Touring Minnesota State Parks, Lake Superior’s North Shore and Festival of Sails

We had so much to see and do on our days off from volunteering at Edge of the Wilderness Discovery Center in Marcell, Minnesota.

 

Visiting Itasca State Park was a top priority.  It is Minnesota’s oldest State Park, established in 1891.  That same year, after much discussion and disagreement throughout the ages, it was declared officially that the headwaters of the Mississippi River are formed at Lake Itasca within the Park borders.  So, we just had to visit the humble beginnings of the Mighty Miss.  The River goes North a short distance, then curves Easterly before flowing South to its destination:  the Gulf of Mexico.  It is said that a raindrop takes 90 days from the time it falls to reach the Gulf.  I’d love to follow that raindrop on its journey!  We perused the outdoor exhibits at the Mary Gibbs Mississippi Headwaters Center, then hiked along the less populated Sawmill and Schoolcraft Trails, the latter of which was adorned with lovely lady slipper blooms.  We walked solemnly through the ancient Indian burial mounds, respectful of these sacred lands.  We enjoyed an early lunch at the Headwaters Café to refortify for the rest of our exploration.

The "official" headwaters of the Mighty Mississippi.

The lady slipper blooms.

Then we visited the replica of the Wegmann family cabin built by the skilled hands of the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC).  The Wegmanns’ original log structure is next door, slowly returning itself to nature.  The Wegmanns lived and operated a general store here, and they are buried in the nearby pioneer cemetery.  We went to the cemetery to pay our respects, but we weren’t the only ones there to do so—a mamma bear and her cub decided to join us.  We stopped at Preacher’s Grove, which contains some of Minnesota’s oldest red and white pine forests.  These 3-century-old specimens are ginormous.  Sadly, though, many had fallen from recent storms.   Though we explored the Park in reverse order, we still stopped at the Jacob Brower Visitor Center before leaving.  They had no film for me to watch, but I did enjoy the warm, welcoming setting.

Wegmanns' recreated cabin, compliments of the CCC.

Wegmann gravesite in the Pioneer Cemetery

            
                                                       

Preacher's Grove

Warm and welcoming Visitor Center.

Our visit to Scenic State Park wasn’t quite as scenic as we had hoped—there are several road construction and campsite improvement projects in the works.  But we came specifically to hike on the eskers on Chase Point Trail.  What’s an esker, you ask?  I didn’t know either, so I’ll share what I learned.  An esker is a long, narrow, winding ridge of sand and sediment deposited by a stream that ran beneath a glacier many moons ago.  Cooler temperatures and a brisk breeze made it feel like early Autumn—my kind of weather for a day in nature.

 

The trail along the esker.

The hike took us to a viewpoint of Coon Lake.

We took a daytrip to the Boundary Waters area.  It was a LONG ride on Maximus the Trike—we incurred construction delays on each and every road we traversed.  Northern Minnesota is very much like Alaska.  It has only 2 seasons:  Winter and road construction.  We were disappointed that we could not take the US Postal Service boat at Lake Vermilion, wherein you join the postman as he travels by vessel to deliver mail to areas along the Lake that are not accessible by road.  It’s a 3-hour daily ride covering 65 miles.  But what was once a well-kept secret has received national media attention, so we learned that the boat now books up swiftly.    Instead, we visited the International Wolf Center, which prides itself on being a leading source on wolf behavior.  Not calling this place a "zoo" is semantics to me.  Like the Lakota Wolf Preserve we visited many moons ago in New Jersey, the International Wolf Center claims it does not breed, train, or influence the behavior of the pack that live on premises.  They simply research, monitor, and record.    But conditioning the wolves with “enhancement techniques” pretty much turns them into Pavlov’s dogs in my view.  I did, however, enjoy watching the film immensely.  It focused on the Ojibwe tale of Anishinaabe the human and Ma’iingan the wolf and their close relationship.  As the tale goes, the Creator made the human Anishinaabe.  But Anishinaabe was lonely and asked for a companion.  The Creator gave him the wolf Ma’iingan, and the two became as close as brothers, going everywhere together.   But the Creator warned that at some point in time, the two would need to part ways.  It was said that though separated, whatever happened to one of them, would happen to the other.  Hence, both the Ojibwe Anishinaabe and the wolf Ma’iingan suffered a loss of land and a loss of identity, almost to the point of extinction.  But as time went on, both survived, strived, and thrived.  An interesting and inspiring tale.  

