lake superior

The Greatest Lake

Lichen and moss of countless shades of green cling for life on misshaped boulders littering the forest floor. Dampness, the smell of earth, and decomposition fill my nostrils. I sense the open vastness of blue beyond the tree line but had yet to glimpse its true grandeur. Walking carefully now and hearing a low rumble of waves crashing far below, I expect a severe drop-off where the trees end. Closer now, I see the water’s surface stretching to the horizon with no land in sight.

As a child, I can remember the Lake’s mood changing throughout the day, sometimes wearing a shimmering silver coat, sometimes slate gray or a dark blue-green when a steady wind blew breakers against its rugged shores. Today’s surface comprises the most pleasing shade of blue, and the massive body of water is seemingly content within its confines.

Clearing the last of the trees confirmed my suspicion as the land abruptly ended, and sheer-walled cliffs dropped precariously a 100 feet or more to Superiors surface. The shoreline’s spectacular view to the North and South only revealing a tiny portion of the Great Lake’s magnificence.

Peering over the edge, I could see boulders deceptive in both size and depth scattered across its floor just beyond where the cliffs started their ascent —the clarity of the water rivaling the purest of fresh-water springs of Northern Florida.

The Lake is always conveying a sense of uncontrollable power whenever I get into proximity—the rocky shoreline and cliffs standing guard battle against gigantic waves during November gales.

The North Shore of Lake Superior from Duluth to Grand Portage is a window into an earlier, more primitive time, and Superior remains too massive and wild ever to be tamed by man.

I am sitting still on my perch at the top of the cliff, watching and listening to the most glorious of the Great Lakes. I am as always taken aback by its immense beauty, respectful of its power, and grateful for its ability to connect me to its ancient past.

My Midwest Birthday Adventure

It is hard to imagine a better birthday than the one I experienced this year as I turned 62. I have amazing memories of growing up in Minnesota, and most of the scenes I cherish, center around the beauty and power of mother nature.

I can easily trace my appreciation of nature to my dad; he never missed an opportunity while hiking or fishing to point things out that he observed. And even if he couldn’t always explain the science, I sensed his joy of being in the moment with whatever phenomenon was taking place around him.

Today, I am married to my best friend, who understands me because of life events I have shared with her from my past.

This year, my wife, Pam, surprised me with a planned week-long trip into my past. She wanted to see the places I talk about, where I experienced inspiration, awe, and beauty in my youth. Her thoughtfulness in planning the trip touched my heart and reminded me about the power of encouragement within relationships.

Flying into Duluth, I was delighted to see plenty of snow-cover. And after picking up our rental, and driving north up the shore toward Grand Marais, the snow continued to gain depth. It occurred to me then that I had never visited the North Shore in the winter, and the snow, birch and evergreens set against the shimmering blue waters provided striking scenery along highway 61.

 Lake Superior has always been magical to me, its size, mystery, and ruggedness beyond my ability to describe adequately with words. Pam, never having visited any of the Great Lakes, was astonished by Superiors’ size and ever-changing moods. The second night in Grand Marais, I woke early to large snowflakes filling the air with the picturesque harbor and Coast Guard station as the backdrop.   

After two days on the shore, we drove west to Detroit Lakes and explored the area of my childhood vacations. Each summer, our family rented a small cabin for two weeks of fishing and outdoor fun.

From Detroit Lakes, we made our way down to the Twin Cities of Minneapolis, St. Paul, where I grew up. There, we stayed in an Airbnb just a few blocks from my family home near Lake Harriet. On March 5, my actual birthday, we met up with some of my brothers and sisters who still live in the area for a celebration dinner.

The trip was a whirlwind tour where we drove over 1000 miles crisscrossing the state. Pam, a perfect traveling companion, enthusiastically listened to my stories of the places we visited, arranged a look inside my childhood home, toured old mansions, organized my birthday dinner, and provided expert navigation throughout our travels.

I feel fortunate to have made the trip before the Pandemic took hold. I love the people of the Midwest, their eternal optimism that spring might come early, or that the past winter wasn’t that bad. And as Pam said on several occasions during our adventure, “these are your people.”