Hike to Two Harbors, Leg 2: Hartley to Martin

Overlook of Amity Creek valley

My summer hike from Duluth to Two Harbors continued today, two-plus weeks after it started (read about my hike from my house to Hartley here). Today was the shortest stretch of all, from Hartley Park to Martin Road.

It felt great to be out on the trail again. It sounds corny, but the woods and trails are really quiet. And peaceful. Note to self: Hiking is good.

I ended my last hike at the corner of Woodland and Fairmont. Instead of using the Duluth Transit Authority for my shuttle this time, I used my bike. I parked at the Martin Road trailhead, then rode my bike back down Woodland Avenue to Fairmont Street, locked the bike up, and hiked on the "trail" up Carlisle Street.

SHT along Vermilion Road

 Nearly half of this hike was on city streets, though it was mostly quiet back streets. The only car that passed me was on its way to the same trailhead, driven by a mom and two kids off to pick juneberries. The route passes between two cemeteries, well-landscaped park-like settings that just happen to have hundreds of tombstones.

As part of the Superior Hiking Trail, this section is unique and ultimately forgettable. The one big viewpoint into the Amity Creek valley pales in comparison to nearly any viewpoint east or west along the trail. Road walking is tedious. I've commented on this trail section before, even though I hadn't hiked it, when Backpacker Magazine named it one of the 100 best day hikes in the US apparently without actually hiking it.

Pyrola along SHT

But, hey, it's hiking. Hiking is good. All on its own. The sky was blue. It was a cool summer morning with no bugs. There were some lovely pyrola blooming by the trail, as well as cow parsnip and forget-me-not. Even a healthy young birch forest.

So now my journey to Two Harbors has reached the Martin Road trailhead. I have a date with my 82-year-old father to pick up from there tomorrow morning. I know it won't be a glorious climb like Carlton Peak or a challenging roller coaster like the area around Finland. But it will be hiking. And hiking is good.

Fireweed: The End is Near

Fireweed is blooming along the North Shore. I love the bright colors and proud stance of this native flower, but I know that its appearance means we're at the peak of summer. Fireweed says, "Get going, this summer ain't gonna last."

Here are a few fun facts about Fireweed:

• Although it's best known for pioneering new territory after a fire, it is also very common along newly-built roads. The pictures in this blog post are from the new scenic pull-out off Highway 61 by Split Rock. In my experience, fireweed shows up in abundance on new roadsides in the second and third years after road construction.
•  Fireweed is most common in maritime areas with short hot summers...sounds like the North Shore to me. 
• In Great Britain, it is known as the Rosebay Willowherb. Olympics fans may like to learn that it is the County flower of London.

 

It’s berry time!

Big blueberries at a pick-your-own farm near Duluth

What a strange year it’s been for nature's timing. Everything was happening a month early this spring. Wildflowers are still blooming 3-4 weeks ahead of time. When it comes to summer berries, we’re still ahead of schedule, but only by a week or two.

Now it's blueberry season. Glowing reports are coming in from the Gunflint Trail and from Tettegouche State Park.

There are a few standbys that have been well-publicized for their berry picking. The top of Palisade Head can have amazing fields of berries. Anyplace named “Blueberry Hill” is  probably a good bet.

If you don’t feel like tracking down that patch of wild berries, there’s another option: pick-your-own berry farms. There are two commercial blueberry farms in the Duluth area.

Blackbirds and Blueberries is out near Cloquet and will have their first open picking this Saturday. Expect hundreds of people. For more information, track them down on Facebook or at www.blackbirdsandblueberries.com

Shary’s Berries is a smaller operation in the woods off the North Shore between Duluth and Two Harbors. Shary’s Berries is open by reservation only. The berries are certified organic. Call in advance to reserve your spot at 218-834-5221.

On the road with Sam Cook

Chris Evavold being photographed by Sam Cook at Divide Lake

Every two or three years, the phone rings and a familiar voice with just a hint of Kansas in it says, "Hi, Andrew, Sam Cook." Just like the sound of a bell got Pavlov's dogs to salivate, that voice makes me start to stuff my day pack. We're going on an adventure.

