Destination: Bryce Breon

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August 15, 2012

It was time for another Wednesday night hike.  This week, Paul chose the Bryce Breon Trail, one that we could access right here from Heston's.  We packed our picnic dinner of Oriental Chicken Salad, chips and beverages, and hit the trail.

The Minnesota Rovers is the group behind the development of the  Border Route Trail.  In the early '70's, they worked with the U.S. Forest Service to gain permission to build this system of trails that connects Gunflint Lake to Lake Superior.  You can find out more information at their website, and about the Border Route Trail group at this link.  The Bryce Breon Trail was named after two members of the group.

To reach the trail, we began on the High Line, and continued up to the South Rim.  As I expected, at this time of the year, the grasses and thimbleberry bushes had grown quite high.  Given all of the rain that we had received, the area could be viewed as either lush or overgrown.  The trail is cleared each year--often twice--but the vegetation always seems to win at some point or other.  A few deadfalls also covered the path, but were easy to scale.

Once atop the South Rim, the travel became easier.  Our feet were getting a bit wet, once again due to the rain.  Where small drainages crossed the trail, we picked our way through on hummocks and high spots.  The first overlook was as spectacular as ever, and Addie wondered about eating our dinner there. Paul, however, had a certain rock in mind, so we forged on.

The sign marking the start of the Bryce Breon was mostly visible, and we turned south.  At that point, I am always reminded of a story that Greg's mom had told me.  One fall, she was out hiking the same trail, and when she turned, just up ahead, she saw three large moose.  They were standing together, totally obscuring the path.  They didn't notice her, and she quietly waited, expecting that they would move along.  But they didn't.  They just stood there.  Finally, realizing that it could be quite awhile, Sharlene turned around to go back. No sense in riling up a gang like that!

It's mostly uphill to the South Rim, and then it levels off.  Once on the Bryce Breon, it begins to descend, as it makes its way to Loon Lake.  In the center portion, there is a magnificent stand of old cedar trees.  To me, it holds the magical feeling of a fairy forest, and my imagination tries to spot little characters among the mossy rocks and tree roots.  A small creek flows through a portion of it, increasing the storybook nature of it.  It was in that stretch that Paul pointed out the rock he had chosen for our picnic.

It was an easy enough climb to get to the top, and it was even cushioned, thanks to the bed of moss and leaves that had fallen there. Though we still had a bit of a ways to go, it was nice to stop for a short rest and a bite to eat.

After dinner, we continued on the trail for a  ways before Greg and Paul decided to head back in the direction that we had come.  Addie and I continued on towards Loon.  The plan was for the guys to go back and get the car, while we girls hiked to the Loon Lake public landing.  Greg would then pick us up for the ride back home.

I'm really glad that we chose to do the trek in this way.  I had not been on the shore of Loon Lake in several years, and I wanted to see for myself the trail conditions.  I learned a lot that night.  Once again, thanks to the rains, I found areas of the trail that were extremely wet.  Some of the grass was as tall as our shoulders, and we just accepted that our feet would be soaked from clambering through these swampy stretches.  As we did so, we were rewarded with excellent views of the lake and the moon rising over it.  We even saw a mama and baby loon pair (my second one this year!) swimming along in the waning light.

There is a lovely campsite on the shore of the lake, not far from the landing.  We took a moment to venture off-trail to see it, and it looks like a most hospitable place to spend a night or two.  Someone must have stayed there in recent times, as it was freshly cleared of all that vegetation that was elsewhere.  Thankfully, they had cleared the rest of the trail as well.  This made our final hike out a whole lot easier.  We reached the landing in the falling shades of twilight, and began our way up the road.  Soon we saw headlights, and Greg was there to provide the four-mile ride back to the lodge.

I am gaining a fresh knowledge base on these trails that we have been covering, and it's both enjoyable and useful.  Now when I recommend hikes to our guests, I can give them current information, and they will be better prepared to anticipate the conditions.  For someone wanting a casual hike, I would recommend beginning at the landing and going in to the campsite.  If you are looking for more adventure, continue as we did, along the shore and up the ridge. (Prepare to get wet feet!) You'll get to see the cedar forest then, too.  Or approach it from the South Rim side, and do as Paul and Greg did if you do not want to encounter the wetter conditions.  Overall, it was a good experience, and another wonderful memory to add to my bank.

Centennial Trail: A Photo Gallery

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July 26, 2012

On a recent evening, we laced up our hiking boots and headed to the Centennial Trail.  This trail was built in 2009 by the Forest Service, to commemorate the 100th anniversary of the Superior National Forest.  Not only does it wind through some lovely woods, but it also showcases some of the history of the area.  When you start out on the hike, be sure to grab a brochure at the trailhead.  It is filled with pictures and information that interpret the various marked points along the way.

We had only hiked the trail previously in winter/early spring.  It was snow-covered every time.  What a delight to see it in full green finery.

Some of us found treasure, of the blue and yummy variety.

Others found interesting rocks to examine.

The scenery was great, cloaked in all that color.  We could even see Gunflint Lake from one vantage point.

Fortunately, we had an excellent guide to point out the way, and a beautiful sunset to close out the trek.

Caught in Someone Else's Adventure

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July 29, 2012

One of the recent trainings for the local volunteer fire department involved the scenario of an injured hiker at Bridal Falls.  Since we are only three miles from the entry to the falls, the department chose to stage from our landing.  They were paged out as though it were a real emergency, and before long, two fire trucks with boats, as well as the ambulance, descended upon us.  For the next two hours, the volunteers worked to bring the hiker down from the falls, carrying him on a backboard along the trail to the shoreline.  Then he was placed into a boat and brought back here.

