Camping Near the Forever Awe-Inspiring Minnesota North Shore
Living in Minneapolis, Eric and I sometimes don’t get the ‘fall vibes’ until late October. Summer is personally my favorite season, so until the ground is consumed with leaves, it’s still summer in my brain. I know this goes against the millennial stereotype. I should be shotgunning pumpkin spice lattes and leaping into a pile of leaves, right? I absolutely agree.
This trip to “The North” (nearly touching the ‘Great White North’ aka: Canada, at that) is the excuse to leap into the hypothetical leaves of fall, because the trees are changing, and the cold air rolls in from Gitchi Gami (Ojibwe for Lake Superior, or “the big lake”) giving hikers a hint of the crisp autumnal feeling a couple weeks ahead of schedule.
standing at the end of the Canal in Duluth Minnesota! A 5’3” indigenous girl (me), makes a peace sign along a lighthouse on a sunny day. (I actually pointed at a kid in this exact spot and he face-planted on the concrete. Am I a witch now?)
The plan and trip objectives
We always plan our trip by picking our timeframe, and then choosing the things we want to do within that window of time. This year I was simply looking to get away. Eric had some ambition when it came to the whereabouts we would wander to.
My main goals/wants for the trip:
Finish reading a book and maybe buy a new one
Search for cute mushrooms/fungi to draw in my sketchbook later on
Gain some personal creativity or inspiration while hiking or walking in the wilderness
Eric’s main goals/wants for the trip:
Climb an observation tower called “Enger Tower” at the Enger Park in Duluth, MN
Hiking and taking in the sights of the mountains and Lake Superior
Walk on the Black Beach or explore a Marina
Eric taking in the scenery on a rock I was too small to reach with my stubby legs. The waves crash upon a rock that is likely iron ore or volcanic in some way, and Eric crouched down to let the waves try and fail to take him.
Camping challenges and how we’d overcome the hurdles
At the last minute, we almost canceled the trip due to the challenges we faced. This year in particular was challenging for camping for so many reasons.
These challenges included:
We personally had no camping reservations, so we had to beat the crowd
It was a short trip (3 days, 2 nights: to avoid Labor Day traffic on Monday)
The wildfires/fire bans at the campsites
No camping reservation / Trying to beat the crowd
As far as annual tradition goes, We still went last year in 2020. Getting out of our small 1 bedroom Minneapolis apartment was a dream at that time. Simply put, the North Shore was packed like a can of sardines. Apparently everyone in 2020 had the same thoughts of desperately escaping home, wherever home may be.
Our issue back then was we hadn’t reserved a campsite, so we tried our backup… and the backup was full. Then we tried our backup-backup– Also full. That year we ended up driving an extra hour north to Grand Marais, MN to find a private campsite that thankfully wasn’t full capacity.
This year we knew the potential threat of full campsites, so we planned accordingly. This involved waking up for a 7am drive on a Friday morning to beat the RVs to the campgrounds. To our surprise, our first choice campsite wasn’t full. Not only was it not full– It also never even got to full capacity, with the 2 campsites across from us remaining empty the entire weekend. We figured with the state reopening indoor spaces, the crowds of people from last year no longer felt the desire to get outdoors, but that worked to our advantage in the end!
(For anyone wondering, we stay near Tettegouche State Park, due to its prime location halfway from everything except Grand Portage.)
Above: Eric and I acting for the camera. We were trying to convey a children’s horror or mystery novel cover. Think boxcar kids, or Fear Street by R.L. Stine.
The Wild Fires and the Fire Ban
I think everyone has heard of the wild fires experienced across the US and Canada, rising in frequency since last year even. Well, the Minnesota North Shore is no stranger to the phenomenon. While we were camping, areas such as the BWCA (The Boundary Waters Canoe Area) were on fire, or on high watch for fire activity. This wasn’t very far from where we were camping, and the national parks and state parks had rules before the weekend requesting that nobody create a fire on their camping trip.
Before heading that way, we decided to spend more time off-site from the campgrounds, just exploring local towns and nearby nature until dark. In the past, we’d make it back to the camp before sunset to start our fire and prepare dinner, but this time around, we opted for patio seating at a few local restaurants instead of cooking over fire. Ironically enough, after only packing the materials to make cold sandwiches and snacks, the parks changed their guidelines on the fires, allowing heavily monitored campfires at the last minute.
A little secret about Eric and I– is that whenever we go to see Lake Superior, (or anywhere else for that matter), it always rains. There are no exceptions to this, it’s just a fact of life we’ve come to accept. It even rained in So-Cal the one time we both went to California, so Eric + Me + traveling = rain, always.
