October 14, 2015 The walk to Awausee.
The bear was a good
sign. Ward and I saw the dark shape disappear into the trees just as we turned
off Highway 17 North to pull onto the parking lot for the Awausee Trail. Should
we go any further? The timidity and no further sighting of the black bruin
helped us decide that indeed it would be OK to attempt the hike to Awausee’s
first look out onto the Agawa Valley.
Mind you, the thought
of my left-over-Thanksgiving turkey sandwich in my pack gave me a nanosecond of
hesitation. But I did have my Fox 40 whistle to pummel his eardrums if need be;
so off we went.
The beginning of the
trail follows an old logging road. Sunlight streamed through the yellow- leafed
maples giving everything a golden glow. Soon we left the road/trail and began
the climb. Thick flat rocks and gnarled tree roots made perfect steps. A dry
creek bed with its bare boulders and wide shoulders hugs the trail, a reminder
of the power of seasonal shifts. As the ascent increased, the faint splashes
from another creek echoed through the forest. My knees talked to me as we got
closer and closer to the top. However, I soon met the flatter, smoother, softer
walkway of auburn pine needles and rusty coloured cedar leaves (needles?). One
more little incline, then a decline and there we were at the first lookout.
The 180 degree, half-a-circle-wide,
expansive view was so beautiful it was ridiculous. To my right, silver light shone
over Lake Superior. To my left, crimson heads of hunched bulbous cliffs, left
over from glaciers, watched over this most ancient of lands. The red and gold
hills were magnificent and each of the million trees seemed to be distinct, to have
its own say. The sound of rustling dry leaves rose up from the valley floor. Breaks
in the tree line marked the path of the Agawa River. When sunlight broke
through the rolling grey clouds, the far hills had the texture of a colourful,
woolen, handmade, hooked rug.
We ate our sandwiches and
the low scudding clouds thickened. Rested, refreshed, renewed we headed back
down and got to the truck just as rain began to sprinkle the windshield. Feeling
lucky and grateful at the same time, I said thanks... for the trail and for that
very interesting, respectful bear.