Trail Time – Moose Magic
The cold came quickly to the Gunflint Trail. This morning’s low was 29 degrees.The ferns and grasses on the shady side of the road are covered in frost, rimmed with sparkling crystals of ice. Fall is upon us.
Just a few days ago it was sunny and warm enough to go about in shorts and shirtsleeves. There were no bothersome insects as I hiked down the long hill to the lake to swam in the cold water during that brief lovely spell of weather. The air was soft and warm; the breeze blowing gently from the south. My friend Kelly — my otter watcher — sat on the dock keeping lookout for me, my dog Ursa beside her. I swam toward the sunlight from the cool shadows closer to shore. Not far away a fish rose to the surface. The water certainly felt brisk except for the top few inches that had been warmed by the morning sun. In those moments suspended and surrounded by cold liquid, you feel every inch of your skin. That might have been my last swim this year, but some things you can only know in retrospect.
I recently heard that the big winds come when the leaves turn yellow. A friend was in Manitoba where her native guide imparted that bit of wisdom. The leaves here have been turning yellow for a couple weeks, bringing the big winds with them. Last week the wind brought rain that thundered on our metal roof, joining the wind in taking down leaves by the score. The next morning, a warm sun was shining down as I walked up the hill. From the wet earth, clouds of mist were rising, floating up to get tangled in the tallest trees before dissipating in the clear blue sky. Later that day, walking up the hill again, the air was still and I heard the sound of branches breaking. I held my breath as I peeked around a big birch tree, and there he was.
He lurched up from the woods on the other side of the Trail and stood for a moment, broadside to me, a big dark brown rectangular slab. My dog woofed once and then big antlers swung around as the bull moose turned to look where the noise came from. And then he walked straight toward us, nostrils opening and closing, trying to smell what he couldn’t see clearly. Moose have poor eyesight, and I both wanted and didn’t want him to come any closer. The males are in rut now —meaning that they can be territorial and their jobs of vying with other males and looking for female moose to mate are uppermost in their mammalian brains. This means they can be aggressive. I planned my getaway path in case he started running, but he walked leisurely toward us for a few thrilling yards before he headed down into the woods on my side of the road. I held my position as I held my breath, making sure that there were lots of trees between me and the moose. I strained to hear him moving through the woods, but I heard nothing.
I waited a few moments before I turned to walk back down the hill, and then he crossed the gravel road in front of me. I saw again that large slab of solid moose body walking so very quietly and so very quickly perpendicular to my path, down the drive to our cabin. My dog, Ursa, was convinced there was yet another moose in the woods — she was staring and woofing again back up the hill into the trees— and I trust her, so after a few minutes we went down the hill, back home, following now in the steps of the bull moose, all my senses alert. But he had walked silently past my cabin, without leaving any sign, and then had disappeared into the woods once again.
It amazes each time I experience how quickly and quietly these huge creatures can melt into the woods. It’s a kind of moose magic. We can see more easily into the woods now that a lot of leaves have fallen, but it seems to make no difference. I have seen many moose quietly evaporate into the forest. It makes you wonder to yourself, “did that just happen?”
The yellow leaves, the frosted ferns, moose encounters: all these things mean autumn has come, with winter not far behind it. And it’s that time of year again for our hard-working resort and restaurant owners to close shop for a few months, give their good workers a breather, and then reopen for the winter season. Gunflint Lodge alone stays open all year on the Trail. Check websites for closing dates if you’re heading up the Trail to enjoy this fabulous fall weather. Remember to wear blaze orange if you’re heading into the woods. It’s hunting season now for grouse and deer season opens soon.
— Marcia Roepke on the Gunflint Trail
