Rodale sells backpacking magazine
Rodale Inc. of Emmaus sold its Backpacker Magazine to Active Interest Media Inc. for an undisclosed amount, the companies said today.
Active Media, of El Segundo, Calif., publishes enthusiast magazines and books, holds consumer shows, and operates Internet sites.
Backpacker, founded in 1973, has a circulation of 340,000 for its nine issues per year. The magazine provides information about backcountry adventure in North America and focuses on hiking trails, camping gear and survival tips.
"The sale of Backpacker will allow Rodale to focus its resources on long-term growth and further strengthen the position of its business and brands in the health, fitness, and wellness space," said Steven Pleshette Murphy, Rodale's president and chief executive.
Jonathan Dorn, Backpacker's editor-in-chief, will join Active Media, which has 13 magazines in the fields of healthy living, marine, homebuyer and Western art/living.
Rodale publishes health, fitness and wellness publications with a combined circulation of about 40 million monthly. It also is a book publisher and operates Internet sites.
Monday, May 28, 2007
Backpacking with kids
By Dan Vierra Sacramento Bee
Think it might be a major challenge to persuade your online kids to sample an on-trail adventure? Author Tim Hauserman makes it sound easy (and fun) in "Monsters in the Woods" (University of Nevada Press, $15.95, 137 pages). The monsters, of course, are the kids.With humor, Hauserman lays out strategies and advice for parents to help motivate kids to get out into the wild. The reward is a great time with Dad, so he says."To me, backpacking with my children is by far the best time I spend with them," Hauserman writes.He had no problem persuading his two daughters, although he learned what works best. Instead of taking both on a trip, he prefers bringing one and her friend. He also invites the friend’s father.What do I pack? Can I take the dog? Is an infant too young to take backpacking? All these are addressed in this comprehensive how-to of family adventures.Hauserman, who lives in northern California, also wrote "The Tahoe Rim Trail: A Complete Guide for Hikers, Mountain Bikers, and Equestrians" (Wilderness Press, $15.95, 160 pages). He knows his backpacking trails and has great hopes for the younger, high-tech generation.During a field trip to Mono Lake with one daughter, an American Indian medicine man related to the school group how he had been taught to appreciate nature as a child and how he learned to be "part of the river" while fishing."Will our children ever learn that level of appreciation for nature?" Hauserman writes. "Probably not, but if we can help them learn to love nature and understand it, we will be doing them and the planet a great service."
Think it might be a major challenge to persuade your online kids to sample an on-trail adventure? Author Tim Hauserman makes it sound easy (and fun) in "Monsters in the Woods" (University of Nevada Press, $15.95, 137 pages). The monsters, of course, are the kids.With humor, Hauserman lays out strategies and advice for parents to help motivate kids to get out into the wild. The reward is a great time with Dad, so he says."To me, backpacking with my children is by far the best time I spend with them," Hauserman writes.He had no problem persuading his two daughters, although he learned what works best. Instead of taking both on a trip, he prefers bringing one and her friend. He also invites the friend’s father.What do I pack? Can I take the dog? Is an infant too young to take backpacking? All these are addressed in this comprehensive how-to of family adventures.Hauserman, who lives in northern California, also wrote "The Tahoe Rim Trail: A Complete Guide for Hikers, Mountain Bikers, and Equestrians" (Wilderness Press, $15.95, 160 pages). He knows his backpacking trails and has great hopes for the younger, high-tech generation.During a field trip to Mono Lake with one daughter, an American Indian medicine man related to the school group how he had been taught to appreciate nature as a child and how he learned to be "part of the river" while fishing."Will our children ever learn that level of appreciation for nature?" Hauserman writes. "Probably not, but if we can help them learn to love nature and understand it, we will be doing them and the planet a great service."
