Back to Camp

I wasn't sure if I'd be able to take my annual fall camping getaway after this summer's "extended" trip. Thankfully I have a wonderful boss who said "sure, go ahead!"

My annual trip to the far northeast corner of Minnesota's Arrowhead is a much-needed recharge after a traditionally crazy spring/summer work schedule. All these photos are from my trip earlier this summer. This is a view of the west side of "my" campsite, looking west over the lake and my favorite reading spot.
 

In my last post I mentioned that my trip with my mom had several days added to it due to overly ambitious beavers. There is a single gravel road going in and out of the campground (and that's a very generous term, there are only three no-service sites on the lake) and beavers have apparently moved into the slough on the south side of the road, approximately 4 miles before you get to camp, building a new dam across the slough's main outlet.

Days of rain led to a swamped road that was impassable for my XC70 Volvo. The water was mid-thigh (yes, we made the trek out to the "Big Muddy" daily to wade it in hopes that the level was dropping). Since the campground's off-grid no one knew we were stuck until we miracuously picked up a data signal one day. No phone but data, go figure. I was able to text a friend who called my boss and my partner Dean to let them know why we weren't home before the signal disappeared. We never got it back.

In the meantime we enjoyed reading, playing cards, hiking, kayaking and watching the area wildlife. During one kayak a juvenile Bald Eagle plunged from a tree and opened its wings so close overhead I heard the deep "boof" of them snapping open. On another one we watched dozens of Cedar Waxwings lining the cove dive and swoop after hatching mayflies, snatching them just feet above the water, right over our heads.

This is looking west late in the day so the lighting isn't the greatest, but I love the feel of the image:

A lot of people don't realize how dense loon feathers are. And all throughout their bodies, not just on their underside. If you ever have a chance to hold a loon you'll be amazed at how much they feel like a plush toy. Here's a closer look so you can see the layers upon layers of feathers in the wings:

Birds included the Chestnut-sided Warblers that I mentioned in my earlier post and this nesting Mourning Warbler that fluttered about every time we hiked past its nest:

Mom was a trooper through it all and even gamely laughed when I suggested needing to eat tree bark if the water didn't drop. We started every morning by walking with our coffee to the huge rock outcropping that overlooks the lake, facing south for that much-needed morning warmth (nights were in the low 40s and we were tenting). Here's mom and my oldest dog, Panzer, enjoying the morning sun:

We saw beautiful wild flowers on our hikes and kayaks. The Blue Flag Irises were in bloom everywhere:

Four days later than expected, we finally made it through, white-knuckled with our foglamps underwater.  Thankfully the Volvo survived.

Once we were out of camp, we did a whirlwind tour of the sights I'd been hoping to gradually explore with mom. Portage Brook Falls is a hidden gem on the Arrowhead Trail. I've only run into other hikers there once in the seven years I've been visiting it.

On the way back we stopped off at Split Rock Lighthouse on Lake Superior just in time to watch a massive fog bank roll in:

For the next couple weeks I'll be back up here with the dogs enjoying the area and hopefully not being stranded by beavers  (the DNR blows the beaver dams when they start undermining the roads). Poor Dean is still in his busy season but hopefully he'll be able to join me for a weekend. (hey, someone has to work!)

In the meantime I'll schedule some posts of other sights from the area so you can "vacation" with me. Looking forward to catching up with all of you when I return!

Hiking Baxter SP: Chimney Pond

During our trip out east in October, we spent several days exploring Baxter State Park in Maine. It's a stunning park and has an incredible story behind its founding: organized and bought by a private citizen for Maine residents to enjoy a truly wild place. ("Legacy of a Lifetime" is a great read about the founding of the park.)

We spent our first full day in the park hiking up to Chimney pond, a tarn set in a cirque with stunning Mt. Katahdin in the background (off to the right, summit not shown here).

First, let me say the grueling hike was well worth it. Second, let me say that the hike was grueling not because it was 3.3 miles "straight up" as the park officials kept touting. Nor that it's an elevation gain of more than 4,000 feet. It's because there was basically no trail. Or, Mainers have a different idea of the word "trail" than we've experienced in hiking Arizona, Colorada and our home state of Minnesota. I don't expect, or even want, a paved or groomed path, but some semblance of a path would be nice.

This is a standard section of Chimney Pond trail:

It's not a trail. It's hiking in a rock-strewn steambed. The worst part? If you're under 5'5" like I am, you're continually clambering over rocks that are taller than your knees. This does not make for a pleasant seven mile hike, nor for a fun descent.

The scenery was spectacular though and I'd do it again in a heartbeat. Well, maybe two heartbeats...

It was an overcast day when we set out and about two-thirds of the way up the trail it began to snow. Our first snow of the season!

You think the above photo is of a stream? Ha. Guess again. That'd be the TRAIL. I can't imagine the trail is open in the spring, it must just gush water.