 

My parents made the mistake of leaving me home one evening when they went a few miles down the road to Hayslip’s Corner, Minnesota’s oldest bar.  Well, with them away, you know the rodentia will play.  So, my pocket pal, Nezumi, and I threw a pop-up party.  Everyone had a fabulous time.  But I had 1 poop head, Marvin the Mouse, who just overstayed his welcome.  He turned into a squatter.  So, I am in HUGE trouble with Mom, who has no love of rodentia in our home other than stuffed toy versions like me and Nezumi.  And, of course, Dad has turned into Elmer Fudd trying to evict Marvin.  Trust me, it won’t end well for Marvin.  And I suspect that I won’t be left home unsupervised again for a while.

 

We had another 4-day mini getaway, this time to Duluth and Lake Superior’s North Shore.  We traversed along MN-2 East, stopping to view the Duluth Missabe and Iron Range Engine 225.  Commissioned in 1941, it hauled 44 million tons of ore from the Mesabi and Vermilion Ranges and traveled nearly 700,000 miles during its 20 years of service.

 

Soon we arrived on the shores of Lake Superior.  While early August should be the “dog days of summer”, the thermometer was not indicative of it.  It registered a comfortable 74F degrees, but it felt considerably cooler with the crisp air blowing off the Lake.  Our first stop was to tour the S.S. William A. Irvin, one of the first class of Great Lakes iron ore vessels (A.K.A. “Lakers”) with electric steering.  Built by U.S. Steel in 1938 at a length of 610 feet, she was retired in 1978 because she was considered too small compared to newer vessels like the Edmund Fitzgerald, which registered over 725 feet.  (Of course, the S.S. Irvin fared much better than the ill-fated Edmund Fitzgerald, which sunk in Lake Superior in 1975).

 

Area for VIP guests.

This display is in the hull of the ship!

This is your Captain speaking!

We were traversing through Canal Park and along the Lakeway Trail in search of an eatery when we stumbled upon Va Bene.  Who would have thought we would find good Italian food in Minnesota?  We were willing to give it a try since it had options for Dad and some lovely views of the Lake.  And we were pleasantly surprised.  We all had tasty pasta primavera with San Marzano tomatoes.  Mom awarded Va Bene extra points because they served bread with the meal.  Though it wasn’t a Brooklyn-baked Italian loaf, it was homemade, delicious, and much appreciated.  Fortified with full bellies, we walked over to Duluth Trading Company.  Though this visit was a BIG DEAL for Dad, he said he could live without the $22 no pinch, no sweat, no stink boxer shorts.  Instead, he and Mom spent over $200 on matching raingear.  Though it looks like it will be of good use with the weather forecasted here, I think they just should have adopted my thrifty raingear choice—a 3-millimeter trash bag.

 

Some views from Lakeview Trail and Canal Park...

As we walked along the streets of Duluth, I loved the way the City repurposed outdated buildings.  Warehouses were converted to retail spaces, and a telephone substation smaller than a tiny house is now an ice cream shop.  Even chain restaurants like Red Lobster that usually have a distinct exterior style/floorplan are housed in converted buildings.

 

We checked into the Historic Willard Munger Inn.  Willard Munger holds the distinction of being Minnesota’s longest serving representative.  He served for a total of 42 years, 7 months, before dying in 1999.  At 88 years old, he was also Minnesota’s oldest legislator.  He established the Inn in 1954, and it is now run by his grandson.  The “inn” is more like an old-school motor lodge, though management has been working diligently to enhance the amenities.  For $100/night, it offered everything we needed since we were only in it for sleeping, and it had some pretty grounds/outdoor seating areas.  Obviously, others felt the same way since the place was booked solid.  Furthermore, a nice biking/hiking trail runs right behind the property.  The trail is named in honor of Munger, an avid environmentalist.

