The Land of Gitchee Gumee

From The Song of Hiawatha

by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

By the shore of Gitchie Gumee,
By the shining Big-Sea-Water,
At the doorway of his wigwam,
In the pleasant Summer morning,
Hiawatha stood and waited.

Although Minnehaha falls is in Minneapolis, the Shining Waters of Lake Gitchee Gumee in Longfellow’s poem about Hiawatha is actually the land of the lake Gichigami, meaning "big water", the Ojibwa (pronounced o-jib-way) Indian name for Lake Superior – and that it is. It is the largest freshwater lake in the world by surface area, is the world's third-largest freshwater lake by volume and would cover both the continents of North and South America in 1 foot of water. The Shining Waters turn gray and tumultuous on occasion and consume huge vessels such as the Edmund Fitzgerald which is memorialized in “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald” song by Gordon Lightfoot. To Chris and Jay It is a body of water that borders some of the most beautiful country they have seen thus far in their journeys.

The North Shore of Minnesota begins at Duluth, a town which in its heyday of the early 1900s had the largest income per capita in the nation due to the rich harvesting of iron ore and lumber from the surrounding land and the shipping industry created to transport it across the continent. Beautifully restored Victorian homes sit along the shoreline outside of town. The shore road continues north passing clumps of Aspen and Birch trunks contrasting starkly white against the masses of lush evergreens, fern and purple lupine the sight of which takes your breath away. The higher, rain washed elevations to the west create dozens of rivers that end in gorgeous waterfalls visible from the roadside as their frothy liquid tumbles toward the sea. Small towns with populations in the dozens dot the coastline all the way to Canada. Shops with names like Mocha Moose Coffee and Gifts, The Pie Place, Chez Jude and Bear Track Outfitting Company abound. And you know you’re in the North Country when you pass a billboard advertising Mukluks.

Lupine that grows profusely in the area.

Jay traveled this road extensively in the 1960s when he was stationed in Hancock, MI as an Electronics Technician in the Coast Guard. He was responsible for maintaining the radio beacon navigation and communication system electronics at the lighthouses and life boat stations along the western shores of Lake Superior He didn’t recognize much along the way as the road has been widened and where there were no buildings there are now houses, resorts and shops, but he remembered stopping to photograph the waterfalls visible from the roadside. Back then they did not have paved parking lots where one could pull off the road; just the road and a shoulder to stop on, take the picture and move on.

Goosberry Falls that is a stone’s throw from the highway bridge.

On Monday, June 14^th, Chris and Jay drove from St. Paul to the North Shore and stopped at a campground in Schroeder, about halfway up the coast and within easy driving distance to many of the parks, waterfalls and lakes. Chris was anxious to start photographing the next day and awoke to a fog that had settled on the region. The water temperatures of Lake Superior rarely get above 40 degrees Fahrenheit so when warm winds blow over it fog is the result. Many days the fog will burn off as the sun rises, but not this day. Most people would be put off by such weather but it is one of Chris’ favorite times to photograph. The light is very soft and diffused and landscapes become surreal and mystical. She spent hours photographing along the shore just below their campsite and by the end of the day felt like she was finally doing what she’d planned to do on the Odyssey all along – photograph!! She and Jay had travelled so much in Florida, a landscape that was for the most part uninspiring to Chris, that now, ten months after they left Maryland she was finally getting her teeth into subjects that she felt excited about photographing. She ended the day with some beautiful images and soaring spirits.

Chris’ favorite image of the day - a time exposure of water flowing over rocks along the shore.

One of the largest waterfalls on the North Shore is Grand Portage, just a few miles from the Canadian border and about an hour’s drive from Schroeder. Chris and Jay headed for it on a brilliantly sunny day, not the best conditions for photographing water, but, as it turned out, that wouldn’t be a problem as the park was closed due to road and parking lot resurfacing work. As luck would have it there was another attraction in the area that they might have missed had the falls been open – the Grand Portage National Monument, located on the Ojibwa Indian Reservation, is a re-creation of the Northwest Trading Company post that thrived in the area during the late 1700s and early 1800s, before it merged with the more well-known Hudson Bay Company in 1821. Besides a beautifully done exhibit in the Visitor Center, which explained all about the trading process, the Voyageurs that transported the furs and other goods, and the lifestyles of the times, there were several other areas on the grounds devoted to the history of the post.

