Feeling Superior

There’s something about Lake Superior that gets to me.   Especially the North Shore.

I don’t know what it is.  Superior doesn’t have any spectacular snow-capped peaks like the Rockies.  There aren’t any dramatic icefields or fjords like you find in Alaska.

Superior is just a big body of water, surrounded by lots of forest and rock.  Occasionally punctuated by a few towns trying to eke out a living out of the Canadian Shield.

Still, there’s something about the Lake that gets to me.

Part of it is the the sheer SIZE.  It’s not so much as a lake, but an inland sea, cutting a big chuck of the continent in two.  It takes a good 7-8 hours to drive from Sault. Ste. Marie to Thunder Bay (if you push it).

Imagine explaining this to someone from Australia:  a freshwater lake so big that it takes a good part of a DAY to drive past.

And the water is cold.  REALLY cold.    It could be late May, stinking hot and 80 degrees.  But as you drive around the Lake, you’ll get pockets of fog and suddenly feel the air cool like it came out of a giant refrigerator.

That’s Superior…reminding you of her presence.

(As for swimming…don’t even GO there!)

Another thing I like is the remoteness.   There are no huge cities and urban sprawl out here, like on the lower Great Lakes.  Even today, in the 21st century, Superiour still has huge tracts of roadless shoreline that you can’t get to except by boat.  If you can arrange to be dropped off, you can hike there for miles, and get a sense of how things looked like before Europeans arrived.

As for roads, the Trans-Canada Highway is still mostly single-lane.   In fact,  Lake Superior was one of the most difficult places to build the highway.  The connection between Wawa and Sault Ste. Marie didn’t get completed until 1960.

Just think, men were already starting to venture into space, but there were still sections in Northern Ontario that weren’t’ connected by road yet.

Superior is the unofficial dividing line between the crowded South and the still relatively unspoiled North.   When people talk about “North of Superior”, there’s a bit of reverence in their voice.

“North of Superior” evokes images of still-existing patches of virgin forest, loons swimming in pristine lakes and pinkish granite rock.  Not to mention fishing lodges only accessible by bush plane where you’re guaranteed to catch some whoppers.

Even the forests change as you around the lake.  The friendly maple trees and majestic white pine start to disappear, and give way to the haunting black spruce and scraggly birch trees of the Boreal Forest.    Reminding you that you’re a long way from home…and don’t get LOST in these woods, as the nearest help might be miles away.

Sometimes, Superior can be a darling.  At the right time of year, she’ll say “Come on in, the water’s fine“.

(And yes..in late summer, there ARE a few places where you can swim without hypothermia).

Some of the most refreshing swims you’ve ever had, that make you shiver, not with cold, but with sheer ecstasy as the blue-green water seeps into your armpits and between your toes.

And giardia be damned, sometimes you just want to stick your head under water and gulp in the cool, cool sweetness.

But on other days, Superior can be a bitch.   The sky will turn grey, the winds will pick up, and suddenly she’ll turn on you.

“Don’t MESS with me!“, she warns.

And you don’t.   Because she WILL mess with you, if you’re not careful.

Just ask the hundreds of boats that she’s shipwrecked.  Or unfortunate kayakers stranded on a remote island for three days because it was too rough to head back to shore.

But what I like best about Superior, is that it’s one of the few places on the planet where I can get my head right.

Whenever life gets to be too much,  I’ll make a special road trip, and sit on the shore.

I’ll stare at the infinity of the horizon, and feel the chest-thumping crashing and pounding of the waves.  And just take in the sheer POWER of it all.

And all the crap…the job, family issues, financial problems…it all melts away.

None of that means a damned thing out here.   Superior dosen’t care.   She’ll wash it away, and empty your mind.

It’s just you and the Lake.

And when you’re in this state of mind, if you listen carefully,  she’ll talk to you.

“Don’t worry, Friar.  It’s all right.   Everything’s going to be all right…”

And hearing that, alone, is worth the 10 hour drive.

At least for me, it is.

Explore posts in the same categories: The Outdoor Friar

Tags: Lake Superior, northern ontario, outdoors, Sault. Ste. Marie, Thunder Bay, wawa

You can comment below, or link to this permanent URL from your own site.