Speakers Cabin Porcupine Mountains

If you want a minimal effort, maximum backwoods fun trip Speaker’s Cabin has you covered.

It’s just under a mile walk to your own private cabin on Lake Superior. You can’t really go wrong with any cabin in the Porkies, but Speakers Cabin, IMO, has the best view, the easiest walk-in, and privacy.

The last time I was here was 6 years ago. For the most part, it’s the same setup. There was a flood of Speaker’s Creek in 2016 which caused erosion along the creek edge. After this, the cabin was moved back 20 feet from the creek to avoid future floods. The great news, the zombie flies I mentioned before have abated significantly. 

This weekend we are here with 2 other friends putting us at the 4 person limit. Speakers is a nice size for 4. Space to cook, a woodstove for heat, a big table, and 4 bunks. Wood for the fire is gathered from around the cabin. Thankfully the last group left us a decent amount of dry wood and we returned the favor for the next group.

Although I've yet to use it, my favorite part is the fire ring overlooking Lake Superior. On a cool night, it would be epic to watch the stars or northern lights around the fire. In the summer, the creek and lake would be great for swimming.

The downside of Speakers is that it’s a bit cut off from the main trail system. It’s possible to hike anywhere in the park from the North Country Trail, the trail running by the cabin, but getting to the heart of the park is a long journey.

On the flip side, Speaker’s Cabin is the closest cabin to the Presque Isle side of the park. Personally, I highly recommend the hike from the cabin to the Presque Isle River and the waterfalls through the Hemlock forest. The trail from the cabin to the falls is lightly traveled through the moody forest. At approximately 5 miles round trip, it's a nice length to pack a picnic and lounge around the falls area.

Links:

• Speakers TH (Google Maps)

• Route to cabin (Gaia GPS)

• Day hike to Presque Isle River (Gaia GPS)

• Permit Pick-up (Google Maps)

• Backcountry Map (MI DNR)

• Porcupine Mts Website (MI DNR)

A Week in the Boundary Waters

I’ve only been back in the US for a few days, but I can’t pass up the chance to jump on my buddy Neal’s Boundary Waters Canoe Area permit. It’s been too long since I was in the midwest’s premier backcountry spot. 

The thing I love about the BWCA is the limitless combinations to weave together routes through the lakes. It’s this kind of freeform exploration that I’m drawn to. So in this spirit, we set off for a week in the backcountry with no defined plan. 

We set off on a perfect day. Deep blue skies with puffy white clouds lazily floating along. The paddle started with 4 portages in rapid succession. None of them were particularly tough, but loading and unloading that many times gets tiring. 

Our first big lake, Fourtown, is a classic BWCA lake. Rocky points, islands, and lots of campsites. We had our pick of the lot and found a sunny site by 2pm. Early enough to get the hammocks out. I like the speed of this trip already.

The next day we paddled to Gun Lake with a few fishing stops along the way. Another great site surrounded by water on 3 sides. 

We woke up to a misty, rainy day. We debated if we should stay put or move on. After a few extra cups of rainy day coffee, we decided to move. 😆

Turns out it was a good call. The spot we got on Thunder Lake was top-notch. So good we made it a double. Thunder Lake was very quiet. It’s at the end of the line so not many paddlers make their way up there. Both nights we had clear starry skies and heard elk bugling at night. 

After a day off from paddling, we were raring to go. Plus, the wind was picking up and we could feel a storm brewing. Best to get the miles in and find a camp. When we hit Boot Lake the wind was at a full gale. We could see the thunderheads looming in the distance. 

After an exhausting paddle, we got to Fourtown Lake. We grabbed a west-facing spot. Figured it was better to get a view of what was rolling in.

We had just enough time to get the tarp up before the rain started bucketing down. For the next 3+ hours, we rode out the multiple waves of thunderstorms that passed by. It was epic and terrifying. By the time everything blew over, it was well past dark. Finding a spot to pitch our tents that wasn’t a puddle was a challenge. 

