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Bikepacking the Arrowhead

June 18-21, 2020

By Scott Haraldson

July 1^st, 2024

A plan is hatched

In December of 2019 I hatched a plan with a couple of coworkers to do a bikepacking trip in the Arrowhead region of Minnesota. Upon learning that a coworker had a cabin in Schroeder, Mn it made an ideal starting point. I jumped on Google Maps and Ride with GPS and began laying out a possible route using the bits and pieces I knew from previous trips covering fatbike and gravel events in the area.

With a rough draft in place I posted the route on Hansi Johnson's Facebook page, knowing him to be a wealth of information for the region. It was quickly pointed out to me that Peter Pascale had created a route for bikepacking.com called the Straddle & Paddle. With what I had already planned, along with ideas gleamed from the Straddle & Paddle route I finalized 95 percent of the trip. I used the next few months to scrutinize the route, adding points of interest, finding the potable water spots and other bits and pieces including small sections of off road trail where possible.

The route was to be completed in four days, the first day including the drive up to the area from the Twin Cities. Without many trustworthy locations for resupply I added in local restaurants to be used as destinations for the end of each day, thus allowing us to only account for breakfast, lunch and snacks in our packs.

The original trip was to be in mid May, colder temps but fewer mosquitoes right? When the COVID-19 pandemic set in we held out hope that things would take a turn for the better but by the end of April the writing was on the wall for the trip, it would have to wait, instead pushing the trip out to late June. Warmer temps, many many more mosquitoes.

The adventure begins

With the change in dates our friend's cabin was no longer an option so we opted for an overnight parking location located near the Superior Hiking Trail. Pulling the bikes off the vehicles everyone was in good spirits with an eagerness to get the ride started. We grabbed a single quick group photo, threw a leg over our bikes and began turning the first of many pedal revolutions.

Cramer Tunnel

Just after World War I Cramer, Minnesota was a sizable settlement with a post office, general store, hotel, school, and seventeen cabins but over the many years to follow the brush and forest have removed almost all traces of what was once a substantial logging community. Just out side town sits the Cramer railroad tunnel. Opened in 1957 when the Ling-Temco-Vought company blasted an 1800 foot tunnel to connect the Hoyt Lakes taconite plant and its ore dock at Taconite Harbor on Lake Superior. The tunnel remained in constant operation up until 2001, when LTV Steel declared bankruptcy.

Arriving at the tunnel 7.5 miles into our journey it made for a great place to make sure our gear was secure, stretch the legs and grab a drink of water. With temperatures already in the 80s the cold air literally rolls out of the mouth of the tunnel. Standing at the entrance you can feel the cold air on your skin as you peer down the long track, a small flicker of light coming from the far end. Venturing into the tunnel water drips from the ceiling, the light fades quickly, only glinting off the metal tracks.

I took a few portraits and a group shot, we did some exploring and then jumped back on the bikes to push on.

My trusty Salsa Cutthroat was up for the challenge

Brian's ECR with 3 inch tires rolled extremely fast

Trestle Inn

In 1980, during a snowmobile adventure, Lee Schumacher and his son Kurt came across an abandoned railroad trestle deep in the Superior National Forest. The Hoist Creek trestle bridge was constructed from Douglas Fir timbers measuring 8" x 16" x 33 ft long and weighing 1,950 pounds a piece. It saw its last train in the 1920’s and with permission of the Forest Service, the Schumachers disassembled the trestle beams one at a time dragging them to their current location using Lee’s 1948 Willys Jeep. Construction began in 1983 and the Schumachers transformed the trestle beams into a restaurant and saloon for snowmobilers. The old timbers give the Trestle a unique feel and character that you can sense from the moment you step in the front door.

We arrived at the Trestle Inn, just six miles from the tunnel, hungry and ready to eat. We were greeted on the porch by a couple of car travelers and a local visitor from the area. The restaurant staff was friendly, masked up and ready to take our orders at their outdoor picnic tables. We quickly learned the Sysco food truck was running a few days behind so the 1/3 pound hamburger patties were off the menu, 1/2 pound patty it is! The burger came with a side of fries which I washed down with two ice cold Castle Danger Cream Ales from their tap lines.

We picked up a few extra cans of beer for later that night, paid our tab and set on down the road to find our camp spot.

Hogback Lake

The Hogback Lake Area has a rustic campground with 3 sites accessible from the road, a 5 mile trail system passing 6 lakes and 5 backcountry campsites along the trail. Our original destination was a backcountry site on Hogback Lake but it was occupied so we pushed on to the much smaller Steer Lake. The single backcountry campsite is small and primitive but the lake is completely yours to enjoy by yourself.

