Highpoint #8: Minnesota

Fri, 27 May 2011 16:20:19 -0500

When we left to visit Minnesota’s highest point, Eagle Mountain, we were a little worried about the forecast. The weather was expected to be rain most of the weekend, but since a hotel was booked and we had the weekend free, we thought we would take a chance and try it. Rain gear was packed just in case.
Eagle Mountain is located Northeast of Lutsen, Minnesota, about two hours out of Duluth, Minnesota. At 2,301 feet (according to the plaque at the top), Eagle Mountain isn’t considered a very high highpoint. It is known, however, for the strenuous hike to the top. The hike ended up being approximately 7 miles round trip, and took a little over five hours to completed. It was a LOT of hiking.
Lucky for us, there are numerous signs directing people as they take the long, long gravel roads farther and farther into the wilderness to get to the parking lot.

I believe we ended up driving about 17 miles on dirt roads, but when we arrived, there was a nice parking lot.

The picture of the parking lot above was taken after it started raining (more on that later). The trail starts just to the right of the parking lot entrance.

There is a little box on the sign above which contains permits to enter the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness. There are pencils next to the box, and there is no cost for a permit. You simply fill it out and drop a copy into the box, then start your hike.

Along the way, you’ll cross about four “bridges” made of wood planks. They cross the wet swamp or stream areas on the trail. The trail is fairly rocky and full of tree roots, so we were glad to have good hiking shoes on that day.

I carried a backpack full of rain gear and our lunch. We also had water bottles, and were very happy to have brought them since the hike is a long one, with a steep section near the end (the last half mile or so).
Along the way, you will officially enter the Boundary Waters.

Some of the views along the hike are incredible. You are really in a beautiful part of the country, and truly in the wilderness. Just make sure you take a break from looking at the rocks and tree roots as you walk to enjoy the scenery.

Once you reach the top, usually fully sweating by that time, you’ll see a plaque which marks the highest location in Minnesota. Behind the plaque is the geological marker.

Since we made this hike with a family (including our daughter, age 5), we were passed by a number of people along the way. Most were there to highpoint, but one group of about 10 people were there cutting logs off of the trail. They carried saws and tree trimming equipment.

We reached the summit after a little over two hours of hiking. We stayed for a short while for photographs, then turned around and started down. We stopped at a nice scenic overlook to eat lunch.

Shortly after lunch, the rain started. It rained the entire rest of the way down the mountain. We quickly learned that we should have stopped at the first sign of rain and put on all of our rain gear. It was a long way back down, and we were thoroughly soaked.
The rocks were slippery when wet, and the trail soon got muddy. Our five-year-old daughter cried a little on the way down, mostly due to hunger and being tired. We ended up carrying her for a little while, then she was fine. She really held up well during this trip, and her small feet probably made it easier to step between all of the tree roots on the trail.

Once we were wet, we couldn’t get any wetter. So we made the best of it, and finally made it back to the car.

Once we warmed up, we realized we had successfully completed a very strenuous hike! We had finally made the Minnesota highpoint. This was probably one of our more difficult highpoints to date, but also the most rewarding.

Perseverance

Sat, 22 Jan 2011 16:48:07 -0600

When people find out we are from Minnesota, the next thing out of their mouth is usually something about how cold it is there and how glad they don’t live in the freezing cold weather. I usually try not to discourage this type of comment, because if everyone found out how much fun it is to live in Minnesota, they might all move here and destroy the good thing we have going.
The image above was taken on Thursday, January 21, 2011 just north of Minneapolis, Minnesota. This is probably one of the coldest temperatures I’ve seen here, but it didn’t feel all that cold since there was no wind. The indoor temperature shown was the interior wall temperature, since the wall is not a perfect insulator. Still, the house was toasty warm.
Every once in a while, we find that life presents a couple of challenges along our journey. Like missing a connecting plane flight when you have kids with you, or finding out that the taxi ride was twice as expensive as you had planned. Most of the time, it is these unexpected events, and their solutions, that make the memories of each trip we remember. Nobody remembers the check-in at the hotel that went perfectly, or the highpoint that was an easy drive up and back. But we certainly remember the time that we asked for directions and spent an hour taking the wrong road to a destination that should have been only 10 minutes away.
So waking up to -24 degrees might seem like a burden to some, but to us, it’s something we will certainly remember (and talk about) our entire lives.

