Northern Light Overlook Trail

The North Shore Hiking Guide describes it as “Difficult but short.” A more accurate description of the Northern Light Overlook Trail off the Gunflint Trail north of Grand Marais would be “Difficult, almost vertical, one-half-mile climb that seems infinite, over exposed roots, sharp rocks, large outcroppings, moss and mud. The breeze will disappear soon after you leave the parking lot and begin the climb through the woods. A variety of bugs will welcome you, keep you constant company, and suck your blood. Take water so you can at least feel like you’re doing something to survive. Also take identification, just in case. If you think the trek up is tough, be prepared for the lack of sure footing on the way down. Note that you’re the only one on the trail. There’s a reason for this.”

But the guide does get one thing right: “Outstanding vistas in several directions above Northern Light Lake.”

Superior North Shore

A perfect day on the North Shore of Lake Superior (sun, partly cloudy, 78 degrees), and a solo walk on Pincushion Mountain, three or four miles. Very few other people, a family of four, a couple, and two other solo men; this is mostly a cross-country ski trail, not a hiking trail. For no reason but nothing else to do I try without any knowledge at all to identify the dozen or so bird calls I hear of the birds I cannot see and could not recognize if I had brought my binoculars and bird book. I imagine coming upon a moose or bear or even wolf, but know there aren’t any here in what is only marginally wilderness (how backcountry can it be to hear the semis occasionally boring down Minnesota Highway 61 some 1000 feet below). The trail is broad, about eight feet across, and recently mown, and mostly in sun, and not at all a backwoods feel. But the granite outcropping that rises at trail’s end at mountain crest is impressive and offers a 360-degree view of Grand Marais and the Gunflint Trail and Lake Superior and further to Canada. And then near the return to the trailhead, lost in the woods and bird calls and occasional views across the lake, my cellphone rings. It’s Mike from the bike shop in Grand Marais and they’ve fixed my warped wheel. I say I’ll be there in half an hour. And any sense of wilderness vanishes with “End Call.”