Day 13: Waterfalls And Sapsuckers

Tuesday, June 25, 2013

The whole Finland thing was just odd. Not only did we bumble into the place a few days previous, but we bumbled back to town for camping.  To make it even more odd, breakfast was in the same diner as lunch a few days previous.  No Sarah Palin.  Perhaps it’s a sign of the times, but all the older fellows at the bar stopped in mid-conversation, turned to face the door and did the Pledge of Allegiance to the tiny flag that was tacked to the wall.  The Pledge is certainly not odd, but the whole scene was. Trust me.

Shortly after breakfast, we were busting it down to the shoreline and back to Gooseberry Falls. (We did not have time for it the first time through.)  Continuing our theme of saving wildlife from imminent road death, this toad seemed a bit grumpy when we removed him from the walking path.  Oh never mind - they always look grumpy.....

For you waterfall photographers out there, this place is a must. 

Actually three separate sets of falls, the Gooseberry River puts on quite show. Not only do you have a grand view but it is easily accessible from the Visitors Center. Once on site, you are basically free to rock–scramble and do you what you want. Sure you could slip on the rocks,  bust your melon open, and show the scars for the rest of your life, but if you pay attention to what you are doing, you can have quite a bit of fun.

It is my fondest wish to return here and photograph this place the right way (whatever that means).  Early.  Nice light.  No people.  Maybe someday….

A pleasant hike followed (people were starting to arrive and goof up my shots).  Mourning Warbler was confirmed as were black Woodchucks. Really. They are black. We had to ask staff what they were.

Following a short lunch at Temperance Falls while enjoying the Bitter Neighbor IPA (#1466), and fending off food-grubbing chipmunks, we knew we needed to start driving.  It was actually hard to leave.  The Lake Superior shore of Minnesota is to be treasured. If you have not been there, do it.

Following the uneventful border crossing, we pressed on to Kakabeka Falls.  Rooted in Objibwe for “Waterfall over a cliff” (those crafty folks….), the falls are formed by the Kaministiquia River (Kah-mih-NIST-oh-kwa) as it pours over the Canadian Shield.  That some odd rocks, folks.  Sadly, the lighting sucked. Bad.  To make matters worse, the hottest temperatures of the trip were here.  Flesh was melting. Okay, not quite, but close. Easily 90 degrees. (Long gone were the chilly days of Michigan's Upper Peninsula.)  To celebrate the chill, the next item on our menu was hot spaghetti. Yeah, great.  We discovered cold beer can help immensely.

When the evening cooled a bit (only plastic was melting at this point), we went back to the falls (they are THAT neat) and later birded the campground. Sadly, this was an episode where my camera geared failed.  With a Yellow-bellied Sapsucker nest feet off the road and less than 10 feet high, I failed to snag a solid photo. The flash was just not cutting it.  To add insult to injury, the bugs were a bitin’, as the black flies had put in an appearance that was only one step below the devastation of the Porcupine Mountains.  (By now, I was really getting tired of those little bastards.) Mosquitoes were in force, as well, so I couldn’t really concentrate. Composition blows.

By sunset, we were pooped.  Nighty-night…..

Day 12: Pillows And Pubs

Monday, June 24, 2013

After scoring some super Ethiopian coffee at a local coffee house, we set a course for Voyageurs National Park.  You know these guys already. Short. Built like a you-know-what.  Strong.  Paddle an entire Great Lake before breakfast.

Back in the day, after clearing Grand Portage, many would come cruising through what is now Voyageurs National Park.  Sadly, for us landlubbers, our options were limited. There were no canoe rentals as far as we would tell.  Both interpretive centers were closed on Mondays.  Couldn’t they have staggered the schedules so that at least one was open every day of the week?  Hiking it would be. Fine, right?

Unfortunately, the park is so water-oriented, hiking options were limited.  A mile here or there and that was about it.  We’re not complaining.  But let’s face it.  There was not much on the main land portion and there was no way for us to get elsewhere!

Despite having already set up camp in the Wooden Frog Campground (before we ventured into the park), Natalie hatched a plan.  Leave.  We hiked. We ate lunch.  We “were there”. So move along, right? We did just that.

After shuffling the Ruffed Grouse babies out of the road much to mom’s dismay (I did you a favor, babe!), we broke camp and moved out.  A quick stop at a party store (so I could spend my Where’s George dollar) and we were rocketing…um, driving, east again to the Superior lakeshore. 

Natalie, in training to be school teacher, was just eating up that “Roadside Geology” book.  With some stops between International Falls and Gooseberry Falls highlighting local geology, our bird trip was taking on a serious “boulder” twist. 

Take Soudan, for example.  Where else can see you rock formations like this?

