My Darling B was surprised to learn there are outhouses in the wilderness areas of Isle Royale.

If you have to answer the call of nature while you’re on the trail, you’re allowed to poop in a cathole. I didn’t have to on this trip, and I’m pretty happy about that, to be honest. I’ve done it in the past and it’s not a wilderness experience I want to have very often, if at all.

In camp you’re supposed to use the toilets. There are just too many people visiting the campgrounds every year to let them poop in such a densely-used space. Most of the outhouses are pretty basic structures. Well-made, but no frills at all. At Lane Cove and at West Chickenbone, the doors didn’t have locks, just a polite request written on the outside of the door to please knock.

But the outhouses in Moskey Basin were primo! The doors had locks! The interior walls were painted! There were coat hooks! Each one had a small broom so you could sweep it out! The graffiti in one of them read, “Four stars! Will poop here again!”

Moskey Basin was my back-up plan. I had wanted to visit Chippewa Harbor, a campground on the south shore of the island that gets rave reviews from everyone who’s been there, and as I was packing up in the morning I was thinking that getting there was still doable, but just barely.

The hike to Chippewa Harbor from West Chickenbone was 7.9 miles. I could have made myself do that, but the next day I would have had to hike at least as far as Daisy Farm campgrounds to get within hiking distance of Rock Harbor to catch my boat the day after. Chippewa to Daisy Farm is 9.5 miles, Daisy Farm to Rock Harbor is 8 miles. It was possible, but only if I really, really wanted to punish myself for the next three days.

I did not want to punish myself. So, as I saddled up to hit the trail out of West Chickenbone, I promised myself that I would take a long lunch when I got to Lake Ritchie, think about my options, and decide how to proceed from there.

Incidentally, this is what the trail out of West Chickenbone looks like:

It’s very narrow, very steep, and it’s mostly rocks. Big rocks, middling rocks, and many walnut-sized rocks that roll around under your boots. And the photo above doesn’t capture how steep the trail is, or how iffy the footing can be. And yet, this is part of a portage between Lake Livermore and Lake Le Sage! You’re supposed to be able to climb this with a canoe on your shoulders! I met one crew of young fellers who were paddling their way across the island in two old-school seventeen-foot aluminum Grummans! Makes my back hurt just to type those words!

Lake Ritchie was a very pretty place to stop for lunch and have a long think. The day had warmed up by the time I got there and the skies were clear. I had a look around the camp sites to get an idea what they were like, and they were okay but only one had trees I could have hung a hammock from. If I went there with the idea of camping I could have ended up sleeping on the ground. Nuts to that.

By the time I finished lunch and was ready to pack up and head out, I had decided to head to Moskey Basin. It had taken me two hours to hike the 3.6 miles from West Chickenbone to Lake Ritchie, and after that I really needed the hour-long break to sit and think, drink plenty of water, and eat some gorp. Yesterday’s overlong hike was still hitting me like a bad hangover and I knew I would only make it to Chippewa Harbor by hurting myself even more. I didn’t want to visit Chippewa under those conditions, so it seemed best to go on to Moskey.

Moskey Basin campgrounds is not considered a wilderness area. I don’t know why, that’s just what the map tells me. Maybe that’s the reason my camp site had that luxury of luxuries, a picnic table! Other than that, it was as primitive as the other camp sites I stayed at, basically just a bare spot on the ground.

I was one of the first two people to arrive as Moskey, which means I had my pick of the five or six shelters at the camp grounds. Shelters are highly prized accommodations, if the conversations I heard are any indication. I might have tried one of them if I’d been allowed to hang a hammock in it, but that’s not kosher and my old bones weren’t happy with the idea of sleeping on the wooden floor of the shelter, so I took one of the open camp sites and slept much more comfortably.

Read about Day Four!