Cave
Sail Rock
Early Morning Paddlers
Close Up of Waterline in Above Photo
Grand Portal Pile Up
Mini-Me Portals
Cave
Chapel Rock
Blue Corpuscles of Spring Pack Ice (Chapel Rock at Right)
July 9, 2005 - Out of work midnight Friday; 12:30 am - home; 12:45 - check the Lake Superior nearshore forecast on the internet; 1:00 - throw both the kayaking gear and backpacking gear in the car; 1:30 - load the kayak; 1:45 - hit US131 northbound.
The abandoned interstates are the Devil's peace as I drown creeping slumber with coffee and speed thro' the featureless morning. The Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore office in Munising opens at 8:00 am. I raggle into town at 7:30 and force down two greasy, tasteless breakfast croissants. The human tide subsides after the Independence Day holiday; the staff say they have campsite openings available in the middle of the park near Little Beaver but nothing nearer. I'm judging distance and time based on hiking the lakeshore trail from Miner's Castle to Chapel Rock, but that was in the snow. Not being at my best, I underestimate my ability and make a poor decision to forgo camping overnight. The words "day paddle" deflate the room as the rangers turn back to their paperwork. There are no fees for day access and parking at Miner's Beach.
The empty shore at Miner's Beach slips behind at 9:00 am. Grand Island across the sunny water is dim with light haze. A small storm is visible toward Marquette and punctuates the quiet morning with an occasional rumble of thunder. It is something to be mindful of, but the forecast has it tracking thro' Big Bay. I take full advantage of the lack of waves to view the dripping caves, fragile sandstone cliffs, and paddle and pull thro' the narrowest of rock garden passages. Stones released from veins of conglomerate rock pile up in the back of caves. Years of constant grinding smoothen them into droplets of quartz and striped sedimentary eggs. Small bright yellow gnats cling to the cave walls and ceilings. The lack of wind makes big biting flies a tag along nuisance. My shorty wetsuit leaves streaks of blood visible from their few successful attacks on my arms while on the water and on my legs while on shore.
The wake from the tour boat provides a break from the calm when she finally begins her runs along the cliff. All the way to Grand Portal Point and only two other kayakers sighted, but many more late starters will eventually splash in. I'm surprised to see the Grand Portal impassibly filled with debris from a roof collapse. When I saw it back in the spring from the lakeshore trail I thought it was merely filled with shore ice. The ceiling fell in 1999. This is a stark reminder of the ever changing character of the fragile cliffs. [Ref.]
The weekend after Easter 2005 I hiked from Miner's Castle to Chapel Rock along the partially snow-covered lakeshore trail for an overnight camp out. Three days earlier the park service had finally plowed the last four miles of road to Miner's Castle. During the winter they do not plow the road and it lies encased under 3-6 feet of snow. The shore ice below the cliffs was covered with fallen debris, mostly dark sand and stones, loosened by the freeze/thaw cycle and rush of spring runoff. Watching the cliff I saw dollops of dirt cascade down the face and every few hours a tremendous unseen crashing of hanging ice echoed throughout the park. It is my favorite time of year to hike Pictured Rocks for the quiet seclusion. The trail is arduous along the 15-20 percent of areas where it is snow-covered and 5 percent where it is underwater. Twenty years ago when I hiked the trail this same time of year the percentage of snow cover was higher and water cover didn't exist. The effects of global warming are clearly evident. This year I hiked with nothing more insulating than a long-sleeved wicking shirt under the bright sun.Once at Chapel Rock at 1:00 pm I realize I could have easily made it further to an open campsite and kicked myself for not snapping up the opportunity. The snorkel gear comes out, but the 50 degree water makes more than a few wet minutes unbearable without a wetsuit. Spray Falls will wait for a future trip as I head back to Miner's Beach. Other kayakers finally head out along the cliffs. The tour boat returns and provides a rush as its wake surges between two rocks. Occasionally the flies can be chased off by paddling under the downpour of the dripping cliff where groundwater is forced thro' cracks and permeable layers of the cliff. At the Mosquito River I try snorkeling again with a wetsuit on and it makes a big difference in the tolerance level.
I'm pretty exhausted at the end of the paddle and head to an overnight back-up plan: Muskallonge Lake State Park on the lakeshore north of Newberry. Not my particular cup of tea, but I'm too tired to drift around looking for a state forest campsite. I feel completely out of place among the Peterbiltbago-foldingchair-hangingplant-stbernard-barbeque camper-set with just my hammock and an ashtray-sized alcohol stove. Surprisingly, not a single firecracker report is heard in the near full park.