Some Spring Photos

Okay, I know it's boring to talk about weather, but it happens to be a major factor of life when you live on a small rock in the middle of a large body of water, so it does come up in conversation quite frequently. Today, for example, we had a very exciting morning report that included mentions of gale-force winds, large hail, dense fog, and something like 14-ft waves. Wooo-eee! (As a side note, I imagine that as the sound farmers make when they see a tornado coming towards their cornfields. Accurate?) It's bizarre how Lake Superior can go from one extreme (blazin' hot seventy degree sunshine!) to another (freezing cold fog) in a matter of a few hours.
Above: The fog of this morning. Below: Sunday's beautiful weather at Scoville Point.


As usual, there are plenty of great stories churning up in the Snug (giant brush fires overseen by Steve; the discovery of Robert's a-ma-zing coffee brewing skills; the cancellation of customs training due to gales from the west, leaving our Leah stranded in Windigo another day; engine troubles on the V2.) Today, however, I thought I'd leave everyone with just a few photos of life here:

The Ben East, surrounded by a cheerful dandelion field.

The shore of Siskiwit Lake, at interpretive training last week.

Trucks on a boat! I think this photo represents many a three-year-old boy's dreams.

The fearless Lorelei pilot - none other than Marshall himself - transporting us to Malone Bay.

And a few of the training participants: From left to right: Andrea (our fearless leader); Sam Case, SCA and photographer extraordinaire; the one and only Casey VerStrate; Miss Leah LaCasse, who we hope Windigo is treating well down there; Emma, the R III's new assistant purser; and Wes Tavegia himself, always a fun addition to any interp event.

May Means MOCC and Monkeys

MOCC is in full swing at Mott Island; a significantly smaller class than we had last year, but they sound like they’re enjoying themselves. Snug Harbor’s only contribution is newest interp ranger Sam Case, who will soon be the Cisco’s newest certified driver.

May also brings the annual monkey migration, in which spider monkeys and squirrel monkeys swim over from the Keweenaw and start munchin’ the spruces. Their monkey calls echo through the trees in Snug Harbor.

Well, that last paragraph might not be entirely true.

We do have some blooming calypso orchids, however, growing in bright spring colors along the Stoll and Tobin Harbor trails. John Muir once said that his second greatest day was when he met Ralph Waldo Emerson, but his number one greatest day was the one in which he found calypso orchids growing in a Canadian cedar swamp. Put on some hiking boots and go on an orchid hunt to re-create the moment of discovery for yourself; it really is something to come across the fairy slipper’s tiny, exquisite beauty in the moss and leaf litter. And with many of the trails in our vicinity cleared at last, hiking has become significantly less similar to tree climbing.

So come pay us a visit! The monkeys are worth seeing, anyway.

A few housekeeping details: Don't forget that we here in Snug Harbor love getting comments on our posts, so leave your reactions, stories, and questions here. If you have suggestions for blog posts, further questions, or complaints, feel free to email snugharborreporter@gmail.com anytime, night or day.

Snug Harbor on a Rainy Morning

I’m sitting here in the cozy Ben East living room with a few special guests, including Lori Honrath and Katie Donovan from Houghton, who just finished an epic east end hike. Outside it’s rainy and cold, but inside we’re bundled up snugly – haha, get it?

Me: Ladies, can you tell me a few stories from your hike?

(Momentary distraction ensues, due to Casey’s excellent and diverse music selection, which includes many numbers from The Carpenters.)

Lori: We discovered many different ways of getting over and around trees on the trail, and we coined a new phrase: tree portaging.
Katie: Oh, the otter – the otter was good!
Lori: We camped at Lane Cove, Ojibwe Tower, Moskey Basin, West Chickenbone, Lake Richie, and Daisy Farm.
Katie: Lots of bunnies out there.
Lori: Snakes – a red bellied snake! As well as some garter snakes.

They also saw an otter swimming at West Chickenbone (right at the first campsite, as if he were just hanging out there, waiting for them), three moose, and some loons and cranes, one of which they startled out of the trees.

Lori: We experienced interesting behavior with loons on a foggy morning.
Katie: I saw one running and flapping and rolling over – it was the weirdest thing.

(Casey, who runs a loon evening program, educates us on loon behavior. Interest turns to seeing if Casey’s music selection includes Tina Turner.)

Katie: I like reconnecting with the Rock Harbor staff.
Leah: Their favorite part of being in Rock Harbor is definitely seeing Leah.

The Ben East is as bustling as a small town hotel these days; last week it only held Steve, Casey, Leah, and myself; on Thursday Sam, our newest addition to the interp staff, arrived and moved in with Casey, and Emma, the new assistant purser, also hopped off the Ranger and moved into the last empty room for a week. Katie and Lori are here tonight, testing out our awesome new couches, and our sixth and final interp staff member will be moving in sometime next week (fingers crossed.) The fridges are filling up and the air is re-acquiring its pleasant hiking boot odor.

The Rock Harbor and Windigo interpretive staffs, along with Liz Valencia, spent Saturday through Monday at Malone Bay for interpretive training. None of us from Snug Harbor had ever been to Malone before. Besides learning new interpretive techniques, we also learned such valuable lessons such as how to recognize a hipster, how to count rabbit poops in marshes, and how to stamp out fires before the whole forest goes up.

(A view of Siskiwit Bay, one of the stops on our interpretive tour.)

Leah: We did a voyage cross-island that I’d never done before, learning the skills so we all can mesmerize our audiences with our…captivating interpretive skills.
Casey: I liked it. Favorite part: hanging out with the people from Windigo, getting to know them better.

There was some good bonding. We also bonded as a Snug Harbor community last Friday over a spectacular taco potluck, featuring Robert’s famous elk-buffalo tamale pie. Pete brought an orange.

In other words, the weather might be cold and rainy, but the friendships we form are warm enough to heat us from within! Or something like that.

Welcome Back to the Snug

Our island, just freshly released from a blanket of snow and ice, breathes and welcomes (we hope) each new set of boots that steps lightly off the Ranger III, up the wooden steps, and back onto the dock. We’re a symptom of spring in this ecosystem; buds crowd branches, tiny violets and hepatica flowers cluster along the trails, ice chunks on the lakeshores dwindle, loons prepare their nests and babies are born high and low – and the National Park Service arrives again. If the moose had textbooks, we’d probably be in there as “hibernators; emerge in spring.”

It feels good to be back, am I right? At the end of last season, I didn’t know if I’d be returning, but here I am again, and so happy to be walking the trails (or at least trying to walk on the trails; damn trees everywhere), chilling on the Tobin Harbor docks, cooking dinner in the Ben East. Our Snug Harbor crew is already almost complete. In the Ben East, we’re still awaiting our new SCA interps, but one of them, Sam, is on the Ranger as I write this. Most everyone here has been here far longer than I have, getting our water and power and sewage lines up and running. Snug Harbor is getting back in the groove: the only clues to the fact that it’s still so early in the season are the enormous piles of cut wood at the docks, cleared from the trails, and the distinct scarcity of backpackers and lodge guests in the vicinity. It’s peaceful.

So here we are again, folks, and here we will be, as the buds flush and explode into verdancy, as eggs hatch and calves grow, as the water warms and flowers come and go, as berries ripen and fall. I’ll be keeping you updated, near and far, with the events of Snug Harbor, so stay tuned. From the cozy V.C. to our new Command Central in the auditorium (I’m here now, sitting next to a cardboard box labeled “Pollock Beer Batter;” what other Command Central can boast that?) I will bring the stories, the jokes, the mishaps, the wonders.

Here we go –

Yours,
Liz Dengate
Snug Harbor Reporter