So naturally, we went ‘up north’ during a nationwide drought and fire watch, and it rained all 3 days, whether it was scattered showers or full on pea-sized droplets. Of course, it was just our luck that we planned our entire trip with no cooking and no fire, and the fire ban was lifted after the fact, due to the rain that we clearly brought with us. Alas, we kept with the plan of snacking at camp, and eating our dinners at outdoor dining establishments!
“I tried to discover, in the rumor of forests and waves, words that other men could not hear, and I pricked up my ears to listen to the revelation of their harmony.”
-Gustave Flaubert, November
A shortened trip: 3 days, 2 nights
We didn’t even know until the day we got there that we were set on a 2 night trip. We camped at a state park campground that works on a “first come first served” basis. You drive through, pick a campsite, fill out a slip with your name and how long you plan to stay, then drop a check or cash in an envelope in a box. As we filled out the slip, we talked about doing only 2 nights, and figured that we could always fill out another slip and add our third day if we decided to stay for one more, but in the end we didn’t stay for the third night.
On our second day, I wandered into a bookstore called ‘Back Forty Books and Gallery’ in Two Harbors, MN, and I asked Eric if we could go back on Sunday for a semi-rare copy of Catch-22 I had found, but they planned to close by 4pm on Sunday, so we had to rush to get there. We drove the 1 hour south around 2:30pm after our extensive hike on Oberg Mountain, but that meant we’d miss out on one of Eric’s main list items, walking on the Black Beach– a beach with sand made from crushed iron ore, which he wanted me to see because he had gone there in the past.
I offered for us to go back to Black Beach, but Eric pointed out that the beach was 30 minutes behind us, and that would have added an hour or more to our trip back home. I felt pretty guilty for cutting out one of his main goals/wants off the list for a book, but he said the beach isn’t going anywhere, and we’ll check it out next time. I hoped there would be a next time before the snow took over the landscape for 5 months.
I was taken away by the gloomy mountains of Grand Marais, and the clouds that consumed them. These boats sit in the harbor, completely unbothered by the waves crashing behind them.
The best moments on the North Shore
At the time, I felt guilty that the detour to the Two Harbors bookstore ruined our trip, but in retrospect, our entire trip was gratitude-inducing, to say the least. Every year the trip to the Minnesota North Shore fills my soul with a wild and luscious feeling of gratitude toward nature in general.
I’m rarely without cell service, but walking on the tumbling gunmetal grey stones cresting the shoreline, I realize everything I experienced is a feeling that is only happening right then to me and anyone else in that place exclusively. Like, this is a moment we are all presently experiencing, and no one else is here with us right now… Also our phones don’t work.
The bookkeeper and the grand tour of classic literature rooms
The Back Forty Books and Gallery was so incredibly special to me, because the bookstore owner was taken by my book choice, and my second day return. This was a very old early edition of Catch-22, with blue canvas and red painted pages on the top, online listed as First Edition, but it’s likely a later edition. I actually couldn’t forget when I held the book on Saturday, so I insisted on returning Sunday. The Back Forty Books store keeper, Randy was elated to find a local bibliophile. Am I that bibliophile? I don’t think so, but I’m aspiring to one day meet that impression. He asked me my favorite authors, and I mentioned being a fan of Sylvia Plath, author of The Bell Jar, and he instantly led me to a dark, air-safe closet, where he stores his best rare copies of classics and contemporaries.
Showing me everything from a hardcover of Ira Levin’s book Rosemary’s Baby (a personal favorite I’ve read), and a rare hardcover copy of The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath, Randy explained that rare book prices drastically drop if you don’t have the original dust jacket. He, his wife, and his daughter run Back Forty Books & Gallery together (formerly known as Sweet Peas books) in Two Harbors, MN. Randy focuses on the rare books, and his wife and daughter focus on new books being released.
I knew I’d be a life-long customer when I was led to the best, most exclusive copies of the classics we all know and love. I love a good indie bookstore, and also a like-minded lover of the classics.
The rare edition of Catch-22 I bought at Back Forty Books and Gallery in Two Harbors, Minnesota. Thanks Randy!
The Enger Observatory Tower
We spent some time in Duluth, exploring the very well-acquainted Canal Park along with a walk in Enger Park, where the Enger Tower lives alongside a beautiful Japanese garden. Eric and I climbed the Enger tower with gusto, making our masked way to the top, with a grip of other observers. The wind rushed through the open spaces of the tower, making the crumpling sound in your ear that you’d only hear on the windiest of days. The view was breathtaking and worth the trip up about 4 stories.