Sam wanted to do an article about North Shore hiking and our new book, Hiking the North Shore: 50 fabulous day hikes in Minnesota's spectacular Lake Superior region. "Where would you like to go, Andrew?," Sam asked. What a great question to get!

Sam was looking for something different. The day would be hot, so it would be good to be near a lake. He'd done a lot on the Superior Hiking Trail. He wanted to bring his lab, Lucy. Fortunately, I had the perfect hikes for him. And the perfect hiking companion.

Eighteen Lake and Divide Lake are both in the Superior National Forest, just east of Isabella off Highway One. They both have hiking trails around the shore, 2.7 miles at Eighteen Lake and 2.1 at Divide Lake. In the National Forest, dogs can run free off leash. And Divide Lake is a trout lake, which was perfect for my old friend Chris Evavold. 

Pipsissewa in bloom along Divide Lake trail

Chris, Sam and I met in Duluth and headed up Highway 61 to Illgen City. I drove Sam's minivan so he could ask me questions and jot down notes in his classic narrow reporter's notebook. I was ready: "What's so great about hiking here?" "Why did you want to write this book?"

At Illgen City I checked my watch. The "Lake Superior region" in the subtitle of my book roughly means anywhere you can reach within one half hour of driving from Highway 61. It was 32 minutes up Highway One to Divide Lake. Phew!

Hiking (or skiing, or snowshoeing, which I've done with him for other articles) with Sam is a moving chat fest in the woods. Much of the conversation is off the record and only distantly related to the story at hand. But every few moments, Sam would either dash ahead to get photos of Chris and me, or lag behind to write in his notebook.

The hikes were scenic and a lot of fun. Divide Lake is more for anglers and naturalists, with interesting botany and (supposedly) trout in the lake. Eighteen Lake is great for hiking, with lovely pine forests and dramatic views up and down the wild lake.

After the hike around Eighteen Lake, Sam got "head shots" of Chris and me. We were into the heat of the day, so before we headed back to Duluth we went for a refreshing swim in the cool lake waters. Just what the reporter ordered.

Here's the article. There's some good related content, too. See you out there!

White, waxy and weird wildflowers of the North

I had a great day of hiking this week up in the Isabella area. It's a 25-minute drive from Highway 61 through Finland along Highway 1 to Isabella, and we were still in the Lake Superior watershed, but it felt like arriving in another world. 

The forest changes from what you'd call "North Woods" to "Boreal." The main thing that was different was the wildflowers. In fact, I turned to an old book on my bookshelf, Plants of Quetico and the Ontario Shield, by Quetico park naturalist Shane Walshe.  

These flowers from the North were white, weird and waxy.

Along the Divide Lake trail (Hike 28 in my book Hiking the North Shore), we found clumps of Indian Pipe (Monotropa uniflora). Waxy and white, this flower has lives on decaying soil matter and needs no chlorophyll, thus it is white and not green at all. According to Plants of Quetico, "parboiled, boiled and roasted, this species tastes like asparagus."

Near the trailhead, I found clumps of baneberries. Yes, those white waxy "dolls eyes" are the berry of the baneberry plant (Actaea pachypoda). While you might confuse them with yogurt-covered raisins, they are quite poisonous to humans. Grouse and white-footed mice will eat them and, I presume, spread the seeds in ways I'd rather not visualize.

The last waxy weird wildflower we saw was the pipsissewa (Chimaphila umbellata). Shane Walsh wrote, "The leaves make a pleasant nibble." According to Wikipedia, the name means "it breaks into small pieces."

It was a lovely day up in the boreal north just inland from Lake Superior. But it's nice to be back where the plants are green and the berries are blue.

A little bit about lupines

It's lupine season on the North Shore. The fields of blue flowers along Highway 61 rival the golds and yellows of fall for the best colors along the scenic drive. 

Many people I ask tell me that the lupines are their favorite North Shore flowers...even though the flowers aren't native. I guess that makes the lupine like a lot of us: outsiders who have tried to fit in and make the North Shore a little better for everyone.

