Cross Country to Lilly Lake
[Note: Lilly lake is located in the northern half of the Feldtmann loop.]

Preface
My first trip to Isle Royale in September 1999 was prompted by the devastation of the July Fourth 1999 storm. Prior to the 1999 blow down I had usually hiked in the BWCA.

October and November had been my favorite months for hiking in the BWCA. I preferred back country areas. When well away from the beaten path I could no longer hear the shots of grouse hunters and since I was bushwhacking I encountered no one. I admit that on one occasion I managed to get 'temporarily disorientated' for a couple of days. Interestingly even with a fully equipped home on my back the experience produced a peculiar ill-at-ease feeling in my belly. I carried topo maps and a compass. However beavers had so thoroughly altered the landscape that the maps were only useful in a very general sense. Trails disappeared into beaver ponds. Walking for hundreds of yards on intersecting beaver dams left one disoriented. I also learned the futility of using a map and compass when visibility is limited and there are no prominent land marks. I got a GPS after my first trip.

Over the past three years I have hiked all the non-dead-end trails on Isle Royale. The hikes were usually made the first or last few ferry trips of each year. Bugs and heat encountered during my one June trip taught me the advantages of cool weather hiking. Now I was ready for a cross country hike on Isle Royale. I had noticed Lilly Lake on the topo maps located in the loop of the Feldtmann trail. Its proximity to Red Oak Ridge made it a reasonable objective.

The Plan
A second cousin-in-law, Andy, was interested in going along. Andy is an amicable hiking companion, half my age, and with most of his hiking experience in warmer climates. This would be his first Isle Royale trip. I suspected the IR rangers would consider two hikers to be the optimal size group for back country camping. Enough for safety but small for minimal impact.

We planned to hike along the Red Oak Ridge between the Island Mine and Feldtmann trails. It looked like nice high country free of swamps. Of course water might be a problem on the ridge tops. Lilly Lake and Grace Creek were the only certain water sources. The plan was to carry as little water as possible and have meals near water sources.

We would arrive at Windigo on October 9th and return on the October 13th ferry. Our first night would be at Island Mine, the second night on the southern shores of Lilly Lake, the third night most of the way to the Feldtmann trail to the south west, and our last night in a shelter at Windigo. The pace would be leisurely. The bail out plan in case of trouble was to head north to the Greenstone after we were past Lilly Lake. The Greenstone is too obvious a trail to miss, even if it snowed. We would plan on cold weather.

Day one
Well I'm ashamed to say we missed the boat. It was entirely my fault. I had a senior moment and we arrived with the Voyageur about four hundred yards away headed out to Lake Superior. We held little hope we would be seen but waved anyway. Fortunately they saw us and returned to pick us up. This was my seventh trip and first screw up. Thank you Capt. Ryan, it won't happen again.

There were only about a dozen of us on the boat. When we got to Windigo about half  the passengers stayed there and half went on to other stops. We talked to the ranger, laid out our plans, and got a back country permit. We headed out for Island Mine with partly cloudy weather and temperatures in the mid fifties. Excellent hiking weather. I have hiked from Island Mine down to Windigo several times. It is surprising how much more difficult the reverse route is. Rains in the past week had made water plentiful but the trail was not soggy. We set up our tents at Island Mine and ate our heaviest food for supper.

Day two
Morning was dry, clear, and crisp. We left Island mine and headed south along the trail until reaching the top of Red Oak ridge. Leaving the trail at a bearing of 242 degrees we started for the highest visible point. This was to be our way of navigation for the days to come. Depending on the terrain and vegetation we could see thirty to sixty yards to our southwest. Following the ridge line was not as strait forward as it sounds. This ridge was gently rounded with dips and multiple hillocks. The underbrush had not cleared as much as I had hoped but mid October is the end of the ferry runs for the year.

Only a few hundred yards from the Island Mine trail we encountered and old road bed. We did not follow it since it deviated to the south away from the ridge tops but the temptation to see where the road went was sure there( next trip maybe). We occasionally followed moose trails when their direction converged with ours. The leaves and snapping twigs of our passage announced our presence to all creatures within hundreds of yards. There were occasional bare rock openings where views of Lake Superior to the south were available.

