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Our Last Summer Vacation?

In 1978, my girlfriend Katie L’Heureux and I had been dating on and off for about four years. I was finishing my first year of medical school and she had just gotten a job teaching phy-ed at Janesville Parker that would start in September. As the summer approached for what was billed as our “last summer school vacation ever,” we wanted to get out of Madison and go on an adventure together. Or at least I did.

For years, I had heard about Isle Royale, located in the middle of Lake Superior. As the least-visited national park in the continental U.S., the island is only reachable by ferry, private boat or seaplane from mainland Michigan and Minnesota (link to more info about Isle Royale).
 
Most people recommend taking a seaplane to the island and staying in the historic Rock Harbor Lodge, with comfortable rooms offering lake views, private baths, and electricity. But we were too cheap to do that, so we instead decided to take a ferry to the island and backpack from one end to the other.

The Planning

We spent weeks putting our plan together. We decided to drive our 1965 Volkswagen bus to the north shore of Minnesota and take the Wenonah ferry from Grand Portage to the Windigo dock on the west end of Isle Royale. I figured that with only a three-hour trip on a 65-foot steel ferry, there was little chance of getting seasick.

Once on the island, we planned to hike the 45-mile Greenstone Ridge Trail, a classic hike on a trail that runs along the spine of the island from Windigo on the west end of the island to Rock Harbor on the east end (and shown in red on the map below).

Most of the sources that we had read recommended taking 5-7 days for the hike. We opted for 7 days, figuring that it would be easy to walk an average of 8-10 miles each day, allowing a day or two for inclement weather.

And to finish the trip, we planned to take a seaplane from the dock at Rock Harbor back to the west end of the island—a short 20-minute flight—where we would hop on the ferry for a quick trip back to Grand Portage. With a plan like this, what could go awry?

With reservations in hand, we carefully packed for the trip as we would be carrying all our gear and supplies on our backs, including a tent, sleeping pads and bags, a stove and cook set, food, and water. We meticulously picked our meals for each day, with separate zip-lock bags for breakfast (instant oatmeal), lunch (PB&J sandwiches), and dinner (mac and cheese or Rice-A-Roni). In retrospect, we should have packed more snacks. A lot more snacks.

Hiking the Greenstone Ridge Trail

We left Grand Portage, MN on the Wenonah ferry at 9:30 AM as planned, and the three-hour trip passed quickly on the calm cold waters of Lake Superior. We arrived at the Windigo dock around noon and headed out on the trail.

The Greenstone Ridge Trail rose quickly as we headed east from Windigo Bay on a beautiful sunny but cool day. The hike was slow-going as the trail surface was rocky and our packs were fully-loaded and very heavy. We quickly realized that the rating of “challenging” for this hike was well deserved.

The trail was as beautiful as it was challenging. Views from the top of the ridge were spectacular, giving a 360-degree panorama of the entire island. The forested sections were quiet and cool, often crossing streams or lakes created by busy beavers. And the temperatures would drop by 20 degrees or more each time the trail went close to the Big Lake.

Moose Sightings

We had heard that there were moose on the island, but we were surprised to see them so often along the trail. One day as we neared the high point of the trail, a large bull moose was standing in the middle of the trail eating a lunch of leaves from a small tree. We were very close but downwind and the moose didn’t see or hear us, so I was able to snap a picture before we made a wide detour around him.

We set up our tent near an inland lake and fell asleep in no time. The next morning, Katie asked me if I had heard the wolves howling during the night. I said that I had not, and that I doubted that she had. It’s a debate that continues to this day.

As we set out that day hiking a narrow trail through a dense forest, we were suddenly confronted by a large female moose trotting directly toward us on the trail! We froze, not sure what to do. As the moose got closer it suddenly saw us and took a detour just off the trail – followed closely by her two moose calves!

We arrived at our campsites along the trail in the mid- to late afternoons each day to set up camp. Most of the campsites were simple, but one was a shelter on the north side of the island, with mosquito screens and bunks! We felt like we were staying at the Isle Royale Hilton! Early the next morning the moose and her two calves paid us a visit, munching on plants only a few feet from our shelter.

Of course, there were challenges with backpacking. At that time, the consensus was that the best hiking boot was a stiff-sole high top leather hiking boot. They were more like ski boots than the comfortable trekking boots of today. The problem was that these boots sat unused in our closets all year long, only to be used when backpacking. And as a result, it was only a matter of hours in the boots before blisters would appear!

