled in finally making our way to and around Devil’s Island. Ext issue – we didn’t have our current campsite reserved for the coming evening. Clayton had hoped to be able to reach the rangers during the excursion to Devil’s. He did from the lighthouse there, but the bad news was that we would have to move. He made a reservation for us for 2 nights at campsite #3 on Oak. Oakie – doakie! That means that we have to rush back to our campsite, break it down, pack up and load the boats and paddle to the new campsite, unpack the boats and set up camp. And apparently we were supposed to vacate our current campsite by 3:00 p.m. Oofta!(sp ?) Clayton offered to race ahead back to the campsite and we would follow as best we could. We made good time back at about 4 mph, but Clayton arrived about a half hour before us and informed the new arrives that we would soon all be there to start packing up and be gone. When we arrived we broke camp and packed the boats within an hour! That was fast! We started setting up camp in about another hour and a half. What a day! Open water paddling, heavy fog, numerous caves to explore, gorgeous location and scenery and water, crashing waves, emerging sunshine, a rush back to camp, break camp, new campsite, packing boats, unpacking boats, a total of over 21 miles (a personal high). At this point everyone else took a swim in the frigid water. Lots of shrieking, laughing and some splashing to invigorate some tired bodies. And after all this Dave & Cyndi cooked up a feast of couscous and Indian fare. Excellent. I was famished and the food was truly excellent. The temperature was feeling warm so I ended the day with taking my turn in the chilly water. Truly refreshing! What a perfect way to end a hectic, but great day! Nelson – Sept 6, 2007
Oak Island Camp 3. Today we opted for an easy day but still had some business to attend to. First we decided that we’d like to move camp to Sand Island on Friday if possible so that meant another run for Clayton to the ranger station, this time on Raspberry Island. Nelson, Dave, Yvonne and I opted for an easy day paddle down to Hermit Island. Hermit is currently closed for camping due to major bear activity so we hoped to see one. After making the 2.5 mile crossing we landed on a small beach and immediately saw signs of bear – scat! And lots of it. We had “first lunch” there and then proceeded to circumnavigate the island. Hermit used to have a brownstone quarry and we were looking for that. We never found it but again found great rock formations, caves and arches all along the island. We played in the caves and through the arches before settling down to find a place for “second lunch.” Finally I spotted a great spot, we pulled up and went in separate directions to find the “facilities.” On his way Dave spotted the second bear evidence, nice big fresh bear tracks and a little higher up the beach tracks from a bear cub. Heading back to Oak we were greeted by the resident bad eagles. I spotted a nest in the trees as three eagles soared above. We returned to camp in time for a swim and dinner – Yvonne’s orzo and squash. A listen to the weather radio is threatening thunder and lightening tonight with strong Southerly winds. The winds are expected ti wear to the NE tomorrow late morning and build to 30 knots. We’ll see if we make it to Sand. Now we’re battening down the hatches so to speak and packing up all we can for a super early morning departure. We’ll see what happens. You know what they say about the best laid plans. Cyndi – Sept 6, 2007
“Ufda.” This has been a great trip – learning that kayaking and pleasure are not mutually exclusive. Yesterday I paddled to Raspberry Island and contacted the Park Ranger about changing campsites. Everyone else circumnavigated Hermit Island. It was a very warm day and everyone took a plunge in the Lake. This morning it was raining with West wind 20+mph – taking the day OFF – all walked to group campsite and will do some hiking…(to be continued) Clayton – Sept 7, 2007
So far this trip has had a bit of everything – spectacular caves and cliffs and arches, bald eagles and bear paws, heavy seas and glass, pea-soup fog obliterating everything, chilly nights and sunny days, 180 degrees of lightening, torrential rain, starry skies, “working” paddles to move all our stuff and “play” paddles to enjoy the sun, cool transparent waters, exploring different islands, and wonderful companionship. Before leaving we worked out a good system to trade of cooking dinners among the four of us – Clayton would be our dinner guest. Cyndi and Dave started off on a high note, making tortellini and a broccoli zucchini stir fry, with carrots and hummus as an appetizer and chocolate wafers for dessert. Nelson followed with a delicious lentil, bulgur wheat, zucchini dish wonderfully seasoned with bay, thyme and other spices. He also served fresh snap peas with lemon and some intense dark chocolate for dessert. Wednesday was supposed to be my day but with the big trip to Devil’s and the need to move camp later in the afternoon, Cyndi and Dave made their quick-cooking couscous with packets of spicy eggplant, chick peas, lentils, read and black beans for an Indian feast. Nelson provided the organic couscous and I chipped in some couscous with sun dried tomato, spinach and basil so it was a group affair. Also with most of our meals one person would put on an artisan bread, another olives, others fresh peas or carrots, and always a variety of chocolates. Thursday, after a great paddle around Hermit Island and a swim in the bracing water, it was my turn. I hacked away at buttermilk squash that I’d hauled from D.C. and cooked it up, then steamed broccoli spears, then boiled up a ton or orzo, and then made a parmesan cream alfredo sauce. After cooking everything