The next day was much cooler with bright blue skies. It was our last full day. Since we hardly slept (and survived the thunderstorms!), we decided to stay firmly planted at camp and take full advantage of the day by making good use of our hammocks. 

Links:

• Our Route (Gaia GPS)

• BWCA Website

• Entry Point 23 (Google Maps)

Tararua Range Overnight Trip

A few weeks ago we snuck out to the Tararua Range for an overnight trip. I was quickly reminded when backpacking in NZ 1. Bridges are (mostly) a myth 2. The trails go two ways: Straight up or straight down and 3. Moss is everywhere from ground to treetop.

I credit New Zealand for hooking me on backpacking. I grew up backpacking adjacent. Camping, hiking, canoeing, and a few short one-night trips. That all changed when I lived here a decade ago. I quickly fell in love with getting further and further from the car.

We started at the Kiwi Ranch Rd Trailhead, only 45 minutes from downtown Wellington. The Tararua Ranges form a massive forest park with backcountry huts dotting the valleys and ridges. NZ’s backcountry hut program is impressive, featuring over 950 huts. The cost ranges from free to $15/night. 

Our destination was the Tutuwai Hut. We made our way up and over Puffer saddle, descended to Smith’s Creek, and then along the Tauherenikau River. The track was smooth in parts, washed out in others, but we made it to the hut before dark. With decently dry shoes too!

The next day we started with a river crossing and then 2,700 feet up to the summit of Omega. The trail, like many in New Zealand, is impossibly steep. In true kiwi style, there are no switchbacks either. Just gut it out to the top.

From here, it was a long downhill along the Marchant Ridge. At first, the track was densely covered by trees. Toward the end of the ridge, views opened up back towards Wellington. Although we hiked most of the day, we didn't get back to the car after dark. The climb and the trail condition reminded me to adjust my pace expectations when hiking in New Zealand.

Even though it was only a one-night trip, it felt so good to be back in my backpacking birthplace. And my calves ached for two days after.

If you go:

• Route (Gaia GPS)

• Kiwi Ranch Rd Trailhead (Google)

• Tutuwai Hut

• Tararua Range Info (DOC)

100km on the Heysen Trail

Desert backpacking is a new experience for me. Unless you count the brief stretch of the PNT that goes through dry cattle country, my backpacking experience has been in lush forests or alpine mountains with abundant streams. 

The Heysen Trail is a 1200km (750mi) trail that runs from the South Australian coast to the Ikara-Flinders Ranges National Park. Near the northern end is where we start our 100km section hike. And we get to join my brother in law who is thru-hiking approximately half the trail over the next month.

The scenery of the Flinders Ranges is more varied than the barren red Australian dirt I was expecting - mountains, pine forests, rocky ridgelines, and even water in a few glassy pools. It’s winter, which helps make the landscape lusher than in the brutal summer season. In fact, the Heysen Trail is only hikable in the winter because of the extreme summer heat.

Our hike is turning into a real family affair. My inlaws are camping at Wilpena Pound, our first camp spot. This means three things: A free car shuttle, a pre-set-up tent, and (most important) a hot meal waiting for us at the end of the day. This is good because the first day is 34km (21mi) of hiking. 

We start along a flat 4x4 road that stretches into infinity through the red dirt. Around lunch, we leave the plain and crest a ridge with views surrounding mountains. The rocks are some of the oldest on earth stretching back millions of years. The folds show just how much they’ve twisted and shifted over the eons.

Still no sign of Zac as we descend into a lightly forested valley. Around sunset, we arrive at camp. Zac has just beaten us there. There’s enough food here for a dozen people. Perfect. 😋

The next day we start with a walk across the Wilpena Pound. The pound is legendary for its steep sides and only 2 entry points. The circular geography makes navigation tricky. Tales of settlers (and hikers) who entered the pound and never came out are on all the signage. Exiting the pound gives us views over the southern ranges. The rest of the day’s walking is up and down over the haphazard terrain.

