Superior Hiking Trail, Part 2
May 28-30, 2008, 28 miles
The trail from the Split Rock River to Beaver Bay follows five ridges, dropping down to cross creeks between each ridge. The first ridge is the closest to the lake and provides the best eastward views.
A ship far out on the lake. The clouds moved in quickly in the afternoon, but it didn't rain until about 10 pm.
The trail descends to cross Split Rock Creek on this damaged bridge. It seems that this spring's snowmelt brought floods to most of the streams and rivers on the trail, as many bridges were partially washed out.
After Split Rock Creek, the trail follows an old logging railroad for almost a mile before climbing steeply to a flat-topped ridge. Marsh marigolds (above) were blooming in the wet areas along the old railroad bed.
The flat rock on top of the ridge was completely covered in two varieties of fruticose lichen. The ridge was not high enought to provide views, but it did provide for very nice, level walking for at least a mile. When I stopped to take this picture, I heard the ubiquitous northwoods drone and looked up to see...
...at least 100 newly-hatched mosquitoes! So I kept moving and soon left the swarm behind.
I set up camp at Chapin's Ridge campsite, at the north end of the same ridge, at around 5 pm. The mosquitoes weren't terrible, but there were enough for me to choose to read in the shelter of my tent. I brought along The Alexandria Link, a gripping mystery novel that, while not as good as having a friend along, at least gave me something to do in the evenings.
It rained gently all night, and I awoke to a very wet morning, with mist still falling and water dripping from the trees. My tent pad was the only dry spot left.
Just after the campsite, the trail drops off the ridge to cross a beaver-dammed creek on this unstable structure. The guide listed this as my water source for the campsite, but I had plenty of water so opted not to clog my filter with mud.
Recent beaver activity.
Cool winds carried low clouds off Lake Superior. The clouds sometimes dropped to my level but generally stayed about 50-100 feet above me. It felt more like Oregon than Minnesota. After the above beaver dam, the trail ascends Christmas Tree Ridge, another flat-topped rise, then drops back down around another beaver pond.
Some of the beauty of a dew-drippy day.
The last five miles of trail are steeper, with higher ridges, more cliffs, and better views. This was the first promontory of an anorthosite ridge that had lots of ups and downs and rock-walking. Thankfully anorthosite is not particularly slippery when wet. (Anorthosite is a rock composed almost entirely of the mineral anorthite [CaAl2Si2O8]. The rock is thought to have formed when anorthite crytals floated to the top of a magma chamber ~1.1 billion years ago. Anorthosite is erosion-resistant and forms a number of high points along the north shore. It is also perhaps the most common rock on the moon, covering the more reflective, brighter areas.)
More anorthosite as the clouds descended.
After the anorthosite ridge, the trail drops into an amazingly verdant forest and crosses several clear streams, one of which I tapped to refill my water supply.
The trail crosses Fault Line Creek, curves around yet another beaver pond, then begins the steep ascent up Fault Line Ridge, the highest part of my hike at ~1350 feet elevation. The ridge and adjacent valley were formed by an ancient fault, which left a band of cliffs 300-400 feet high. The trail follows along the top of the ridge, climbing and descending to stay on the highest points. The rock here is not anorthosite but a type of gabbro. I stopped for lunch at this overlook, which faced away from the lake but allowed me to see for miles inland.
I was lucky to catch one of the many trains that haul ore from the iron range to a processing plant on the lakeshore at Silver Bay.
One of my goals on this hike was to see a black-throated blue warbler, a beautiful but relatively rare bird that nests in sugar maple forests on the north shore. About 1.5 miles from the end, I entered a maple-rich forest and heard a high, buzzy song that I strongly suspected was my bird. So I started pishing and set off a veritable warbler storm. The black-throated blue came in, its blue failing to shine on this dreary day but still beautiful. A pair of black-throated greens appeared and flew in to within 4 feet of my eyes. They joined an orange-faced blackburnian, a chestnut-sided, a magnolia, a couple of redstarts, and a red-eyed vireo in an excited cloud of ~20 birds that flew in to investigate the errant pisher. I can't say I've ever been surrounded by warblers like that before.
Over the last mile, the trail passes through a diverse old forest of northern white cedar, pine, spruce, and birch, then traverses a long boardwalk over spongy ground before emerging on county road 4.
I met a Lutheran pastor from Wisconsin at the trailhead who was waiting for the same shuttle. He was pleasant enough company for the hour-and-a-half wait. The shuttle was late, and before it arrived a local man stopped and offered us a ride. We were going the same direction as he was, so he shuttled us back south, and I saved paying for the van ride. I zoomed back to St. Paul at 75 mph, arriving in time to eat Japanese food with Michele and Chris. A tasty end to a calorie-burning hike!