Upper Peninsula Camping Trip

We're back from one of our favorite places on the planet: the southern shore of Lake Superior. Overall, it was a great trip. We only got rained on 3 times. We got a lot of reading and relaxing done, took some good hikes to some old and new places, and of course ate reasonably well the whole time.

Monday, September 1st:

Labor Day, and it's HOT. Tim wanted to leave home between 9 and 10am, so that meant we left at 11. We passed our good friends Dave and Joanne Borkowski on I-75 going north (who else has the unmistakeable stainless steel, custom-built smoker cover on the back of their Cougar 5th-wheel??) on their way home from camping in the Thumb.

We pulled into Twelvemile Beach campground around 7pm, saw that all the lakeside campsites were occupied, so we took site #36 in the turnaround loop on the back side. Which turned out to be a very good thing. We were close to a water pump, and close to the toilets, but not so close that the piquant vault toilet aroma would drift into our site.



That's looking toward the water pump. Notice how you have this thick screen of trees and underbrush between us and the next site, wayyyy down there. That's why we like campgrounds like this.

We set up camp, lit a fire, cracked open some beer, set a can of baked beans on the fire grate to heat up, and roasted some hot dogs for dinner.

Tuesday, September 2nd:



Hot again. We took a long hike eastward down the beach in the morning, and then back again either using the road or the North Country Trail. Then we spend a good part of the afternoon on the beach. We used our biodegradable pack soap from our Grand Canyon trip and washed up in the lake. The water was a bit invigorating, but this felt good when the temperatures are hovering near 90F. We sat in camp chairs reading, and gathered a few beach stones for a friend who wants to make garden castle sculptures.

Don't ever buy the pasties in Grand Marais. The grocery/hardware store (yes, they're together on the west side of the main street) had some frozen ones for sale. We probably could have complained later to the nice woman who sold them to us, but I didn't feel like being ugly down-staters. We paid the $5 each for them, baked them in the dutch oven back at camp, and then opened the pretty golden brown crusts to discover only about one teaspoon of meat and a whole lot of vegetables, some of which were mysterious black cubes. Which, try as I might, could not identify. Tasted like frozen carrots, but I don't think they were. Possibly they were very discolored potatoes. Maybe beets. They tasted fine, but... At any rate, since I'm now sitting here alive and well typing this, they didn't cause any internal distress. We shrugged, opened another beer, squirted on some more ketchup, and finished them.

I should also mention that dry ice is not a good thing for keeping food cold in a cooler. It's great for keeping things frozen, or freezing things that shouldn't be frozen, and then evaporating and then leaving them at room temperature. We thought we'd try it this time, since we'd be so far out in the boonies. We won't do that again. The few things we'd left in the cooler were ominously warm, including the partial jar of mayo I'd brought along to make chicken salad later. I threw that in the bear-proof trash bin at camp,and replaced that with the most expensive jar of mayo I've ever purchased. Everything is overpriced in the stores up there. Even more reason to plan out the entire trip's meals and have everything along with you.

Later, we thought we heard thunder. Then we were sure we heard thunder. As before on other camping trips, we are amazed at how far the sound of thunder rolls on the shore of Lake Superior. On her tour through the campsite that morning, the park ranger had told me rain would be coming around 7 or 8 pm in the evening, and sure enough... We walked the short distance to the sandy bluff overlooking the lake, and joined our fellow campers to watch the lightning bolts from thunderstorms far out over the lake. About an hour later, after we'd crawled into bed, the line of storms finally arrived, and we heard the sound of rain on the camper canvas.

Wednesday, September 3rd:

We wake up to the sound of crashing surf. We walk down to the bluff and watch as huge, curling waves pound onto the shore. It's at least 20 degrees cooler and very windy. Now we are really glad we don't have a lakefront campsite, because the wind is whipping over the bluff, through the trees and buffeting the remaining campers there. We hardly feel a breeze back on our site, sheltered by the woods.

