Last Superior paddle for 2011?

Last Sunday morning found me leaving the detrius of the Grouse Kill and heading to Red Cliff for an attempted rendezvous with an intrepid foursome coming the Oak 1 site on the south spit. Early rising and an early departure from that event is more easily said than done for multiple reasons, but I figured that only two nights camping would leave enough room in their hatches for at least thirty plus cans of Surly Furious, which would put us on roughly the same schedule. I was wrong. Just as I was launching I was surprised by the PunctualGerman and ManFromSnowyLegs coming around the breakwall with RonO and Newman close behind. They tried to persuade me that Fitgers Brewing would be a good place to be since it was raining lightly and the wind was building, but I was geared up and ready to paddle. I will also admit that after the Grouse Kill weekend the thought of more beer was not a primary motivator.


When I rounded the Red Cliff breakwater I was the only person on the lake. I met some bowhunters at the launch who were coming off Basswood Island with three deer in their boats. They were from a combination of Wisconsin locations, including Rhinelander and the Reedsberg area, and were obviously experienced guys as I checked out their clothes, boats, and gear. They had hauled bows and tree stands to Basswood and had a great weekend with a productive, quality, and out of the ordinary hunting adventure. The fact that they were experienced guys was driven home when one of them asked me, as I prepared to launch and wished them good luck, "Are you gonna be safe out there all by your lonesome?". That question was echoed Thursday by a Lake Superior sailor, actually a competitor in my business, as we stood, bored as two humans could be, at an industry trade show in downtown Minneapolis. He said his wife always insisted on heading back to port when thunderstorms were in the forecast and the 'is it safe?' was always the primary concern out on the big lake. He asked the same question as the bowhunters when I told him about what may be my last kayak trip on Gitchee Gumee for the season.

While a person is never perfectly safe solo on Lake Superior I felt that I was plenty safe. I never want to be 'perfectly safe', I find that even more boring than a Medical Device Manufacturer's trade show if that's possible. I will admit that I did mentally run through my gear list when it became apparent that Fitgers and not Basswood Island was beckoning the Oak Island quartet. Radio with charged batteries, paddle float/bilge pump, first aid kit, dry suit, pfd, spare paddle,whistle, light....check, check, and check. The wind was building from the south, the waves were beginning to cap with about a 20 mile fetch from Ashland, and the rain was intermittent with water temp around 45F and the air just about the same. It was a day when some fun could be had and I certainly had some. I paddled straight across to the Basswood dock to check out the new construction. It's good that the area is out of the wilderness zone. I'd hate to have to put in a new dock with an army of people with shovels. Or would a shovel be a 'mechanical assist'? There are some interesting requirements when we invent a wilderness area. The second wave of fall colors was evident after the red maple leaves had dropped and the golds and yellows of the oak and aspen were in full swing and the smell of fall combined with the fresh smell of the lake was intoxicating. I paddled south to the floating rock at the north end of Basswood, thought about crossing to Oak but was too lazy to paddle back upwind so I snuck south along the shoreline to the south end of Basswood where all the individual campsites are located. I would not have wanted to attempt a landing there with the south wind but, as I mentioned, I was by myself so no one needed to attempt a landing.
I have friends in the area that paddle solo most of the time, either due to spur of the moment decisions where no other paddlers are available, or just to clear the cobwebs from the brain. I rarely have the opportunity to paddle solo, social animal that I am, but I must say I savor the freedom from time to time. The decision not to hit Oak, seen looming between Red Cliff Pt and the north end of Basswood above, required no debate or discussion. I just edged the Explorer, took a couple sweep strokes for the 180, and down the shore of Basswood I went. Not only did I feel (almost) perfectly safe but I also had the feeling that I was the only guy in the Apostle Islands National Lakeshore that was on the water. I could see a long, long way and no sail, motor noises, wakes, or paddle flashes were evident. I guess that's what made it the great paddle that it was, the mix of solitude, self reliance, and quality thinking time on my favorite body of water.

Lake Superior Herring....or is it Cisco?