One had several birch bark wigwams and a square shaped, raised garden in which Margaret, an Ojibwa woman, was cultivating the soil with a hoe made from the shoulder of a moose! She explained that she was planting a Sister garden consisting of corn, squash and beans. The corn was planted in small, low mounds and, as it grew, eventually became supports for the beans that were planted around them. The beans fixed nitrogen into the soil for healthy future plantings. The squash was planted between the mounds and acted as a ground cover but also produced a plentiful food staple for the tribe. Chris was curious as to how the people stayed warm in the wig wams during the frigid winter weather and Margaret explained that they added an extra layer of birch bark and stuffed the gap in between with moss and other insulating material.

A wigwam about 8-10 feet in diameter.

Margaret with her hoe made from a Moose shoulder blade.

The warehouse building housed a collection of birch bark canoes. A fit, dark haired, bearded, middle aged man worked there in the summer making the canoes and showed us some of the fascinating, original, Indian construction techniques that he still employs today. The binding material that is threaded through the bark and around the gunnels of the vessel is created by splitting ¼” or more diameter spruce roots. His assistant demonstrated the amazingly simple technique. Further discussion with the boat-builder revealed that he was married to an Ojibwa woman and they lived, without electricity, in a cabin in the woods. He builds canoes during the summer at the Monument, manages his dog sleds in the winter and in the shoulder seasons (commonly known as mud season in the spring and fall) creates handmade gift items which he sells locally. His main transportation is a motorcycle during mild weather and a Toyota pickup truck for inclement. If the world ended tomorrow this guy would survive and we would all perish. There is truly something admirable about a person who is devoted to this simple way of life, but Jay and Chris agreed that they do love their hot running water and electrical conveniences. In the end, there are always trade-offs.

Splitting Spruce root.

The warehouse full of birchbark canoes and Jay talking with the craftsman.

In the middle of the main stockade area sat a large log structure, called the Great Hall with a smaller one housing the kitchen joined to the back via a breezeway. Volunteers in period costume explained life at the trading post in great detail – more so than Chris and Jay had ever experienced at other similar venues. One woman talked at great length about how beaver hats were made and why they were so highly prized, expensive and water-resistant. She explained how the trading post was there mainly to trade with the Indians who were the primary trappers in the area. Items such as wool blankets, metal cooking pots, firearms, traps and Venetian glass beads for decorating clothing became essential trade goods sought by the Indians.

The trading store had pelts of all different animals hanging on pegs so that you could feel the difference in their furs.

Jay and Chris is a bunk bed in the Guides and Interpreters bunkhouse.

At the kitchen, the ladies were just about ready to remove some biscuits they had baking in the ovens behind the building. They had built a fire inside the oven then, in the traditional way, tested the temperature by inserting an arm into the oven. Satisfied with the heat, the coals of the fire were scraped out onto the ground and doused with water from a nearby bucket. The pan of biscuits was inserted, the door closed and after the allotted time, voila, homemade, buttery biscuits. Visitors were not offered any but the volunteer staff was delighted to partake. The day turned out to be one of the most fun and informative of the Odyssey thus far.

The cooks with the pan of biscuits they’d just removed from the oven behind them.

The rest of the week Chris focused on photographing as much of the area as possible. She and Jay visited several of the falls along the shore, hiked an inland lake in the pouring rain, watched moose and deer cross their paths on remote roads in the Superior National Forest, paused to savor the haunting call of a Loon, marveled at the fog that drifted ashore and crept through the coastal forests and in general tried to capture and absorb as much of the experience as possible.

Another convention commitment necessitated moving the RV to Duluth on Wednesday, June 23^rd. Chris needed to be near an airport that would get her to and from Orlando, FL and Jay wanted to be closer to civilization while she was gone. Although they visited many beautiful places and Chris captured some wonderful photographs during their stay on the North Shore, there never seemed to be enough time to do all that was on their list. In the big picture the life lesson is to be grateful for what you have. We truly feel blessed to be living this lifestyle.

Jay felt that Jim Croce’s song, Time in a bottle, was very applicable to their feelings of never having enough time to spend in these beautiful places they find.