Blisters. They’re bound to happen whether you overestimate how much to break in your new shoes, or if you’re walking or running for a long distance. Sure, you can walk a bit differently to avoid putting pressure on the tender area. Sure, you can take it easy for a few days and let your blisters heal. Sure, you can cover them with bandages. Sometimes though, it’s best just to change your shoes.
After walking over four miles on our first day on Isle Royale, blisters began to form. Though I didn’t have to change my shoes during my week in the wilderness, I had to change my attitude, towards my vision, trusting others, and my white cane.
I had never backpacked before and had only camped a few times. When two of my friends said, “Hey, let’s backpack Isle Royale on our week off of work!” I agreed with no hesitation. We reserved our spots on a ferry, wrote up an itinerary, and eagerly counted down the days until we’d set foot on a remote island in the middle of Lake Superior.
Isle Royale National Park includes the largest island of Lake Superior, Isle Royale, as well as about 450 smaller surrounding islands. The main island is about 15 miles away from the shores of Minnesota as well as Canada and is only accessible by boat or seaplane. Not only is Isle Royale a National Park, but it’s also federally designated as wilderness. No paved roads. No cellphone service. No electric campsites.
Suddenly, it was the day before we headed north towards the North Shore of Minneosta. Excitement, worry, gratitude, stress, wonder – I was feeling all of this and more.
I frantically packed in the hours leading up to our departure, tucking Frasier’s leash into the large backpack I was borrowing from another friend. Just in case, I packed my white cane too. I heaved the backpack onto my back, teetering under its weight. It’ll get lighter as we go, I reminded myself. As I rearranged items and continued practicing heaving the backpack onto my back, my mind raced. Can I trust my friends to guide me? Am I going to be too much of a burden? How will I go to the bathroom? What if I don’t filter my water correctly? What if…what if…
Hours later, we were on the road, heading 7 hours north.
After a night camping in Grand Portage, Minnesota, we boarded our early morning ferry on July 5th, 2021. We spent most of our 2-hour ride mesmerized by the vastness of Lake Superior. Slowly, Isle Royale grew closer and closer, and our excitement grew with every minute that passed as we approached the dock at Windigo. After disembarking, grabbing our bags, and buying our park pass and backcountry permit, it finally felt real. We were about to spend a week on the wild Isle Royale. With backpacks strapped, water bottles filled, and adrenaline racing, we hit the trail. Our first hike was a 4.3-mile trek to Huginnin Cove, where we planned to spend a night before heading inland to explore more of the island.
Weeks before our adventure, we had planned it out perfectly. First, we’d warm up with a short hike, followed by a long hike the next day and continue to alternate, with some rest days mixed in. In total, we’d travel about 40 miles in the seven days we spent there. We had planned accordingly with the food we packed, down to the calorie count we’d be eating each day. Our first hike was supposed to be a good warm-up, but for all of us, it was quite a reality check.
I knew the trails were going to be difficult, but I didn’t realize how difficult. Especially with the added challenge of carrying a 40-pound backpack while hiking. For our first mile or so, the trail was narrow with rocks and roots to maneuver around every so often. As we got further into the trail, however, travel got trickier. I explained to Livi and Ashley how I hiked with others in the past. They described the upcoming trail in as much detail as I thought necessary, sharing where and how I should step to avoid rocks, roots, and washed-out parts of the trail.
As we walked, we created a language to describe the variety of roots and rocks that were in the trail. When Ashley would say “boots!” I’d prepare to step over a big system of roots and when she said “oots!” I’d know little roots were just a few steps away. This system worked, but as the hike progressed and the three of us grew more tired, our quirky language grew less effective.
I tripped a total of six times during that hike and with each stumble, I grew more frustrated, more anxious. Thoughts raced through my head as we hiked, often distracting me from paying attention to what I could see, what was under my feet, and what my friends were saying to me. Thoughts of what our 10-mile days would be like, thoughts of Frasier and my week without him, thoughts of how my backpack felt heavier and heavier as we progressed down the trail, thoughts of if I should even be here, if this, if that.
With so much to process, I would often misstep because I didn’t register what someone had said in time or was lost in focusing on trying to decipher what I was seeing. I broke down in tears several times and was overwhelmed with so many thoughts and emotions. Thankfully, my two pals supported me, talked me through what I was feeling, allowing me to continue moving.
And so began the blisters. Figuratively and. Blisters I had to treat myself. I couldn’t keep going on like this with avoidance or with pretending all was well. I had to change my way of thinking and figure out what worked best for me.
I came to realize that I was relying on a system of communication that no longer worked for the vision I now had nor the environment we were in. I overstrained my eyes, my mind, my hearing. I didn’t feel comfortable. I knew I couldn’t trust my sight, yet I focused so much energy into trying to see what was ahead. Even though Ashley and Livi described the trail as best they could, I needed more information about my next steps, information their words couldn’t provide. I needed to adapt and try something new.
In my next blog post, I’ll be sharing how our Isle Royale trip changed for the better, after a night of relaxation and reflection at Huginnin Cove.
Photo Descriptions
Featured image: A view of the sunset over Huginnin Cove. Silhouettes of conifer trees can be seen to the left, and a rocky beach is seen on the bottom of the photo. White text over the rocky beach reads Backpacking Blind on isle Royale Part 1: The Blisters in handwritten font.
Photo 1: From left to right, Ashley, Livi, and Shannon smile happily in front of the ferry boat, Voyager II.
Photo 2: Shannon sits on a rocky beach looking out over the water as the sun sets.