Most of the waterfalls and sea caves Chris was interested in photographing were in the area of Cornucopia, a very small town on the north side of the peninsula from Bayfield. Small doesn’t begin to describe the size of this town. It is more like a village. The “main road” has a large, multi-function, grocery, hardware, snack, gift shop store on one side, and on the other, a fairly nice restaurant/bar called Fish Lipps, a coffee/gift shop, a salon and a post office whose sign boasts that it is Wisconsin’s northern most.
The main street of Cornucopia.
A claim to fame.
After a quick visit to the local beach Chris and Jay went into “town” to see if anyone could give them directions to the Lost Creek Waterfall they’d seen in the Bayfield County guide book. The nice lady at the register said to go to the end of the street and turn left and it would be on the right and there was a sign. There was no sign. After four trips up and down the road, halfway to Bayfield and back, and information from more “locals” who told us to go down a road that did have a sign, but it wasn’t the one to the falls, Chris got a hunch and suggested they turn down, are you ready for this, Trail Drive. Half a mile down the road and Bingo, there was the “sign”!!!
Late afternoon was approaching so they quickly donned their hiking boots, loaded the backpacks, grabbed the camera gear and trekked a mile into the forest, carpeted heavily with thigh-high (in Chris’ case, waist high) fern, to the aptly named Lost Falls. Jay is such a wonderful companion as he patiently lets Chris do her thing while he reads his favorite magazines to pass the time; in this case, hours. By the time Chris had exhausted all the views she wanted to capture of the waterfall, she noticed how gray the light seemed. Jay doesn’t wear a watch and when she looked at hers, realized it was an hour before sunset and they were a mile into deep woods with no cell signal and no flashlights, they beat a hasty retreat to the truck. As it turns out the area is at such a high latitude that as much as 30 minutes after dark there is still adequate light to see but they wanted to avoid encountering any large critters that tend to wander about in deep woods at dusk. They were never so happy to see Big Red at the end of a day.
The Lost Falls.
A special treat awaited them on their drive out of the woods. A speckled fawn stood in the middle of the road staring at them. As Jay slowed the truck to a stop, on legs that seemed not entirely in its control, the fawn began to gleefully prance toward us. Jay and Chris were a little confused, but in awe of this precious creature, and grinning from ear to ear waited to see what it would do. It suddenly stopped, confused that we were not Mama, and cocked its head toward the woods. There she was - just to the right of us, Mama had doubled back to guide her errant offspring into the safety of the undergrowth. The little thing then bounded off the road and disappeared. This was not the first time that Chris and Jay had encountered doe and fawn in the area but they’d never had one approach them. Chris fumbled for the camera but the moment was past.
It so happened it was Chris’ birthday and Jay was determined to take her out to dinner. By this time it was after 9 p.m. and the decision had to be made to go back to Fish Lipps, and take their chances at what type of fare they would find in such an establishment, or head back to Bayfield. It would be close to 10 p.m. by the time they would arrive in Bayfield and they decided the chance that anything would be open was slim to none. Chris figured Jay had an ulterior motive since his preference is to have a decent meal for dinner, which is difficult when many nights of the week they are out in the boonies photographing until dark; and since Chris prepares vegan meals, this was an opportunity for him to score some meat. So, Fish Lipps it was.
The restaurant was more of a dark, wood paneled sports bar and they were the only customers. A slim, cheery 20-something waitress attended them and with great trepidation they ordered from the surprisingly diverse menu. Chris actually found a (mostly) vegan meal of rice, corn and beans which turned out to have a yummy sour cream based sauce and Jay’s reaction to his black bean burger (he didn’t opt for meat?) was “Holy fruitloops, this is good!”. Content with the day’s photo accomplishments and tummies full of yummies, through the finally dark night they headed home.
The next afternoon they decided to hike to the major attraction of Cornucopia, the 50+ foot high cliffs of sand caves that span the coastline for miles. Getting to them requires a mile long hike into the woods, from a little known road (whose whereabouts a local gave them correct information on how to reach) and traversing small ravines at surprisingly frequent intervals. Laden with camera gear, snacks, water, Jay’s reading material to pass the time, jackets, (they remembered flashlights), and covered in mosquito repellant they set out in the mid-afternoon to catch the best late day light on the cliffs. Finding good vistas from which to photograph them was difficult as the “points of land” where one would normally perch and look back on them were more like small pimples. They persevered, pressed on, found better views and Chris got to work photographing, continuing through the evening to capture the setting sun. This time it was well after the sun set before they packed up and began the trek back to Red.
