Month: August 2026

The thunder and rain rang in the midnight. Loud claps of thunder broke the silence and rattled the ground. The lightning lit the sky and the darkness in the tent.

Then the rain hit the tent. Just inches above my head roared the sound of a waterfall.

I felt cozy wrapped in the storm. Dry and safe, listening until the end. Then the quiet, and I drifted to sleep.

It is morning. The tent is covered in large wet drops with a few leaves adding their shadow to the new day.

This is our last day in this park. We go to the trailhead at the visitor center. Still a bit tired from yesterday, we begin the hike. We follow the stairway to the beach.

Then we hike the trail to one of the two lookouts. We climb step after step to the first lookout. There is a group getting ready to rappel off the cliff. We visit for about thirty minutes, learning about the youth camp and sharing our tour stories.

The hike to the second lookout is slow. Moe attracts the interest of returning hikers of all ages, from three through late seventies.

The hike is over. We are back at camp. I put my bike on the work stand. I add sealant to the tires and clean and lube the chain. It is now ready for another ride.

The chill came late at night/early in the morning. I put on a light fleece and went back to sleep. Hours later, I opened my eyes to see the day begin. The moon in the blue sky was bright.

We have trails from the campground to two waterfalls. This will be explored. Moe is leashed and ready. We have our hiking shoes on. Off we go. A few sites from us, I spot a walk-in tent site. Curiosity pulls me down the trail to the site. Wow! This is a great place to camp.

We reach the trail and hike to the Upper Falls. Down the steps to the depths below. This is worth every bit of energy.

Up we climb. The steps seem to have doubled for the return to the top. Tired with fourteen-year-old Moe leading the way. Straining the leash, hoping we will move just a bit quicker.

Now at the trail split to Two Step Falls. I don’t know how it’s possible. There are two hundred steps to reach the bottom of the falls. This is steeper and longer than getting to the other falls. We do get there and hike over rocks and ledges to view the water drop, swirl, and splash.

Now is the payback. Up all those steps we climb.

We are now on the trail back to the campsite. I sit and relax as best I can while swatting mosquitos. With no lunch and all the hiking, 5789 steps, I skip a late lunch in favor of an early dinner. Burgers, tomatoes, and baked beans at 4 p.m.

I put the rain fly on the tent. It will rain overnight. We work on planning the next four campgrounds. Some will be in Canada. Then a short visit with the campsite across from us.

I’m sitting here writing a blog.

It’s getting dark, and I tire of fighting biting insects. I’m thinking of crawling into the bug-free tent.

At 6:30 am I’m awake and starting the breakdown. My sleeping gear and tent are packed. Next is breakfast, gobbled quickly. I want to be on the road by 9:00. The next campground is sixty miles away. I hope to be there around 3 p.m. Looking on the map, the town of Isabella is thirty miles away, perfect for grabbing drinks and food. The day now has a plan.

In the saddle and pedaling out the five-mile gravel road to MN 1. This road will take me to five miles of the campsite. Easy peasy, one road. This low-traffic road goes through the Superior National Forest. There is nothing other than swampy areas, many small lakes, and dense forest.

I am six miles from Isabella, hungry. Nancy goes by, slows down, and stops on the side of the road. Her window goes down, and she hands me the rest of her cold Dr. Pepper. I tell her my plan, and now she will meet me when I get to Isabella. She drives away. A few minutes later, I get a text. There is nothing in that town, and she will wait and make sandwiches. I ride another few miles and see the camper. Which, by the way, is the only thing in the town besides one house.

I get a few minutes’ rest sitting in a chair and a full belly. I leave, Nancy and Moe drive ahead to the campground.

Finland is the next town that might have food, just a farm market, a closed gas station, and a post office.

I am three miles from the campground.

I make my way to Park Road, climb the hill, and enter Baptism River Campground.

Camp is set up, and it’s time to relax. Oh, there are plenty of mosquitoes here also. 

The mosquitoes are here, not as bad as the place we left behind. Still enough that I don’t want to deal with them. I set up the tent sans rain fly. We are deep into a forest next to a lake, one of many in northeast Minnesota. I slept well in the cool air. Sometime in the darkness, I covered myself with a sleeping bag.

It is light. I stare into the white sky framed with green branches. The white slowly turns blue. The noise of the occupied sites signals people are up. I lay a bit longer. The camper door opens. Tiny foot steps are now on the ground coming my way. It is Moe pulling Nancy in my direction. He tries pushing his way inside, but this tent resists unlike the screen tent. I unzip and join the two in the soon-to-be hot air.

Afternoon slipped in. We take Moe for a walk to the lake.

I don’t have the desire to ride my bike on the park roads; there are no showers to clean off the sweat and grime. Going to bed icky and sticky would not be pleasant.

I am bored from not riding, which is mostly due to the distance I would need to cover to get to the campgrounds in time to be in sync with Nancy’s schedule. And, the roads have mostly been highways, some with shoulders, that have rumble strips where I would need to ride. Others, no shoulders.

What would be more appropriate than tasting a great beer from HammerHeart Brewing Company, located a few miles away in Ely?

Today is slipping into tomorrow.