The next day we walk along a dry and scrabbly rocky river bed. It’s flat but slow going. We reach the Mayo Hut in the late afternoon. The old stone hut has been lovingly restored by the trail association and makes for a nice place to steep overnight. And no need to pitch the tent!

More riverbed walking. Ugh. But the payoff in the afternoon is worth it. Walking the ridge of Jarvis Hill is a stunning mix of scrambling, trail, and jaw-dropping views. It’s also the end of our walk. We take our time soaking in the red expanse stretching out miles into the distance.

It felt good to sling my pack over my shoulder for the first time since last fall in the Pecos Wilderness. The muscle memory of eat, sleep, hike repeat kicked in and got me fired up for a thru-hike again… someday.

Links:

• Route (Gaia GPS)

• Heysen Trail Assoiciation 

• Ikara-Flinder Ranges National Park

• Trailhead Brachina Gorge Rd (Google Maps)

• Trailhead Jarvis Hill Lookout (Google Maps)

6 Days in the Pecos Wilderness

It’s been a year since I’ve been backpacking. A whole year. 😢

With the pandemic and being extremely busy at work, backpacking in 2020 seemed like a lost cause. Then my friend, Eric, texted a fully worked-out route in the Pecos Wilderness . All I needed to do was show up. After a bit of juggling, I managed to get the time off. Away I went!

Our route was a touch over 36 miles. Lots of high elevation ridgewalking, views, and alpine lakes. Perfect! In total, our trip was 6 days with a rest day in the middle. The pace was great for the shorter and cooler days at the end of September. Plenty of time to rest and soak in the views. And for Eric’s 9-year-old canine Daisy to hike with us.

The night before we started we camped at Jack’s Creek Campground. An excellent jumping-off point .5 miles from the trailhead. It had been two years since I saw Eric, but pulling into the campground his old familiar Tarptent was easy to spot amongst all the RV setups.

The first day began with a climb and leveled once we were up on the ridge. The ridge was mostly through active grazing land at the start with our first views. Then it changed to an aspen forest before dropping into the Pecos River valley. Right before the descent, there was a spectacular cliff viewpoint. This would make a great dry camp, but we pushed on a little further.

On day 2, we continued our hike up the Pecos River. The hiking was mostly through the forest. Pecos Falls served as a scenic spot for lunch. As we climbed higher along the Valdez Trail, the weather turned to drizzle with thunderstorms in the distance. Around dinner, there was a quick break in the weather allowing us to set up camp and shovel down some food before the next round.

The next morning we woke up to a magical (and extremely cold) frost inside and outside of our tents. We decided to break camp as fast as possible and high tail it to the ridgeline for breakfast in the sun. The rest of the day was entirely along the ridgeline with phenomenal panoramic views in every direction. There was a mix of trail and cross country travel, but it was easy to navigate. We ended the day at Truchas Lake, which we had all to ourselves.

The clear alpine lake was a perfect spot for a rest day. We spend the morning basking in the sun around the lake, reading and watching the world go by. In the afternoon, we explored the upper lake and boulder field. Chirping pikas and marmots were busy preparing for the nearing winter. The weather was stunningly warm for late September.

Day 5, back on the trail. Another sunny day almost entirely of ridgewalking and 360-degree views. We found a stunning spot in the sun and out of the wind for a 2+ hour siesta. Dropping off the ridge, we camped at Pecos Baldy Lake with views of East Pecos Baldy.

On day 6, we did a morning summit of East Pecos Baldy, about 1,000ft above the lake. Then back to camp for lunch. It’s another stunning late September day. The aspens' full yellow foliage is on display. We get to the car in the late afternoon, sip a post-hike beer, recap the trip, and part ways.

