July 11, 2024

Two Harbors to Stewart River Campsite

5.5 miles

Town day morning! Guess what I do on this town day morning? If you guessed quiet morning time to drink coffee and write, congratulations! You know me or have been reading this blog for a while. The morning time is less peaceful than it might have been had there not been so many people in the lobby complaining about the water pressure (a city issue, apparently; thank goodness it didn’t strike yesterday), but it is still nice to caffeinate and get caught up on writing. Machine joins eventually and we have breakfast, then I finish organizing my resupply and repacking.

We walk to the Superior Hiking Trail Association office so that Machine can pick up his fresh pair of shoes that my mom sent; the package also contains my puffy so that I can mail Slapshot’s back to him before he leaves on his next trip. At the office I also buy a sweatshirt with the SHT logo on it, a postcard, and a trail marker. It is somewhat ironic that I’m going to have so much SHT swag after this hike when (a) I have less stuff from my AT and PCT thru hikes and (b) this was not my favorite hiking experience. But whatever, the logo is so dang cool and it looks great on every surface. After that we go to the post office so I can mail my goodies home and send back the borrowed puffy. Town tasks complete. Check. We return to the hotel, pack up for a final time, and head out.

Jk! We stop at McDiddlyDoo’s first. I feel gross when I leave but at least my taste buds are happy to feel like they belong to a thru hiker once again. We then walk to the road that runs straight to the Reeves Road Trailhead (with a small detour at a bookstore hehe) and stick out our thumbs. Within minutes a truck pulls over. Okay?? Why is hitching so easy here? Those friendly Minnesotans, I tell you what.

At the trailhead we take a little stop to share a yogurt and then DEET up for the woods. Then we walk on the road walk portion of the trail and eventually head back into the woods. And the trail is magical. Nearly completely dry for four miles. Minimal rocks. Essentially flat. A gorgeous forest illuminated in the late afternoon light. There are still mosquitoes, but the walking is absolutely glorious. I am consciously enjoying hiking WHILE I am hiking. Type ONE fun. I’m living!

We take a small break on a log, then later walk under a railroad bridge, appreciate some flowers on the other side, turn right and walk up a hill, gather water at the river, and then we are already done for the day. The campsite is lovely and there is a logbook on a post at the site. We set up our tents and take our time settling in. I sign the logbook, organize my exorbitant amount of food, and just relax and revel in the strange feeling of being done early because the trail was just normal trail!

After we both have dinner and write our journal entries, we decide to have some TV time with the shows that Machine has downloaded. Just as I’m getting ready to go over to his “house,” we hear a voice. At first I think it’s just the river, because my brain has been doing that weird thing where it hears human voices in the white noise of the rushing water. But then it gets clearer. It’s definitely a human. A singing human. Uh oh. We didn’t think we’d see anyone else out here so we set up right next to the fire ring, taking up the prime real estate of the campsite.

The mysterious singer materializes into the form of a hiker, a tall looking, youngish seeming guy with a wide brim hat and a dark mosquito net. He sees the campsite, stops singing, loudly calls, “FUCK!” and proceeds to walk towards us.

“That was a long day!” he exclaims as he walks into the campsite.

“Sorry we’re set up right here,” I venture. “We didn’t know if we’d see anyone else so we just took up the best spaces.”

“Oh no, the ‘fuck’ was because I was tired, not because you were here!” he explains. “Camp wherever the hell you want! I did a 20 mile day today.”

We never do get his name, but we do learn that he’s also thru hiking, but northbound, and he’s limited to two weeks so he has to do big days. He’s also a teacher—middle school science. We continue to talk as he finishes his setting up tasks. Then it’s TV time: some old comfort episodes of Brooklyn Nine-Nine. One of the episodes has my favorite Jake Peralta moment, where he tries to annoy a potential perpetrator into confessing by playing the guitar badly and screaming. It rockets me into fits of laughter every time.

We’re trying to do a big day tomorrow. Hopefully the trail stays this nice.