Backpacking 101--Women on the Trail
ANNE CHALFANT: TICKET TO RIDE
Enthusiastic hiker definitely walks the walks
I STEPPED INTO Peet’s Coffee and Tea looking for a tanned woman — a serious hiker I was about to interview. I was sure she would be decked out in multipocketed khaki pants. After all, Susan Alcorn, of Oakland, spends her time tromping trails — and right after our interview was heading for an overnight backpack trip on Sunol’s Ohlone Trail.
But the woman who answered to my "Susan?" was dressed in black slacks and a black-and-white checked jacket, looking like a schoolteacher.
Alcorn had in fact been a elementary schoolteacher in Hercules in the 1990s. But following her divorce, she expanded her interest in hiking, taking the sport up at age 48 with Sierra Club-sponsored hikes.
One good thing led to another — in this case a new husband whom she met on one of those outdoor outings. Ralph Alcorn, who had grown up in Yellowstone National Park, was game to go along with Susan’s yearning to expand their hiking to backpacking. That led the couple eventually to a trek to the top of Africa’s 19,335-foot Mount Kilimanjaro. The Alcorns have also hiked the famous pilgrimage trail, Santiago de Compostela, in Spain and have covered most of the Pacific Crest Trail, which stretches from Canada to Mexico.
Susan Alcorn is now 66 and Ralph Alcorn is 71.
Keep on hikin’
So what makes the Alcorns keep on hiking these days?
All the usual "because it’s there" reasons apply.
But Susan Alcorn also notes how empowering it is for women to feel the self-sufficiency of
making their way in the wilderness. That’s a theme Alcorn explored in an earlier book, "We’re in the Mountains, Not Over the Hill" — a book of essays by backpacking women, which Alcorn edited and self-published under her imprint Shepherd Canyon Press.
The Alcorns also hike because, "You can go places you couldn’t go otherwise," Susan notes. To practice for their longer outings, they prowl the trails of East Bay Regional Parks, of which Susan says, "We’re so lucky here."
Fingers do the walking
Alcorn also hikes so she can write about it. Her book "Camino Chronicle: Walking to Santiago" (Shepherd Canyon, $14.95) is a finalist for the prestigious Benjamin Franklin Award, sponsored by the Independent Book Publishers Association. The book chronicles the Alcorns’ experience along the trail, and outlines the history of the ancient pilgrimage route. The trail was a newsmaker when the likes of Charlemagne walked it, and it continues to attract thousands of pilgrims still today, including actress Shirley MacLaine and presidential daughter Jenna Bush. The trail leads to Compostela de Santiago, where the bones of the apostle St. James are in the crypt.
Villagers along the trail, Alcorn notes, are very supportive of hikers. The same holds true for Pacific Crest Trail hikers in the United States along which "trail angels" drop food and water, or answer Internet postings to drive hikers 100 miles to the trail.
Heavy on the shoulders
The difficulty of carrying enough food and water is a big issue for backpackers. At one point on the PCT the Alcorns went 10 days before refueling. Yet Susan — whose shoulders are slight — is only comfortable carrying a 25-pound pack. That’s not a lot when you think of food, water, cooking utensils, medical supplies and a sleeping bag. Ralph picks up the slack with their sleeping tarp and extra food and water.
I must say, I have yet to meet the woman who loves shouldering a backpack, so it impresses me to talk to one who is even willing.
So what does Alcorn miss the most when she’s out tromping the wilderness?
"Salads and showers," she said promptly.
And the most unexpected thing you will find in her pack?
"An umbrella." She goes on to describe a lightweight version that gets them through both rainstorms and brain-frying heat, such as what they found on the Mojave desert.
And what does the Montclair woman do to survive those many sweaty days with no showers?
"Baby wipes," she said.
Anne Chalfant is a travel editor.
Enthusiastic hiker definitely walks the walks
I STEPPED INTO Peet’s Coffee and Tea looking for a tanned woman — a serious hiker I was about to interview. I was sure she would be decked out in multipocketed khaki pants. After all, Susan Alcorn, of Oakland, spends her time tromping trails — and right after our interview was heading for an overnight backpack trip on Sunol’s Ohlone Trail.