We leave for a hike in the Chapel Falls/Chapel Rock area. This requires being on the road a lot more than necessary, because a new stretch of H58 is being paved between our campsite and westward through the Pictured Rocks area toward Munising. So, we have to go around: east to Grand Marais, south down 77, and then back west on 28. This paving is going to be going on for the next year or two until all of H58 is paved. Which is a shame. It's going to lose a lot of its charm:



We park and hike the 3 miles toward the lake past Chapel Falls and to Chapel Rock. We talked to a couple of cute backpackers. Then we hiked eastward to find Spray Falls. Which turned out to be not that spectacular, since you can only see the part that goes over the cliff. To really see it well, you'd have to be out in the water.











We talked to a couple from Rhode Island who had been on an aborted Pictured Rocks boat cruise that morning. The water was just too rough, so the boat had to go back.

By the time we got back to the truck, we had hiked over 9 miles, and we were tired. My left heel was pretty pissed off about the whole thing, too, so I took some 'Vitamin I' to shut up the complaining. Next order of business was to find a fish market that was still open at around 6pm (they aren't) or a supermarket that sold freshly caught Lake Superior whitefish. We were in luck and found some nice filets in Munising. And even a bottle of wine to go with them.

A great, easy side dish while camping is couscous. You boil water/chicken broth. Pour couscous in, about half as much as the water. Turn off gas. Put lid on pot. 5 minutes later, it's done. I had brought some compound herb/garlic butter, and that did multiple duties all week. We put some in with the whitefish in a parchment/foil packet and grilled that over the fire. I tossed a lump into the couscous. We poured the wine in our big ol' plastic red wine goblets at the picnic table under our new screen tent, and enjoyed dinner. The Robert Mondavi Pinot Noir actually went well with it all. I still am of the white wine goes with white meat/big red wine goes with red meat school of thought. But Tim said it would be OK. We were far enough out in the sticks that the wine police would never know.

Earlier, I sliced up a small pile of apples and baked them down in the dutch oven with cinnamon, nutmeg, brown sugar, butter and a little tawny port. That was our dessert.

After dark, Tim went to the bluff and came back to tell me there was a freighter off shore. We both walked back down and watched it slowly move east, lit up like a small golden town out there in the darkness. But it wasn't quite as dark as it normally would have been, because what was that strange, silvery curtainlike glow in the sky? Light enough to darkly silhouette clouds in front of it and reflect on the water? Where there were no towns whatsoever in that direction to cast that kind of light? We watched the display of northern lights with the usual downstaters' slack-jawed delight.

Thursday, September 4th:

It's Timmeh's birthday! The surf is still rough, and it's still cool. It's a little cloudy, but not raining. After all the miles we logged in the truck yesterday, we have no plans to drive anywhere today. I make a cream-cheese stuffed cinnamon bread French toast in the dutch oven and we grill some Canadian bacon over the fire for breakfast.



We hike westward from our campsite as far as 7-Mile Creek. That's just over 5 miles round trip. Along the way we see the usual beautiful deserted stretches of beach, and we find miles of wild blueberries. 2.6 miles takes a long time to hike when you are bent over picking and eating berries.





We discover that a deep-cycle marine battery only lasts about 3 1/2 days. The water pump and interior camper lights begin struggling, and the low battery alarm starts chirping. So Tim swaps out the battery for a second one which he has had the foresight to charge and bring along. We think of the possibility of finding some kind of solar recharger.

Most of the day we sit reading. I finished Ruth Reichl's 'Tender at the Bone', having enjoyed 'Garlic and Sapphires' so much, on loan from Mom. Then I started on 'Comfort Me With Apples'. Tim is enjoying Anthony Bourdain's 'Kitchen Confidential'.

For dinner, we have some ginormous bone-in chicken breasts, and I have had bread dough proofing since late yesterday afternoon. There's a nice warm spot on the countertop in the camper above the refrigerator. Which we have found works superbly on propane, in fact gets cold enough to nearly freeze things. I shape the loaf and it rises quite nicely right there in the camper. Meanwhile I stuffed herbs and some of the herb-garlic butter and some leftover onion under the chicken skin. We browned those in the big dutch oven, and let those cook while the loaf of bread baked in the smaller oven. I put a few too many charcoal briquettes on top, and the loaf got larger than last time, so the top burnt. Oops. But we ripped off the burnt part, and dragged hunks of warm bread through the buttery olive oil chicken drippings. And drank a Peter Lehman Clancy's Shiraz/Cab/Shiraz blend. Life was good.