 

We boarded Maximus the Trike early the next morning and traveled along North Shore Drive.  We stopped at several scenic lookouts along the way, though tree growth now blocks what once was a pristine view.  We passed through Beaver Bay, population 120, which was once part of the trade route.   I wonder if any beavers still reside there? 

Silver Creek Cliffs and Tunnel as viewed from the Gitchi-Gami State Trail.

The Cross of Father Frederic Baraga, a Missionary devoted to the Ojibwe Indians.  It replaced the wooden cross Father Baraga built in1846 in thanks to God for his safe passage across Lake Superior during a horrific storm.  We also stopped at the Cross River Waterfalls.



 

Rocky, the mascot of Silver Bay and its taconite mining industry.

We passed a couple of cute residential properties.  Then we did a double take—holy horse poop!  What the heck?  At first it looked like a pile of rubbish, remnants of a fire or even an old garage sale.  But the more closely we examined, we realized it was a piece of art.  Utilizing animal statues, mirrors, and an assortment of natural and manmade materials, it was a unique recreation of wildlife residing in natural habitat.

 

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.  Once I figured out this artistic creation, I was intrigued.  It was like finding hidden images in Highlights Magazine!

We reached our late-morning destination:  Naniboujou Lodge and Restaurant.  We were super excited to come here, having heard wonderful things about it.  And they all proved true!  It is a gorgeous property along the shores of Lake Superior.    Built in the 1920s by high-profile investors like sports figures Babe Ruth and Jack Demsey, it was a wealthy man’s getaway.  Today it is a welcome retreat from electronics--no cell service, no TVs, no Wi-Fi, just the peace and serenity of nature. The dining area is spectacular! Painted in vibrant, Southwestern motifs, a hand-masonry stone hearth stands front and center.  We planned to eat lunch here, but we learned quickly that this was not to be.  The restaurant, like so many other businesses, was suffering a staffing shortage.  Therefore, only breakfast and dinner service was offered now.  Meals were all buffet style, no open menu offerings.  The real kicker, though:  the restaurant was only accommodating its lodging guests—it was no longer available to the general public.  I was totally bummed.  My parents appeased me by letting me take a dip in the cold waters of Lake Superior, the 4^th of the Great Lakes we have visited.

 

Me and Dad along the shores of Lake Superior.

We returned to Grand Marais to seek an alternate eatery.  We settled on The Gun Flint Saloon, which had several options for Dad.  I won’t bore you with all the issues that transpired (including, but not limited to, having 2 tables that were seated AFTER us receive their entrees and be halfway through their meals before Dad even got his soup appetizer.)  Let’s just say that the food was tasty, but the service was ABYSMAL! 

 

A lovely rose garden in Grand Marais.

After lunch, we went to Split Rock State Park to view the Lighthouse.  We learned the Lighthouse is operated by the Minnesota Historical Society and is a separate entity from the State Park. So, we were not required to pay the State Park fee, only the $12/adult entrance fee for the Lighthouse.  Prior to US-61 opening to tourism in 1924, this area was only accessible via boat.  Every year, boats would continue to make journeys later and later into the fall season.  Pushing the envelope proved disastrous on November 27, 1905.  A 12-hour storm from the South Dakota Plains came through, causing 33 fatalities and damaging 38 vessels at Split Rock Point.  In 1910, the government completed building this taxpayer-funded lighthouse.  Building supplies were shipped and hoisted up the cliff through a tramway system, of which we saw remnants when we hiked the Boardwalk Trail.  The Lighthouse was decommissioned in 1969 after being under the diligent care of 38 keepers and their families over its 59 years of service.

Looking up the stairs inside the lighthouse.

Photo taken from the shoreline below the Boardwalk Trail.

We traversed up and down the Boardwalk Trail, which ran parallel to the once-used tramway.

