Ordinarily we would be cruising down the Portage past Hancock at this time, but instead, the 20 (minus Kevin) of us are seated in the forward lounge of the Ranger III, which is still at the Park Service dock.

It's a good thing. We have high winds (at least 33 mph) and heavy seas (at least 10-to- 12-foot waves) on the big lake, so we will wait until noon to depart. The crew tells us this is the first time in at least 20 years that this boat has been delayed. Aren't we special?

Everyone was so quiet and subdued when we first gathered together yesterday morning in the ROTC Building on campus. That changed as the day went by. This looks like a very good group, and I'm particularly impressed with my personal group. This should be an excellent experience for all.

So we're going to do a Harbor Run this afternoon, a few will camp, others will go to the dorm, some of us home. It's disappointing not to get out to the island today, but we'll dock by 1:00 pm tomorrow, which isn't bad.

We left the Ranger III and reconvened at Hancock Beach to enjoy our pasty lunch and plan the rest of our day. It was sunny and warm, and the wind continued to wail, so we were rather relieved not to be out on the big lake.

Car pools were formed, and the caravan headed toward Lake Linden and Hungarian Falls. Jeffrey offered seats in his van to almost everyone, but Nate, Peggy, and I snagged them. Eric took the lounge seat in the back of the van.

The caravan didn't hold together exceedingly well, but we all managed to get to the head of the trail. Kevin Anderson was our guide, since this was his home turf, and we wound our way up the hill, stopping at each and every bit of falls. It was gorgeous, and we got in a healthy amount of hiking and some great views.

We took the easy road back down - the snowmobile trail - and then we loaded into the vehicles and headed to our next rendezvous site, the Streetcar Station in Ahmeek. Then it was time out for ice cream, a nice treat on a warm, sunny afternoon.

The next stop was the Sand Hills Light, and folks enjoyed checking out the Victorian bed-and-breakfast, as well as the rocks and biotic community along the shore - not to mention the crashing waves.

So we went on to Great Sand Bay, where everyone piled out and slid down the sandy hill to the lake's edge. The rollers were impressive, and more than one or two of us were swamped while picking through the wet stones on the beach.

No Keweenaw tour would be complete without a visit to the Eagle Harbor Lighthouse, so we included that in our itinerary as well. There was plenty to see from the observation deck, out on the rocks, and on the grounds. (All afternoon I enjoyed how interested everyone was in everything from the geology to the plant life to the human history to the lichens on the rock. It seems we have a very observant, inquisitive group.)

And then...the grand finale, a drive up to the top of Brockway Mountain. Everyone was duly impressed with the view, although we were surprised that, although it surely was windy, we weren't blown over the side. With that under consideration, we took a group shot next to the edge. Great setting.

After a stop at the Copper Harbor overlook, some folks decided to head back to campus, while the rest of us decided to enjoy dinner at the tip of the Keweenaw. A few of us opted for a quiet, elegant meal at the Harbor Haus (in our hiking boots, of course!), but the majority went for sandwiches and beer at the Mariner. We all thoroughly enjoyed our meals.

The Portage was glassy and still, and there was just enough cloud cover to give the sky an intense, cobalt blue color. Renegade rays of the morning sun seeped through here and there, and we had a beautiful trip down the waterway, highlighted by a look at the eagle's nest on Lily Pond, with one parent out on a limb and two youngsters perched on the nest.

And we've enjoyed a lovely video on Isle Royale (Wow! I had photo credits at the end!!) and Mary did a great program that included moose-wolf research and tips on enjoying the island wildlife. Nice job, Mary! The artifacts she passed around were a huge hit - especially the moose skull, antler, and the wolf hide. The island has been visible for quite some time now. I think it's about time to go outside and enjoy the approach.

I am sitting near the dock on a warm mound of basalt at my favorite campground, Moskey Basin. Tim, Denise, and Kevin are here, as well. Everyone feels good. We just returned from an after-dinner hike to Lake Ritchie and back. The trail was the muddiest I've ever seen it, but the wildflowers were incredibly abundant.

We saw a few moose tracks (and lots of moose scat) en route, but no moose. There were a bittern and a pair of ducks flying by, and a mother duck and her brood, however. On the hike back we saw a painted turtle who was foolishly burying her eggs next to the trail. We couldn't figure out where in the world she had come from.

