Next, I ventured (by plane and boat this time) to one of the many locations on my bucket list - Isle Royale, located on the big lake they call Kitchi Gummi. This volcanic island archipelago stretches up from the depths of Superior's ice-water mansion* and includes what is now over 132,000 acres of nationally protected wilderness. The islands are unlike any other National Park in that the only way of reaching them is by seaplane or boat, making it possible to stop every visitor before they step foot on the island to run them through a lesson and test them in their Leave No Trace principles. The result is a National Park that is incredibly pristine and, aside from hiking trails and established backcountry campsites, is actually wilderness.
The islands have far less species diversity than the mainland as a result of their limited land area and, even in this close-to-pristine location, human influences still have a large effect on the species found here - it is possible that humans may have even influenced the establishment of the islands most famous residents, the moose.
`*Adapted from Gordon Lightfoot's Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald
The islands have far less species diversity than the mainland as a result of their limited land area and, even in this close-to-pristine location, human influences still have a large effect on the species found here - it is possible that humans may have even influenced the establishment of the islands most famous residents, the moose.
`*Adapted from Gordon Lightfoot's Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald
The study of the wolves and moose interactions on Isle Royale is the longest running predator-prey relationship study in the world - it has been running for over 50 years, spearheaded mostly by a couple that we were lucky enough to meet! Rolf and Candy Peterson live, during the summer, on one of the over 450 small islands that surround the big island.
As we were setting up camp at Daisy Farm - one of the backcountry campsites on the southern side of the big island - we heard crashing footprints coming through the woods toward us. Out of the trees and underbrush stepped a lean, short-grey-haired woman wearing high wading boots and a worn-down sweatshirt. Upon first making eye contact with her deep brown eyes that were full of energy and listening to her exclaim "I don't think that was the way I was supposed to come!" as she stepped back on the trail, it was clear that this was the famous 'moose lady'.
It turns out that on Wednesday and Sunday nights, Candy and Rolf, 'the moose lady and the wolf guy' kayak or canoe over to Daisy Farm to give a short presentation to any campers about their research and to display some of the many bones and artifacts that have collected at their house.
It turns out that although it was FREEZING when we ferried across to Isle Royale (and when I decided to jump in the lake because I simply cannot pass up the opportunity to do such a thing), it had been an unusually warm summer, making moose spottings extremely rare. It was disappointing given that I felt like I should see a moose on my visit, but excitingly an apple tree had fallen near the outskirts of Daisy Farm, and wolves were visiting it to get a delicious bite.
As the night fell, Candy and Rolf departed and I began to set up for the night. Just as I was about to crawl in my tent, I heard crashing footprints coming through the trees again. I was rather taken aback, as I couldn't imagine that a hiker would be so loud and walking through the trees at this time of night! But, I continued to listen and the crashing got louder and louder... the sound of full limbs of trees being sheared off hinted to me that this was no typical hiker. I put my headlamp on full beam and shined it out towards the noise. A single silver eye, about a foot off the ground, peered back at me though the darkness. Then another, about a foot away and a similar height off the ground, peered at me as well. "What the heck?" I thought, "Is that a pair of wolves?" The breaking sticks and branches resumed and the eyes moved, in unison, closer. From the darkness around them emerged a ghostly grey set of massive antlers moving directly towards me at quite a pace. I think this bull moose wanted to battle, and I answered the call by showing him who was boss... I immediately turned off the light and ducked into a tight ball behind my tent.
I think that really showed him, as the breaking sticks took a sharp turn to the west and faded off into the night.
As we were setting up camp at Daisy Farm - one of the backcountry campsites on the southern side of the big island - we heard crashing footprints coming through the woods toward us. Out of the trees and underbrush stepped a lean, short-grey-haired woman wearing high wading boots and a worn-down sweatshirt. Upon first making eye contact with her deep brown eyes that were full of energy and listening to her exclaim "I don't think that was the way I was supposed to come!" as she stepped back on the trail, it was clear that this was the famous 'moose lady'.
It turns out that on Wednesday and Sunday nights, Candy and Rolf, 'the moose lady and the wolf guy' kayak or canoe over to Daisy Farm to give a short presentation to any campers about their research and to display some of the many bones and artifacts that have collected at their house.
It turns out that although it was FREEZING when we ferried across to Isle Royale (and when I decided to jump in the lake because I simply cannot pass up the opportunity to do such a thing), it had been an unusually warm summer, making moose spottings extremely rare. It was disappointing given that I felt like I should see a moose on my visit, but excitingly an apple tree had fallen near the outskirts of Daisy Farm, and wolves were visiting it to get a delicious bite.
As the night fell, Candy and Rolf departed and I began to set up for the night. Just as I was about to crawl in my tent, I heard crashing footprints coming through the trees again. I was rather taken aback, as I couldn't imagine that a hiker would be so loud and walking through the trees at this time of night! But, I continued to listen and the crashing got louder and louder... the sound of full limbs of trees being sheared off hinted to me that this was no typical hiker. I put my headlamp on full beam and shined it out towards the noise. A single silver eye, about a foot off the ground, peered back at me though the darkness. Then another, about a foot away and a similar height off the ground, peered at me as well. "What the heck?" I thought, "Is that a pair of wolves?" The breaking sticks and branches resumed and the eyes moved, in unison, closer. From the darkness around them emerged a ghostly grey set of massive antlers moving directly towards me at quite a pace. I think this bull moose wanted to battle, and I answered the call by showing him who was boss... I immediately turned off the light and ducked into a tight ball behind my tent.
I think that really showed him, as the breaking sticks took a sharp turn to the west and faded off into the night.
In the morning, I awoke feeling a bit stiff. I decided to stretch outside the tent and took my boots off while doing so. But, I had underestimated the chill in the crisp fall air, and returned inside the tent to grab a few extra layers. I heard some scuffling outside, and when I came back out I could not find one of my boots.
I searched around for it, and slowly the realization became more and more clear. The words of a ranger who told us a funny story about a fox stealing an unattended boot began reverberating in my head. I went into frenzy mode and ran down the trail, hoping to find some long gone culprit of the woods. I didn't find my culprit. But, what I did find was a tattered, bitten off yellow and orange shoelace, characteristic of my hiking boots.
So, if you visit Isle Royale and see a crafty fox walking around with only one boot on, ask him if it really fits him that well anyway.
I searched around for it, and slowly the realization became more and more clear. The words of a ranger who told us a funny story about a fox stealing an unattended boot began reverberating in my head. I went into frenzy mode and ran down the trail, hoping to find some long gone culprit of the woods. I didn't find my culprit. But, what I did find was a tattered, bitten off yellow and orange shoelace, characteristic of my hiking boots.
So, if you visit Isle Royale and see a crafty fox walking around with only one boot on, ask him if it really fits him that well anyway.