Lightkeepers' housing from back in the day.

 

The next itinerary item was hiking in Gooseberry Falls State Park.  The Falls here are multi-tiered and quite lovely.  Decades ago, A Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC) Camp existed on the grounds behind Upper Gooseberry Falls.  It’s hard to imagine with all the tree growth now.

Upper Gooseberry Falls

 

Lower Gooseberry Falls

Lastly, we visited Tettegouche State Park to hike to the Baptism River Falls, the tallest water falls entirely within Minnesota.  

As we hiked, I was fascinated watching this centipede take down a worm!  Look for yourself!

 

With the cold air coming off Lake Superior and the sprinkling of rain, I froze my buns off on the ride back to the motel after sundown.  (This is where my trash bag cannot compare to my parents' new Duluth Trading Company raingear).  But my discomfort was a small price to pay for the fun-filled, productive day of touring I enjoyed.

 

We scheduled our trip to the North Shore to coincide with the biennial 4-day Festival of Sails.  This is when the historic tall ships come to the Lake Superior harbor.  Typically, the Festival is held within Duluth, which has all the infrastructure (parking, eateries, lodging, etc.) needed to pull off an event that attracts more than 100,000 visitors.  However, due to waterfront construction in Duluth, the 2022 event was held in Two Harbors.  Consisting of only 3.28 square miles and a mere 3,600 residents, hosting the Festival proved to be too ambitious an undertaking for tiny Two Harbors.  It was the proverbial “who’s on first?” cluster of confusion.  They had tons of volunteers, but most were embarrassed and frustrated by the disorganization and lack of basic information/direction they received.

 

The chaos started with the directional signage for the various off-site parking lots from which guests were required to take shuttles.  We would turn following the arrow on a sign on the main road, then would never find another sign.  It turns out the powers-that-be had not finished putting up all the signs.  This was at 7:30 a.m., and the first shuttles were due to leave parking lots at 8 a.m.  Nothing like waiting until the last minute.  At least we weren’t the only folks confused.  We kept meeting up with another couple that was searching for the same parking lot we were. 

 

We finally found the parking area and boarded the shuttle.  But the shuttle driver didn’t know where to discharge his passengers.  He dropped us off and told everyone to go into a building to show our tickets.  Inside, the volunteers said we need to walk about 1/4 mile down the road.  We walked over to the specified area and were told that the area is only for vendors.  We were instructed to walk back almost to where we started.  Yeesh! 

 

Though we did not opt for the ticket to board the ships, we did pay to get on the dock to watch the vessels sail.  Yet, several volunteers denied us entry.  We finally found one gentleman who granted us access, acknowledging that we should get what we paid for.  It was fun watching the tall ships leave the harbor, though most did not use their sails.  We stayed on the dock awaiting the return of the ships, only to learn that 2 of the 4 vessels were not coming back into the harbor at all.  They had paying customers on board and were taking them on a tour.   

But the real kicker was when Customs and Border Patrol came down the dock and instructed all spectators to leave.  They had a Spanish flag ship they had to board and inspect.  What the heck!  Why didn’t they do that out at sea or at least wait for the other ships to return to the dock! 

Here's the culprit:

My favorite example of confusion, however, was a woman who claimed to “be in charge”.  She provided the response, “that’s a really good question” to a man who asked what time the shuttles would begin on subsequent days of the Festival.  But she never answered his query.   Instead, she just turned and walked away, never to return.  Who’s on first?  Not only was no one on first, these volunteers weren’t even in a ballpark!

 

We did have one unexpected highlight:  we watched a 1,000-foot Laker dock.  That Captain parked that sucker quicker than Mom can park Big Boomer, our medium duty truck!