As you enjoy these towers of flowers, here's a few fun facts to add to your enjoyment:

• "Lupine", as any decent fan of Harry Potter knows, is related to the Latin word for wolf (get it, Professor Lupin...the kind-hearted werewolf?). It was once thought that lupines "wolfed" the nutrients out of the soil, hence the name.
• The North Shore lupine are known scientifically as Lupinus polyphyllus. They are  native to the western US coastal mountains 
• The best stands on Highway 61 are between Two Harbors and Gooseberry. They are often found along the roadside near older homesteads. There are also amazing fields of them between the Pigeon River and Thunder Bay.
• Showing just how perfect they are for the North Shore, lupine do poorly in rich soil. Good thing we're mostly gravel, bedrock and clay up here!

Enjoy the display of colors...it's North Shore summer at its finest.

Four random facts about Bunchberry

The bunchberry are blooming along the North Shore. With their simple, bold flowers and symmetrical leaves, they are one of the most common and easiest to identify of all flowers.

Like many wildflowers, this one has lots of factoids concerning its name, its ecology and even its anatomy. You can impress your hiking companions with just one of these four random facts. By the time you get all four out, they'll think you're a genius.

Random fact #1: The name bunchberry refers to the tight "bunch" of orange-colored berries that ripen later in summer. 

Random fact #2: A common local name for the flower is "Canada dogwood." In fact, that's a literal translation of the scientific name Cornus canadensis. 

Random Fact #3: The beautiful white "petals" aren't actually petals. Instead, they are modified leaves that surround and draw attention to the actual flowers, which are very small and greenish yellow. Each one of those little flowers could ripen into one of the orange berries. 

Random Fact #4: The berries are popular with veeries and vireos. 


Any questions?

The fog flowers of the North Shore

Tall Lungwort, Piedmont Ski Trail, Duluth

It's been a cold and foggy spring by the shores of Lake Superior. That's been tough on vegetable gardens and bike stores. But it's been great for at least one perfect North Shore wildflower. A flower that NEEDS the cold. It NEEDS the fog.

If you NEED some inspiration to get out and explore the foggy North Shore, look no farther than the tall lungwort, a.k.a. northern bluebells. 

Tall lungwort (Mertensia paniculata) is found all around the cool, moist shores of Lake Superior...and nowhere else in the eastern United States. The only other place it's found in the US is in the western states, on the cooler, wetter sides of the mountains there. 

Tall Lungwort, Tettegouche State Park

Ecologists call these North Shore flowers a "disjunct" population, separated from the main group. Lake Superior provides not only the cool air but also the moisture. If you're a fan of The West and mountains, here's a bit of the western Rocky Mountains right here for you.

It seems like every other wildflower on the North Shore is running at least a week late in the blooming calendar. Not this flower; it's right on time. 

Imagine those first little green growths of lungwort emerging from the damp North Shore soil, sensing cold and fog and saying, in its little plant voice, "PERFECT! Let's grow."

Inspired? Might as well make the best of this North Shore fog and cold, just like this flower does. Poke your head out the door and into the fog and just say, "PERFECT!"

Marsh marigolds: An appreciation

The little creeks and the ditches of the North Shore are filling up with the big yellow burst of marsh marigolds. For most of us unable to hike deep into the woods, these are the first real noticeable blooms of spring. 

I used to try to charm my wife with a small bud vase of two or three marsh marigold blooms, if I could find enough of them in one place to pluck a few. But then I learned that some Native Americans used marsh marigold as a protection against love charms. Oops.

Marsh marigold is actually not a marigold, but a member of the buttercup family. Their natural habitat on the North Shore are the little unnamed creeks that dry up in the summer but run like clear music in the spring. They are common in roadside ditches along Highway 61, as long as it's moving water and not a stagnant pool. 

Here are some other names for marsh marigolds in England: May Blobs, Mollyblobs, Pollyblobs, Horse Blob, Water Blobs, Water Bubbles, Gollins and the Publican. And in North America, it can go by: Cowslip, Cowflock, Kingcup, Buttercup, Populage des Marais, Soucis d'Eau.

I just call them lovely. If not love charming.