But the woman who answered to my "Susan?" was dressed in black slacks and a black-and-white checked jacket, looking like a schoolteacher.
Alcorn had in fact been a elementary schoolteacher in Hercules in the 1990s. But following her divorce, she expanded her interest in hiking, taking the sport up at age 48 with Sierra Club-sponsored hikes.
One good thing led to another — in this case a new husband whom she met on one of those outdoor outings. Ralph Alcorn, who had grown up in Yellowstone National Park, was game to go along with Susan’s yearning to expand their hiking to backpacking. That led the couple eventually to a trek to the top of Africa’s 19,335-foot Mount Kilimanjaro. The Alcorns have also hiked the famous pilgrimage trail, Santiago de Compostela, in Spain and have covered most of the Pacific Crest Trail, which stretches from Canada to Mexico.
Susan Alcorn is now 66 and Ralph Alcorn is 71.
Keep on hikin’
So what makes the Alcorns keep on hiking these days?
All the usual "because it’s there" reasons apply.
But Susan Alcorn also notes how empowering it is for women to feel the self-sufficiency of
making their way in the wilderness. That’s a theme Alcorn explored in an earlier book, "We’re in the Mountains, Not Over the Hill" — a book of essays by backpacking women, which Alcorn edited and self-published under her imprint Shepherd Canyon Press.
The Alcorns also hike because, "You can go places you couldn’t go otherwise," Susan notes. To practice for their longer outings, they prowl the trails of East Bay Regional Parks, of which Susan says, "We’re so lucky here."
Fingers do the walking
Alcorn also hikes so she can write about it. Her book "Camino Chronicle: Walking to Santiago" (Shepherd Canyon, $14.95) is a finalist for the prestigious Benjamin Franklin Award, sponsored by the Independent Book Publishers Association. The book chronicles the Alcorns’ experience along the trail, and outlines the history of the ancient pilgrimage route. The trail was a newsmaker when the likes of Charlemagne walked it, and it continues to attract thousands of pilgrims still today, including actress Shirley MacLaine and presidential daughter Jenna Bush. The trail leads to Compostela de Santiago, where the bones of the apostle St. James are in the crypt.
Villagers along the trail, Alcorn notes, are very supportive of hikers. The same holds true for Pacific Crest Trail hikers in the United States along which "trail angels" drop food and water, or answer Internet postings to drive hikers 100 miles to the trail.
Heavy on the shoulders
The difficulty of carrying enough food and water is a big issue for backpackers. At one point on the PCT the Alcorns went 10 days before refueling. Yet Susan — whose shoulders are slight — is only comfortable carrying a 25-pound pack. That’s not a lot when you think of food, water, cooking utensils, medical supplies and a sleeping bag. Ralph picks up the slack with their sleeping tarp and extra food and water.
I must say, I have yet to meet the woman who loves shouldering a backpack, so it impresses me to talk to one who is even willing.
So what does Alcorn miss the most when she’s out tromping the wilderness?
"Salads and showers," she said promptly.
And the most unexpected thing you will find in her pack?
"An umbrella." She goes on to describe a lightweight version that gets them through both rainstorms and brain-frying heat, such as what they found on the Mojave desert.
And what does the Montclair woman do to survive those many sweaty days with no showers?
"Baby wipes," she said.
Anne Chalfant is a travel editor.
Wednesday, May 9, 2007
Backpacking 101--Physicist Gives Advice
No car, no house, no electricity, no job — it’s a liberating feeling.
Hiking, backpacking and mountain climbing improve your fitness level. We humans are animals, and as such, we have muscles to use. A host of diseases affect those who do not use those muscles.
When you backpack, you can eat like a pig and still lose weight. I started out with a 65-pound pack when my wife and I backpacked the Wonderland Trail around Mt. Rainier. When we finished 10 days later, we were down to our last few peanuts and raisins, and my pack weighed about 40 pounds. We each lost five pounds in body weight.