 

Before departing Duluth, we drove over the Lake Avenue Bridge, which was just about to rise slightly to let a small boat through.  We stopped at the Minnesota Point Public Beach to dip our feet into Lake Superior.   With a surface area of 31,700 square miles, the Lake is comprised of 3 QUADTRILLION gallons of water.   The water temp registered a chilly 56F degrees, not as frigid as the Polar Bear Plunges at NJ beaches each January (typically mid-40F degrees), but cold for early August.  I was amazed at how the Lake created waves just like an ocean!  In fact, one local told us he has witnessed waves 35 feet in height!

 

We returned to Maximus the Trike and crossed over the state line, arriving at Wisconsin Point in Superior, Wisconsin.  The St. Louis River feeds Lake Superior in this area.  We parked by the lighthouse.  It is privately owned by a tech billionaire.  He apparently knows not what to do with his money, since the lighthouse remains abandoned.   We stopped at the Chippewa burial grounds.  Some of the bodies interred here initially were exhumed and moved.  However, based on artifacts left in the area, members of the Chippewa tribe still consider the area sacred.  So, out of respect, we refrained from taking photos.  Before we hit the road for our return to Marcell, we enjoyed an excellent veggie pizza at Toppers, a veteran-owned business in Superior.  How ironic to find a pizzeria within the proclaimed Cheese State that offers non-dairy cheese alternatives!

 

The break wall across from the lighthouse is Minnesota Point, the beach area that we visited just an hour earlier.

Out of respect, we did not take photos within the burial grounds.

Lovely house museum, which unfortunately was not open to take a tour.

Well, that concludes my final blogpost on our summer in Minnesota.  Our volunteer commitment at the Edge of the Wilderness Discovery Center had come to an end. Though we weren’t fortunate enough to witness the Aurora Borealis, we loved volunteering in and touring the Great North State.   I may never have seen a beaver here that wasn’t stuffed by a taxidermist or viewed a porcupine that wasn’t roadkill, but I was privy to many wonderful wildlife sightings.  This truly has been a Rambling RV Rat 5-cheese experience.

 

Tomorrow we hit the road to tour the San Luis Valley of Colorado.

Touring Voyageurs National Park (VNP), International Falls, Minnesota

We were excited to implement our plan to visit International Falls, home to Voyageurs National Park (VNP), during our days off from volunteering at the Edge of the Wilderness Discovery Center in Marcell, Minnesota.   We headed out by 8 a.m. on Maximus the Trike, traversing on MN-6.  It was a lonely drive for the first 45-minutes—only a half dozen other cars were traveling on either side of this roadway.   Then we reached Big Falls and the intersection with US-71.  While Dad fueled up Maximus, Mom and I read the interpretive signs.  Big Falls’ first European settler arrived from Scotland in 1877.  The town was originally named Ripple, but its name changed to Big Falls in 1904 when the town incorporated.  Its tagline is In the Heart of the Wilderness.  We visited the County Park in Big Falls, which is a hidden gem.  A beautiful setting overlooking small waterfalls, the Park contains 32 RV sites that have electric and water hookups.  A dump station is available as well.  Several of the sites are big-rig friendly, i.e., they could fit our Big Boomer/Suite Retreat set-up easily.  All for just $30/night.  Even better, you can book for a week ($180) or even a month at a time ($540).  Furthermore, I did a full inspection of their facilities and can report that the Park has ultra clean restrooms and showers if you need/want to use them. 

 

The "Falls" at Big Falls.

We drove the other hour to International Falls, arriving just as a storm was brewing.  This neck of the woods has suffered from an inordinate amount of rain and subsequent flooding this year, so much so that VNP has pushed back the commencement of Park boat rides from July 9 to July 17.  Bummer!  Our 3-day getaway here is over on July 14!  Oh well, we will do as much as we can on this visit.  We sought out a place for lunch, consulting Trip Advisor.  Unfortunately, 3 among the list of “best” eateries in International Falls are all shuttered and/or for sale. Seemingly, COVID lockdowns in 2020 and a drought in 2021 have severely impacted this tourist town of approximately 6,000 residents.  We settled on a small café, The Chocolate Moose, at which I suffered Disappointment #2:  They do not offer chocolate mousse on their dessert menu!  It was while eating a rather mundane meal that I learned another disturbing fact: There are NO falls to be seen in International Falls!  What!  How can that be?  Apparently, the local paper mill dammed the Rainy River in 1905, which caused the falls to submerge into the reservoir.  And to top it off, up until 1903 the town was known as Koochiching (the Ojibwe Indian word for mist over water). This Rat feels it should be a criminal offense to call the town International Falls, knowing full well there are no falls here.  Talk about false advertisement!