I ate some herring last night. Actually I ate lots of herring last night. This was not pickled herring, the modifier our brains typically put in front of the word 'herring', or the disgusting creamed herring that some of my relatives of Scandanavian descent savor. This was fresh, sweet Lake Superior herring, prepared by some of the best executive chefs in the area, and served as part of an event sponsored by Minnesota Sea Grant called A Salute to Lake Superior's Sustainable Fisheries. Restaurants like Fire Lake Grill House, Stella's Fish Cafe, and the Oceanaire Seafood Room were involved in creating the entrees, which were judged in a competition endorsed by the American Culinary Federation, with a grand prize of $1,000. A cash bar was available and Michael Monroe, the eclectic Grand Marais singer/songwriter came down, along with the herring, from Grand Marais, MN to perform at the event. It was his website that alerted the VOR, a big fan along with her sisters, of this event. I kinda favor Jimmy Page and Robert Plant but the music was fine.

The event was held on the U of M campus in the McNamara Alumni Center, a building that always rankles me a bit because they tore down Memorial Stadium to build it and then played losing football for 25 years at the giant, sterile, teflon smelling pot pie, the HHH Metrodome downtown. Now there is a brand spanking new outdoor stadium right across the street. It is a great space however, and the event was wonderful for both the VOR, a big sustainable local food advocate in her job of feeding 11,000 kids a day, and for me, an 'early herring adaptor' according to the VOR. In the little restaurants around the lake a diner can get herring in season and I always order it. Places like the Angry Trout in Grand Marais, MN, Don & GG's in Ironwood, MI, and the Village Inn in Cornucopia, WI have lake herring on the menu, especially now during the spawning season when a lot of the catch is harvested. I noticed the 'fresh herring' sign on the Halvorsen's Commercial Fishery operation in Cornie on my way through Sunday, but they were closed. As good as the herring entrees are at those restaurants, the chefs at the McNamara Center last night took it to another level. Herring and fresh micro greens salad garnished with herring caviar, blue cheese risotto with sauteed herring and a squash based reduction, mashed parsnips with coriander, caramelized apples with Panko breaded herring, Nepalese dumplings with saffron infused herring and a lentil sauce............hell yeah I ate some herring; I ate a pile of herring and so did most everyone else at the event. As you can see from the food shots with my lovely 'herring model' the food was outstanding and I'm glad I wasn't the judge, although my favorite, an entree that I had to sample twice just to make sure, won the silver medal.

I spoke with most of the chefs and this was the first time that many had been exposed to fresh Lake Superior herring and all were impressed by the quality of the fish. One compared it to the reef fish that he would buy from fishermen when he learned his trade in Hawaii and said that if there was a distribution system that could get the herring here as fresh as the ocean fish that are flown in daily, it would be a great seller. That and coming up with another name. He mentioned that he once served Lake Superior Whitefish as 'freshwater char' and it flew out of the kitchen. It reminds me of the conversation I had with a brewer in St Louis about his 'session IPA'. I told him it tasted suspicously similiar to a good bitter or ESB and he confessed that he had indeed brewed a bitter. He said that people shy away from the word 'bitter' (speak for yourself buddy) and that he sold a lot more 'session IPA' than had he called his beer bitter, even though they were identical brews. I talked the Red Rocks crew from Iowa and Nebraska into some fresh whitefish at the Village Inn in Cornie when we were storm bound and they all raved about it. Yet I suspect a few burgers would have been ordered had I not pointed out the virtues of the whitefish, which came out of the lake about 4 hours earlier.

You can read about the rebound of the herring population in Gitchee Gumee and its life cycle here. There is also a recipe or two on this site. It's a great fish, high on Omega 3's, and it tastes wonderful as well, a claim that can not be made for all 'healthy' foods. It dovetails nicely with the Eat Local and sustainable food movements and it's great on the grill. In fact I may need to talk the GurneyGranny into picking up some fresh herring on the way to deer camp this weekend.

Next time you are in a restaurant around the lake and see herring or cisco on the menu, give it a shot. You won't be disappointed and perhaps the lake herring, which the taxonomists now officially refer to as cisco, can filter its way inland and become a staple like the venerated walleye, a fish not nearly as interesting in the taste department as the lake herring.....sorry, the cisco.

Multitasking at the Annual Grouse Kill weekend

Last weekend was the long standing Annual Grouse Kill up at Camp O near the Wisconsin-Northern Michigan border. This is typically the weekend that reminds me that fall is in full swing and its time to dial the kayak activity back and ramp up shotgun, bow and arrow, and rifle related focus. It's also a time to hang with friends, cronies, ne'er do wells, and other folks that are seen only once or maybe twice a year. It's a weekend where a person can do pretty much whatever they want to, as many times as they want to. For some this weekend results in sore muscles, others hangovers that require sleeping until noon, and yet others a more sharpened focus on issues of the day. It's similar to the line from the old Arlo Guthrie tune, "You can get anything you want at Alice's Restaurant".