Highpoint #7: Michigan

Sat, 24 Jul 2010 04:20:31 -0500

Once we left the town of L’Anse in Michigan, we found this highpoint was at the end of a dirt road. Thinking we didn’t have very far to travel, we forged ahead down the road above. Little did we know.
After driving on the dirt road for several miles, we came to a roadblock.

The roadblock was somewhat of a joke since it looked like people had just created a path to the left around the roadblock. (See below.)

Taking the side path would not be a smart move, since the road contained a number of fallen trees, most of which had been covered by dirt making a rather large bump in the road. It looked as if only ATVs could travel past the road block.
The signs pointing the way to this highpoint were very well placed, although the GPS we used in the car did not seem to want us to follow the marked route. We ignored the GPS and followed the road signs.

Overall, it was the most difficult highpoint road we have encountered, although this road was not very steep. It would be advisable for anyone traveling to this highpoint to take a four-wheel drive vehicle, especially if it has recently rained.
When we arrived at the highpoint, it looked like a small camp site. It had a picnic table, a fire pit, a grill, and a bench. There was a log book in a small box mounted to a tree, placed there by a scouting group. There was also a personal memorial to someone mounted to a tree. We had mixed feelings about this. On one hand, using a state highpoint for a personal memorial is a little tacky. On the other, it certainly is an interesting way to remember someone. Someone had also placed a log on one of the benches, to be used as a stand for a self portrait.

We found the marker, and took the obligatory family photograph to prove we had been there.

On your way out, make sure you take a look at the hidden lake. The view was very, very nice.

Overall, another interesting highpoint accomplished!

Highpoint #6: Wisconsin

Sat, 27 Mar 2010 16:17:14 -0500

Wisconsin is very similar to Minnesota. Oddly enough, after living next door to this state for my entire life, I really hadn’t seen the northern portion in any detail. The state is populated with farms, about a quarter of a mile apart. Scattered across the farmland are small patches of wooded areas.
The one thing I couldn’t figure out about Wisconsin is why every farm had at least one barn that was in a state of collapsing, or had already collapsed. The miles flew past on our journey as we watched house after house sit next to a barn that was probably over a hundred years old. This is clearly a state with a lot of history.
After driving for about three hours from the Twin Cities, we arrived at the county park where Timms Hill is located. Wisconsin has actually turned their highpoint into a park, which makes it a very nice place to visit. In fact, while we were there, a couple had just gotten engaged a few minutes before our arrival.

Timms Hill (yes, without an apostrophe) is 1,952 feet above sea level, making this highpoint one of the lower elevations we have visted thus far. The drive there was relatively flat, with a few small hills when we approached the park. When we arrived, we were told there was a one-way road that would lead to a parking lot near the top of the hill. Apparently the road was closed, because there was a gate blocking our entrance. No problem, we simply parked the car and went on foot from this point forward.

The road wasn’t very long, perhaps a half mile to the parking lot near the top. We found some snow on the road, which means it was one of the last areas to melt since most of the snow everywhere else was already gone for the spring.

At the parking lot, the county had placed a sign showing the hiking trails in the area. There was even a small playground for the children. We were really pleased to see this, since it meant our kids could burn off some energy after being in the car for the past three hours!

On our way to the top, we spotted the tower. It was easy to see because the leaves had not yet come in for the season. I cannot imagine how hard this would be to spot if it was summer. The tower was a solid wood structure, about five or six stories high. Of all the structures we have climbed thus far, this one was the scariest. Although it was solid with well build railings, we kept our visit to the top very brief.

