TR: Solo Backpacking Trip to Huginnin Cove – late August, 2023

[backwoods doc]

Day 1: The lake was calm and the sky was cloudy for the trip from Grand Portage to Windigo on the Voyageur II. Saw a pair of otters in Washington Harbor when we were a few hundred yards from the dock. A light drizzle started about the time we reached Windigo, and kept up for the next few hours (what the Irish might call a “soft day”). Saw the first moose of the trip on the trail to Washington Creek campground. She came up out of the brush near the canoe rental dock, stopped in the trail about 30 yards away, and stared at me. She was sporting a white collar. After a minute or so, she grunted softly, a calf came up from the brush and followed her across the trail to parts unknown.

I opted to take the shorter West Huginnin Cove trail. The woods were pleasant, with a fair amount of ascending and descending, but nothing particularly steep. I stopped several times to rest, including a longer break for lunch. As a reasonably fit (though certainly not athletic) older guy, I figured I could make the trip to Huginnin Cove with my 34-pound pack in about 3 hours. Ended up taking 4 and a half.

Had my choice of campsites and went for #2. Very nice. In short order I was settled on the rocky beach in a backpacking chair, book in hand, looking around a serene cove, with the Canadian coast in the distance. Pretty much what I’d dreamed about for most of the previous year.

A cracking branch announced the arrival of a cow moose as she made her way down to the water on the west side of the cove. She sloshed through the water for several minutes before disappearing back up into the woods. A pair of loons appeared at the mouth of the cove, but were less vocal than I hoped.

Next a group of eight mergansers slowly swam into the cove from the northeast, and thoroughly entertained me for the next half hour with their group fishing behavior. They would split up, heads submerged, searching for fish (or schools of fish?). Once spotted, they somehow communicated to the rest of the group, which would swim frantically to the area from all directions. Within 10 seconds or so, at least one merganser would usually surface with a 3 to 4-inch silver fish in its mouth. Then the hunt would resume again, back and forth across the cove, with frantic fits of swimming erupting every several minutes.

I was happy to lay my achy body down at about dusk, and happier still that I had recently traded in my old Therm-a-Rest 1-inch pad for a luxurious, thick new inflatable mattress. Worth every penny.

Day 2: Awoke to another soft day. Drizzle passed by 10 o’clock. Savored the shoreline portion of the East Huginnin Cove trail, walking it as an out-and-back short hike before lunch. It’s as beautiful as reported.

Took up my appointed position on the beach all afternoon and evening. Was able to look up from my book long enough to see 3 otters swimming near the mouth of the cove, and a bald eagle soaring above. A few day-hikers appeared on the beach through the afternoon, always silently and maintaining a respectable distance. Two couples arrived by late afternoon and inhabited sites #1 and #3. There were polite waves of greeting, but no words were shared. Pretty much ideal.

Day 3: Awoken at 2:15 AM by the loud crack of a tree branch very near my tent, following by some very moosey harrumphing, pulling up of plants, and munching. No idea if this was a cow or bull (no pronouns were exchanged), nor if more than one beast was present. Just glad that none of my tent’s guy lines were stumbled over by cloven hooves.

Loons called in the dawn. Another (the same?) bald eagle in easy flight over the cove, downy woodpecker in camp.

On the way back to Washington Creek by 10 AM. Increasingly grateful to the NPS for their strategic placement of downed logs along the trail – great spots for contemplative breaks. Heard the telltale jackhammering of a pileated woodpecker, but no visual confirmation.

About a mile from the Washington Creek campground, I encountered a white-collared cow moose in the trail, about 40 yards ahead. Since this part of the trail runs along a ridge parallel to Washington Creek, this could have easily been the same animal I saw in Windigo on Day 1. Sure enough, she was accompanied by a calf that was slowly making its way down a bluff just north of the trail. The next 25 minutes were choreographed as follows: wait for calf to descend and wander down the trail with mom, wait a few more minutes, head slowly down the trail, stop and retreat 15 yards when mom reappears in trail and begins walking resolutely toward me, wait some more, see mom and calf wander off to the north, cautiously head down trail.

Arrived at WC campground to discover that all shelters and tents sites were filled to overflowing, owing to the fact that there had been no outgoing flights for two days due to fog. By the time I arrived at shelter #1, it was rumored that there was still some space in the group sites, but the thought of heading all the way back wasn’t too appealing. The guys at shelter #1 were kind enough to let a weary soul pitch his tent outside (and stash my pack inside).

Bedded down by dark, and within a few minutes was glad that I had brought my boots into the tent. A smallish animal with a very active nose came under my tent fly and was thoroughly sniffing all along the mesh door, about a foot away from me. I had heard plenty of stories about foxes making off with socks and boots. Not this time.

Day 4: Moose splashing in the creek in the wee hours of the morning, later identified by the woman in the next campsite as a cow with a white collar and her calf (she got up to look at them, I did not.)

Leisurely packed up, had breakfast and headed into Windigo. The new camp store deck was full of people trying to keep a good attitude as they faced a third day of fog and still no flights.

A 5-minute shower never felt so nice.

The only thing that had changed in the visitor’s center were the youthful faces beneath the ranger hats.

The sun came out right as the Voyageur II came into view, and a bald eagle circled high above the harbor.

[jerry]

Love your detailed report. Washington Creek was packed when I arrived in June. Lots of folks at Rock Harbor also. Thanks!

[torpified]

fantastic! Even without the white-collared mother and calf (whom the NPS evidently detailed to shadow you), a trip rich in wildlife. I was curious about the cooperative merganser fishing effort: did they share the fish they caught, or was it every duck for itself?

[backwoods doc]

Who knew that that the folks on Mott Island were employing local residents to engage in covert surveillance of park visitors? Gives a whole new meaning to the term "Moosewatch".

I did not observe any sharing of fish between said ducks, but am not willing to conclude that cooperative hunting behavior that terminates in personal benefit is by definition individualistic. In fact, I'm guessing that mergansers-of-old that paused hunting to divvy up a wriggling fish -- with various degrees of success -- lost the natural selection lottery. But more research is needed...

[JerryB]

Thanks for the report, and sorry Washington Creek was so crowded. I am afraid that is the new normal. Hugginin is great. I did that in May and, like you, took the short trail in. I took the long trail back and i much preferred it.