Overall I'd highly recommend this route. I enjoyed going counterclockwise to warm up my legs through the forested section and get the spectacular ridgewalking in the second half of the trip. However, either direction works. Best to tailor your trip to time the ridge walking with the clearest weather window for the views. At 36.5 miles you certainly could do it faster if you don’t have a full week. Many thanks to Eric for planning and getting me back out there. And to Daisy who was the best hiker in the group!

If you go:

• Route Map (Gaia GPS)

• Jack’s Creek Trailhead (Google Maps)

• Pecos Wilderness (NFS site)

McKeever Cabin

I’ve been feeling a little stuck in Madison this winter. I’ve been doing a lot of cross country skiing since I (foolishly?) signed up for the 55km Birkie ski race, but I’ve been lacking in backcountry adventures.

Luckily, my uncle suggested we try the McKeever cabin in the UP. It’s only a 1.33 miles snowshoe back to the cabin but it’s a great cure for my backcountry craving. Wide open skies, freshly groomed trails, toasty fires and backcountry bloodies, it’s even better than I expected.

I wasn’t sure what to expect on the ski front, it says groomed on the website but you just never know. Turns out they were excellent! They are groomed approx. once a week. We were lucky enough to have that day fall on our first day there. Not a huge trail system but three nice loops kept me satisfied. The cabin is situated in the middle of them, which means a mid-ski stop for snacks and a bloody mary.

The cabin itself is small, has four bunks and a nice woodburning stove. It’s similar to the ones in the Porcupine Mountains on the other side of the peninsula. The stove is either on full blast or not on so it’s a bit a of a trick getting it just right. The best is there is an old hand water pump that works in the winter. A huge bonus. No melting snow for water. We met a ranger who stopped by to test the water, which they do every month, and she confirmed it was safe to drink unfiltered.

I also go to dust off the pulk I built for a Thanksgiving Hut trip a few years back. It was much easier to pull on the mostly level trail vs up the side of a mountain in Colorado. Shocking.

I credit my uncle for inspiring my love of the outdoors, especially backcountry pursuits. He taught me many skills but also to not to take it too seriously. And never, ever, skimp on food. For this trip we had bloodies, ribs and a smorgasbord of other delights. On past trips we’ve had backcountry surf & turf and tacos. It’s always great to get out there with him (and my cousin!). He’s 68 and still crushing it. Champion.

If you go:

• McKeever Cabin winter TH

• Maps: Caltopo / Gaia

• McKeever Cabin FS info

• McKeever Ski Trail Map

The End – Wild, Wet, Windswept Olympic Coast

A version of this post appears on The Trek, which you can read here

The coastal section through the Olympic National Park starts, as many PNT sections do, with a 22-mile walk through forest roads. We walk it as fast as possible, knowing it’ll be our last day of roadwalking. Whoo hoo! Near the end of the day the road joins the Ho River. After a little while we hear a faint crashing noise. Waves from the ocean? A mile or so later we pop out from the forest and get our first wide view of the Pacific Ocean. We made it!

After 70 days walking up and down mountains the coast section feels like a totally different trip. The expansive ocean stays to our left, tide pools and beach line the path forward. Our hiking is dictated by the pull of the tides. We also are tapering our mileage, taking four days to walk the last 38 miles.

Another difference: a group of seven thru-hikers all started out of Forks on the same day with the same idea. We end up meeting most days to wait out the midday high tide and camp around a beach bonfire at night. Since Glacier National Park we’ve only camped with other thru-hikers a handful of times. For the most part I’ve enjoyed the solitude but having other hikers around at the end is exciting and makes us realize how epic of a journey this has been. It’s hard to know for sure but likely 50 people or less will complete the PNT this season. It’s a rare treat to share our experiences with other PNT class of 2019ers.

The first two days end up being gorgeous weather, warm with clear skies and calm seas. There are fun (and slightly sketchy) overland ropes to pull ourselves up and over rocky headlands. We even found whale bones!