Captain Hanrahan landed us at Mott Island exactly when he said he would, and we disembarked for the 40 minutes or so it took to unload and load. Good grief! Everyone was there: Rolf Peterson, Les Mattson, all the rangers I recognize, probably everyone on Mott Island.

When we pulled in to Rock Harbor we got the good news that the water taxi would be available to move all 20 of us right away. The bad news was that Captain Ron Gedda was nowhere to be found. I helped the deck hand load the packs while he was located. Turned out he was on Mott Island doing some maintenance stuff. Well, they got him to us and Captain Ron did not disappoint. He had even a wider selection of tales than usual to share with us, and he took us down a different route - trough Loralei Lane. That was interesting. He slowed down to give us good photo ops, even.

We unloaded and had camp set before Mary got to us to say good-bye. What a proficient group! It was about 5:00 by then, so we decided to fire up the stoves and cook some dinner before taking our hike. (Are we good or what? Four stoves, three water pumps…life is good!)

Well, the sky didn't provide for much star gazing - except for Venus and Vega - so the last of us returned to camp at 11:00 p.m. The snoring started shortly thereafter, so I inserted my first pair of earplugs and did not hear the wolves howl, although Deb, Denise, and Sharon did. What a thrill!

The rain started around 3:00 a.m., and it was steady. I woke up (as if I'd ever really been asleep, anyway) at 5:00, and it was still quite dark. At 6:00 it was quite light, but still raining, so I didn't bother getting up and starting to dress and organize until 6:30.

It was still raining at 7:00 when Kevin and I started to boil water for breakfast. One by one the rest of our comrades emerged from their wet cocoons. Hot chocolate and oatmeal tasted pretty good; some folks jazzed theirs up with granola or cocoa.

Kevin decided to do the Greenstone Ridge loop, so he took off. Sharon and Denise volunteered to stay with the packs on the dock until the Sandy came for them, so the rest of us set out. Jeff and Nate opted for “accelerated meandering,” or some such thing, so they went first. Tim, Dennis, Deb, Peg, and I formed the middle pack, and Sharon and

It continued to rain lightly for most of the hike, so we had to take our time on the slippery rocks, and circumventing the rivers and ponds that had formed along the trail slowed us down, as well. I tried to maintain a modest pace, but I did hear Dennis mutter something about “death march.” We stopped several times to check out the flora and fauna, the streams, to adjust clothes, to take a break. The wildflowers, which included wild rose, columbine, rock harlequin, bunchberry, and yellow lady slipper, were spectacular.

The sun came out to dry out our wet gear, and we took our sweet time having lunch. (Everyone seemed to like the hummus and tabouli I mixed up.) Before long, Sharon and Denise arrived, and Denise was excited about all they had seen - especially large and small moose tracks that had been laid down over ours and wolf scat.

It is an absolutely stunning morning. There is not a cloud in the deep blue sky, and it's warm enough for some folks to don shorts. Six of us stayed at camp to dry out gear and catch up on our journals, while the other four of our group headed up the Daisy Farm Trail to seek out yellow lady slipper, bogs with pitcher plants, beaver ponds, and moose.

Speaking of moose, Tim, Sharon, and I were sitting around the picnic table having breakfast at about 7:15 when Sharon exclaimed, “It's a moose! It's a moose! It's a moose!” And sure enough, a big cow was passing through the group campground. My back was to the trail, so I only heard it, but Tim and Sharon got a good look. We headed off down the trail, with Peggy in hot pursuit, but it was on a mission, and we lost it. (That did get a few more sleepy heads out of the tents, though.) Not long after that, Ransom, the Daisy Farm robber baron, made his foxy appearance.

It got pretty chilly on the dock, so most folks were back at camp before the end of the afternoon. We started cooking up dinner around 5:00 (a well-coordinated group effort, I must say - as most of our efforts have been). We've got designated cooks, designated water filterers, and everyone helps clean up. There are no sluggards on this team. (And I'm so impressed with how generous everyone is in offering the food out of their packs to everyone else, even to the point of secretly placing it in another needy soul's tent.)

We were making predictions as to whether or not Kevin would make it back to camp before we went out with Candy when he arrived on the scene at about 5:30. He was in fine form and fairly ravenous. Had to cook up more food for the water brigade since he ate their rations before they got back from the dock.