This rock out crop is probably one of the most photographed features in Minnesota (if you’re a geologist, future science teacher or nature nerd). Geologists still can’t agree on what actually happened here, but they agree on some things.  The red is jasper , the white is chert or quartz (depending on which whites you are looking at) and the gray is hematite.   Cool, eh? 

Taking a sample is forbidden. Also, I would need a flatbed.  You know the kind - the 18-wheelers. The big ones. Perhaps this photo tells you why. This is only a portion of it, by the way. Just the exposed surface would be enough room to park three cars, at least....

Suddenly geeked for all things rock, we pressed on to Ely. Pronounced “EE-Lee”, not “EE-Lie”, we were looking for pillows. Not soft, bed pillows. Rock pillows. No, not rock-hard pillows. Those are at Super 8s.  Pillows.

About 2.7 billion years ago, northern Minnesota was underwater. With all the volcanic activity in the region, it was only a matter of time before lava (molten rock) oozed into the ocean from cracks in the bottom.  Cooling immediately, the ooze would re-direct, only to cool again.  Ooze. Cool. Ooze. Cool. The result is a lump of smooth rocks glued together.  In the photo above, note the large oval rock that is top center.  That’s a pillow. If you are not sure, that’s awesome. 

Speaking of Ely, it should be noted that, at times, we all act like kids.  Simple things excite us.  Maybe you have seen it with the young children in the mall.  When they see Santa, they shout it – “Santa! Santa! Mom, it’s Santa!”  You know what I’m talking about.

On the ride into Ely, before we found the pillows, I had one of those moments.   Not expecting it, I saw something awesome – “Brewpub! Brewpub! Natalie, there’s a brewpub!” Unlike children in the mall who scream and wet themselves, I did neither. In any case, I was excited.  I failed to check "Find Beer" on my phone and did not know it was here.  I

The Boathouse Restaurant and Brewpub might be one of my favorites from the whole trip. In a certain manner, it reminded me of our dear Fort Street Brewery.  The good food.  Goofy beer names.  Good beer.

Zohmerfest Ale, Nogginfogger English Ale, Dan K Double IPA, and Black Bear Honey Wheat Porter (#1462-1465) were the four I chose.  He had more, but driving responsibly is important.  The ale was light and refreshing (nothing really crazy) while the others were a step up.  The Honey Wheat did not seem to have a solid honey presence but I'm not gonna complain.  3’s across the board. 

The ride from Ely to the Lake Superior Shoreline is great.  Winding. Wooded.  What fun.  Seeing the woman rescue to the turtle from death on Route 1 was awesome and made us realize we are not the only people who do that.  Sadly, during the drive, I noticed the spectacular, pastel colors of the setting sun behind us. With no real photo ops anywhere along the road, the single best evening for photography was lost. What a complete drag.

Camping was in, of all places, Finland.  We were already there. Remember the tiny non-town with Sarah Palin as the waitress? When we left, we joked about how we would probably never see that town again. Not only did we see it, we camped there. Who woulda thunk it.

Day 11: Old Lakes And Red Lakes

Sunday, June 23, 2013

The morning saw more rain.  Tough as we are, we pressed on.  Moving through Grand Rapids, the birthplace of Frances Ethel Gumm, we had a quick bite and found ourselves birding one of Minnesota’s premiere destinations. 

Except it wasn’t….

At 61,000 acres, Agassiz National Wildlife Refuge is massive.  Of course, that is nowhere near the size that the now gone glacial Lake Agassiz occupied.  After the glacier’s final retreat about 13,000 years ago, the regions now known as Manitoba, northwestern Ontario, northern Minnesota, eastern North Dakota, and Saskatchewan were under water.  At its greatest size, Lake Agassiz was 170,000 square miles (miles, folks, not acres!).  When the glaciers moved north of Hudson Bay, the dam, so to speak, opened, and Lake Agassiz drained. It raised global sea level over 5 feet.  That’s a lot of water.

Habitats within the refuge range from wetlands and bogs to fields and forest.  Moose and wolves are there.  With almost 300 birds species on the checklist, we had high hopes.  Books were making this place sound like we should clean up.  Eh, not really….

Sure, Natalie scored her Black-billed Magpie and super views of Sedge Wren (vindicating us from the situation at Sax Zim Bog).  But there was not a grebe to be had.  Five species of grebe? No way. We did not see a single grebe. Period.  The MASSIVE Franklin’s Gull colony?  Gone so far as we could tell. We struggled. Waterfowling was good, but overall, we struggled.

From a goofy standpoint, we were so sun-starved we took a picture of blue sky when it peaked from behind the clouds.  Before long, the skies had cleared. We wept.