We were excited to ring the bell from Japan in the Japanese Garden, but we didn’t get the chance. It was a popular tourist destination for families, so we waited behind a few families for our turn, but we decided to skip the bell for the moment to explore the other gardens and hiking paths. On a rocky path facing the lake, the rain started as a shower and led to a heavy pea-sized drop, throttling the tan earth beneath our feet. We were heavily soaked by the rain the region desperately needed. Eric and I laughed, drenched, looking at the faint image of the Canal, blurred by the dust and drips of the long-awaited water. Still laughing, we kissed under a thunderous cloud, and walked back to our car to make our way back home.
Eric on the hike through Oberg Mountain! (We don’t have any photos from the Enger Tower, sorry folks!)
Oberg Mountain and our great fungi sightings
Eric had told me of this mountain he hiked in the past with many gram-able photo-ops. I loved the idea of hiking a mountain in general, but during the pandemic, I watched a documentary called Fantastic Fungi (streaming on Netflix) and I had become fully obsessed with fungi. I swore that I would find some fungi or mushrooms on this hike. The views were spectacular and breathtaking, and the fungi were abundant!
This was a place we explored on our last day on the Minnesota North Shore, so we made sure to eat a sandwich from our cooler before heading up the mountain. Minnesota is know for extremely low elevation on our mountains, so you can climb even our highest peak in nearly 5 hours, round trip, and these are “moderate” hikes for most. This one was a small mount, near Lutsen, MN. The views were the main showstopper of this trail. Recreating a previous trip up Honeymoon Bluff, we packed snacks and alcoholic seltzer for the prime view. What can I say– we love to drink alcoholic beverages on the edge of a giant rock.
(See below: My fantastic fungi I found on the trail of Oberg Mountain!)
Me standing at the “prime view” of the Oberg Mountain (Pre-white claw and snacks) I was a happy hiker because the sky really cleared up by the time we reached the prime spot!
Grand Marais, MN never disappoints
As a child, I went to Grand Marais once every summer in August. I remember once I couldn’t contain myself any longer, and I leapt into Lake Superior in my dry clothes that were prepped for the trip, and my sister and cousins leapt in as well. We all laughed and let the 3 feet waves crush our tiny perfectly dressed bodies, as our Grandma Vicki and Grandpa Floyd laughed on the edge of the rocky beach. A core memory, I still hold dear to this day.
This small port-town always holds a special place in my heart. Whether it's the World’s Best Donuts, or the lighthouse at the end of a rocky pier, I can’t help but feel my body intrinsically return to my childhood self. Eric and I love Grand Marais and all the local businesses that inhabit it. As we drove away from this town shadowed by heavy rain clouds, I couldn’t help but leave that piece of me behind. I know I will be back someday, gathering that little piece of me once more, becoming 100 percent whole again, even if only for a small moment in time.
I jokingly climbed down toward the water in Grand Marais, MN, and I almost fell in! This was me climbing back up saying, “Okay maybe the rusty ladder isn’t the moment.”
Heading back home
After the bookstore, we strolled back into Duluth from the scenic drive along the coast. Right before entering Duluth, proper, there is a Marina that Eric and I had visited once before called McQuade Small Craft Harbor. We walked along the harbor, and then we took our shoes off and dipped our feet in the lake.
The lake is cold and when fully underwater it can overtake you with a chill that hits you to the bone. I’ve dived in with Eric in the past, and I felt an instantaneous loss of breath when the cold took my whole body in. This time, I held back, only allowing the lake to take the chill to my ankles. Eric always feels the urge to fully submerge himself in the lake often, as if he needs a fresh baptism annually. As the late and great Prince has said about Lake Minnetonka, Eric feels the need to “cleanse himself in the waters of Lake Superior,” and I understand that urge, wholeheartedly.
The same old Grand Marais lighthouse that after 20 years, I always come back to.
The drive home from the North Shore is the longest one you could ever know. The way up is full anticipation for what’s to come, and the time there is similar to a plant adjusting their roots to a newer and bigger pot. Once you’ve situated in your new soil, you are suddenly ripped up and transported back to a place that is similarly large, if not larger, but even though your roots are overgrown, you remain underfed.
Will someone like me ever fit into a place like Minneapolis again after leaving little pieces of myself in the woods and the lake? For now, I’m unsure.