For some of the members, this was their first visit to Bridal Falls.  All of this summer, the water has been
running in a spectacular shower over the rocks. I've posted a picture or two on my Facebook page, and they Always get the biggest response.  Unfortunately, no one had a camera with them at training---which means that they were all very focused, and working hard on their mock scenario.  

Afterwards, some of the people talked about staging a "mock" rescue again, so that they could have that missed photo opportunity.  They agreed to meet this afternoon at our place, and travel by boat back to the falls.  This time it could be done at a relatively leisurely pace, since it was neither a training nor a real incident.  Two neighboring boats arrived, bearing several firefighters in GTVFD garb, and the remaining folks jumped in to one of our boats.  Just as they pushed off the dock, another member arrived.  He had been caught behind some slower traffic on the trail, and didn't even know that he had just missed his ride.  Since we still had a boat on the beach, I hurried to get it going so that he could catch up to the rest of his mates.

The weather had been building up for something big, but an earlier check of the radar made it look as though it was all going to pass on the Canadian side.  As we sped down the lake to the east, this seemed to bear itself out, as the dark clouds gathered to the north, and the south remained relatively clear.  I should have known better, based on a storm earlier this summer. 

We arrived at the mouth of the creek leading up to the falls, and I walked a short ways up the trail with him. Knowing that I needed to get back, I turned around and left him to hike the remainder of the way to the rest of the crew. As soon as I got back to the shore, I knew that I was too late.  I wasn't going anywhere, judging by the dark blue line I could see out on the main part of the lake.  Little bobs of white told me that the waves were bigger than I wanted to contend with, so I figured it was best to wait until the storm passed.  Soon the wind picked up, and then suddenly one big gust came--wham!-- and it was much colder than the winds before it.  I kept my eyes on the boats, and did my best to pull them up higher and attempt to secure them.

It wasn't long before the full fury of the storm was upon me, complete with pelting rain, high wind and big rolling waves.  One boat wanted to beat up against mine, so I put a cushion between them.  I held it in place with one hand, while continuously bailing my boat with the other.  Glancing around, I could see that if I didn't move my gas tank, it soon would be in trouble, as was possible in our other boat nearby, too.  Honestly, it felt like I needed to be in about three places at once.  In no time, I was soaking wet, and I was grateful that the lake had warmed up so much in recent weeks.  I just kept bailing, keeping an eye on all of the equipment, and wondering how I managed to get myself into this spot.  

Soon I heard voices behind me, and the drenched fire fighters emerged from the woods.  They were a jolly lot, despite the weather conditions, and were ribbing each other as though this was an everyday thing for them to be involved in.  They helped to bail and right the boats, and one craft even got an opportunity to take off.  But then the second wave of the storm hit, and the rest of us retreated for the shore to wait it out again.  We joked and talked while we shivered, discussing the need for matches and fixings for s'mores, and how come we all were not better prepared with rain gear.  I remarked that at least we all were wash and wear, and obviously no worse for the wear. When we finally deemed it safe to go, we jumped in and shoved off.

Along the way, we picked up some of our canoeists, who had just started back from an otherwise perfect trek to Bridal Falls. They had picnicked at the falls, and were enjoying picking raspberries and thimbleberries on the trail back down, when they first heard the thunder.  I had seen them on my way east initially, and had made a mental note to check in on them when I was returning.  Greg got there first, and picked up two of the hardy foursome.  We came in as the second boat, and picked up the remaining pair, and then we all made our way back to Heston's.

Reflecting on it later in the day, and contemplating why my work for the afternoon was still not done, I decided that it's actually a good thing to get caught up in someone else's adventure.  One never knows what serendipity and excitement lies ahead, and who wants to miss out on that?

No Shortage of Water Here

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Wednesday, July 25, 2012 at 2:18PM

   

The rain came again last night. Before going to bed, I had read a new alert posted for a hydrologic outlook. Two to four inches of rain were predicted, and with that could come flash flooding.  We've been so fortunate this year, with rain that falls in big drops, but does not overwhelm us the way it has in communities to the south.

Sometime in the night, I heard it begin, and it came steadily.  No thunderstorms accompanied this round, and so it was a welcome and comforting sound to hear the drumming of drops on our metal roof.  It easily lulled me back to sleep, and later invited me to stay put under the covers for just a few more minutes.  My gardens hadn't been watered in a few days, so I was grateful to mentally cross that task off of my list.

I was somewhat surprised to learn that we had received a fresh three inches.  It hadn't seemed to be raining that hard, but I guess I slept through most of it.  This morning, I went to the beach to get a boat ready, and lo and behold, all the excess water from the lowlands was draining in its usual places, carving deep gullies in the sand. The boat was on a ramp, so I thought that I could just straddle the ramp and push it off. No luck, as there was a large build-up of sand and gravel at the stern, blocking me from sliding the boat into the water.  Watershoes were an excellent invention, because they allowed me to just get right into the lake, and with a little help, push and pull the boat off the ramp.  Soon the fishermen were on their way, and I had only briefly dipped my toes into the water.  The lake is feeling nice and warm, by the way.

We hear that the trout are biting in North Lake, and the small mouth bass are quite eager in Little Gunflint. No doubt our continued high waters are helping the fishing this year, as the fish find places to feed that are normally inaccessible at this point in July.  While it may not be a good time to be a fish in the waters around here, it's always a good time to be in the woods.