Tag Archives: Apostle Islands

Lost Creek Falls Reflections: Weekly Photo Challenge

Lost Creek Falls is an isolated, primordial waterfall on the escarpment overlooking the south side of Lake Superior.  The reflections on the water and stones, together with the light patterns in the foliage draw my eye inward to the waterfall and remind me to give Thanksgiving for having experienced this magical place.

# Weekly Photo Challenge Magic

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Lost Creek Falls Reflections

This week  I revisited my photos of Lost Creek Falls, an isolated, primordial waterfall on the escarpment overlooking the south side of Lake Superior. I hardly ever look back and perhaps was seeking solace after the results of the national election a few weeks ago. The reflections on the water and stones, together with the light patterns in the foliage drew my eye inward to the waterfall and reminded me to give Thanksgiving for having experienced this magical place.

Sailing Lake Superior: Isle Royale

  At dawn on Saturday, August 22, 2015, we set sail from Cornucopia Wi, the marina where we keep San Francisco, traveling to Grand Marais, MN. We had originally planned to sail first to one of the outermost islands in the Apostles, spend the night and then head to either Grand Marais or Isle Royale.  On my urging, we chose instead to make the long trip to Grand Marais to avoid the heavy weather forecast for Sunday on the western side of Lake Superior.

I started the sail, actually the trip, in a funk, anxious about the possibility of thunderstorms ( the forecast called for “isolated” storms) and the potential for high winds with rough, rock and rolling waves. But nothing happened and we arrived in Grand Marais in the early evening that day.

Getting to Grand Marais a day early turned out to be the right move as Sunday brought three days of gale force winds, rain, cold and NOAA (National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration) warnings of waves dangerous for small watercraft.

Through it all, the boat remained cozy. But not quiet. One night, Monday I think, as we tried to sleep the wind screamed and howled over the boat, rattling the rigging and jerking us back and forth even though we were securely tied to the marina’s dock and within a breakwater. As I laid awake, all I thought about was having a good cup of coffee in the morning because it meant that we were through the night okay.

The lingering storm must have scared Grand Marais’ tourists home because the town became a remote, forlorn outpost under threatening skies.  Howard and I captured these photos as we remained weathered in at the dock.