Water was a concern when planning the trip and we carried enough to get us to Lilly Lake. This was not too burdensome since the cool weather and easy pace minimized our water requirements. Surprisingly there were several opportunities for water, small ponds and bogs, if we had needed it, even though we were traveling along the ridge top.

Lunch was in a post card perfect setting. Bright yellow leaves contrasted with the deep blue sky. The sun was warm. The temptation was to loiter. After a leisurely lunch we once again followed the highest land south west.
 
In late afternoon the waters of Lilly Lake showed through the trees. A few minutes later we were at our intended destination on it's south shore. Actually shore is not the right word. We were at the edge of the trees and fifty yards of bog separated us from the open waters of the lake.  We had accomplished our goal and navigated exactly to the south end of the lake. Thanks to perfect weather it has been a delightful hike in beautiful country.  We had only occasionally used our compass. Every few hours the GPS was checked. That was not out of need but for practice. We would soon need the practice.

We filled up our water containers. We would carry their full weight only a few hundred yards to our camp. After preparing breakfast the next morning we would discard any excess and only be carrying a quart of water each till we filled up again at lunch the next day.

Camp was on an elevated flat area a few hundred yards south west of the lake. We were ankle deep in crisp leaves. Perfect weather, lows in the mid forties, dry and clear.

Once again it was travel from high point to high point heading south west. We came upon the bones of an old moose pelvis, probably from last winter. There were no other bones in evidence and no sign of a moose hide. Its amazing how thoroughly such a large animal is completely recycled.

We planned to drop down to Grace creek for water and a late lunch. The point where we wanted to hit the creek did not show any bog around it on the topo map. Well the creek was right where it was supposed to be. We happened on an ideal sheltered spot with easy access to water. The water was so clear it looked like the platypus?) were full of tap water. The pita, cheese, and bacon sandwiches were a hit. I had found some precooked no refrigeration required  bacon in the grocery store the week before. It was good. Next time I'll bring along some veggies to add to the sandwich. The walk from Grace Creek back up the hill with full water bottles was far less enjoyable than our easy descent to the creek. Once again we headed up to the highest point of land.

Half an hour before dark we stopped to set up camp. It was getting quite windy. The weather had been perfect so any change had to be for the worst. After setting up the tents and tarp we settled down for freeze dried supper, our first freeze dried food of the trip. A four inch long salamander joined us. It was predominantly black with some small red markings. Here it was mid October and the weather was still warm enough for the little fellow.

I use a tiny (two ounces including the single AAA battery) radio for weather forecasts. Our position on the ridge line gave excellent reception once the sun went down. I listened to the nine o'clock weather just before dropping off. The forecast was for rain. I carry a siltarp to make life easier if it rains. Each night we had set it up and each night it had not been needed. It looked like that was about to change.

Day four
We woke up to a gentle but steady rain. There was no wind and it was not really cold. I like to get off to an early start when the weather is promising. When its raining there are a hundred excuses for not getting going. ('I think its clearing up, why don't we wait.') The tarp provided a large dry area for a leisurely breakfast. Our plan was to make it back to a shelter at Windigo that day so packing up a wet tent wasn't too unpleasant an idea. None the less we moved real slow that morning. The last item packed away was the siltarp. It was still raining as we headed south west. Now we needed the compass to maintain a heading. The skies were a uniform gray. The sun was so dulled that it provided no sense of direction.

The first half hour the going had been similar to the last two days, only wetter. Then the deciduous trees slowly thinned out and cedars began to predominate. Everything was thoroughly soaked. We too were becoming wetter. The rain was not hard, just constant. We increasingly encountered dead falls. Visibility dropped to just a few yards in places.
When an opening in the forest canopy was detected it did not mean easier going, it meant lots of trees were down. In places the ground was not really ground. It was a web of roots suspended above a mud hole. Did I mention it was raining?  Throw a leg and arm over a downed tree and slime your way over the top. Next it was crouch down to try and slide under the next tree a few feet away. There were times it took twenty minutes to cover one hundred yards. Visibility was so limited the topo map was of little help.

The GPS would not get a reading. For the past few days when we did not need it, it worked perfectly. The leaves were down and the skies overhead had been clear. Now that we did need the GPS we were in cedar woods and there was heavy cloud cover.

