Kayakers Circumnavigate Lake Superior

Notes from the Trail - October 16, 2006
By Dave Freeman

Weathering a storm a Waverly Beach.

People started giving us puzzled, often worried looks, long before we loaded our kayaks for the first time and headed east along Lake Superiorís rocky coastline on August 30th. Ever since then, people have continued to respond in the same way. "Youíre going to be out on Lake Superior in kayaks in the Fall? But it is so cold, and windy! I think you picked the wrong time of year," people say. Often they add some minimal words of encouragement like, Well, youíre young and strong. Or. ìIt has been a warm summer perhaps this nice weather will continue.î

Now, with a fresh blanket of snow covering our kayaks, and a gale that has lasted three days still raging, most peopleís predictions are starting to come true. In the past week we have only been able to travel for parts of three days, eking out a mere 83 miles. On our longest day, we paddled 38 miles into a stiff headwind. We were on the water from 5:30 AM until 8:00 PM. Our sore arms begged for a rest. We knew that a large storm was moving in, and we wanted to cover as many miles as possible to find a good place to hole up before the snow began to fly. A friend had told us to look for a man named Joe who lived 2 miles east of the mouth of the Bad River along a beautiful stretch of white sand beach. He had helped other travelers through storms in the past, and we were told he would be happy to have us. With this in mind, we pushed on into the night. We slowly paddled along the beach, staring into the darkness, searching for any sign of human habitation.

Just as we were about to give up and paddle on to the mouth of the river, I heard what sounded like a screen door shutting. Then silence. We floated, trying to figure out what we had just heard. Finally, I decided to go ashore and have a look. As I crested the beach, I saw small cabin with a light burning in one window.

We would later learn that Melinda Pruess and her two children had been out in the car calling their dad who was away for a few days on business. We had floated by just in time to hear the door shut as they re-entered the house.

Melinda told us that Joe, their only neighbor for miles, lived in the house next door. He was not home, but she welcomed us to Waverly Beach, showed us where to pitch our tent, and invited us up for coffee and pancakes in the morning.

Tired, but pleased with our new temporary home we set up the tent, and crawled in to cook dinner as the first snowflakes began to fall.

At breakfast we learned that Melinda and her young family lived off the grid. The family uses about 40 gallons of water a week, which they haul from the artesian well outside their house. Wednesday is water day in the Pruess home, so I helped shuttle jugs of water from the well into the water barrel next to the sink. A small electric pump pulls the water from the barrel and causes the water to flow from the kitchen sink. The water pump and all of the other electrical appliances in the house run on the 12-volt batteries that Steve uses to power his cordless drill and other cordless power tools. Joe has a wind generator and solar panels that produce the power he needs, and when the Pruessí batteries run low, they recharge their batteries at Joeís place.

It was refreshing to find a young family living happily without using large amounts of power and water. Traveling by kayak has made us accustomed to hauling water, and living simply, but when we return to our daily lives we will be tempted to flip more light switches, take long showers, and consume more resources. I am realizing that reducing the amount of power and water that I use will play a major roll in insuring the health of the Great Lakes and our planet in the future. I hope we can all learn a little from the Pruess family about why more isnít always better.