When you die, you cannot bring money or material goods with you. You carry forth only memories of your experiences. The struggles I’ve put my body through, whether it’s climbing a mountain or trudging to a campsite after a long day of backpacking, have exalted my spirit and imprinted lifelong memories.
One such memory is from my Mt. Rainier climb. We left Camp Muir (elevation 10,000 feet) at about 3:30 on an August morning, climbing in the dark over Cowlitz Glacier, Cathedral Rocks and then Ingraham Glacier. Taking a break, we saw the sun rise over Little Tahoma. It was like watching the world being born below us, the day coming alive in the cycle of death and rebirth.
True, there are tribulations, such as no plumbed toilets in the backcountry (one exception is Bright Angel Campground in the Grand Canyon). Answering nature’s call can be a mini-adventure in itself.
Nature is not a benign environment. Weather and predators can kill. Cougars have been known to stalk humans. It’s a good idea to carry a folding or sheathed knife with at least a four-inch blade. The folding knife must be capable of opening with a snap of the wrist. One survivor on Vancouver Island suffered bites to his neck because he needed both hands to open his knife to kill the cougar that was attacking him.
Be receptive to your experiences outdoors.
From the interior of the inland forests, Highway 101 southbound on the Olympic Peninsula suddenly bursts into the gray-white expanse of the Pacific at Ruby Beach. It is like coming out of a tunnel, or coming out of the womb. The trees have given way to the cathedral ceiling of sky. Now there is more light — a flat, gray light that reflects off the clouds, the gray-green ocean and the gray sand. The quiet of the forest has given way to winter’s thunderous clap of surf, a surge-and-give that rolls over sand and driftwood, eating away at the coast to leave behind sea stacks — hard rock islands of the previous shoreline.
Such moments are little epiphanies. As a physicist-turned-writer, I find that they occur more and more for me in the natural world, on that edge of experience where the mind is alert with the possibilities of remembrance. The moments pass quickly enough, but I’ve learned to recognize them.
Go out and recognize yours.
Hiking, backpacking and mountain climbing improve your fitness level. We humans are animals, and as such, we have muscles to use. A host of diseases affect those who do not use those muscles.
When you backpack, you can eat like a pig and still lose weight. I started out with a 65-pound pack when my wife and I backpacked the Wonderland Trail around Mt. Rainier. When we finished 10 days later, we were down to our last few peanuts and raisins, and my pack weighed about 40 pounds. We each lost five pounds in body weight.
When you die, you cannot bring money or material goods with you. You carry forth only memories of your experiences. The struggles I’ve put my body through, whether it’s climbing a mountain or trudging to a campsite after a long day of backpacking, have exalted my spirit and imprinted lifelong memories.
One such memory is from my Mt. Rainier climb. We left Camp Muir (elevation 10,000 feet) at about 3:30 on an August morning, climbing in the dark over Cowlitz Glacier, Cathedral Rocks and then Ingraham Glacier. Taking a break, we saw the sun rise over Little Tahoma. It was like watching the world being born below us, the day coming alive in the cycle of death and rebirth.
True, there are tribulations, such as no plumbed toilets in the backcountry (one exception is Bright Angel Campground in the Grand Canyon). Answering nature’s call can be a mini-adventure in itself.
Nature is not a benign environment. Weather and predators can kill. Cougars have been known to stalk humans. It’s a good idea to carry a folding or sheathed knife with at least a four-inch blade. The folding knife must be capable of opening with a snap of the wrist. One survivor on Vancouver Island suffered bites to his neck because he needed both hands to open his knife to kill the cougar that was attacking him.
Be receptive to your experiences outdoors.
