The rocks on the shoreline keep getting bigger and bigger until it is impossible to climb over them and you can't progress any further. Overhead, however, there is a path that once you manage to hoist yourself up, leads to
a small but startling sanctuary of trees. Many of the trees are covered in old man's beard. Moss abounds and the ground is spongy from years of fallen and decayed matter. The trees crowd the top of the rock's flat head; from the sky it would look like a greenish gray cap. The air inside the forest is breathtaking; each breath you take is cleansing, clarifying, invigorating. The sheer mass of lichens bear witness to the purity of the air in this unspoilt niche.
"Look around the big cities of the world. What do you see? Not very many lichens, that’s for sure. Very few lichens can survive near factories, next to highways, and other sources of pollution."
On the other side of the rock cap, the rock suddenly levels out and reaches out to the water.
There are steps on the eastern edge of the smooth rock
and where rock meets water, a merganser pariskunta [couple] head out for one last swim.
On our way back down the highway, we pass numerous 'watch for deer' signs. Highway 61 passes right through deer territory and you never want to be on this highway at night. Ever. Even during the day, deer are constantly crossing the highway. Many, many deer are killed by cars on this highway.
So we make sure to get back on the Canadian side
before dark.
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