separately, and al dente, I combined it in one pot and served it with some more snap peas, a tabouli salad Clayon contributed some leftover bread and finally our chocolate of the day – dark chocolate covered cherries and coconut white chocolate. Since our practice was that whoever cooked did not have to wash dishes, my companions got hit with every single pot dirty from cooking – all for a one-pot squash-orzo-broccoli meal. To these great meals, Dave would occasionally whip up fresh cappuccinos generally when we got in from a paddle and dip in the frigid water. We’d ass some chocolate tea cookies and marvel at how refined and enjoyable kayak camping can be. Lunch was another story. Lunch was mainly peanut butter, it seemed with apples, pits and a power bar or gorp. I brought a jar of Skippy which went with us on most trips and which Dave in particular would make into a two course affair. He would smack the closed jar on the top so it looked like it was always full and indeed it did seem to feed people forever. By dinnertime I couldn’t give away dry-roasted peanuts as a pre-dinner snack – we’d all O.D.’d on peanut butter. We brought two bags of surprisingly good red wine which goes down very well with our gourmet meals and almost made it through the week in the islands. I had packed a small water bottle of Scotch whiskey, but somehow it didn’t make it into the boat. It either got left behind in my backpack or on the beach. Somehow that missing Scotch became very desirable, especially when we got back on cool afternoons, and we plotted all week how to get some. Dave was sure I had it somewhere or that it was stuck behind my skeg box. We first hinted and then suggested openly that Clayton might want to paddle into Bayfield or Sand Bay on the mainland to pick up some Scotch. Somehow we survived without it. Clayton, who paddled 28 days around Lake Superior with an unreplenished store of food and seemed to be of the add-water variety of a cook, appeared mystified by all this cooking – the appetizers before dinner, pre-soaked lentils over the fire, 8-pot squash orzo, cappuccinos dusted with cinnamon in the afternoon. He fretted he would be spoiled for any future trips. Which of course he will be. Besides paddling to eat, we had lots to entertain ourselves with. Dave was always wandering off, looking for the best lake water to collect and filter. He sometimes carried float bags or Nelson’s portable bucket full of water for long distances because he had found the perfect water in some bay or on some wave. Filtering water was quite a production – he had a system that squawked like a pair of ducks in a fight to the death and produced a slow trickle of water. We finally turned to Clayton’s filtration system which pushed through water so rapidly that we wondered if it actually had the filter attached. Dave is just waiting for all of us who used Clayton’s water to get giardia. Dave also busied himself picking up rocks. He decorated our prows with rocks and made artsy zen-like table centerpieces with varying kinds and sizes of granite. The rocks actually were gorgeous, wave-polished smooth, black, white, mottled, greenish, and deep red. We had a bit of a rock skipping contest on Hermit. I think Nelson won but it was hard to tell because Dave had a multiple rock skipping technique that produced up to a dozen splashes. Nelson was obviously taken with the majesty and challenge of the sea caves. He was the first one in the cave on Oak, or was it Raspberry? And we could see that he would have to go into every cave, navigate through every arch and check out every grotto. Which he did, threading his Chatham though curved openings and columns and length arcades, with the waves gushing in and smacking wildly against the rock face, spewing out through blow-holes in the rock with hooting or singing sounds. Great stuff. Nelson also managed the merganser population. The lake was full of them which was fun for a while, especially when we saw some with babies, but then they got boring and in the way when we were looking hard for a loon. Occasionally Nelson had to sprint into a bunch of them to clear the way for the rest of us. It surprised me a little bit to see him do that, but it worked well enough. Except that they couldn’t fly so they just squawked and fluttered and skipped annoyingly. At least we had lots of bald eagles to look at, and one downy woodpecker and a few black-headed chickadees- well, at least I know it was a downy headed woodpecker, but I don’t really know if the others were chickadees. Barry would know. Finally, Nelson was responsible for getting us up in the morning. Actually, he was only responsible for getting us up one morning – this morning, which was the morning we considered making an early dash for Sand Island despite two days of talk of storms and small craft warnings. Sure enough, although last night was partly clear and we could actually see stars and constellations, maybe even Orion or Cassiopeia, though I don’t really know since there we some strategically placed clouds near what could have been Orion’s belt – Ralph would know. Despite the pleasant evening, the storms hit hard through the night and the rain and wind and waves hitting on the beach were deafening. No one could sleep until about 5:30 in the morning and then at 6:00 a.m. Nelson woke us all up over the din of the storm. We quickly got dressed, ran down to the beach and decided to go back to sleep. You could hear Nelson cheering as he zipped up his tent. Yvonne – Sept 7, 2007
“Wind
bound.” The plan was an early morning launch to head to Sand
to avoid the worst of the wind. The best laid plans… So Nelson
rallied us at 6:00 a.m. and we awoke to howling winds and surf on
the beach. It was a quick unanimous decision to stay put. So how do
you pass a wind bound day?