Our goal was the old Feldtmann trail. We encountered one very old trail that just faded away into the brush. Bushwhacking west we finally encountered a trail worthy of the name. It was old and partially overgrown, clearly not the Feldtmann but was none the less a trail. And it was headed in the right direction. It was slow wet going. Once the water and muck was knee deep on me it didn't matter if my boots were technically waterproof or not. Andy being a lightweight had far fewer problems. I watched him dance quickly from hummock to log to dry spot. Obviously I needed to transfer some gear from my pack to his( and perhaps tie his boot laces together). We followed the very boggy trail to the north west for half a mile until we encountered Grace Creek.

At lunch the day before Grace Creek had been about ten feet wide and ten inches deep. At this point it was two to three feet deep and twenty feet wide. There was no bridge. Grace Creek was the last obstacle between us and Windigo. I entertained the thought of wading across and in the process rinsing my pants and boots of the accumulated muck. The unknown was how deep was the mud on the bottom of the creek. About a hundred yards down stream we found one large log that crossed the creek. Looking further west we could not see a bridge across Grace Creek. We were still a least several hundred yards east of the Feldtmann trail. A couple of long impromptu walking sticks helped us cross the log and the last obstacle was out of the way. As we descended the ridge down to Washington harbor we merged into the Feldtmann trail. The Feldtmann trail was a super highway compared to the trail we had been walking. Looking back up the hill we couldn't see the old trail we had just taken. Half an hour later we were at the shelter.

We hung our wet gear up to dry in the breeze and fixed a huge chicken & noodle supper. The temperature had dropped twenty degrees over the last few hours and by sunset it was in the mid thirties. The dry wind quickly dried our gear but added to the chill. In circumstances like this the shelters are not as warm as a tent. We were in luck however. The shelter had precisely spaced nails along the inside wall that exactly fit grommets in the 8x10 siltarp. Someone had done this before. We were able to tie down and weigh down the bottom of the siltarp and the shelter became much more livable. Andy set up his tent in the shelter. This added a little more warmth and dried the tent out completely.

Day five
Winds had really started to kick up with the rising sun. Snow squalls (our first snow of the season) came and went every half hour. In between squalls there were patches of blue sky. It was cold. We packed our now bone dry gear and headed for the ranger station concerned about the weather and the ferry. At the ranger station Steve radioed the Voyageur and Capt. Ryan replied they were taking shelter from high winds and poor visibility but they expected to arrive shortly.  Half an hour later the Voyageur arrived. Our departure was delayed a few hours due to the winds. About three o'clock with a dozen people on board the Voyageur started for Grand Portage.

Once we were out of the shelter of Isle Royale the ride got real interesting. The waves seemed to come from several directions at once. The biggest were swells from the port quarter but there were other waves producing what I believe is called a 'confused sea'. I however was not confused. I wanted to go back to Windigo. The problem was how could you turn the boat around bringing it broadside to the swells without, well you know. Ryan slowed the boat till it was just steer able and we stayed like that for a few minutes going into the swells. Then Ryan gunned the motors and deftly turned us around. No big swell hit us. I don't know if he counted waves, or timed them, or could see what was coming but it was clearly skill and not chance at work. As we entered the sheltered waters tension levels returned to normal.  Back at Windigo we agreed to try again at 5:45 the next morning.

Ranger Steve let us use the radio phone to call home. It worked quite well. Our brief sojourn into Lake Superior left everyone happy to be on dry land. I heard no sour grapes about spending the night from anyone.

We returned to the same shelter as the night before and erected the siltarp. Four others joined us in the shelter. The shelter was just the right size for six. That night three stoves  cooking supper raised temperatures in the shelter to a comfortable level.

Day Six
At the 5:15 alarm it took only fifteen minutes to get up and clear out of the shelter. We were at the dock at 5:40. There was not a whisper of a breeze. It was cold! The water was so glassy and dark, the stars reflected so well, it was hard to tell where water ended and sky began. On the return to Grand Portage the sun rose over Lake Superior and the wind rose with it. Fortunately by the time the swells got interesting we were only a few minutes from Grand Portage. Our cross country hike to Lilly Lake and further adventures were now lifetime memories.

Written by David Owen
(C)Copyright 2002 All Rights Reserved