It was time to pack up all of my gear again. Dave & Heather were leaving on the Seahunter III and the cabin was being sealed up. Volunteering at the Rock of Ages was over, but I was staying because I wanted to do at least one Isle Royale hike, and there's pretty much the perfect one-night hike from Windigo. I would be going 3.3mi (5.3km) to Huginnin Cove tonight, then 3.1mi (5km) back tomorrow.

(Someone more hardcore might do the 17 miles round trip to Feldtmann Lake.)

Before leaving Windigo, I had to hand in my hiking itinerary. There were no problems with my meagre plans, especially considering that I had to hand them to my new ranger friend from our Lake Trout dinner. We then had a nice chat about the Rock of Ages and how I was finding Isle Royale. I left wishing I was a more animated person to convey how much I enjoyed my week here.

Walking back outside, there was a scale and a sign saying that your pack should weigh between 50 and 84 pounds - mine weighed in at a slender 34 pounds without camping fuel, water or any other fluids. I guess my sleeping bag, tent, clothes and book didn't weigh all that much.

Pulling my rain jacket over my head, and my rain cover over my 70L pack for the first time ever, I had to laugh at how every other Isle Royale day was gorgeous except today. The rain wasn't going to hold off for the morning and it wasn't going to die off by the afternoon either. It was going to be coming down all day and this is how I'd be getting to Huginnin Cove.

Planning on starting out with the eastern loop of the Huginnin Cove Trail, I went up the Minong Ridge Trail for about a mile (1.6km) before connecting with my trail for today. I couldn't have been very far from the Minong Ridge section I hiked on the first day, because this part was also reminding me of romping through Southwestern Ontario forests.

As much as it doesn't seem like the greatest thing to be out hiking in the rain, I had a smile on my face and was enjoying myself. There were no complaints that I now found myself alone, hiking along with tall trees and the only sound being the raindrops on the tree leaves. The setting was absolutely gorgeous to my midwestern-loving eyes & this area was making me plan future return trips in my head.

One of the highlights of this trail are the ruins of the Wendigo Copper Mine. After about an hour of hiking, a sign pointed off trail and there up ahead was an old log cabin that was missing its roof.

The Wendigo mine opened in 1890 with the construction of the greatest settlement ever on Isle Royale, located where you now find Windigo. This settlement was known as Ghyllbank and featured a large office building, sheds, storage buildings, log cabins, boarding houses and a wharf out into Washington Harbor. Up here on the modern-day Huginnin Cove Trail, a few kilometres from the main town site, there were a couple of boarding houses and some log cabins closer to the action.

The Wendigo mining endeavour would only last 2 years, closing up and marking the end of Isle Royale copper mining in 1892. The fantastic Isle Royale National Park Cultural Resource Interactive Mapping Project has a much more detailed write-up about Wendigo, including pictures of various things I missed like a mine adit, wagon trail & wagon.

As I stood there the rain continued to come down, but I was making good time & things were going well with shouldering my shelter on my back. I had more than enough time to have a look around.

Picking a few thimbleberries around the log cabin, I stepped around puddles and into various forest breaks. Taking the first one, a piece of rail curved along the ground in the direction of Washington Harbor. Snapping a few pictures, as well as more of the log cabin, I would only realize the pictures were blurry when I got home. It was so dark and overcast with the weather, and maybe I was a bit cold from the rain, that I didn't steady the camera enough for many of my shots.

I continued meandering about the forest, including going halfway up a hill, but didn't find much else after the rails.

Returning my camera to my pack and settling back into hiking, there was another log cabin-like wood structure along a hillside beside the trail. The hillside was steep and there was only the log cabin, so I decided against taking my camera out and kept going.

The next place I would stop was a marshy area with gorgeous, mature trees. The Huginnin Cove Trail and especially this area, is touted as a good area to see a moose. Throughout my trip to Isle Royale, I laughed at the number of people who asked me if I saw a moose or heard any reports of moose. I understand that animals vary by region, but I still found moose excitement to be funny since I live in moose-laden Newfoundland.

(And yes, I've been to Texas and hypocritically lost my mind at seeing a roadrunner, thanks for asking.)

Leaving the marshy area without seeing a moose, the next remarkable section came as Lake Superior entered into view through a break in the trees. This last section of the trail started at a bluff overlooking Lake Superior, then followed the lake for about a kilometer (~1/2 mile) to the small, 5-site campground at Huginnin Cove. Where the weather had been so great at Windigo all week, this was feeling more like Northern Michigan up here. It was funny to think that I swam off the dock just yesterday.

At the camping area I had my choice of 4 sites, since 1 of the sites was already occupied. Even though I was wet and ready to break camp, I lugged my pack amongst the sites, thinking the furthest campsite out on the point would be the best. In the end I went back to the first campsite, which was the only other site right down on the water.