It took us a little less than two hours to hike a little less than two miles, but the trail was wet and we stopped often to learn from Candy. She shared bird calls, island history, the state of the moose and wolf populations, her own perspectives. “It upsets me when Rolf refers to Isle Royale as a laboratory. I would rather think of Isle Royale as a circus, and we're the audience.” Fascinating. She pointed out a piliated woodpecker nest, and there were two youngsters peeping out.

We got to Mt. Ojibway just a little after 9:00 and went directly up the fire tower. It was calm and clear, and Candy said it was very unusual to have such a perfect night. I told the group that the view from Ojibway would put the view from Brockway Mountain to shame, but they didn't believe me. Now they believe me. What incredible scenes! It's always a surprise to realize how close the Sleeping Giant and Thunder Bay are. Fog was oozing across the lake, but the island itself was crystal clear. I think everyone was reluctant to leave that vantage point - and the fascinating things Candy had to share.

When we finally did leave the Greenstone Ridge, the hike down took only about 40 minutes, and it was still quite light when we got back to our camp. Stoking up a stove for making hot chocolate seemed the thing to do, and the guys broke open their one bottle of Bud Light. Everyone was having a good ol' time until about 11:00,when the water brigade headed toward the dock and others headed for their tents.

Here we all are, sitting on the shoreline outside of the Isle Royale Lighthouse. Many of us climbed the 63 steps to the top of the light tower, and it was steamy up there, but nice and cool back down in the lighthouse museum. Too bad the doorknob was broken so we were trapped inside. No matter; Kevin went out a window, and with him on the outside and me on the inside, we got it open.

The first activity was to pair up and share for five minutes or so with someone from the other group. Mary and I paired up, and it sounds like both groups had a profound experience, as well as a personality, as was the case last year (that was really evident when we got together on the Sandy today - as a matter of fact, someone from the “other” group made that very comment to me).

Now everyone is sharing current thoughts on the teaching unit each will develop. Lots of good ideas, and it's interesting to hear how those ideas have been modified by the Isle Royale experience.

We were all down at the Daisy Farm dock by 11:30 as scheduled, waiting for the Sandy to reunite us with Group 1 and take us over to the Edisen Fishery. Dennis and Nate decided it was finally time for the Polar Bear Challenge, donned their trunks, and took the plunge. Dennis walked in, but Nate jumped off the dock and came up out of the water before I could aim my camera. Miraculous.

They were drying off when the boat pulled up, and we were across the harbor in no time. Les Mattson was waiting for us, and we spent the better part of an hour with him, hearing much about the life of a fisherman and fishing Isle Royale. He had a lot of “A Number One” things to stress. He was just charming. He also showed us the catch of the day, which was destined to become our dinner later that evening.

Then it was off through the woods to the research station, where Rolf Peterson was waiting for us. He did a thorough job of sharing his work with us using the visual aides at hand. (I always find him so fascinating, as did our entire group.) Candy returned from her bird inventory trip and joined Rolf in explaining the wolf-moose studies and fielding questions. (Wish I had thought to take notes; I'll have to ask Mary for a photocopy of hers. The information is invaluable.) What a terrific team the Petersons make!

We were privileged to see their home, their work, the collection of bones that have been recovered, and the new “yert” that serves as an on-site lab. I'm particularly fond of the collection of antlered bull moose skulls in the backyard.

The 20 of us piled into the dining room, and they were happy to accommodate us, it seemed. Looked like everyone thoroughly enjoyed their lake trout or steak, and many of us chose the unexpected treat of a cold Moosehead (at our own expense, of course). It's a special experience to eat at the lodge, and I very much appreciated the opportunity.

As soon as we finished we dashed to the group sites to set up camp, which happened quickly. And although the evening was slipping away, we all were determined to hike the Stoll Trail to Scoville Point. I believe it was 9:00 p.m. when we set out, after a brief stop at the high-tech facilities near the lodge.

Jeff and Nate took off in front at a fast pace, and I tried to keep up a pretty brisk pace behind them. It was easy going for most of the first mile, and we all were grateful for a trail less muddy.

It was 9:45 when we reached the second junction and the last .6 mile out to the point. No reason to turn back now! The most impressive geology and views are on that last leg. When we climbed up the basalt to the point itself, we could see Jeff and Nate at the very end. We explored a bit, took a group photo at the commemorative marker, and turned back. Tim and Jeff took off ahead, and Nate, Peg, Dennis and I left a bit later. It was 10:10 and getting dim. I was anxious to get past the rocky portion of the trail while we still had some decent ambient light.