From the interior of the inland forests, Highway 101 southbound on the Olympic Peninsula suddenly bursts into the gray-white expanse of the Pacific at Ruby Beach. It is like coming out of a tunnel, or coming out of the womb. The trees have given way to the cathedral ceiling of sky. Now there is more light — a flat, gray light that reflects off the clouds, the gray-green ocean and the gray sand. The quiet of the forest has given way to winter’s thunderous clap of surf, a surge-and-give that rolls over sand and driftwood, eating away at the coast to leave behind sea stacks — hard rock islands of the previous shoreline.
Such moments are little epiphanies. As a physicist-turned-writer, I find that they occur more and more for me in the natural world, on that edge of experience where the mind is alert with the possibilities of remembrance. The moments pass quickly enough, but I’ve learned to recognize them.
Go out and recognize yours.
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Backpacking 101 Grand Canyon
At 3:30 a.m. on a mid-June morning my 13-year old daughter, Gina, and I strapped on a fully loaded backpack for the first time.We were about to hike to the bottom of the Grand Canyon.Don’t shake your head at our naivete - my husband and son, both experienced backpackers, were with us, too. Husband Brad and 15-year-old son Zachary had plenty of backpacking experience through Boy Scouts.Postcards and guidebooks are no substitute for being there, so with back-country camping permit in hand, we boarded the 4 a.m. shuttle bus to the South Kaibab trailhead.We set out, and after a brief descent we reached Ooh Ah Point at sunrise. It was aptly named.After watching the sun rise, the hikers we had arrived with each set off down the trail at their own pace.A few hikers carried nothing but water, having sent their gear down by mule, and they seemed to fairly sprint down the trail.Most, however, were like us, laden with full backpacks, hiking boots and trekking poles (don’t leave the rim without them).Zachary was our family’s fastest hiker, Brad and Gina were fairly evenly matched in the middle, and I always brought up the rear with the shortest legs and the biggest camera. How much weight is being carried in a backpack is a huge consideration on an adventure such as this, but we opted to redistribute some food and necessities to bring along our bigger digital camera. We have never regretted the decision.There is no water on South Kaibab trail, but we were prepared and completed the trail to the bottom in about 5½ hours, enjoying every step of the way.The single rattlesnake heard and spotted was never really a threat.After a refreshing dip in the Colorado River, we proceeded to Bright Angel Campground where we set up camp next to Bright Angel Creek. Though it was extremely warm, we spent the afternoon exploring the area (complete with deer, not-so-wild wild turkeys and the mule corral), relaxing in the creek, and enjoying lemonade in nearby Phantom Ranch cantina, complete with hardworking air conditioner. Phantom Ranch was built in the early part of the 1900s as tourist lodgings. It’s still in use, and a must-see piece of Americana.The night was peaceful and we slept well, being awakened only once by the intense light of a full moon.We began our climb out of the canyon at 5 a.m., following Bright Angel Trail, which skirted the Colorado River for some distance. Sunrise from the bottom of the canyon was just as awe-inspiring as what we had seen the previous morning.The scenery along the trail was breathtaking and varied as we hiked out of the canyon. Along the way we met Ranger John, whose job that day was to hike the trail from the canyon floor to the rim, visit with hikers and make sure everyone stayed safe. He told us many stories about the canyon as we hiked with him.Bright Angel Trail has three rest houses where hikers can take a break and fill water bottles. We saw many more sure-footed Grand Canyon mules on this trail, and on the distant rim of the canyon we finally spotted historic Kolb Studio, home to early 20th-century photographers.As we approached the top we encountered tourists in flip-flops and tennis shoes taking a brief walk into the canyon and we, with our trekking poles and tired legs, began to feel that we were about to leave something very special behind. After leaving the floor of the canyon 12hours earlier, we finally reached the top, exhausted and ready to do it all over again.