However, next to the tower was a taller fire tower (with someone in it!) that was even more scary looking. Apparently the man in the fire tower was able to drive up since his truck was parked at the base of the wooden tower.
The view, as usual for those sites with a tower, was fantastic. Even for being such a low highpoint, this one was impressive.

We found the geological marker under the fire tower next to the wooden tower and took our usual picture.

The walk back to the car took about ten minutes, mostly on the paved road. All things considered, Wisconsin was a really fun highpoint to visit.

When mountains are too big to climb

Sun, 19 Jul 2009 15:09:28 -0500

There are a few highpoints that will be difficult to accomplish. Mt. McKinley, otherwise known as Denali (“The Great One”) is located in Alaska and is the highest mountain peak in North America.
Another one which may prove difficult is Mt. Rainier, an active volcano located in Washington. At 14,411 feet without a road to the top, this one will be a major adventure to summit.
We all know that some of life’s greatest rewards come after some of the hardest struggles in life. When facing a task like climbing a tall mountain, we have a path that leads to two choices. First, we can remove this item from our list of items to do, or second, we can decide to tackle the problem head on. If you chose the first path, you can stop reading right now. However, if you chose the second path, you have clearly selected the most difficult outcome, and in the case of climbing a mountain, may put lives in danger.
I know that taking my family on these highpointing adventures may be difficult, but this is the path I have chosen. Some of these states cost a lot of money. For some, I need to be really physically fit. I’ve also decided to factor safety into our choices, by waiting until our children are fully grown (and able to make their own choices) before we tackle the hard states. If at some point, my kids decide they do not want to come with us, so be it. That’s their decision to make. Likewise, if at some point I decide that my body cannot take any more trips to difficult mountains, like Mt. McKinley, I’m okay with that decision too.
Until then, I plan to continue to work on my fitness, to plan trips to visit new states, and to try to enjoy life as much as possible along the way. Hey, if life was easy, why do people die trying to live it?
To quote some famous lyrics from Garth Brooks in his song “Pushing Up Daisies”, “There are two dates in time that they’ll carve on your stone, and everyone knows what they mean. What’s more important is the time that is known by that little dash there in between.”
That’s it, the little dash is all that matters.
So when your kids are screaming in the back seat of a car, and you’d rather tear your hair out than have to stop another fight, just think about that little dash and remember, the live you spend living is all that matters. Take a deep breath, and remember that you get a new chance tomorrow to try something new.
Go ahead, make the hard choices, and learn to love the consequences.

Highpoint #5: Iowa

Sun, 7 Jun 2009 21:13:30 -0500

After a very wet camping trip at Blue Mound State Park (in Minnesota), we drove south to Iowa’s highest point - Hawkeye Point. It is located just north of Sibley, Iowa or just south of the Minnesota/Iowa border. There is not much to see along the way except wind turbines. The land is mostly farm fields and prarie, but still very beautiful in its own way. It is one of the features of this country that make it unique and which also makes highpointing interesting.
When we arrived, we saw exactly what we expected at this highpoint - long stretches of farm fields as far as the eye could see. No mountains, no valleys, just miles and miles of rich agricultural farmland.

The drive up is a very short driveway past a former farm house which is now owned by the University of Iowa. It looks a little odd with the University of Iowa sign in front of it. I could easily see the house in its former use as someone’s home.

There is a small parking lot, suitable for about six cars, and the walk to the highest point is about a tenth of a mile over very flat land. It’s not very far at all, and the elevation gain is only a couple of feet. Seriously!

Approximately two years ago the farm was sold to the county, and the University of Iowa has apparently erected a small marker and shelter. They also put up some fancy signposts which point to the various other highest points. Apparently they have plans to improve the site, as was evidenced by a drawing on the small shelter wall.

There are a few picnic tables at this location, so it would be a great spot to stop and have lunch.