On the third day we wake to an overcast brooding sky. Rain is definitely on the way. We manage to make it over slippery rocks and across a large section of beach by 10 a.m., just before the rain starts. We set up our tent and build a fire to stay dry as the rain keeps coming. And coming. The other PNTers also stop to wait out the rain. It ends up raining straight from 10:30 a.m. to 7 p.m., and everyone decides to camp. We’re less than ten miles to the end and have had our shortest day of hiking! It’s hard not to go stir crazy in the tent.

The next day, our last day, we wake up early. The rain is holding off so we move out of camp ASAP. An hour later we see other hikers coming up behind us. It’s a group of five other thru-hikers who have caught up to us! There will be 12 of us finishing today; it’s possible that’s a PNT record.

The gray skies remain but the rain holds off until just as we are finishing at Cape Alava, the western-most point of the Lower 48. We did it! We are exhausted! We are excited! We are thru-hikers! The end of the trail is fitting for the PNT. No sign, no blaze. The beach continues northward. Day hikers and backpackers gives us quizzed, confused looks as we celebrate the end of a 1,200-mile, 74-day journey.

Three Times the PNT Tries (and Fails) to Kill Us

A version of this post appears on The Trek, which you can read here

After nine amazing days getting through the Pasayten Wilderness, the section through the Cascade Mountains starts with equal promise: A trail zero on the sunny, sandy shores of Ross Lake, a walk through giant old growth cedars, and good trail over a couple of great passes. Yep, things are looking great.

But then in the middle of the night at Hannegan Pass a sickness begins. Nasty stomach bug sort of sickness. Not good. The next morning Kate isn’t feeling any better. Luckily we are close to the trailhead and some other campers give us a ride out to Glacier, WA. After 24 hours of rest we are back on the trail. We hike down the Lake Ann and Swift Creek trail and camp near hot springs. Amazing.

Then the next day we slam out a big day around a misty, beautiful Baker Lake and get some great views of Mount Baker. We camp on an old roadbed just miles from Concrete, WA, and plan on an easy walk to town, a motel bed and food and beers and… or would we?

The next morning, in the dim dawn light, I go to retrieve our URSAKs from a nearby tree. They’re up a steep embankment near the road edge. Heading back down the embankment (thinking of coffee) I take one step, two steps, thr- now tumbling downhill I land on my chest near the road edge. Guess that walk to town is going to be a little less fun with these bruised ribs 🙁

But that’s cool. I can deal. We’ll be in a hotel room tonight so no worries. I get my pizza, I get my beer, I get a “loggerdog” (see below) and get ready to sleep. Will be good to go tomorrow.

Around 9 p.m. I think, “My stomach feels kinda funny.” I can’t possibly have the crippling stomach bug Kate did a few days ago. It’s not like we’re in constant contact sharing water bottles, spoons, eating containers or anything.

9:17 p.m. I have the same stomach bug Kate had. Better write off tomorrow as a zero and get ready to watch crappy movies on TV cause as much as I want to get back on the trail that’s not really happening.

So the six days we wanted to take to Concrete have turned to eight. But fear not, we are back on the trail and (mostly) back to health. Nice try PNT, but you can’t hold us down!

The Mighty, Magnificent and Remote Pasayten Wilderness

A version of this post appears on The Trek, which you can read here

A crack of thunder and a bolt of lightning is how we started our section in the Pasayten Wilderness. Minutes after arriving at the Cold Springs campground the sky opened up and hail started dropping at a fevered pace. Five of us thru-hikers huddled under the shelter of the campground’s privy, each muttering a silent prayer that our tents would hold up to the onslaught.

To get to Cold Springs we had a daunting, treeless 25 miles of paved road to walk. Luckily, it was cloudy for most of those miles. But almost as if on cue the sun came out for our 5,000-foot ascent on the barren Chopka Grade Road. So a few hours later when the temps dropped 20 degrees and hail started falling I wasn’t even mad. In fact it felt awesome; we had finally entered the Pasayten.