After doing a strenuous hike a bike, over many a fallen tree I was sweating profusely upon getting to camp, being attacked relentlessly by mosquitoes and generally feeling pretty miserable in the moment. While the others began to setup their tents I quickly stripped myself of my clothes and launched myself into the water much like Hansi did in the short film Touching the Sun. The cold water rejuvenated me, instantly changing my mood. I floated on my back, every part of me under water except for my eyes and nose. I looked skyward, recognizing how lucky I am to be alive and experiencing that moment.

It was then I noticed there were two regulars already living on the lake, two Ospreys had made their nest on top of a tall pine that had broken off about a 1/4 of the way from the top. The birds called out making me aware of their presence before settling in to a distant tree to watch this newcomer swim lazily in their lake.

Once camp was established we cracked our beers, opened a flask of Jameson and settled in to watch the still waters of the lake. Thunder rumbled in the distance, getting ever closer until drops of water started to fall forcing us into our tents for the night. The thunderstorm pushed into the night, the crack of lighting lit up the inside of my tent, counting the seconds, 1,2,3,4,5 booom! At last my eyes grew tired and I drifted off to sleep.

When you options are Bud or Bud Lite for to go beers.

The longest day

Breaking camp early, our longest day with 52 miles to travel laid ahead of us. Two miles further than planned due to camping at the different backcountry site. We filtered lake water, made coffee, ate oatmeal, topped off our water bottles and before long we were pedaling and pushing our way out of the dense forest and out onto the gravel road. The destination for the night was Skyport Lodge and Raven Rock Grill on Devil's Track Lake.

Soak in the beauty

With an early start in the day we had plenty of time to stop and soak in the beauty that is the Arrowhead region. Lunch was had at the edge of the Cascade river, taking time to soak our feet and enjoy a bit of rest. Our next water break found us again on the Cascade this time at an unnamed falls that tumbled over black rocks just a short hike from the road. The same location we learned contained the last remnants of the trestle bridge that formed the Trestle Inn.

Pilings from the bridge that created the Trestle Inn

The kindness of strangers

After a fairly grueling, lower back pounding, 2 miles of rugged up and down double track we reached our intended destination, Devil Track Lake campground. Knowing ahead of time that the US Forest Service had not opened all of its campgrounds we were expecting it to be closed and would need to figure out our camping location for the night.

With our bellies rumbling and the Skyport Lodge Raven Rock Grill just a couple miles away we pedaled on. Arriving at the Lodge we parked our bikes in the backyard which was laid out with numerous picnic tables where other small groups of families were enjoying food and drinks.

We popped on our masks and went in to inquire about other areas to camp. After finding out I graduated high school with the owner (big graduating class, both of us didn't recall each other) we learned of an abandoned quarry five miles further on our route that we could camp at. Not exactly looking forward to having to pedal further we went to give Brian, who was watching the bikes, the news. Low and behold while we were gone Brian had started up a conversation with two locals, one a county worker and the other the executive director of visitcookcounty.com. Both were very interested in our bike setups and how they might be able to encourage more cyclists to visit the area. Upon learning of our camping predicament they offered up a lakeside location complete with what would become our own private dock for the night.

Our trip continued to deliver as we downed another fantastic meal, grabbed an extra tall boy each and ventured off to setup camp and take in a spectacular sunset that was painting the sky in hues of pink, blue and purple.

Art Brown; You can't get much better than this

There was no shortage of bugs for this one to eat, continuing to pop up out of the water near the dock. I tried my best to get a photo.

Big climbs, big rewards

Perhaps I subconsciously didn't pay close attention to the elevation gained each day when planning the route. Instead I was much more fascinated by scouring the area for gravel roads, finding ones that went by lakes, over streams, connecting me to the next destination.

So when we started the day climbing it came as a bit of a shock to all that it just never seemed to stop going up. For those who have taken part in the Le Grand Du Nord gravel event you know it has some pretty great climbs. While shooting the event for Salsa Cycle's Chase the Chaise campaign I identified one incredibly beautiful area on the course that I knew I had to incorporate. What I didn't really factor in was that I drove that section in a van and the hills didn't seem as big or steep. Regardless my friends and I put in the work and turned the pedals, which turned the cranks, which moved the chain, which turned the wheels and up and over all the top we went. The payoff? An equally long and absolutely exhilarating downhill.

Wunderbar & Glampground

Located in Grand Marais, the Wunderbar is your "destination family style roadhouse featuring a full food & bar, live music, game room, patio and a glampground"....which consists of five vintage campers and two lotus belle tents.

I first discovered this magical little place while covering Ben Weaver and Jay Petervary as they road fat bikes right alongside sled dog teams during John Beargrease race in 2019. My friend Mike Riemer and I were looking for a place to eat and settled on this spot because it had an interesting vibe and solid reviews. What we walked into that night in January, with the temps going down to negative forty degrees was an open mic night that made you feel like you were alongside family, and in fact many in attendance were grandparents right down to their grandchildren.

