A stunning, overlooked nature trail and bit of raw, Lake Superior North Shore coast that gets…read moreoverlooked in the hustle and bustle of travel between grander and better-known natural attractions. Strictly speaking, the trail is about a 25 minute walk, but one where lingering longer reaps great rewards. Not only is the relatively flat trail a boon for small children, and frail adults with some accessibility issues (though I hasten to add that this path is NOT wheelchair accessible, and is slippery in wet weather), it provides interpretive signage, as well as several stops along rocky outcrops to take in the vistas.
Apparently, some SNA's (scientific and natural areas) are run and administered by the Minnesota DNR, and others by proxy organizations. It seems that Sugarloaf Cove is being administered by a non-profit group dedicated to preserving it. They have started charging an entrance fee, which is new since the first several times I was there, so when we arrived, like most other modern Americans I had no cash on hand, and damned if I was going to turn the car around and burn 45 minutes and another $10 in gas just to pay the fee. It's a pity that donations aren't encouraged rather than admissions demanded, and that by the time many organizations get around to charging money to enter places that were once traditionally free, they aren't very well publicized or set up to take multiple forms of payment. Oh well, it's a minor quibble, and not one with the extraordinary place itself.
Along with a walk through the woods where, in Autumn you'll find changing leaf colors and a vast array of mycological splendor, you will also find Sugarloaf Point, a jutting headland so-named because to 19th century merchants, it resembled the bulk "loaves" that sugar was once sold as. Whatever the meaning, it's a pretty name that far better suits the place than naming it after the wealthiest donor, as so many other places have done.
Along bare, rocky outcrops we sat on some of the oldest rocks on Earth and had a picnic lunch of beer, rye crisp, cheese, and bread. Chickdees flitted around, waves crashed, sun played on the point. Jenn did faux yoga poses. On the point itself we found a small harbor, stony beach, and a throng of older adults excitedly hunting for agates. We joined them but realized the sun would be gone all too soon, so we pressed on to the end of the point, where we looked out for whales (nests of the Lake Superior Sea Cow have been sighted nearby, as well as Tanner's Saltless Porpoise). We found iron mooring rings still attached to the rocks, orange and oxidized. We slipped out hands through them and pretended to curse the fates, much as many fettered heroes of Greek myths once did. Thankfully, no cows came to peck out our livers or eyeballs, and a pleasant experience was attained.