A small section of the miles of shoreline dotted with caves.
The hike out was worth it to have captured this sunset.
Remember Cornucopia is not what one would call an even moderately populated town and the next closest was on the Indian Reservation of Red Cliff over 20 miles away. Homes on the entire peninsula were sparsely sprinkled with acres of fields and woodlands separating them. Wildlife abounds in the area. With the gray evening light gradually dimming at every step and flashlight in hand, all Chris could think about was crossing paths with an unsuspecting bear, or a doe who felt that her fawn was being threatened or an angry she-wolf or a teeed off badger, who was surprised by their presence. What if one of them slipped and sprained an ankle? What ifs ran through her head and she continued to quicken the pace, pausing periodically for Jay, puffing along behind, to catch his breath. The mile-long hike finally ended in a safe arrival at Red. On the drive home, Jay shared her concerns and agreed that they didn’t want to do that again. There was no use in tempting fate and from now on sunset photos would be taken in areas that were a short, safe distance from the truck.
After the day’s experience, they felt that viewing the cliffs from the water was admittedly the best way to see them. The next day they arranged to rent a canoe in Bayfield and drop it in the water at a beach access area close to the cliffs. The canoe was unlike anything they’d used before. It was a heavy, unwieldy, red, molded plastic behemoth made by Mad River. Chris and Jay had never had trouble lifting any other canoes or kayaks over their heads and walking substantial distances with them to put them in and out of the water. They did a lot more dragging than lifting of this contraption as they descended a several story high staircase from the parking lot to the beach.
The forecast was for mild winds but by the time they arrived at the drop in location it had, shall we say, freshened? Chris talked with a man returning from a morning kayak and he said it was pretty rough. But Chris and Jay felt they were experienced enough boaters to handle what appeared to be 1 to 2 foot waves and decided to take the plunge. After stroking through the small breakers at the beach, they turned toward the cliffs and, with the wind off the quarter stern, giving them a slight push, it wasn’t too bad a paddle. The weight of the boat and chine construction of the hull probably worked to their advantage in keeping them upright since the seas now showed signs of white caps as they pressed to their mile distant goal. Once there, they stayed well offshore to prevent being battered against the sandstone bluffs with the seas flexing around them in a myriad of directions as the waves ricocheted off the cliff walls and intermingled with the incoming swells.
Although the waves don’t look too big here,
note that only the upper body of the kayaker on the right is visible.
After capturing a handful of photos from the point-and-shoot and Chris experiencing an uncomfortable stirring in her stomach, they’d had enough, reversed course and headed back. With the wind against them, and having freshened to a greater degree, this proved to be more difficult than the trip out. Both Jay and Chris are fairly fit for their ages and steady, measured strokes finally got them back to the beach with enough energy left over to drag the beast back up the stairs and strap it into the truck for the ride home.
Due to the rough weather, the trip to the cliffs had taken much less time than planned so, they decided to end the day on a more relaxed note and headed for Siskiwit Falls. The day of the Lost Falls adventure, they learned of this fall which was just outside of town. They had been told that the water was very shallow and the stream walkable for a good distance from the road access area. With feet clad in water-resistant sandals and shaded by overhanging trees, they ambled downstream through ankle high water that flowed over a streambed of solid sandstone. The water slipped over slabs that stepped downward like rice paddies descending a steep hill. Laughing and marveling at the experience, Jay and Chris picked their way through the tiers down several foot high cascading falls to the next level which led to more falls, which led to more falls. It became their new, favorite way to explore streams and their sandals would now live in the truck ready for their next water adventure.
A section of the cool, inviting Siskiwit River.
Chris’ expression says it all.
Siskiwit Falls was a wonderfully fun, relaxing way to end our stay in the Bayfield area. The next day, Friday, July 9th, we left this peaceful countryside and continued our summer tour east to the Keweenaw Peninsula and Hancock, MI where Jay lived early in his Coast Guard career.