Cyndi
– Sept 7, 2007
Our return adventure begins. While sitting in the airport, I wanted to recap some of the times I remembered from the week. First of all, this may be the only paddling trip without any memorable biting insects. No ticks, nearly no mosquitoes, no black flies. I only recall mention of 3 tiny mosquito bites. That is always a good thing to say about a backcountry kayak adventure. We saw little signs of wildlife on this trip. I expected to see lots of signs of fish in Lake Superior. I saw nothing. Not even a dead fish on the shores. Nelson says he saw a couple of tiny fish along the shore, nothing more. We did see birds- mergansers or ducks that run from you and do not fly, bald eagles, Canadian geese on holiday, a kingfisher or two, seagulls, and crows. We also saw bear tracks and scat, squirrels and a bat who broke his wing just outside our camp. I think we were all secretly hoping to see a bear or a moose or a sturgeon or a stray blue whale making a short cut through the lakes on his way to the Pacific. We cannot forget the “fish farts” incident. This could have been signs of fish life in the lake. On two separate days Nelson and I noticed some odd sensation as we dragged our hands through the water. The second time we noticed it we managed to catch single ones in our palms. They were miniscule perfectly clear globes. When Clayton pressed down on one it disappeared. We immediately theorized that these were “fish farts”, evidence of fish. Later when visiting the Duluth aquarium we asked a professional. She said it was probably undeveloped fish eggs (maybe unfertilized). Not as exciting of a theory, but more plausible. Although we did not see a large variety of the Apostle Islands, what we saw was pretty cool. We officially visited Oak Island, Devil’s Island, Hermit Island, and Raspberry Island for a quick break. The speedily changing weather of the lake rearranged our plans multiple times, sending Clayton (our obligated local guide) off on a paddling excursion twice to find a phone where he could change our campsite reservations. I must say that the lake weather was impressive in its ability to build up to a small craft warning situation with rain and up to 30 knot winds and then calm back down again to still water and sunshine. All this in six to twelve hours. The first blast of lake weather happened on our second night on Oak Island. It scared Clayton into not wanting us to venture out to Outer Island and instead to spend the third night on Oak Island. This messed up the plans for the fourth night since we had to choose between running out to Outer Island, a 15 mile paddle, or go see Devil’s Island, a 13 mile paddle in a different direction. We could not manage to do both, so Clayton opted to stay on Oak and take us to Devil’s. Devil’s was one of the coolest days of the adventure. For the second time, the wind died completely overnight and the lake fog got so think, it made the old saying of “Thick as pea soup” pretty meaningful (since we made pea soup a couple of nights before it was familiar). The first time the fog descended, by the way, was when we were flying into Duluth. It delayed our flight a couple of hours. Anyway, we paddled off into the fog, due North, towards Devil’s Island. We left really early so that we could get back in time to defend our campsite from anyone who may be moving in under the next day’s reservation. Our crossing to Devil’s was about seven and a half miles. It took just about two hours. Then we stopped just 400 feet from where we thought the Island’s boathouse should be. Nothing could be seen except ourselves and the swells receding off into the fog. We could hear what sounded like waves hitting the island shore somewhere off to our right. Cyndi and Clayton came up with conflicting bearings as to where to go next. Cyndi said her GPS pointed to the right towards the boathouse. Clayton wanted to continue on straight. AS we started to split into two factions, Nelson and I siding with Cyndi since we could still hear the breaking waves and Yvonne siding with Clayton, the fog started to lift and the boathouse appeared just 100 yards to our right. Whoo Hoo! We made it. To their credits, both Cyndi and Clayton were right. What Clayton did not tell the rest of us was that he decided to lead us around the island without stopping at the boathouse after all. We mutinied and stopped for a break anyway. Rested and refreshed, we took off around Devil’s Island. The infamous “sea caves” were on the far side. Why they call them “sea caves” along the Apostle Island “Lakeshore” area, I cannot say, but they were cool. We frolicked among the caves, sometimes in thick fog, sometimes in sunlight. Nothing in words can give this scenery justice. You have to see some of the pictures to understand. Finally we circled the island, back to the boathouse