Go soon to see the "flowers of the day"

Hepatica on the Superior Hiking Trail in western Duluth, 5/15/2011

The spring ephemerals are blooming in the woods of the North Shore. Ephemeral is a lovely word from the Greek words for "of the day." It means short-lived, and these flowers pack a lot of living into just a very few days. 

Along the Superior Hiking Trail, in the Bardon Peak area of western Duluth off Skyline Drive, there is a great two miles of trail leading through the heart of an old-growth northern hardwood forest. 

Bloodroot along the Superior Hiking Trail in western Duluth, 5/15/2011

There is a very brief window of opportunity for the flowers there: the ground must be thawed, and there must be plenty of sunshine. "Spring ephemerals" are a small group of flowers that carry out virtually their entire annual life cycle in those few weeks. In that group are bloodroot, hepatica, wood anemone, and spring beauty. 

Well, the ground is thawed, and thanks to our long winter there are very few leaves on the trees to block the sun. So this is the time to head to your favorite stretch of maple forest and check out the show.

Go see for yourself
This is Hike 3 in our new book Hiking the North Shore. 

To reach the Bardon Peak trail, take Skyline Drive west from I-35 past Spirit Mountain. It's 2.5 miles to the Magney Ski Trail parking area. The Superior Hiking Trail leads from the near corner of the parking lot. Take a right at the first junction and follow the signs for Bardon Peak. After a scenic run across a creek and through a pine forest, the trail crosses Skyline Drive and enters the old-growth maple forest. It's 1.3 miles total to the big viewpoints of Bardon Peak. You can either continue for a total of 3.3 miles to Elys Peak or turn around here.

Bloodroot and hepatic were blooming a few days ago, but very soon the lovely large-flowered trillium will be blooming too. Get out there and enjoy!

Summer is on the way...from Arizona

Yes, it seems like winter is here to stay. People are still skiing on North Shore ski trails. Dry, fresh snow just fell on Sawbill Lake. But I can tell you, summer is happening, only it's a thousand miles away.

I just got back from a week in Arizona, in a little town north of Phoenix. We did some hiking and some hanging out by the pool. Temps were in the high 80s every day. The cacti were blooming like wild. The ocotillo plant, normally a dried-up stick of a shrub, was covered in green leaves and blooming a flush of orange-red flowers.

The biggest blooms were on the saguaro. Saguaro are those super-tall cacti with the arms sticking out and up. They define the Sonoran Desert sort of like how the white pine define the North Woods. 

So North Shore folks who have had bit too much winter, take heart. The seasons are changing; the earth is tilting toward the sun. The maple woods will fill with spring beauty. The loons will return to our lakes. Sometime before August, you'll actually feel hot.  

Summer is on the way. 

A different kind of fall colors

While everyone's waiting for the North Shore maple trees and birch trees to turn out glorious reds and yellows, the wildflowers are putting on their own fall color show. There hasn't been a real frost yet, so the little growing things are still healthy and strong.



Asters and goldenrods always bloom late in the year, but this year they're hanging in later than normal. I took the poodle out for a walk on the Piedmont ski trails this morning. While the trees had only just started to turn, the colors within the forest were spectacular. As the ferns and shrubs turn red behind them, these gorgeous arrangements decorate the forest floor.



Of course, nothing says fall colors like a maple leaf on the ground. But those red maple leaves have some serious competition early in the North Shore color season.

Harebells 'round the world

Go to any open rocky stretch of the North Shore right now, and you will likely find a familiar blue flower, bell-shaped, with leaves so skinny and round they almost look like grass. It's a North Shore flower all right, but it's found in dramatic landscapes all over the world. I took this photo last week in between cold-water swimming challenges with Chicago Max.

What we call harebell here is known as bluebell blueflower across the US, Rundblättrige Glockenblume in the Alps, and liten blåklocka in Sweden, where it has appeared on postage stamps.




One summer I saw it in bloom in rock cracks on the North Shore, then a week later in the North Dakota badlands, then a week later in the high alpine tundra of Montana. All of those places are nutrient-poor and can be quite dry.

Check out some great trivia here. This is a great flower, with lots of stories to tell. Keep your eyes out for the rare white-flowered version!