I wandered out on the rocks and around the area as much as I could, but soon enough I changed into beautiful dry clothes and laid down in my tiny backpacking tent. I'd bought one Keweenaw Brewing Company Amber Ale from the Windigo store and as I lounged, I cracked that open and gazed out the slot window that the lessening rain afforded me from my tent. What a satisfying day this was.

Now, tonight was the night of the last Tragically Hip concert in Kingston and I went out and purchased a portable radio because of this and made sure it worked.

For those who don't know, the Tragically Hip are a cultural pillar of Canadian music and pretty much universally liked by Canadians. Many of their songs are the soundtracks of Canadian road trips or memories, and as much as I'm not terribly patriotic, the Hip being a solid Canadian band is something I can get behind; both from their time as a band I simply liked when I heard them on Windsor radio, to them growing into more than that during my time in Nova Scotia and Newfoundland.

(My frequent road trip partner had The Tragically Hip's Greatest Hits in her car for about 3 years straight. If only I had a nickel for every time I played that CD after growing tired of local Newfoundland radio. Nowadays Newfoundland's Green Bay Junction pops into my head whenever I hear certain Hip songs.)

Tragically, tonight was their last concert because Hip frontman Gord Downie was diagnosed with an incurable brian tumour in May of 2016. Even through radiation treatment and other priorities, Gord insisted on doing one last tour.

This tour would end with one last show in the Hip's hometown of Kingston. To stress how important this was, realize that the CBC broadcasted the whole thing live on tv, radio & the internet. Almost everyone I knew had plans to be at some gathering or viewing party. Meanwhile I would be here, in a cove across from Thunder Bay, doing something much more Canadian than usual (although still on American soil, let's not get too crazy).

And so, after an hour of eating food & reading, I turned on the radio and found the CBC coming through loud and clear. The overcast day slowly dimmed as I laid flat on the ground, the radio hanging from the tent ceiling and blasting some of my favourites like Bobcaygeon & Wheat Kings, Gord valiantly delivering the lyrics with his trademark showmanship (which I could hear through his voice even without the visual).

It was on their second encore that they played my favourite song by them. Nautical Disaster exploded from that tiny portable radio as I listened in the dark, the Hip's music accentuated by the crashing waves of Superior. I can't act as if I'm the biggest Hip fan in the history of Canada, but some tears were shed as I rocked out, out here on the Canadian Shield.

"I had this dream where I relished the fray
and the screaming filled my head all day.
It was as though
I had been spit here,
Settled in, Into the pocket
of a lighthouse on some rocky socket,
Off the coast of France, dear."

An estimated 11.7 million Canadians tuned in, or about 33% of the population of Canada. (And I'm surprised that 11.7-million number isn't higher to be honest.)

I loved the way I listened, as "out at a cove in Lake Superior" seemed like it could fit right into a Hip song (but put in a much more clever/eloquent form by Mr. Downie).

The sun broke through and started to really roast the open areas the next day. Thankfully most of the West Huginnin Cove Trail was heavily forested, while also kept interesting by prominent rock walls and hills declining into marshy lowlands.

I was back in Windigo before I knew it. Although I didn't feel as if I just completed some insane backpacking expedition - and I surely didn't - I still celebrated with a pizza and a beer from the Windigo store. Even though I remained sort of full from breakfast, I realized how much I longed to dig into a greasy, cheesy pizza with a cold one. Dave was right when he told me that the store made a decent pizza.

And with that, my time on Isle Royale was coming to an end. I killed a few more minutes in the headquarters/store, before finally going down to the dock and placing my pack and camera down beside a pole. As I waited for my name to be called by the ferryman, I reminisced about my time here & how it couldn't have worked out much better.

In the midst of this I was called and raised my pack up to the ferry worker before boarding the ship. My Isle Royale ruminations continued as the boat engine started and the fine morning caused the trees to shine and the harbor to glimmer. I smiled and sat back against the last seat in the boat. We were taking a different boat today and this one was a bit more spacious.

I then noticed a guy stand up and pull out a giant lens to take some long lens shots of trees off in the distance...and the thought occurred to me, where the fuck was my camera?!

Jumping up, I raced over to the side of the boat & there it was, hanging off that pole where I was busy daydreaming about my time here.

The ferryman was undoing ropes by this point and the boat was pushing off. I rushed over and spewed an explanation and pointed at my camera. If I didn't grab it, there wasn't a boat coming tomorrow & I had planned and allotted everything for heading down Lake Superior's shore over the next handful of days.

The ferryman gave me a "hurry the f up" look. I jumped off the boat and raced over to my camera, while my old ranger friend was there, laughing and telling me that "you don't want to forget that!"

After the Rock of Ages, that might've been the understatement of the century. I jumped the foot-wide gap onto the boat and we were on our way. Thank God for that cameraman.

Continue to Part 5...