Navigating the Apostle Islands National Lakeshore, a natural gem in our own backyard. By Simon Peter Groebner.
Lake Superior's waves were picking up as I rounded the remote northern tip of Madeline Island in a borrowed recreational kayak.
I had been paddling solo for two hours on a hot, brilliant July day, and my arms and face were burning. Four miles across an open channel, Stockton Island filled my view. The largest mass within the Apostle Islands National Lakeshore, it looked like a vast floating forest, a real-world never-never land.
Just as enticing was the mirage-like Michigan Island 3 miles to my right, with its gleaming white lighthouse towering over high red cliffs. Alone on the endless azure lake, I might have been an original 17th-century French explorer.
The distant isles stoked my desire for conquest and physical achievement. Could I make it across to one of them today? The answer was no. Tossed by a 3-foot swell, my kayak slammed down onto a submerged boulder. For a few precarious moments, I could have tipped into the clear, cold lake. I was out of my depth — and my open cockpit was filling with water. I paddled furiously to the safety of shore. For the first time, and not the last, I learned the meaning of the Apostle Islands' enduring mantra: "The lake is the boss.