Interestingly enough, in terms of birds, we did better outside the refuge than in it.  Within a few minutes, we had scored Natalie her life-bird Western Meadowlark and Marbled Godwit.  Life birds?  You can’t really complain about that!

Trying to maximize our time, we birded rather late (past usual dinner time).  The closest realistic lodging was Bemidji.  Trying to make up time on the road, the ‘ole Chevy Cruze cruise control was set at warp factor 7.3. That is bad considering the Red Lake Indian Reservation posted the speed limit at warp factor 5.5.  I don’t care what people say – he was a very nice officer. He did not want to ruin my vacation. He said so himself.

Red Lake, by the way, turned out to be very pleasant.  Zipping along (at warp factor 5.7), I saw white birds on the water out of the corner of my eye.  Within seconds, Natalie and I were gawking at 30 or more Western Grebes.  A detailed look of one bird confirmed less black on the head.  Chalk that one up as a Clark’s.  While we were scrutinizing the raft, a flock of Franklin’s Gulls diddled by. Go figure. All that time at Agassiz and we score a trifecta in one spot within 5 minutes.

By sunset, we were in Bemidji struggling to find food.  The coolest place in town (with great beer and locally grown food) was closed for the night.  We settled for…I’m embarrassed to say this….Applebee’s.  We wept more. 

Bemidji, by the way, claims they are the home of Paul Bunyan. Don’t tell that to Brainerd, Shelton, and Westwood (all in Minnesota), Bay City (Michigan), Eau Claire (Wisconsin), and Bangor (Maine). Even Wahoo (Nebraska) also claims the title.

Nebraska?

Day 10: Boats And Bogs

Saturday, June 22, 2013

The morning found us doing what all people should be doing – enjoying a cup of goodcoffee while listening to the sounds of the North Woods.  You’re probably thinking Common Loon. I’m not.  Loon schmoon.  They get too much attention.  We have officially nominated the LeastFlycatcher as the sound. 

After gearing up and stashing packs at the camp store (more on that later), we took another hike. With a 2:00 departure looning…um, sorry, looming over us, it was a casual mile or so.  More of the usual but certainly not dull.  Moose tracks (not the ice cream) were quite abundant.  Poopies were fresh.  We could tell. We know our shit.

Why did we stash our gear at the store? The park kicked us out of the cabin!  It turns out Natalie got naked and danced around with the rabbits (we saw some snowshoe hares– really!).  Patrons got disturbed and told on us.  Also, the cabins are so new, the official ribbon cutting ceremony was scheduled for our original check-out time. They needed time to clean up the joint, so they booted us. We knew this advance so it was hardly a big deal. Plus, they gave a few bucks off.

Why is this important?  Because the ceremony had a pile a cheese cubes the likes we have never seen, cake, cupcakes, beverages, and various nibbles and munchies.  We got to meet the Park Superintendent.  They agreed to name the cabin after us.  Awesome, huh?

With still some time to kill for the potential boat-ride-of-death, we hiked a bit more. Wolf scat. Awesome. While I am still regretting not photographing the tracks in Wisconsin, this will do.

I botched some River Otter photos as it was frolicking in the harbor. The Merganser was much more cooperative.

With that, we geared up and departed on one of the smoothest boat rides in the history of boating. Sure, visibility was just inches, but nobody got soaked and nobody chucked their lunch.  That can’t be all bad, right?

It should be noted that Boy Scouts are not always prepared.  I will give this troop credit, though. They hiked all the way around the island.  That’s cool. However, for the ride home, they thought t-shirts would be enough. Heavier shirts and jackets were stowed below.  They got quite cold.  Lake Superior on an open boat deck on a damp, chilled, cloudy June afternoon? Fail.

Upon returning to Grand Portage, Nat and I made a change.  Plan A got dumped. Plan B got the nod and off we went….three hours or so to Sax-Zim Bog……

….for nothing.

Sax-ZimBog is a birding highlight in central Minnesota.  It totally rocks in the winter and can be quite productive in the summer, as well.  Maybe that Connecticut Warbler would show up for Natalie? Maybe the FIVE Great Gray Owls that had been seen only two weeks before would be hanging out again. 

Sadly, no.  No warbler. No owls.  Lots of mosquitoes and imminent rain – how neat.  In fact, the best we could do was a heard-only Sedge Wren.  That didn’t help Nat at all.  She wanted to see it.

We did the best we could under the circumstances but decided to press on.  A short drive up the road was Hibbing.  A hotel was in order as setting up a tent in the rain blows...

In hindsight, the entire Sax-Zim Bog leg of the trip could have been chopped. Of course, if we had seen Great Grays, it would have been worth it and we would trumpet how cool it was. But we didn’t. So it wasn’t.  It was more or less worthless.