 

Fortunately, my tirade subsided when my parents brought me to Smokey Bear Park.  I took my photo with the towering 26-foot statue of my favorite forest firefighting hero, with his timeless message, “Only you can prevent forest fires.”  We walked along the business district, with my parents stopping to support a local shop.   Mom just couldn’t resist purchasing matching hoodies for her and Dad on a clearance rack BOGO (buy 1, get 1 free) sale.   Plus, Minnesota has no sales tax on clothing. Thanks, Mom, for saving some money and protecting my cheese inheritance!

 

Me with my fav forest firefighting hero and his pals.

 

Last shop before crossing into Canada.

We got to the Hilltop Lodge and Cabins for check-in just as the downpour began.    We were welcomed by Ryan and Amanda, a young couple who left Corporate hospitality jobs in 2019 to operate their own lodging outfit.  There are no employees here—Ryan and Amanda do it all—from cleaning to reservations.  And a great job they do on all tasks.  It is so nice to see people realize their American Dream.  I loved our rustic cabin!  It might look small, but it had every amenity we could want or need:  fridge, microwave, dinette, cable TV, and Wi-Fi.  Our $99/night rate even included a continental breakfast.  We ate dinner that evening at The Library, an eatery surrounded by literary works.  It was lighter fare, but Dad had vegan options, and all our selections were tasty and reasonably priced.  I slept fitfully, with a full belly and a happy heart.

 

Our little cabin--so cute!

An outdoor seating area for the cabins.

A very inviting setting at "The Library" eatery.

Early the next morning, we headed towards VNP, stopping along the way to visit the statue of Big Vic in the Village of Ranier.  Big Vic is a symbol of protest that stems from the National Park Service (NPS) using eminent domain to confiscate people’s private property to create VNP.  Those property owners who did not wish to sell their property to the NPS were subjected suddenly to condemnation or limitations on the use of their lands.  Vic Davis, along with others, believed this was government overreach.  So, he sued the government.  But the powers-that-be just printed more money, giving them unlimited resources to countersue.  Mr. Davis then came up with a way to inconvenience the NPS:  he purchased the island of Little Cranberry and sold small parcels to others for a mere $20/parcel, inundating the NPS with paperwork and additional landowners with whom to negotiate purchases.  Furthermore, he commissioned the creation of the Big Vic statue, which once stood proudly on Cranberry Island as a big middle finger to the NPS.   Eventually, the NPS won the land acquisition war, but not without a good fight from Vic Davis.  We walked a bit around the rest of the historic village, but the place was a ghost town.  Most of the businesses were sandbagged and the docks underwater from recent flooding.

 

The Statue of Big Vic.

A quaint country chapel...

The Village of Ranier was still underwater in mid-July.

Water cisterns sit on top of Ranier docks to keep them from floating away!

We arrived at the Rainy Lake Visitor Center within VNP.  I collected my Junior Ranger booklet, watched not 1, but 2 very interesting films, and enjoyed chatting with the Park volunteers.  VNP consists of 218,000 acres, the majority of which are waterways.  The Ojibwe Indians frequented this area, building birch canoes for their semi-nomadic lifestyle.  They hunted, fished, gathered, and traded here.  Furthermore, for nearly 200 years, employees of the Northwest and Hudson Bay Company traveled 3,000 miles each summer to trade goods for furs.  They rowed 16 hours a day, 50 minutes each hour.  That is one major workout!  Then when they encountered waterfalls, they had to portage over land, each carrying a 90-pound bag for several miles over primitive terrain—and they still had to return for the canoe!  These voyageurs had plenty of strength, endurance, and good spirits (both in attitude and alcoholic beverages). 

