Category: Life at Tuscarora Lodge

Granite River Day Trip after the Ham Lake Fire

We paddled the Granite River on July 11th, and it was beautiful! We were worried about the effects of the Ham Lake fire, and now we’re delighted. It feels like a blueberry farmer went in to burn off the undergrowth to cultivate the area for blueberries. The plants are happily invading any areas of black soil.
 
The camper entry quota has been reduced, so that only one group per day is allowed into Magnetic Lake….we didn’t see any other campers; we had all of the unburned blueberry patches to ourselves. I HIGHLY recommend it for travel—if you can get one of the few permits left. You can see by the photos that the burned trees are spotty. Only Larch Lake shoreline burned completely—but the island was not touched.
Note: The temporary cell tower was taken down so that there is no longer cell service on the Gunflint Trail. All of the land lies are working better than ever.

07-07-07

07-07-07
At 7:07pm the Tuscarora staffers had a little party in the crew cabin. We played Heads-up-Seven Up (think elementary school) and drank 7Up. We think it was quite a bit warmer than 77 degrees in there, and had to follow up with a swim.

I hear that there were a lot of folks getting married in Las Vegas on this lucky day!

Minnesota Bound

Bill Sherck (Man about the Woods) and Nick Claussen (photographer extraordinaire) joined a group of local educators tripping into Tuscarora, Gillis, Peter– studying the plants and wildlife of the woods.

We had a blast, we planned future trips exploring the landscape, and we experienced ALL kinds of weather. If you are in the range of KARE 11 TV, watch for us on MN Bound in late July or early August.

Phones!!

The Mastec guys (contracted through Century Tel phone company) finished connecting every last phone on the Gunflint Trail. Hooray! A crew of them has been staying at Tuscarora—some in cabins and some in Bunkhouses 5 and 6. They eat breakfast at 6am, take bag lunches , and return to Tuscarora at 9 or 10pm.
We’ve grown fond of them—they are a hardworking bunch. The phones were supposed to be connected by July 15th—and they completed the entire task in the buggy wet ditches of June.
When you live this far out in the woods technology progress is limited—we are perhaps less inclined to take it all for granted–sometimes. A few weeks ago the phones were on the fritz—Mastec Marvin said there was too much “froggin’ of the lines” going on—adding folks on Iron Lake or other burned areas to existing systems— overloading them for a weekend. YIKES!!! What if somebody out there NEEDS us! We HAVE to have phones.
Later I was running errands in Duluth with my incredibly consistent cell phone. I was delighted that my list of contacts brought friends from far places to the touch of a button. Presto, I was talking to Kay and Joe in Seattle. Is that not remarkable when you think about it? Most astonishing to me still are all of those people sitting in airplanes, suspended in the air. I know how airplanes work, I just can’t believe that they really can get those heavy things off of the ground.
On a trip last week, I just barely got cell reception on Gillis Lake. I’m usually one that doesn’t have strong feelings AGAINST cell phones. I’m pro choice on that matter—I figure that people can say yea or nay, and they don’t bother me. It was comforting and convenient to bring the phone, yet when I actually used it for 30 seconds the connection made the wilderness feel less remote, and interfered with our ‘closed’ group. Were the convenience and safety worth bringing the outside world into our haven? I might have to say definitely not, but I think I’ll still stash the phone in the first aid kit next to the epi-pen next time—depending upon if and when Verizon takes the temporary cell tower down.
We now have wireless technology at Tuscarora. I listened to the staff at lunch discussing “ground rules” regarding the Internet—they don’t want to nag each other, but they also came here to get away from the technology scene—and don’t want it to interfere with relationships with each other. These free spirited young people don’t particularly like rules— this issue isn’t something that I ever considered at age 20. I admire them for the ways they are deliberately choosing to live and I’m reminded of the ways that the technological world creeps up on all of us when we’re not paying attention.

Ditchweeds


The wildflowers are in full bloom. They are as happy as I’ve ever seen them. It has been a cheerful June, with the continued promise of a great blueberry crop. We are currently scouting the hot picking spots….

A newer ditch weed is actually an import—pink and purple Lupine have taken hold along the Gunflint Trail and the side roads. They’re very beautiful—and remind us of one of Granny’s favorite books from Maine (Mrs. Rumphius—the Lupine Lady). My friend Laurel, a landscaper in Minneapolis area struggles to grow Lupine in peoples’ gardens. A very popular suburban want-a-flower.

The habitat must be just right in Cook County for these pink and purple beauties. However, as transplants,—they are a hearty invasive species, taking over the local plants. The woods are changing for those local plants—suddenly more sun is available in some of the burned areas. So the shade loving woodland plants don’t necessarily thrive in the open.

The Gunflint Trail isn’t native to these woods, and neither are the dry rocky ditches. As I investigate more, I understand that orange hawkweed aren’t native, nor are the birdfoot trefoil. Now I’m starting to feel guilty about my favorites..

I’m very interested in the discussion, and in the harm that transplants, both plants and animals, do to the local biosphere. I understand that some of the burned areas are most susceptible to infestation, and landowners are proceeding carefully, reseeding their properties with native seed mixes. I also am reminded of some of Michael Pollan’s ideas (The Botany of Desire) —regarding plant adaptations. Aren’t the Lupine evolutionarily clever? They are so beautiful that they have conned humans into transplanting them here—thus ensuring their survival. Isn’t this a “smart’ seed transportation strategy? Should we humans be more aware of the ways that the plants are manipulating us?

I’ve witnessed what the Kudzo has done to the woods in North Carolina—I’ve seen what Eurasian Milfoil has done to the lakes in Minneapolis, and purple loosestrife to the cattails—I am very sensitive to the idea of invasive species, especially during this time of forest regeneration. I’d never advocate planting or transplanting any Lupine, but the noxious weeds still make me (guiltily) happy. All things considered, it is a fascinating time to be looking down at the exponential growth happening on the forest floor.