If you look off into the distance, you can see only farm land. When we arrived on June 7, 2009, we were the third visitor that day. We ran into another group as we were leaving. They were on their 17th highpoint. This only makes number five for us!

I’m not sure about the meaning of these license plates, but they were very interesting.

The signposts pointed to other highpoints, but it appeared some of the directions were slightly off. One of the signs facing us was one of our previous highpoints!
There is a marker in the ground indicating the farm and the elevation of this highpoint. Of course, we took our obligatory foot photograph to prove we were all there!
Compared with other states, this is a relatively easy location to visit. Just don’t expect fantastic views of canyons or mountain peaks. The farms have their own charm, and smell, which is something most other states can’t brag about. We enjoyed this trip, even in the wet weather!

Daylight Saving Time

Mon, 9 Mar 2009 20:46:08 -0500

I hate Daylight Saving Time. I hate the fact that we, as the human species, are the only living creatures that find it necessary to keep track of time, and when we do, to make adjustments to it twice a year. Sure, it’s great to have an extra hour of time in the fall, but in our limited foresight, we fail to understand the havoc it causes in the spring when we lose an hour of sleep. However, Congress, in their infinite wisdom, has elected to keep Daylight Saving Time and force us to suffer through this practice year after year.
As of 2009, 131 countries have seen the light and have chosen not to observe DST. Unfortunately, 148 countries still follow the archaic practice, believing that observation of DST results in lower energy usage, lower traffic fatalities, lower crime rates, and forces us to remember to change the batteries in our smoke detectors. Of those countries that have chosen to follow DST, not all follow it in a consistent manner, even the United States. Some locations, like Arizona, have come to their senses and have refused to follow the lemmings off this cliff. Are they any worse off because of it?
What DST proponents fail to mention, is that the energy savings are disputable and even the farmers dislike the clock change. The farmers? But isn’t that the whole reason we started this? Unfortunately for the farmers, because grain harvesting is best done after the dew evaporates, having your field hands arrive and leave earlier on a farm is a bad thing! Furthermore, because we have fixed work schedules, a clock shift disrupts our circadian rhythms and causes a reduction in worker efficiency. I’m not sure about you, but that cup of coffee on the first morning after the clock change forward certainly isn’t strong enough to justify it year after year.
Beyond the scientific reasons why a clock change is a bad thing, what about the unscientific aspects? Who really enjoys having to change 15 clocks around a typical house every half year? Not only do you need to change your main alarm clock to wake up at the correct time, but you need to remember to change the clock in your car, on your coffee maker, and even on your thermostat. And forget about that 50 pound antique clock hanging on your wall. You know that once you get it down, change the time, and hang it back up that it is guaranteed to be a few minutes off, requiring you to spend ten minutes puttering with it just to get it back to the correct time.
Of all the clocks to change, perhaps the hardest clock to reset is that of small children. Take my two-year-old daughter as an example. She has a very well established bedtime and morning routine. It has taken us the past four months to finally have her wake up before I leave for work, allowing me the chance to say goodbye to her each morning. Now, after shifting our clocks forward an hour, I will leave for work over the next several months before she wakes up. Bedtime is a complete mess. Try getting an impatient two-year-old to stay quiet in a bed when there is still light outside her bedroom window. Sure, the clock says it is time for bed, but she knows better than that.
So I have a proposal for the entire world. How about we call a truce and each set our clocks 30 minutes ahead in the spring and call it even?

Lessons Learned: Traveling with a Family

Fri, 22 Aug 2008 14:02:49 -0500

On the first expedition trip as a family, I’ve learned a few things. All of these things have happened to us, honest! (You will notice this site is called Shared Expeditions, not Shared Vacations.)
1. No matter what rental car you select, you’ve chosen the wrong one for the trip. Someone will always tell you that you should have rented the other type of car that you didn’t choose.
2. Although my Loving Wife offers to help navigate and read the GPS, she will inevitably disagree with my driving and we will end up lost (twice!).