Lupines, as predicted

Back in early April, Edwin Way Teale and I predicted that the North Shore lupine would bloom in early June. That was based on the lupines I saw blooming then in Arizona and the way that spring "moves" north.

All the flowers have been off this year, two or three weeks early in some cases due to the warm early spring. So I was only a little surprised to find the lupine in full glory along Highway 61 a few days ago. Between Two Harbors and Gooseberry there are some fine patches of this flower. It's like a bonus fall color season, only in the early summer.

They are definitely blooming earlier than normal. The last week of June is pretty common for the lupine bloom, as I've noted in this blog here and here (for 2009 and 2008). I know this especially because we had lots of fresh North Shore lupines as table decorations at our June 29 wedding.

Way to go, Edwin Way Teale!

Bloggus borealis

How "north" is the North Shore? One clue might be the flowers you see along the trail.

The scientific names of flowers show their genus first, and then their species name. Like the trillium I saw the other day, Trillium grandiflora. It was a trillium, that's the genus. Grandiflora means "big leaves." That's the species.

Here in the North Woods, we have lots of plants that have their species name sounding like something from the north. And one of my favorite species name is borealis, meaning "of the North."

Hiking yesterday, it was one borealis after another. The starflower above is Trientalis borealis, roughly translated as "4-inch flower of the North."



Bluebead lily is Clintonia borealis. Roughly translated as "bead lily of the North."



And twinflower is Linnaea borealis. Roughly translated as "Carl's favorite flower of the North."



There's a great story about this flower. It was so loved by the famous botanist Carl Linnaeus that when he had his wedding portrait painted, he held a twinflower. Even though he really liked the twinflower, his fiancee Sara Elisabeth Moræa got her own, separate portrait.

Here it is close up:



Linnaeus didn't have to get to the North Shore to find his beloved twinflower...it's actually a circumpolar species, found all around the northern latitudes.

So when you hike these trails and see these flowers, remember that you...and the flowers....are "of the North."

Fog flowers

A remote trail at Tettegouche. A hillside in Duluth. Bound by flowers and the fog.

Most folks call it Bluebells. North Shore naturalists call it Tall Lungwort. It's not even in my Peterson's wildflower book. It's Lake Superior's own Mertensia paniculata. And it's blooming...a few weeks earlier than normal, thanks to this topsy-turvy spring.



In the course of two days, I found patches of Mertensia on the Piedmont ski trail (top) and in Tettegouche State Park (above). Both places have in common the fact that they are close to big, cold and wet Lake Superior. This wildflower belong to the lake. It needs the cool, moist air. Mertensia paniculata grows all around Lake Superior, and also on the cool, moist western slopes of the Northern Rockies....but nowhere in between.

If it's foggy because of the lake, that's the lair of the lungwort. When you see those dangly blue flowers and the pointed leaves, you know it's the North Shore.

Advice from a trillium: Go big or go home

I went for a short hike on the Superior Hiking Trail the other day. It was my birthday, and maybe I was feeling contemplative or open to new ideas. Who'd have thought a woodland wildflower would give me advice.

We're past the first flush of those little spring wildflowers like violets, bunchberry or anemone. Those flowers are cute as a button and a wonderful surprise to the spring hiker.

As the trees get all their leaves and the forest floor becomes fully in the shade, flowers and their leaves need to go big. Big leaves bring in more sunlight for photosynthesis. Big flowers attract pollinators.

There aren't many bigger flowers in the North Woods than the Large-Flowered Trillium.

Go big or go home. The Urban Dictionary explains that means, "be extravagant, to go all the way, and do whatever you are doing to its fullest - and not flake out.

It can be even be texted: gbgh!

So now I'm 46 years old. If there's ever a time to go big, it's now.

Watch out world!

Thanks for the advice, you robust wildflower!

Memo to green things: Be careful now

The dog and I walked...WALKED...the Piedmont ski trail here in Duluth today. The alder bushes look like a cluster of shy scared green people stepping outdoors all wrapped in heavy blankets and just beginning to let the blankets go loose.