On our return trip we met Denise, who claimed Deb was somewhere in the bushes, and we believed her. A little further we met Mary and her group, and they were also determined to go all the way to Scoville Point.

It was quite dark as we hiked along Tobin Harbor, but reflected light from the water helped illuminate our way. We got back to Rock Harbor at 11:00 (which means we were really movin') and it was DARK. After a rest stop, Peg and I figured it was time to break out her flashlight.

When we got back to camp, everyone was there but Denise and Deb. We fired up the stove and drank hot chocolate while Dennis strung moose droppings into a fetching necklace (meant as a gift to Mary, whom he had dubbed the Island Goddess Princess sometime earlier in the trip).

It was midnight and past time to turn in, so I did. I heard sounds at the other group site and asked Kevin if he would go over and check to make sure Deb and Denise had been seen and were en route. Well, as luck would have it, they were coming up the trail just then, so he turned off his head lamp and just stood there. When Deb encountered him, she screamed. (Wonder how many people's sleep that disrupted!) Anyway, everyone was back, safe and sound, happy they'd taken the late night hike. (I have NEVER been out hiking past dark on the island before - I'm usually in my tent by 10:30; I don't even bother bringing a flashlight with me.)

Everyone was stirring by 6:00 a.m. It was cold and clear and relatively dry, and the loons were still calling, as they had all night. Kevin beat me out of his tent and had the stove going and a pot of hot water on simmer. Before long everyone was out and gathered around the table with the last of the coffee, cocoa, oatmeal, and granola. And by just a bit before 7:00 the talking and laughing had reached an unacceptable volume. (I don't know why I didn't exercise my finely-honed shushing skills, but for some reason I shirked that duty.) Mary arrived and informed us that the group could be heard loud and clear on the Tobin Harbor dock. Well, everyone was embarrassed and things instantly quieted to a hush. Folks transitioned back to expeditiously taking care of the duties at hand, and camp was broken and packed up by 7:30 - except for Kevin, who was going to wait until the Ranger pulled out before he headed out on the continuation of his personal Isle Royale adventure.

I dropped my pack and enjoyed a walk around the harbor to the America dock to enjoy the view from a different vantage point. Not long after that I settled down on a sunny bench near the Ranger III to begin this entry, then we boarded the boat, then a few of us briefly disembarked to present Kevin with a useful gift for his sojourn: a sign that said, “Will work for food.” We got underway at 9:00, stopped at Mott, then left Mott at 10:00.

I was enjoying sitting out back with Eric for the beginning of the voyage, as well as chatting with several of the Group 1 folks. There seemed to be a lot of pleasant conversation going on among all 20 of the ESMIS-ites, as well as with some of the other passengers.

The required paperwork has been completed, and in the midst of that was some pleasant conversation and Dennis' presentation of the moose dropping necklace to Mary. And then, of course, came the photo op.

“A Howling in Our National Parks,” is playing in the main lounge, but I'm out on deck. The lake is just glassy, the air is not exceptionally cool, the sky is still clear, and we are closing in on the breakwaters. Captain Hanrahan just finished making his announcements, and we should be docking at about 3:10.

It certainly has been a pleasant ride home, and I've been impressed with how diligently all have been working on their lesson plans and course evaluations. I've also enjoyed observing all the congenial interactions that have been occurring among the members of both groups and the rest of the passengers.

It was time to reacquaint myself with my familiar trails, so before the morning got any steamier, the dog and I headed out across the fields and down toward our cedar swamp. A partridge (ruffed grouse, to be technically correct) flew so close to my knees that I could have plucked out a tail feather, and two more flew past before I turned around and headed for my neighbor's cedar swamp. There were two fresh piles of coyote scat down near the creek, and when we retraced our steps, we found fresh deer tracks cut into our tracks.

I was thinking about the last few days and what an excellent experience it was. As I picked daisies and orange hawkweed for the wildflower bouquet I like to keep on the kitchen table, I thought that this is why I choose to live my life here where the wild things are, within reach of the island wilderness we just had the privilege of visiting.

I'm certain we all realize that we were afforded a rare opportunity. Isle Royale always has profound gifts for anyone given the chance to experience her, but there is something quite unique about bringing a group of dedicated teachers together, strangers to each other, to live so intimately and share so extensively. The program that was planned for us was outstanding, but there was much to be gained from enjoying and appreciating each other, as well.