Friday, April 27, 2007
Backpacking With Bears
Dealing with bears along the CDT can be tricky. You need to be aggressive. You need to make a statement and take a stand. Don't run, don't walk away from a fight. Example of how to act in bear country: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7_VlVckrUgY
Friday, March 9, 2007
Michigan’s Isle Royale National Park
It is a magical place and in many hiker’s opinions, the best backpacking in the Midwest. I have always enjoyed not only my time on the island but the adventure of getting there and back. One fall I spent a good deal of the six hour boat ride back to the mainland listening to Rolf Peterson and his wife talk about their ongoing wolf study on the island. The Isle Royale wolf-moose survey is the longest running predator-prey study in the world, now in its 45th year. Peterson has conducted the study for the last 33 years.
I found not only the wolf study interesting but also their personal life, raising a family on the island during the summers.
Hikers are lucky to see a wolf, or hear them for that matter. They blend extremely efficiently into the island’s surroundings. At night it is more common to hear the haunting sound of the loon and the waves lapping on shore seeping through the tent walls.
The Greenstone Ridge Trail is heavily used by the 20,000 plus annual visitors. It offers the most impressive views. Overlooks such as Mt. Ojibway and Mt. Franklin position hikers to see the northern end of the island and the rest of the archipelago as well as the Minnesota and Canadian shore.
Backpackers do not have to worry about bear on the island but hanging food is still a necessity if you want to hang on to gear. Squirrels will chew through your pack and eat with you but the fox prefer to steal your food and gear and eat alone. You can go home one booted if you are not careful.
It is tempting to feed camp beggars. They come in close and bold and look cute and needy. The problem is they are habituated to camps because many prior visitors have already broken the no feed rule. There is a saying on the island, "a fed fox is a dead fox." This goes for all wildlife in all wilderness areas. It is not a diet that will keep them alive during the winter months and their boldness will eventually turn to conflict—with conflict wildlife always loses.
This isolated island will only continue to be a unique ecosystem if campers are responsible in their actions. Here, as everywhere, you must remember, "Leave No Trace."
My first visit to Isle Royale was in late season, 1972. It is the time of the year that brings the least visitation to the least visited National Park in the lower 48. Even today the number of fall visitors rarely approaches 200. Yellowstone National Park has more visitors in one day than Isle Royale has in a year, and Isle Royale is the only national park to completely close down for the winter. My other backpacking trips to Isle Royale have been late summer. The end of August could be considered late season for the park. Like the western mountain parks, visitation is waning, seasonal rangers are shipping out, park concessions are shutting down, students are heading back to the classrooms and the park pace ebbs.
Another plus for late August is the fact that the weather can still be incredibly hospitable and the bugs, for the most part, have all frozen to death. You see more wildlife, you hear less noise, the campgrounds are not full and often empty.
In the crisp morning air you can expect to round a bend in the trail and find a moose belly deep in still water that is reflecting a mirror image of the shoreline bordered by white birch, decomposing aspen and cattails withering away along a rocky shoreline. This is a land of rock and wetland bog. In a healthy year there will be a couple thousand moose sharing the island with a small pack of wolves. For this reason it is wise to purify drinking water. I do not normally purify my water but on Isle Royale there seems to be a lot more wildlife using the accessible water sources. I think the chance is remote but I have heard the tapeworm stories and figure that treating water is a safe bet in this environment. That said, on my recent pack trip there I did not treat water.
The vegetation is often encroaching on the trail system. On a cold drizzly day you can expect your clothing to brush against the waterlogged vegetation and soak your gear.
The island offers a variety of trails from the well used system just outside the Rock Harbor city limits, to the rugged Minong Trail, originally constructed for fire fighting access.
By any measure, the Isle Royale wilderness is in the fullest Midwest sense—remote. Trails weaving through the park’s forested ridges can offer you a backpacking experience not found anywhere else. Paths entwine to create plenty of loop trip options. It is a safe place to wander if you don’t mess with the moose, and the terrain is gentle and friendly to those in decent physical shape.
The islands woods here harbor a lot of history for those who take the time to discover it. Late summer berries are ripe for the taking, and you do not have to worry about Yogi competition.
