This is a view of West Munising Bay and Grand Island, taken from a high vantage point on a steep cliff that hugs the shore.

I should mention that it was 80º again that day and I'd been running around in shorts all day, sometimes too warm for comfort. However, that all changed rapidly from the moment we left Superior Falls. The drive to Ashland was increasingly ominous as a large storm blew in, which would impact the Lake Superior area dramatically for a long time to come.
While in Ashland, we stayed at (what I consider) an overpriced and sad Super 8. I much prefer the mom 'n' pop style motels, which for some reason feel more inviting. However, we had an incredible meal at The Deep Water Grille & South Shore Brewery. I had the shaved prime rib sandwich, which stands as the best sandwich I've ever had! If you're ever in Ashland, Wisconsin, stop here!
Though we had a busy day and were worn out, the hurricane force winds and driving rain kept us a bit electric into the night as we watched more reruns of Law and Order on TV (alternating with The Weather Channel) and were grateful for the large building to protect us from the dangerous elements outside. Losing power was a threat, but it didn't happen. We did sleep well, though, thanks to the soothing sound of the rain.
The destination was Superior, Wisconsin for the night, and we were unsure if the path to Superior would be clear, as there were many sections of the road where we drove through high water that was flowing over the road with currents!
On a whim, I turned the car when I saw a sign for Amnicon Falls, and we drove a bit out of the way for a falls I hadn't put on the itinerary or researched. When we got there, we were, again, overwhelmed with what we saw.
This falls is normally a calm flow of water, which allows swimming in the pools and walking on the rocks at the riverbed. According to the park ranger, only one other time had the water risen this high and been flowing so violently, so we were definitely seeing it in an unusual state.
They are much rougher than they look. I expected something smooth and slightly dolphin-like, but they feel bumpier and not at all smooth. Too cool!
While I was trying to keep myself entertained, I found myself drawn to the reptiles and amphibians, as usual. This turtle and I basked together. He held still and didn't blink for much, much longer than me. Clearly he had the personality necessary for a lengthy stay at the aquarium, which I did not.
We also stopped at a rock shop in town, where I got to see some rare samples of something I was hunting with determination: thomsonite. Thomsonite is found in only two places on earth. One is on Thomsonite Beach just south of Grand Marais, Minnesota, and the other is another part of the world somewhere (I can't remember where), but the stones differ in color. The MN thomsonite is a beautiful rock that consists of shades of pink and rings of green in concentric circles, found on chunks of basalt. While I hadn't seen any up close, I knew I just had to find some on this trip. At the shop, I saw some yummy samples of tumbled and polished stones, and others that had been fashioned into jewelry. There was a large sample on display of what it looks like still attached to the basalt, and I put the image to memory. I was determined to find some myself.
We spent some quality time searching for agates on a beach just north of Two Harbors, and found some small pieces. The cold made it painful to stand and walk around the rocky beach, so I chose to sit and my boyfriend laid on his belly on the rocks. Somehow, the rounded rocks were comfortable and it felt warmer the closer we were to the ground, perhaps because the wind resistance was minimized. We could've easily spent the day sifting through rocks there, but onward we pushed.
Our next stop was Gooseberry Falls.
We should have known from the size of the parking lot that it was going to be unlike the waterfalls we love most -- remote, natural and few people. Oh, Gooseberry Falls was nice, but it was like Disneyland, waiting in line for access to a particular viewing spot, people everywhere! We explored it intensely, but I doubt we'd ever go back.
The beauty was unquestionable.
The water was delightful as it flowed over the rocks.
But every attempt to take a photo of the falls with a wide angle view failed. People were infesting the falls and we quickly grew tired of it.
The sun was coming out in bursts between the puffy white clouds, highlighting and shadowing different areas of the falls in ever-changing ways, which made my nerve endings buzz with elation. However, the competition for good spots to occupy and the sheer volume of people wandering close to the falls on the rocks, quite a few with their dogs, really ruined it for me. What on earth could dogs appreciate about this? I swear, half the people there had dogs. It was like a dog park more than anything. And let me tell you, the dogs looked as irritated as I was. It was a nice area, but unless I could get all the other people to leave, I was going to have to pass on it in the future.
From there we went to Split Rock Lighthouse, the single most photogenic lighthouse I've ever seen.
The wayside before the turnoff for the lighthouse provided a really nice view, and at one point, I swear I was seeing double as I approached the prime locations.
Up close, Split Rock Lighthouse is just as alluring.
We got to explore a recently renovated keeper's house, where the home was decorated as it would have been 100 years ago when the keeper lived there. In the keeper's house and in the lighthouse as well were folks dressed in costumes representing the same era, and for a moment, I froze, and battled with bizarre thoughts in my head. Were they real? Or were they ghosts? Was I hallucinating? No one mentioned that there would be costumed people pretending to work in the buildings. Are they real?
They were. But it felt so authentic and so surreal that I wasn't sure.