3. A crying toddler is usually hungry, tired, or both. Most likely both. The intensity of the cry will increase proportionally with your frustration level.
4. Playing the “license plate game” doesn’t really pass nearly enough time.
1. A hotel room can go from clean to messy in under 10 seconds with a family of five.

6. A child will invariably tell you they have to use the bathroom only after you’ve passed the last rest stop for 80 miles.
7. The attentiveness of a waiter in a restaurant increases with the fewer children you have to occupy at the table. Likewise, the speed of the cook increases if you are childless and not in a hurry. If you have a child tearing up the table, the food will take eons to prepare.
8. The clothes you want to wear are always at the bottom of the suitcase, requiring you to remove everything to find them.

9. Your non-removable GPS battery will die at the farthest possible point from your hotel, just when you decide it is time to head back.
10. The hotel you chose to stay at will be under construction, and the construction workers are eager to begin their jobs. This means the Bobcat will start right outside your window at 6:45 a.m., and the construction workers will decide that is the best time to start hammering.
11. It is not wise to have the TSA ask you to remove the shoes of a two-year-old in the airport to go through the metal detectors. There is no way in the world you are going to get the shoes back on your two-year old who thinks it is fun to just wear socks without a major fight.
12. No matter what types of restaurants you choose, if they offer pizza on the menu, your child will order pizza for dinner. Our children made it through three consecutive nights of pizza before we finally caught on.

Highpoint #4: Georgia

Wed, 20 Aug 2008 13:56:43 -0500

I have to start this highpointing experience off with a small tangent, if you don’t mind. Older Son was in our hotel room a day or so ago, found staring at a cup of water very intently. When we asked him what he was doing, he replied, “Marking orange juice.”
“Come again?” we thought.
He pointed to a carton of orange juice on the counter. ”See, it says ‘Orange juice from concentrate.’”
I seriously doubt anyone knows what goes on in the minds of our youth.
Back to our latest expedition - after a disasterous navigation error with our Garmin Nuvi GPS and a lack of concentration on my part (see, the stories do tie together!), we finally found the correct road to Georgia’s highest point, Brasstown Bald. Rising 4,784 feet above sea level, Brasstown Bald is not quite as high as it’s neighboring states. Still, this peak is very impressive and the view from the top is fantastic. We arrived at the summit around 1:00 p.m. (local time), and spent about a half hour walking around and observing the sites. We arrived only after making a long distance trek down a dirt road that probably hadn’t seen another car in the last 100 years. When we passed some scary looking run down houses with large warning signs, we eventually stopped the car, tried to turn around, and made it back onto the correct path to the real summit.

After completing four high points, we have quickly fallen into a routine once we reach the summit. First, I’ll take a photograph of the parking lot, to show others how crowded the summit is on an average day. Brasstown Bald’s parking lot is one of the largest we have seen thus far. The only odd thing was that the parking lot was nearly empty. It could easily hold over 100 cars, but had only 10 spots filled. It was also our first summit that charged us to park our car. Although the cost was $3 per car, we dropped in a $5 bill since this was the smallest we had at the time. The parking area appeared to have a food stand, which may have been closed when we arrived. We walked to the far end of the lot, and found a bus stop for a shuttle that transported those who didn’t want to climb to the summit. We chose the trail instead and started off up the mountain. If you walk, you save $2 on the shuttle fare.

The trail sign warned us that this was a steep climb, and included the text “6/10.” We assumed this must be the distance to the summit, and not a rating of how fun the trail was to hike. Looking back, it was probably 0.6 miles uphill on a paved pathway. This hike was similar to Tennessee’s hike up Clingman’s Dome. Daddy’s Little Girl wanted to walk the whole way, of course, and that slowed our pace to a crawl.
The good thing about walking with a toddler up a steep hill is that you don’t have to worry that your pace will be too fast. We made good time though and finished climbing in about 20 minutes. I did have to carry Daddy’s Little Girl a few times on my shoulders, but she surprised us by walking most of the way.