The experience could be your first glimpse, or sound bite (no pun intended) of a wolf—but don’t plan on it. You will find many other treasured wilderness moments along the Superior shoreline of this National Park System jewel. —Keep Smilin’, Dick E. Bird
I found not only the wolf study interesting but also their personal life, raising a family on the island during the summers.
Hikers are lucky to see a wolf, or hear them for that matter. They blend extremely efficiently into the island’s surroundings. At night it is more common to hear the haunting sound of the loon and the waves lapping on shore seeping through the tent walls.
The Greenstone Ridge Trail is heavily used by the 20,000 plus annual visitors. It offers the most impressive views. Overlooks such as Mt. Ojibway and Mt. Franklin position hikers to see the northern end of the island and the rest of the archipelago as well as the Minnesota and Canadian shore.
Backpackers do not have to worry about bear on the island but hanging food is still a necessity if you want to hang on to gear. Squirrels will chew through your pack and eat with you but the fox prefer to steal your food and gear and eat alone. You can go home one booted if you are not careful.
It is tempting to feed camp beggars. They come in close and bold and look cute and needy. The problem is they are habituated to camps because many prior visitors have already broken the no feed rule. There is a saying on the island, "a fed fox is a dead fox." This goes for all wildlife in all wilderness areas. It is not a diet that will keep them alive during the winter months and their boldness will eventually turn to conflict—with conflict wildlife always loses.
This isolated island will only continue to be a unique ecosystem if campers are responsible in their actions. Here, as everywhere, you must remember, "Leave No Trace."
My first visit to Isle Royale was in late season, 1972. It is the time of the year that brings the least visitation to the least visited National Park in the lower 48. Even today the number of fall visitors rarely approaches 200. Yellowstone National Park has more visitors in one day than Isle Royale has in a year, and Isle Royale is the only national park to completely close down for the winter. My other backpacking trips to Isle Royale have been late summer. The end of August could be considered late season for the park. Like the western mountain parks, visitation is waning, seasonal rangers are shipping out, park concessions are shutting down, students are heading back to the classrooms and the park pace ebbs.
Another plus for late August is the fact that the weather can still be incredibly hospitable and the bugs, for the most part, have all frozen to death. You see more wildlife, you hear less noise, the campgrounds are not full and often empty.
In the crisp morning air you can expect to round a bend in the trail and find a moose belly deep in still water that is reflecting a mirror image of the shoreline bordered by white birch, decomposing aspen and cattails withering away along a rocky shoreline. This is a land of rock and wetland bog. In a healthy year there will be a couple thousand moose sharing the island with a small pack of wolves. For this reason it is wise to purify drinking water. I do not normally purify my water but on Isle Royale there seems to be a lot more wildlife using the accessible water sources. I think the chance is remote but I have heard the tapeworm stories and figure that treating water is a safe bet in this environment. That said, on my recent pack trip there I did not treat water.
The vegetation is often encroaching on the trail system. On a cold drizzly day you can expect your clothing to brush against the waterlogged vegetation and soak your gear.
The island offers a variety of trails from the well used system just outside the Rock Harbor city limits, to the rugged Minong Trail, originally constructed for fire fighting access.
By any measure, the Isle Royale wilderness is in the fullest Midwest sense—remote. Trails weaving through the park’s forested ridges can offer you a backpacking experience not found anywhere else. Paths entwine to create plenty of loop trip options. It is a safe place to wander if you don’t mess with the moose, and the terrain is gentle and friendly to those in decent physical shape.
The islands woods here harbor a lot of history for those who take the time to discover it. Late summer berries are ripe for the taking, and you do not have to worry about Yogi competition.
The experience could be your first glimpse, or sound bite (no pun intended) of a wolf—but don’t plan on it. You will find many other treasured wilderness moments along the Superior shoreline of this National Park System jewel. —Keep Smilin’, Dick E. Bird
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