Superior Hiking Trail Day 13: Sunday, September 6
/Finished the SHT (mile 297.8), walked 17.1 miles today
Awoke to sunshine instead of the expected clouds, and instead of scrambling out of camp as fast as possible like usual, decided to sit around the campsite benches having a lazy breakfast with my new frens. Some of the other people at the site, whose names I never caught, had broken camp at first light, but in their haste (“Do not be hasty!” - Treebeard) they left their hammock straps dangling on the trees! That’s going to be a fun realization later, especially since they plan to be out for three weeks on a sobo thru-hike ...
On the move by 8am, there was a spring in my step and for the first twelve miles I stopped only once, at a spot my guidebook inexplicably listed as “Hellacious overlook” (gems from elsewhere in the databook include “Spur trail to mediocre view” and “Too many stairs”). There were several friendly chit-chats with the southbounders I kept running into, some of whom had just started thru-hike attempts and looked entirely too clean and happy. I wanted to wag a gnarled finger at them and say, “You kids! The mud, roots, swamps, overgrowth, rain and lack of views will grind you down soon enough!” but I really resent it when people are negative on the trails (“you are allowed to complain out loud once per trail” is a rule I try to abide by) so I held back. And at any rate, on the balance of things I’ve had a pleasant time out here, with the only struggles coming from decisions I made to be alone and to push miles alone and take no breaks—if you don’t do dumb shit like that, and you have/make friends, and you don’t get rained on TOO often, you’ll probably have a great time on the Superior Hiking Trail.
Anyhow. With six miles to go, I passed the highest point on the SHT, at a whopping 1829 feet MSL, in the middle of a forest. With three miles to go, the trail was inundated with shin-deep mud and standing water for 50 yards or so—no way to avoid it, no bog bridges, no nothing. It was a fitting parting gift from a trail that was never far from mud (also a nice welcome for the sobos). With one mile to go, I passed the trailhead parking lot with Dana’s car in it, my ticket out of the woods, and with zero miles to go I reached the trail’s northern terminus at the 270-Degree Overlook, just a whisker away from the Canadian border. It’s about as good of a panoramic as you’ll get in northern MN, and I commend whoever decided to end the trail at that spot. I was lucky enough to avoid the forecasted rain all day, although it did sprinkle as I signed the register with my usual Tennyson thing, making the ink all splotchy. After that there wasn’t much to do but schlep back to the car, hope it started (it did!), and bring it back to Duluth. On the way I picked up Dana and Barley in Lutsen, where we stopped for dinner and I consumed a big slutty double cheeseburger with cheese curds as my celebration meal. Tomorrow I clean up, tie up loose ends and figure out what the hell is next!