For dessert, I brought out some peanut butter filled chocolate cupcakes I'd baked last week. I froze 4 of them, intending to pull them out as Tim's birthday cake. Thanks to the disappearing dry ice, they had gotten a bit too soft in the cooler, and the perfect, huge peanut butter filling rosettes I had piped on top had melted. Oh well. I stuck candles in the tops, lit them so Tim could blow them out, and they were still delicious.



Today we also discovered we can take hot showers in our own campsite if need be. Yes, we have the luxury of a small water tank, a gas water heater and a hand-held shower on the outside of the camper. Lake or river bathing does the job, but there's nothing like warm water and 'real' shampoo to get hair squeaky clean. That's really the only thing I hate about rustic camping: flat, greasy ugly hair. When french-braiding it doesn't even help it look better. And I didn't even drain the water tank, either. Tim braved the wind and waves and washed his hair in the lake, while I was drying mine in front of the toasty-warm propane heater inside the camper.

Meanwhile it had been drizzling since late afternoon. It was cold and soaking wet outside. Our plans to move a couple hours eastward and camp elsewhere were scratched, and we decided to stay one more night right where we were, so things could dry out.

Friday, September 5th:

Late Summer U. P. Chicken Salad:

2 apples, one red, one yellow, diced
The center part of a bunch of celery, chopped
Leftover herbs, chopped (rosemary, parsely, oregano, chives)
About a cup of toasted walnuts
The meat from a leftover chicken breast, diced
about a cup of light mayo
about a quarter cup of wild blueberries
a big squirt of brown mustard
freshly ground pepper and salt

Mix well, pack in cooler and enjoy on whole grain bread while picnicking at the mouth of the Two-Hearted River.

We did even more driving on Friday than Wednesday. There is an incomprehensible web of dirt roads and nameless tracks in the eastern end of the U. P. which we have had the pleasure of nearly getting lost in since the early 90's. We drove eastward from the Rainbow Lodge/Two-Hearted River campground (we were here 3 years earlier on our canoeing trip) and without really intending to, found Crisp Point lighthouse, which ate up a lot of the afternoon, but was a beautiful detour.





We eventually found our way out of there, and took the paved road through Paradise, the Tahquamenon Falls area, and northward to Whitefish Point. We haven't been through the Shipwreck museum to see the Edmund Fitzgerald memorabilia lately, but usually just check out the bird observatory gift shop and see the handmade quilt that will be raffled off in a few weeks to benifit the bird observatory station. We had already bought a few tickets from Sean, our hard-core bird-watcher beer afficianado slate-tile installing friend. But we bought a few more while we were there. This year the quilter has done a pattern of hummingbirds. It's beautiful, and would be quite nice to win.

A quick stop at Jenny's Cranberry Gifts which was about to close in 10 minutes, and then a stop at the fabric store in Paradise. They have patterns I have not seen downstate that are perfect for woodsy, northern Michigan projects. I bought a couple of batik prints and a Christmas pine cone fabric that would make very good panels for the pantry door in the basement.



I don't know how many miles we put on the truck that day, but it was nearing sunset by the time we got back to the campsite. It was hot dogs and beans and beer again for dinner. Everything at camp was perfectly dry. The sunset was so beautiful. We decided to take it easy and just do all our packing up in the morning.



Saturday, September 6th:

It was probably about 0530 when we heard the first tiny sprinkles of rain on the canvas. Oh, you have got to be kidding!! was our first waking thought. So much for breaking a dry camp. I can't even remember the last time we got to break camp when things weren't rain-soaked. Next time anyone has a drought, just call us. We will set up our camper there, and in a matter of hours, you will have rain.

In spite of the soaking rain and dripping trees, we got packed up and ready to hit the road for home in just under 2 hours. We stopped for life-giving coffee in Grand Marais. Not nearly strong enough, but it did the job. We headed home in increasingly driving rain. We stopped for lunch at Lehto's, where we enjoyed GOOD pasties, while sitting at our usual roadside picnic area in the truck.

We stopped in St. Ignace to pick up some just-caught walleye filets at Mackinac Straits Fish Company for later cooking at home, and then stopped at Mackinaw Crossing for a bit of shopping. And more life-giving coffee (from Starbuck's, where we know it will be good) Then we headed home, where all I wanted as soon as we got there was a hot shower and squeaky clean hair.