Family photo with Monte the Moose!

One of the Visitor Center's interesting exhibits.

VNP is open year-round, offering a completely different experience in winter, with its trees glistening in a blanket of white and frozen waterways that become the “roads” for snowmobiles.  I sure would like to see that someday!

 

We departed the Rainy Lake Visitor Center and walked along the paved Recreational Trail under ominous clouds.  But the sun won its battle to shine. So, we continued to trek, this time along the Oberholtzer Loop Trail, sampling a wild raspberry or two along the way.  Unfortunately, we could not complete this hike because part of the trail was submerged and other sections were impassible due to downed trees.  So, we did some backtracking.  We saw a little wildlife:  a red squirrel, a gull, a few tiny tree frogs, and one Super Ant who singlehandedly moved a dead worm.  We also caught a glimpse of a blue heron and eagle as they flew overhead.

I was gonna sit at this viewing bench along the trail--but it was completely submerged.

Downed trees made the rest of the Oberholtzer Loop Trail impassible.  Time to back-track.

 

Butterfly enjoying some nectar.

The next day we visited the Ash River Visitor Center, hiking along its Blind Ash Bay Trail and a portion of its Kab-Ash Trail.  We visited the Beaver Pond Overlook.  I was told the beaver population in VNP is prolific.  Though I saw many fine examples of their handiwork and lodge craftsmanship, I spotted not 1 busy beaver.  Bummer!

Inside the Ash River Visitor Center.

A rustic cabin on the property.

I searched for beavers...

...but only saw their handiwork.

Mom's favorite:  daisies!

Dad wished he could trailer the boat and put it in the water for us to take a tour!

We also stopped at the Kabetogama Visitor Center, but there was nothing much to do/see that was different from the offerings at the other 2 Centers, though we enjoyed chatting with Ann/Paul, folks from the Twin Cities that we kept intersecting with over the course of our 3-day visit.

 

Yours truly with the walleye.

We dined each day at Thunderbird Lodge, which was just starting to remove flood-protection sandbags from its property.  The outdoor patio of the restaurant had been 7 feet underwater just a week earlier.  Furthermore, a section of MN-11 right near the Lodge had been washed out and a temporary road installed.  With limited options, this became our go-to eatery for the rest of this trip and our subsequent visit to VNP in August. Yes, water levels receded finally, so we got to return for a Grand Tour boat ride just days before leaving Minnesota.  And it was terrific!  The Ranger gave a wonderful narrative over the 2.5-hour ride, touching on all aspects of the Park:  its wildlife, mining history, Ojibwe inhabitants, botany, and the Voyageurs for whom the Park is named.     Here’s a sampling of what I learned: American Island was the only profitable gold mine in all of Northern Minnesota; There are about 18 varieties of trees in the Park; The Tamarac is the only tree that belongs to both the conifer and deciduous groups because it drops all its pine needles once a year; Due to conservation efforts, the Park increased its mated pairs of bald eagles from 6 to 42;  Maple sugar and wild rice were valuable commodities with which the Ojibwe traded.  Taking this boat tour helped me complete my Junior Ranger requirements, scoring yours truly another badge!

 

Some of the other guests at Thunderbird Lodge.

Rainy is a regular at the Thunderbird Lodge.

Ready to sail!

VNP has native, invasive, and hybrid cattails.

The smallest island within Voyageurs National Park.

What was once a commercial fish camp operated by Harry Oveson.

We docked at American Island, a mining site.

What was once the mine shaft on American Island. 

View from the shores of American Island.

Considering that Minnesota has the largest population of breeding eagles in the contiguous U.S., they were eluding us for the longest time.  But I’m excited to say that we viewed at least ½ dozen of them while on this boat tour!

 

See the nest on this tree?

One of the many eagles we spotted while on the boat trip.

We could now cross touring VNP off our bucket list!

We visited several more places while volunteering in Minnesota, which I’ll tell you about in my next post.  Talk to you soon!