The Bar That Never Closes is the focal point for the dining, music, and adult beverage intake at this event and the liberating feeling of not having to worry about 'last call' is a freedom that some are unable to manage. A professional musician, who shall remain nameless, allegedly forgot the words to one of his bread and butter songs, The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald, after perhaps one too many duets with our pal Jose Cuervo. More than one keg went through the Karl O. Rohlich Memorial tapper but no one got anywhere near a motor vehicle, which is another charming aspect of the weekend.

There is some work to be done this weekend although I'm not sure if the dock and pontoon pulling was ever accomplished. Winter is harsh with several feet of snow in the area and things need to be buttoned down and boarded up. Wood needs to be made since that is the only form of central heat in the majority of the buildings in the complex. The water needs to be dealt with because frozen pipes are never any fun, and a number of other things need to handled to avoid headaches in the spring when the opening of the complex, the Annual Bark Bay Fishing Invitational, is held. One new addition to the joint was a wood fired pizza and bread oven that was utilized quite effectively and also used to cook the prime rib dinner for Saturday night.

One of the aspect of the fall that we enjoy/suffer with is the Wisconsin Badger football team. For the second week in a row hearts were broken and spirits stomped upon by a last second defensive choke. The WoodFondlingBarrister, a man who would overlook almost any scandal or 3.7% graduation rate if only they would win consistently, is shown in these two photos the first at the very height of elation as the Badger offense scores with under two minutes left to take the lead. The feverish high fives began when the radio annoucer screamed (question from the VOR: "why do they always have to yell all the time?".) TOUCHDOWN WISCONSI!!. The suicidal appearance in the second image is after the Badger defense forgets that covering receivers in the end zone is a key aspect to winning close games, an issue eerily reminiscent of last Saturday night in East Lansing. We were able to calm him down and steer him over to the poker table, where he was summarily cleaned out, before he could do harm to himself or others.

Even though the name of this event is the Annual Grouse Kill no grouse were harmed in this years production. Theywere pursued though, and at least three were scared badly by a loud noise and a cloud of shotgun pellets passing either above, below, in front of, or behind them. The population swings up and down on a 10 year cycle which biologists haven't really figured out yet and it would seem that we are somewhere in the middle of that cycle this year.

On a more serious note a bunch of us toured the proposed site of what the GTAC mining company would like to be the Gogebic iron mine, less than five miles from Camp O. I will write more on this in another post, but it is some beautiful land with lots of streams, waterfalls, and other natural assets. The range is clearly visible as the Podman, plat book in hand, points it out to the group. Turning it from the Gogebic range into Gogebic valley is something that needs some long, hard thinking and research.

I ended the weekend on Lake Superior, possibly the last paddle of the year on the big lake. There was a nice south wind with surfable waves and I was the only person on the water that I could see for 20 miles in any direction. I paddled around Lake O Saturday and confirmed that the water is indeed turning over, and that I should have worn gloves when rolling. The 180F sauna was very welcome after that chilly session. It was a great weekend to paddle but wandering through the woods with a shotgun, smelling the leaves and breathing the crisp fall air had definitely triggered the hunting season in my head. I will get out on the water, most notably the annual Gales of November paddle honoring the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald on 10 November but my mental switch has been flipped. Out to da blind as they say in northen Wisconsin and the UP.

Sea kayak Ireland

We did not manage to get into boats while in Ireland and in fact saw very few sea kayaks in harbors and quay areas. We did notice a fair number of river kayaks and the water was running high and fast due to the rains from the Shannon estuary up to Clew Bay in Mayo. The sea kayaking potential in the area seems to be phenomenal though. Islands, sea stack, sea caves, and both exposed areas and sheltered bays appear to be tailor made to get out in a boat and play. Here are a few spots that would seem to be perfect.

Ballyvaughn is a small village on the south side of Galway Bay. It has one of the finer seafood pubs I've been in, Monk's Pub right on the water, and a dangerous whiskey bar that has a dazzling array of rare Irish whiskey and an independent owner that opens when he damn well feels like it, usually around 4 or 5pm. I have done three cycling tours with Irish Cycling Safaris, a Dublin tour company that I can highly recommend. On one of them we spent a rest day in Ballyvaughn and a few of us kayaked the bay with the local outfitter who, I was informed by the locals, has returned to Brittany. As much as I love Lake Superior there just aren't that many seals to view or tidal races to play in. Its well into Galway Bay but the Atlantic swell is still pronounced and adds to the fun.