Fast forward to our trip and Grand Marais was our destination for the night. The Wunderbar and Glampground was no longer accepting reservations online and I suspected they hadn't re-opened due to the ongoing pandemic. None the less I convinced my three travel partners that we should at least check it out before heading down to the municipal campground that we knew was open.

What we stumbled into was a big smoker belching out smoke and a number of people socially distancing at the small trailers in the parking lot. I asked the first person I spotted wearing a Wundebar tie-dyed shirt if they were accepting campers. He said he wasn't sure if they were and pointed me to Steve the owner. Steve, hearing what we were asking, walked up with a big smile on his face and informed us that today was actually the last day the Wunderbar would be open and that he couldn't take our money. What he could do is offer us a spot in his campground, free of charge, as his guests and offered to join him, his wife and co-owner Teri, their extended family, friends, and community supporters with all the free food and beer we could eat and drink.

How can you say no to that kind of gesture? We ended up being the first and last campers to use their new tent spots that they had constructed at the end of the season last year before the snow came. These fun little spots were like venturing into a Tolkien novel, down short pea gravel path in the woods, lined with empty tiki torches, ending at two very secluded camping locations. I can only imagine what it would have looked like if it had all the torches lit, a sight for sure.

We unpacked our gear, setup tents and ventured back to the main lot where we were filled up on smoked chicken, bratwurst, hamburgers, baked beans, potato and pasta salads. Washing it down with a never ending supply of craft beer from pitchers that were dutifully refilled by Gnomey the kind soul we first met wearing the tie dyed shirt when we arrived.

As the sun set local musicians Joe Paulik and Kenna Rose entertained the small group of us and before long I was feeling the onset of a serious food and drink coma so I wandered off to the campsite and was asleep in no time.

Where does the lake end and the sky begin?

Our final day of the trip we slept in an hour later than we had all days previously, no doubt the effects of all you can eat food and beer. That said I woke surprisingly with a clear head and ready to tackle the final day. Somehow I had gotten it in my head that the final day was to be a relaxing one, with our route finishing on the bike path along Highway 61. The reality being it was actually three miles longer than I thought and had the most climbing of any of our days!

As we pedaled away from the Wunderbar you could tell that, though there was sadness of the Wunderbar closing, the people there were glad to celebrate the good times it provided as evident during the handful of speeches the night before and the hoots and hollers of praise from the group.

Grinding out the climbs

We exited Grand Marais with a straight as an arrow climb up and out of the valley. The view behind us was one where it is hard to distinguish where the big lake ends and the sky begins. If you have never experienced this phenomenon it is something to behold, you can stare at the lake trying to determine where the horizon line is. We continued to grind it out, hill after hill. We stopped at a spot called the hidden falls. I had noted this spot on our route and viewing it from a satellite image it appears to be right off the road, an easy trek to dunk our heads in the water. What it turned out to be was a 200-300 feet drop into the bottom of a gorge, well out of reach. None the less we stopped and took in its beauty from afar before beginning yet another climb.

We zigged and zagged our way through backcountry forest roads, riding by lakes, pine forests, birch groves before finally reaching a plateau that led us onto a privately maintained road and mountain bike trail. The trail featured just enough terrain to make me glad I had 2 inch tires with numerous stream and mud bog crossings. Dropping down to the Poplar river valley we crossed a wooden bridge before ascending up to the Lutsen ski area, our destination for our final meal of the trip.

All good things must come to a pause

As we ate our last meal on the back patio of Papa Charlie's Saloon and Eatery we picked up enough cell signal to determine a rainstorm was coming. We decided our best bet was to try and get down to the lake and ride out of it. Maybe if we had gotten the tab just a few minutes earlier we would have made it to the bottom but that was not the case. My face took a beating as I sped down the hill to Highway 61, the rain pelting and stinging my cheeks.

The rain eased as we headed south on the Gitche Gumee bike trail towards Schroeder. So close to the finish but knowing that we had parked much much higher on the hill. Four miles of straight up climbing higher.

It was a grind but it was a good kind of grind, the last of the grinds. 176 miles of riding, 18 hours in the saddle and 9,500 feet of climbing. I was tired, wet, mosquito bit but smiling. As I put my bike on the car my mind drifted back to floating in the lake at the end of day one.

So incredibly thankful to be able to take part in this trip, to see nature up close, to listen to the rain fall on the tent, swapping stories with my fellow travelers, enjoying a few creature comforts like an ice cold beer to finish the day, to see the birds soar over head, to see the sun set.