and took a snack break while Clayton jogged back across the island to the lighthouse to use the phone there (cell phone reception is non-existent on the islands). I used Yvonne’s paddle float to scoop some lake water away from the shore and pumped for more drinking water while we waited for Clayton. Yet another good use for a paddle float. When Clayton returned, we all learned that our site was reserved by others for that night and we needed to be out by 3:00 p.m. It was 1:30 p.m. when we heard this. The plan was to send Clayton speeding back to our site to pacify the new comers until our return. We followed his silhouette for two hours until he disappeared into the shoreline of Oak Island. When we got back at 3:15 p/m/ we frantically packed into our kayaks and moved around to the other side of Oak Island to a site Clayton hastily reserved for us for the next two nights. The second major lake storm came after we had been on the second Oak Island campsite for two days (our fourth day out). Clayton had again run off to a phone, this time at the Raspberry Island lighthouse, while the rest of us circumnavigated Hermit Island. Upon our return at 3:00-ish, we were greeted with the news of an oncoming storm and a choice. We could pack up right away and travel to Sand Island or stay over the next complete day in the same spot, sine the wind would be fierce the following day. None of us but Clayton believed this was possible, since the wind was calm, the water flat and the skies clear. In fact I believe it was that night that Cyndi and I looked at the stars and the Milky Way in the clear night sky. Again to give justice to the Lake Superior weather, the conditions were placid until sometime after 3:00 a.m., then the wind started to blow. By the time that Nelson started singing to wake everyone up for an early packing session; the winds must have been up to 30 knots. We were going nowhere. Instead we went back to sleep for another 3 hours. I struggled to make coffee when we woke again, using both the tent and the MSR wind shield and even a Crazy Creek chair for good measure. Since we were wind bound for the day and the campsite was getting the full force of the wind, Cyndi and I talked everyone into walking the one quarter mile to the group campsite at the top of the hill for a breakfast cookout. I don’t know what everyone else expected to eat, but I broke out the “Back packer’s Pantry Huevos Rancheros” we had stowed away as a luxury food item and started cooking. They turned out to be one of the best powdered meals that I have had as of yet. They will be used again. Our bellied full and paddling impossible, we set off for a 7+ mile hike roundtrip from our Oak Island campsite up to the lookout on the Northern end of the island. Dave – Sept 9, 2007
A general observation. I think perhaps that Dave and I have become a little set in our ways as kayakers. On our trips we paddle with a purpose, move destinations and move camp most every day. We decide when, where, how fast and how much to paddle. Having someone else plan and make the choices for locations and places to paddle, made this trip different and a little unsettling. It’s not that we disagreed with any of the choices made on this trip. It was just that I didn’t feel particularly included in the discussion making process. It didn’t feel like one of “our” trips and I guess I should have expected that since it was a “group” trip after all. Good food is a pain. We tried to coordinate the food, and dinner seemed to work well, but breakfast and lunch didn’t seem so great. Dave and I were going to buy oatmeal and bread in Duluth but everyone assured us they had enough to share. On the trip however it never materialized. So it was power bar breakfast and lunch for me. I may have actually overloaded on them for the first time. Gear…I’m whittling my necessities list: I don’t need the second insulmat, except in the coldest of weather. One headlamp was more than enough light. My dry bay stuffed with a puffy jacket and put inside of a buff made an ideal pillow. Food…I really missed bread on this trip. Having more pita would have been good. The whole-wheat tortillas lasted for 5 days easily, and were a good treat. I do like oatmeal for breakfast. Clothing…The hydro skin shirt worked great. It would be nice ti find some neoprene or hydro skin pants. In general I don’t think I like flying to a paddling destination. First, I missed my boat. The rental Necky’s we had were pretty good boats but even they were uncomfortable after a few hours of paddling. Packing all of our camping gear and paddling gear for air travel was also rough and made us feel very loaded down. If one bag had not arrived the entire trip could have been thrown off. Cyndi – Sept 9, 2007
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Clayton
White from Grand Marais, MN