Yes, it's the end of April and I had no right to think I might still be skiing. Still, the last time I was there it was very early March and the woods were full of snow. The air today was gray and cold and nearly felt like snow, after weeks of way-above temperature. Two miles from Lake Superior and I could still feel her chilly breath.

Anyway, the North Shore forest seems to be responding reluctantly to the early warm spring. Yesterday's 30 degree temperature drop in 30 minutes might have made the green things a bit more reluctant, like they're saying, "Told you so."

Yet the shrubs in the woods inevitably leaf out. It's like Nature Central sent out a memo.

April 21, 2010
To: Plants
From: Nature
Re: Green up

The warm early spring might have fooled you. Green up should begin, but be careful now.




Flowers are starting to come up as well, like the Canada mayflower slowly unrolling the first of its two leaves. In today's gray and cold, nothing seemed to be in much of a hurry.

The only plant that seemed like it was getting ahead of itself were the marsh-marigolds down in the little forest cricks. Their leaves were big and bold, and the flower buds already have a yellow hue. Maybe they didn't get the memo.



This is spring on the North Shore. The wind may shift, and the temps may not hit 60 again until June. Yet nature marches along.

The lupines are blooming...

...in Arizona. I went for a guided wildflower walk yesterday in Spur Cross Ranch Conservation Area, outside Carefree. Not only lupine but the whole palette of desert wildflowers were blooming.

Naturalist Edwin Way Teale came up with one of the great big-picture observation, that spring moves north across the continent about fifteen miles per day. Let's do the math.

It's April 5. The trademark lupines along Highway 61 bloom in late June, as I've observed in this blog. According to Google Map calculator, it's 1415 miles from Carefree AZ to Beaver Bay MN. But we're as much west here as we are south (gee, that's why they call it the "Southwest"). For the Teale analysis, we're about 900 miles south.

900 miles at 15 miles a day. That would take 60 days. Which would put the Highway 61 lupines blooming June 1. It's been a freaky early spring on the North Shore, but not that early. Teale's observation is within range, however. It would have been ten or twelve miles a day instead of fifteen.

I love big broad natural history patterns! It's true, I am a nature dork.



So spring wildflowers are down here in Arizona and I can promise you they're coming north. When will the cactus bloom in Minnesota?

Tales of the plump and poisonous

Caution: Sassy, deadly berries ahead



The North Shore is awash in berries right now. The raspberries are ripe, but they hide discreetly under leaves. The blueberries are coming along and should be ready in a week or two.

But watch out for the poisonous ones! They're out now, they look terrific, but they'll ruin your day.

I hiked from the Caribou Trail to Lutsen yesterday on the Superior Hiking Trail. The woods were awash with these brash and brightly colored berries that demand attention. They were "in my face."

The fruits are almost pornographically plump. The colors are nearly artificial against the woodland groundcover. It's like they're genetically programmed to say, "Eat Me."

Above is the red baneberry, Actaea rubra. In my copy of A Field Guide to Edible Wild Plants, this one gets a skull and crossbones next to it. The book says, "A few berries can cause severe dizziness and vomiting."

The red baneberry's sister plant is the white baneberry, Actaea pachypoda:



It was in fruit along the SHT as well. The white baneberry is also known as "Doll's eyes." The white waxy berries have little black dots like eyeballs. Peterson gives this one a skull and crossbones too.

Yeah, these plants are saying, "Eat me." You probably won't die. But you will be tossing your cookies real soon.

In fact, that is just what the plant wants: you're spreading the seeds tucked inside those berries.

As a blueberry picker, I'm most tuned into the bluebead lily, Clintonia borealis:



I get that "search image" of a small round blue fruit. As I bend over to find and pick the real blueberries from their low-growing shrubs, I'll often find these puppies sticking way out above the real blueberries. Man, do they scream, "Eat Me!" Peterson doesn't give the bluebead lily the skull and crossbones, so they might not kill you. They get just a short description as "Inedible." Maybe the idea is you try to eat one, it's awful, and you spit it out a few yards away. That's seed dispersal too.

If nature is all about the survival of the fittest, these plants are survival of the plumpest.