Kilpelän Luomutila ja Sen Ympäristö: Return to Wolf Point

We have been camping at Wolf Point since 1995, often several times a summer, but less in recent years, and not at all for the past two years. So when we got unseasonably warm weather in mid-September and a favorable marine forecast (i.e. south winds and calm to one foot waves) it was time to break out of our ruts.

There's nothing quite like paddling on a glassy sea. It is not the norm for Lake Superior.

Most of the beach is under water now with the high lake level.

A young eagle.

Almost to the point.

Once landed, we unloaded the canoe, pitched the tent and set up camp. The sun was hot and we were ready to cool off in the lake.

In September, with an offshore wind, the lake can be quite chilly. Marja went in for a quick dip.

I however needed a real swim to cool off. Thermomass has its advantages you know.

The warm breeze dried us off quickly.

Time for coffee, a bagel with cream cheese and a good book - here Wendell Berry's latest book, The Art of Loading Brush. Berry, a self-described agrarian, is an advocate of small farms, small places and local economies. He is one of the deepest, most eloquent writers I have ever read. We agree on many, but not all things, and it is always a challenge to read him.

Unless you knew that this shore runs north/south and had paddled a canoe a bit on big water, you probably would not notice that these small wavelets were coming from the south, offshore from the main bay. There isn't enough fetch, i.e. open water, for them to develop into big waves. But turn that same wind around so that it blows out of the north and those waves would have plenty of open water to grow. We always pay attention to wind direction the big lake.

Marja reading in the shade with a towel over her feet. Our old friends, the ankle biters (flesh flies) were taking advantage of the warm weather to try for a quick meal. They easily bite through one layer of socks. Wolf Point is a wonderful place to camp, but you need to willing to share it with flesh flies, wood ticks and the occasional black bear.

The actual point. Our campsite is in a small field about a hundred yards from here, the site of an old logging landing.

This is a tough place to live, but these plants call it home.

Mountain ash berries.

The sandstone at Wolf Point is continually eroding. Water gets in a cracks, freezes and expands. In time storm-driven waves break the chunks loose and pile them against the bedrock.

Heading back toward our campsite.

Home sweet home.

Our kitchen counter, a sandstone shelf.

Spaghetti always hits the spot.

Evening shadows.

Reading Wendell Berry. The evening was still quite warm, but I needed a longsleeve shirt against the mosquitoes (did I forget to mention that our unusually wet summer has produced an outstanding crop of mosquitoes?) There was a nice cool breeze close to the lake.

A small flock of Canada geese, perhaps right out of Canada, flew off the lake in a straight line. We heard them far out in the lake before I spotted them with binoculars. They appeared to be flying only a few feet over the water and only rose as they approached land. They were flying into a light south wind and I imagine it was lightest a few feet above the water.

Our bonfire. The steady breeze out of the south blew all the smoke out into the lake. On most occasions your campfire smoke will blow in your face, no matter where you sit, so this was a rare treat for us. We sat by the fire until the sky was full of stars before retiring to the tent. We slept moderately well. You never sleep really well the first night out. It takes one night to get used to sleeping in a sleeping bag on an inflatable mattress. Unfortunately we were only staying for one night.

Sunrise. I have always gotten up in time to watch the sunrise at Wolf Point. In June that means getting up around 5:30. In September it's more like 7:30. I get a potful of water from the lake and put it on the stove to boil, so that I can greet the sun with a cup of coffee in hand. It's little details that make life pleasurable. Mornings are wonderful and best enjoyed with leisure. I cannot understand how people can get up at the last minute, bolt down their breakfast and rush out the door.

Gulls are early risers as well.

Wolf Point protocol dictates that you greet the sun with a cup of coffee and a bagel.

Getting ready...

The sun foretells its imminent appearance by painting the upper edge of the cloud bank gold.

The rocks of the point bathed in the warm red glow of the sunrise.

The sun has now risen into the next layer of clouds....

Leaving a ghostlike layer of clouds beneath it.

Breakfast. Hot oatmeal with brown sugar, butter and raisins, our traditional fare when camping.

Dishwashing is simple. You fill the pan with small fragments of sandstone and swirl it about in the water like you were panning for gold.

Presto!

If you feel like you still would like to use a brush, there are plenty available.

Reloading the canoe. Marja held it near the rock while I piled on the packs. One of the decadent aspects of canoe camping is that you easily take too much stuff.