Once we reached the summit, we were immediately impressed with the size and construction of the summit building. Georgia had invested considerably more in their summit building than Tennessee, and even staffed the building with park rangers. They offered a movie theater to show a film about the four seasons up on top of the mountain, as well as a museum containing information about the local lands and wildlife. The boys were particularly impressed with a robotic man sitting in a chair dressed as an old-time inhabitant of the area. When a button was pressed, he spoke about stocking the land with deer and helping others in the area.

Our second ritual when we arrive at a highpoint is to find the geological marker and get a photograph. We had read before we arrived that this location’s marker was behind a locked wooden door at the base of the building. We spoke with a ranger who was very pleasant and agreed to unlock the door and show us the marker. It was a tight fit for the photograph, but she assured us that one of the previous highpointers had hung upside down from the stairs to get the perfect photograph. So we weren’t that weird after all.

On the observation deck, we were able to see a view similar to that of Clingman’s Dome. On a clear day, we supposedly could see other peaks that we had climbed, which were 70+ miles away. It wasn’t as clear as we had hoped, so we ended up with a few photographs of the area covered in smog. We signed the summit guest book, dropped in a link to this web site, and started back to the car.
The hike back down was much easier than going up, and took only about 5-10 minutes. The road up and down the mountain was typical, a winding curving road that taxes your car’s engine on the way up, and fries your brakes on the way down. I don’t recommend this type of driving for anyone that gets car sick. Lucky for us, none of our family experienced this the entire trip.

A quick discussion in the car on the way home led to the conclusion that this summit was the best summit we have experienced thus far. Not too crowded, and built up enough to give the place some respect. South Carolina could stand to learn something from this peak. As Oldest Son correctly pointed out on the way down the mountain, we have now completed 8% of all the highpoints in the United States. Watch out, here we come!

Highpoint #3: Tennessee

Tue, 19 Aug 2008 13:51:49 -0500

Some states know to to mark their highest point, and some don’t. Unlike South Carolina, Tennessee knows how to make a visitor feel welcome. On Tuesday, August 19, 2008 we successfully reached the highest point of Tennessee, know as Clingman’s Dome. It was 6,643 feet high, and made even higher by a concrete observation platform.
The drive up to the peak was one of the better drives we have taken thus far. The road was a fairly new road, with a smooth surface. The usual winding back and forth for tens of miles made everyone very eager to get to the top. When we finally arrived, it was a very, very popular tourist attraction. There were more cars here than in North Carolina’s Mt. Mitchell’s parking lot. I would guess at least 30 cars were parked here, with people of all types there to make the summit.

From the parking lot, there is a paved path up to the observation tower, which is about a half-mile in length. It is a fairly steep grade, making those people who aren’t as physically fit out of breath. They have several benches along the way, but we made it just fine. I had to carry Daddy’s Little Girl for about five minutes, but otherwise everyone made it just fine. I found it really funny to see people with hiking sticks, water bottles, backpacks, and hiking boots. Then there were elderly people, people who were obviously overweight, and even a person in front of me wearing flip-flops. It attracts all types.

When we finally reached the observation tower, it looked like a giant spiral sidewalk. It rose about 50 feet into the air, and took only a couple of minutes to walk up. The view from the top was fantastic. My only complaint was that the view was obscured by clouds or smog. One sign at the top told us the view was decreasing over time due to pollution from coal-fired power plants. The sign at the bottom near the parking lot told us the view was obscured because of the heavy amount of water being carried into the air. Either way, the view was magnificent, but could have been better if there were no clouds or smog.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t a sign at the top for a photographic moment. We looked around the base of the tower for a geological marker, but couldn’t find it. We later found it on our way down to the parking lot, near the start of the trail by a large rock outcrop.

I was very impressed by the time and effort that Tennessee put into marking this place. It was obvious that it attracted a lot of visitors each year, and people enjoyed being able to see the view. If other states are like this, I will be very impressed. South Carolina has a long way to go to match this high point.