Lake Superior: The Greatest of the Great Lakes part 2

Crossing into Canada, I got a lot more questions from Canadian Border Patrol than I had at my previous border crossing. The questions mostly centered around my actual plans to return to the US—which, fair enough. I was driving my house, and I don’t have a job. When I answered that I needed to go volunteer at a running event in Colorado in early August, the agent seemed a little dubious, but she let me in anyway.

The area I’d been driving on the US side of Lake Superior was fairly sparse, but it turned out that was nothing compared to the Canadian side. Signs constantly indicated when the next gas station would be, and those numbers were always in the triple digits. I didn’t mind the remoteness, though. My preference is to spend as much of this time as possible in nature, not in cities or towns.

My first couple of nights were spent at a campground on the southern end of Lake Superior Provincial Park. Fortunately, the wildfire smoke cleared up the day after I arrived. The weather was great, and I got in an easy five-mile hike right from my campground hugging the shores of Lake Superior.

Living Without Regrets (Except for One Photo)

My next campsite was in the northern part of the park. En route, I saw a road sign for a petroglyph trail. I find petroglyphs fascinating and have hiked to a few in the Southwest, but I’d never seen them in this part of the world. I was totally out of cell service, so I couldn’t check the route on AllTrails, but the sign indicated it was only about 0.6 km. I thought: How hard can that be?

I’ve mentioned before that I'm trying to live this phase of my life without regrets, only to immediately bring up a regret. I’m about to do that again.

I made it to the last 100 feet of this trail, noped out, and turned right back around. Turning around is not my regret. My regret is not taking a picture of what I noped out of so you all could see why I did it.

To reach the petroglyphs, you had to take stairs down to a steep rock slope on the very edge of Lake Superior ("edge" is honestly too strong a word, there was no edge). There was a chain to hold onto so you didn’t fall directly into the lake. On a calm, clear day, maybe I would have tried it. It was not a clear day. The lake was choppy, waves were crashing over the chain, and on-and-off rain made the bare rock slick. I am highly uncoordinated. This was not the trail for me.

So I turned around and headed to camp.

Nokomis Trail & Pukaskwa National Park

Sticking with the theme of doing something that brings me joy every day, I spent the next afternoon on another trail. That’s really the theme of this whole chapter of my life: anytime the weather was permitting—and sometimes even when it wasn't—I hiked.

I tackled the Nokomis Trail, just a short drive from my campground. It easily became one of my favorite hikes of this leg. At just under three miles, it was a little on the short side, but it was a loop that started with a solid climb and ended with a smooth descent. What more can you ask for?

My next destination was Pukaskwa National Park. The weather was not my friend for most of my stay, but the park itself was stunning. I did a couple of short hikes and lost close to a pint of blood to mosquitoes, but it was worth it.

A lot of this landscape reminds me of Montana or Idaho—lots of pine trees and exposed gray rock. But once you get deep into the forests, it’s almost reminiscent of the tropics. Everything is so insanely green, with ferns and moss carpeting the ground. Just gorgeous.

Biking, Paddling, and Entitled Campers

My final days in Canada were spent at Sleeping Giant Provincial Park outside of Thunder Bay. This park is massive and has a little bit of everything: great trails, a lake to paddle on, and a cute historic harbor town you can bike to directly from the campground (I did all three). It was a perfect way to wrap up my time in Canada for now.

Crossing back into Minnesota, I spent one night at a state park outside of Grand Marais—a super charming town I’d love to explore more when I have time. I ended up leaving camp early, though, because most of my fellow campers were completely ignoring a strict fire ban. The sheer level of entitlement required to light a campfire while active wildfires are burning nearby is something I will never understand. I didn't want to spend another night around people like that.

Full Circle in Duluth

I officially ended my Lake Superior loop right where I started it: in Duluth.

Now, I’m making my way back down to Colorado to—you guessed it—volunteer for that running event. I’m stopping to visit friends and family along the way. I have "concepts of a plan" for what I’m going to do during the two free weeks I have after Colorado, but nothing is locked down yet.

That uncertainty is a little uncomfortable for me, but honestly, pushing past that comfort zone is what this entire journey is about.