Walking around the lighthouse situated on top of Split Rock with a sheer drop to the water below, I was sick with fear. I trembled more from terror than the bitter cold and whipping wind. That was one frightening view! Yet the lighthouse was stunning, immaculate, and felt as much like a safe harbor for my fear as I'm sure it did for sailors. It definitely had an ominous look.
And the dramatic view of the landscape below was really something.
We left Split Rock at sunset and I was a bit frantic. We were supposed to have made it to the Canadian border by the end of the day, but we were nowhere near it. And it was getting dark fast. We had to decide whether to drive the long distance to get closer to the border and miss all the North Shore scenery, or stay somewhere close overnight, putting us one day behind. We decided to be a day behind and find a room right away.
Sometimes decisions are made for us and our minds are involuntarily changed.
There were no rooms. In any towns nearby. They were full from Two Harbors up. Each town offered the promise of a half dozen motels, all without vacancies, and we drove further and further in the pitch black. Not only did we miss the scenery along the North Shore, but we were occupying the roads when the moose come out. That was another fear: I'd hit a moose. It stressed me out and kept me from ever wanting to drive after dark. As if it didn't weigh heavy enough on my mind, every few miles there were signs warning of moose in the area.
We drove and drove, stopped places where people actually felt so sorry for us not having a room that they called towns ahead and checked for vacancies for us. One person said that we should just go straight to Thunder Bay, Ontario, because there wouldn't be a vacancy this side of the border.
Luckily, we found a room in Grand Marais. It wasn't pretty, but it had vaulted ceilings and heat, which was good! We were about 80 miles from Canada and had missed a huge chunk of the North Shore, but we had a room and weren't going to have to sleep in the car on the side of the road somewhere. With the moose.
While I did expect to see Indians in Duluth or Bayfield, I didn't, and here we were in Grand Portage, which I didn't know was a reservation until we saw the sign, I found myself staring with glee at the real Indians. Not some politically correct Native Americans -- which I'm told they hate and would rather be called "Indians," and who can blame them? I'm not talking about some lame, Hollywood actor with a spray on bronze and a long braid wig. Of all the cultures in all the world, that of the Indian is most engrossing to me. While we learned about the Indians in school (and very little in my area), their attempted extermination is not referred to as a holocaust or genocide, though it really was. The more I learn about the little freedoms they have with our country and government, the more bitter I feel about the whole thing. However, I have to say, if all the reservations look as beautiful as Grand Portage, they at least have that.
I read some fascinating facts about the Indians in and around Duluth; they have their own tribal license plates, and don't have to have the ones belonging to the state orbenefitedd by the government. Also, whenever land on the shore of Lake Superior becomes available for sale, they often try to buy it, to preserve the lake and take back what we have destroyed. It just makes me wonder how different things would be if they ran the show. So, visiting a reservation was an honor for me.
Just driving through it was great. Look at the typical view we had on the road.
Everywhere the eye could see was this!
We stopped at a tiny little gallery, where an Indian artisan had set up shop, displaying her beading work. We spoke with her at length, and she did a terrific job of explaining the different style stitches she used, some taught by her grandmother and some new ones. I bought a beaded bracelet, which I love, but it's too big for my wrist, so I'm looking for a way to make it smaller.
Reaching the Canadian border was a scary thing. We'd been warned and were terrified we wouldn't be able to get in because my boyfriend didn't have his birth certificate or other proof of birthplace. It was a constant fear we swallowed and didn't talk about much. The idea of having to turn back and miss Canada was too devastating to consider, so when we reached the border, I was on the verge of a breakdown. The stoic woman manning the booth at the border asked for identification, which we had, and she asked why we wanted to visit Canada and for how long. I tried to be as friendly and perky as possible, to come across as a harmless piece of dust on an unusedknickknackk, which must have worked because she waved us through without hesitation! We were in Canada! Yay!
We stopped immediately at the tourist center once across the border, if just to catch our breath and celebrate our entry. The young guy working inside gave us all kinds of brochures for the Thunder Bay area and some hotel suggestions as well. But what I really wanted to know was, had he seen any moose. He admitted that though the signs are everywhere and the warnings are intense, he'd not yet seen a moose in his entire time working for the tourist center. Shucks! If the locals aren't seeing them, the odds are not good that we will either!
The drive to Thunder Bay was every bit as gorgeous as the drive through Grand Portage, seeming to be just a continuation of the splendor. The Sawtooth Mountains are so awesome in the fall, I can't imagine how much of a thrill it would be for the locals when the colors start to show. What a show! We did notice that the color change included only yellow. No red or orange around. It turns out that this is typical of the region all the way around the north side of the lake. Interesting fact that I'll have to research more when I have an opportunity.
We found a cheap room in Thunder Bay, right in the heart of the city, grabbed a fairly poor meal at a fast food Mexican restaurant and some reduced-price donuts at a local shop (because it was after 6 PM and they are two for the price of one). The food would disappear quickly that night, but the donuts, since we bought a dozen and got a dozen free, would rattle in my backseat and disgust me for the remainder of the trip.
The night was quiet and we really enjoyed our room. Sometimes the price does not indicate quality!
Once again, the trees of gold and green were everywhere.