We did, however, cross over many beautiful streams and waterfalls en route:

There's a campground at Chimney Pond, right before you come to the lake. It's where I saw my first-ever wild Pine Marten. I did quite the happy dance once I got over my shock of coming face to face with one of these amazing creatures. And no, I didn't take the time to get my camera out of the backpack - some moments are just meant to be enjoyed with all your senses.

While having a snack in one of the Appalachian-style lean-tos that was vacant, we chatted with a couple from Ohio who had hit Baxter on a spur-of-the-moment road trip. When they asked if we would take a photo, Dean suggested walking over to the lake for it. They stared at us. "There's a lake up here?" Seriously. We all got a good laugh out of that.

Here's Dean at the lake:

On the way up, Lower Basin lake had been engulfed in a cloud so we kept going. On the way back down, the clouds had lifted a bit and we snapped this photo right before heavy snow began falling:

Before crossing the final footbridge into Chimney Pond campground, we left behind the first snowman of the year:

By the time we passed it on the way down, someone had added black eyes and a red piece of yarn for a smiling mouth. Gotta love your fellow hikers!

Eastern Red-backed Salamander

During my recent camping trip, I spent nearly a week on our acreage that has a trout stream running through it before moving to my regular lakeside site. "The land" (we're creative) is a fabulous spot for exploring - I never know what I'm going to find.

While cleaning pine needles out of the dogs' water dish one morning, I went to pick up a twig and realized it was alive. With a red stripe:

This very cute critter is an Eastern Red-backed Salamander (Plethodon cinereus). One of just six salamanders found in Minnesota.

It has some fascinating qualities:
 - it's the only Minnesota salamander to not go through an aquatic life phase. It spends its life entirely on land (I felt very sorry for it being trapped in 2" of water for who knows how long after learning this).
 - it's a lungless variety of salamander (largest salamander family). It gets all its oxygen through mucous membrane and skin gaseous exchange (now I felt doubly-bad - they must be able to go without oxygen for awhile!)

It's also one of our smallest salamanders, measuring in at a max of 5."

When the young are born, they look exactly like the adults, just teensier: only 1" long! They do not go through a metamorphsis.

Speaking of being born: Eastern Red-backed Salamander sex is occurring right now, and will continue into the early winter months. Even though they mate now, the female won't lay her eggs in a damp hollow log or a rock crevice until next spring. The clutch size is amazingly small: 15 or fewer eggs, average size is 8. And she only reproduces every other year.

But, she's a great mom! Once she lays her eggs she'll curl up around them and guard them for the two months it takes the eggs to hatch. Of course, a few weeks after they hatch they're entirely on their own - but at least she protects the eggs and gives them a good start on life.

And, she remembers her offspring. Eastern Red-backeds mark their territory through scent glands. In times of drought, when food sources are scare, the female will allow offspring back into her territory to hunt until the scarcity eases. Just her offspring, others are chased off. That's pretty neat.

Their diet is all sorts of invertabrates, including spiders, mites, worms, beetles, snails and even ants.

Logging has a very negative impact on these terrestrial amphibians and even fragmentation of forests can affect their population. Some research has found that it can take 40-60 years for their population to rebound in areas of heavy logging. They do best in undisturbed deciduous forests or mixed conifer forests (which is what our land is) with plenty of woodsy material on the forest floor.

During winter, they'll burrow down and enter a state of torpor, they do not actually hibernate. In fact, some references cited seeing them above ground and active on mild winter days. Unlike many of our tree frogs, Eastern Red-backeds can't survive freezing, so scientists believe they remain somewhat active underground during the winter. Discovery of full stomachs found in winter samples also points to the fact that the salamanders will awaken and feed, moving around as needed.

There are two other forms of the Eastern Red-backed Salamander: The red phase (crythristic) and the gray phase (leadback).

Challenge: Do you like looking for worms after an evening rain? If you live in Minnesota keep your eyes open for the gray-backed form. It's never been documented in the state! (Amphibians and Reptiles of Minnesota, Barney Oldfield and John Moriarity) *note that in the book they also list the red phase as having not been documented, but it since has been. A new update of the book will be available a year from now.


Citings:
http://amphibiaweb.org/cgi/amphib_query?where-genus=Plethodon&where-species=cinereus
Amphibians and Reptiles of Minnesota
Grizzly Run

Northern Escape

I'm enjoying two weeks of bliss at my favorite camping spot way up in Northeastern Minnesota, off the Arrowhead Trail. Fortunately, Dean was able to join me for a long weekend before heading back to the Cities to work. Here he is with Panzer enjoying a gorgeous sunset.

Now it's just me and the dogs enjoying nature, catching up on my reading and doing lots of fishing.

Many thanks to all of you who have shared my blog posts while I'm gone via Twitter and G+. Looking forward to catching up with you when I return!