Those Cursed Black Flies

About halfway across the island the trail passed by a small inland lake. We heard the eerie call of loons and saw newly hatched chicks riding on the backs of their parents. But we also ran into the worst thing on the island—black flies. There must have been a hatch, and they buzzed incessantly around our heads. Rather than having a sting like a mosquito, the black flies use saw-like mouthparts to tear the skin, their saliva containing a mix of anticoagulants and anesthetics causing a localized immune response. And this is when Katie discovered that she had a black fly allergy, causing her eyes to almost swell shut.

Although it was warm and sunny during the days, as evening approached the temperatures would drop precipitously. Fortunately, we brought plenty of warm clothes, and soaking up the heat from our nightly campfires.

Our Short Flight from Rock Harbor to Windigo

We awoke early the next morning to a rainy and very windy day. We ate our last bits of food, packed up our wet gear, and went to the dock to meet the seaplane. Just as we arrived, we heard an airplane in the distance. Suddenly it dropped out of the sky and landed on the water down the bay. It came straight toward the dock at a high rate of speed, and I wondered if I was supposed to somehow help it dock. But just then the pilot opened his door, jumped out of the plane and ran down onto one of the pontoons. We watched in amazement as the plane slid perfectly alongside the dock. He said, “Welcome aboard!”

The flight along the island was amazing. Given the poor visibility, the pilot stayed close to the shore, and we could retrace our week-long backpack trip in the 20 minutes that it took us to fly the entire length of the island.

Then suddenly the plane lifted over the trees, and we could see a narrow strip of water in front of us. He descended into Windigo Bay quickly, softly landed on the water, and pulled up to the dock with the same skill he had done when he picked us up.

Anyone Want Some of My Extra Food?
As we climbed out of the plane onto the pontoons and then the pier, a group of hikers gathered around us to ask about our flight. We struck up a conversation with a woman who was standing on the dock preparing for the trip back to Grand Portage. She said that she had arrived the day before and started to hike across the island but decided to pull the plug due to the challenging trail and black flies. Maybe it was luck, or maybe she could see the hunger in our faces, but she opened her backpack and asked us if we wanted any of her uneaten food!

We gorged ourselves on dried fruit and nuts acting as if we hadn’t eaten in days! If the captain had not called us to start boarding, we might have eaten her entire seven-day supply.

The Boat Trip That We Had Feared

We boarded the Wenonah and went to the front of the boat for a good view. Although the bay was calm, the captain warned us that the waves would get big once we left the harbor. We figured that the Wenonah was such a large boat that it could handle even the biggest waves.

As we pulled out of the harbor, the boat started to rock up and down, and back and forth. It was fun for a few minutes, and then I started to get that warm, tingling feeling just before you throw up. As I tried to fight off the nausea, I saw others running to the ship’s railing to vomit.

Then I remembered—I had just stuffed myself with dried fruit and nuts. Before I could think about how bad it was going to be, I raced to the boat’s railing and spewed undigested nuts and dried fruit into the pristine waters of Lake Superior.

Over the next two hours, nearly everyone on the boat threw up. And not just once. I spiraled into a cycle of vomiting, followed by a few minutes of relief, then the nausea, and vomiting again. Over, and over, and over. I tried different positions on the boat, including going fore and aft, and down below into the bathroom with the lights turned off. The smell of vomit was everywhere, and nothing helped. I wondered if the captain kept a supply of cyanide to help end the misery….

But there was one person on the boat who did not get sick. Throughout the entire three-hour cruise, Katie sat on the bench in front of the boat keeping her eyes fixed on the horizon. Somehow the rocking and rolling of the boat and the smell of vomit had no effect on her.

After a few hours and what seemed like an eternity, the boat came into the harbor at Grand Portage and the waves diminished. Slowly the boat stopped rocking and rolling and leveled out as the water became glass calm. Thoroughly exhausted, I slowly raised my head out of my hands and looked toward the front of the boat—just as Katie ran to the railing and threw up!

Rocking in the Van All Night Long!

We packed up and started the drive home in our bus, but it was late in the day so we decided to pull off the road and sleep for the night. We closed the curtains and laid back, thoroughly exhausted. Just then we felt the van start to rock back and forth. Was someone outside playing a prank on us? We looked outside but didn’t see anyone so we laid back again. And the rocking returned.

We learned later that we were suffering from Mal de Débarquement (French for “disembarkation sickness”) or docking illusion. It happened because our brains adapted to the constant motion of the waves by recalibrating our balance system, and it would take time to readjust to the stability of solid ground.

Postscript
During a visit to the beach in Marquette in August 2026, a “friend” convinced us to recreate our “selfie” from 1978. However, we failed to convince Kate to use bandanas this time. ;0

Kate and I agreed that it would be fun to go back to Isle Royale—perhaps on the 50th anniversary of our first visit. And this time we’ll skip the ferry and instead fly to the island, stay at Rock Harbor, and take short out-and-back day trips.

More photos from the trip are here