The next day the temps hovered in the low 50s. A few miles from camp the views started to open and the vastness of the wilderness in front of us became clear. I particularly enjoyed the slow build of the geography in this section. At first the mountains are smaller and tree lined. By the end they are glacier capped giants.

Unfortunately, a large section of this wilderness has been burned by wildfires in the last few years, but luckily the PNT trail crews have been hard at work clearing many of those blowdowns.

That’s not to say the trail is clear by any means (this is the PNT). One section of trail had an epic “jungle gym” of blowdowns. I had quite a bit of fun crawling, hurtling, and falling over and under them. Honestly, this kind of stuff is why I love this trail. River crossings, route finding, and cross-country traversing are my favorite things about backcountry travel.

The worst blowdown section came a few miles before the PNT briefly overlaps with the PCT. We joked as we hopped over fallen trees and tried to find whatever was left of the trail that the PCT would have the best tread, the flattest campsites and James Beard nominated chefs as trail angels. Turns out the first two are true (sadly the chefs must only donate their time on the weekends).

It was a bit of a culture shock to be on such a busy trail. There were other hikers in our camp! Outrageous. In the 45 days we’ve been on the PNT we’ve met 19 other thru-hikers. In the half day we were on the PCT we met 32 PCTers. The giddy excitement in their eyes being only a few miles from the Canadian border both pumped us up and made us realize we still have a long way to go in our journey.

We said goodbye to the PCT and resumed our trek jumping blowdowns, searching for trail, and taking in jaw-dropping views all by ourselves.

The Trail Turns Hot, Then it Turns Hotter

A version of this post appears on The Trek, which you can read here

“The heat in the summer is 110. Too hot for the devil, too hot for men.” -Johnny Cash

According to locals yesterday the temp did reach 110 in Oroville. When we walked into town today it cooled a bit, hovering around 100. Joy.

Eleven days and seemingly a lifetime ago we started out of Northport, WA, in section four of the Pacific Northwest Trail. Already at that point we knew heat would be the name of the game for the next two weeks. Early starts and siestas were in, the damp cold rain of the first three weeks of our hike were out.

On top of the heat out of Northport we faced a daunting 40ish miles of road walking to start the section. Most of these are forest roads. Lightly traveled and fairly shaded.

When we got to the start of the trail we were greeted with a nice stretch of blowdowns (yay) and a burned area.

It was about this time that the road walking and the heat were starting to play tricks on our minds when we read a passage from Tim Youngblueth’s PNT guidebook that deviously mentioned that at this point “one could walk from here into Republic in about 15 miles. But our trail continues southward.” Of course at this point I couldn’t help but think of the glories of town: AC, sheets, pizza, cold beers. How many thru-hikers have followed the Sirens’ call down that road? A few miles and much climbing later I envisioned all the thru-hikers enjoying said comforts. Curse you, Tim! Then I saw some bootprints and realized it’s just the heat (probably).

Oh, and water? Yeah, this is how we get it. Gone are the running streams; now we get to share water out of cattle troughs and (sometimes) flowing springs.

However, as Tim foreshadowed, soon after the trail did get better. Wildflowers, ridge walking, and views.

Then a canyon to walk as we rounded out the south side of the loop around Republic.

Republic itself is a real treat of a town. Everything within a few blocks, great pizza, great brewery, and the local trail angel is the postmaster (ie, you can get packages on the weekend if you ask nice).

After Republic we entered section five and the trees became more sparse and the temps got even hotter. We’re talking near 100.

An epic climb up Bonaparte Mountain led us to the only manned lookout tower on the PNT.

Shortly afterward we got to the Havillah church that welcomes hikers. We got to use the kitchen for cooking and there was a fridge stocked with food for us. Most importantly, it offered shade from the relentless sun.

The last morning as we dropped down in elevation to get to Oroville the sun beat down and the air was full of smoke from a fire in Canada. But we were greeted by the friendliest hotel on the PNT!

One more long, hot road walk to go and then the cooler temps and views of the Pasayten Wilderness await.