The Cliffs of Moher, a major tourist attraction and finalist in the Seven Wonders of the Natural World contest looked like some crazy paddling. I think both Chris Duff and our local Marquette guy, Sam Crowley, would have to say that paddling at the base of 900 foot sea cliffs was a spectacular experience. We watched the big Atlantic swells from the top and when the waves and wind combined to throw salt spray 1,000 feet in the air and spot my camera lens, we figured it might be a bit more than we were interested in that particular day. There is a new company in Doolin, home of traditional Irish music on the west coast, called North Clare Sea Kayak Touring Co, which does local lakes, rivers, Ballyvaughn area, and Liscannor Bay on the Atlantic. We will need to check them out next trip over.

On this land based trip we decided to hike to the top of Croagh Patrick, the mountain where St Patrick allegedly drove the snakes out of Ireland. This could have been a religious pilgrimage had we climbed a couple months earlier. Three stations involving several Our Fathers and Hail Mary's, and for some a barefoot climb as an act of penance, are part of the experience for the devout but since we were there on an off month (and my feet hurt) we decided to just climb the thing with our boots on. Unfortunately we did not make it. 50mph wind gusts with an intermittent rain made for a challenging day. The summit was in the clouds and when a couple experienced hikers who had climbed 'The Reek' many times told us that it was too windy and too foggy to summit, making the path back down difficult to find we listened. Plus I had seen a sign at the Murrisk village pub we parked next to with their motto: "The pint you seek when you climb The Reek". On our way back down we had a fabulous view of Clew Bay and its hundreds of islands and remarked that the kayaking would appear to be superb in that bay. Its the home of Grace O'Malley, the Pirate Queen, the woman who ruled western Ireland in the 16th century and faced down Queen Elizabeth I. We did some checking and found that there is a mobile sea kayaking company that shuttles paddlers out of Westport at the head of Clew Bay called Saoirse Na Mara Sea Kayaking. Once again, another thing to check out on a return visit.

We had a wonderful land and pub based trip and saw some amazing sights, met some interesting people, listened to some fine traditional music, and sipped some sublime pints of Guinness. Don't tell anyone but the VoiceOfReason would appear to have developed into a connoisseur of 'the Devil's Buttermilk', remarking on the subtleties that one finds from pub to pub in the Guinness. We did hear the siren's song of the long skinny boats however and next time we are in the west of Ireland we plan to listen to that song and get out on the water.

Another 'progressive' Minnesota beer law

Since I am in Ireland this week, combining business with pleasure, and the fellow I paddled with on Galway Bay in Ballyvaughn is back in Brittany with his kayak touring business shut down for the season, I guess I might as well write about beer. The contraption at the top of the post is called Arthurs Table, a double tap unit that beer lovers can sit around and draw their own beers. The unit is metered and set up to pay by the pint. The one above is in Doolin, Co Clare but there was one in Minneapolis at The Local and I made many a black and tan from it at an industry reception that my company held last year. I won't be making any this year however, because the City of Minneapolis shut it down.

When I got the note about this torpedo that the city fired at our little event in November, I immediately got in touch with the city councilman for our ward. Kevin Reich got back to me immediately and said that although the city inspectors indeed shut the tap unit down, it was at the behest of the state and their liquor laws. It was explained that since the bartenders did not control the unit there was a great danger of serving those who had been overserved as well as minors. That is a lame argument at the very best. Bars can't let minors in unless they are with their parents. There are bartenders and waitressed all over the place that can check on drunks and ask them to leave. Plus, I don't know about anyone else but if I'm paying for the beers I'm not going to pull a pint for anyone I don't know or isn't part of my group. It would be the same for a group sitting around the table. What's the likelihood of a drunk stranger or 16 year old sidling up and getting you to pour them a beer? Pretty damn poor in my opinion.

No alcohol on Sunday, breweries that couldn't sell their own pints on premise, the marvel of '3.2 beer', no beer sales at the grocery store, etc., etc. The list goes on. When it comes to getting a beer Minnesota is indeed The State Where Nothing is Allowed. When I get back to good old Minnesota I will continue to harass my state legislators on the issue (among a few others) but for now its frothy, rich, lovely pints of Guinness. In short, less posting more Guinness consumption. until Sunday anyway.