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Hiking the Eagle Mountain Trail By Kenneth H. Rohn
Recently, feeling the need for a new adventure, I made a journey to Eagle Mountain. I thought it would be a great hike, and my assumptions proved right. The South hiking trailhead parking lot, which holds 15 vehicles, is at the junction of forest roads 170 and 158, approximately 17 miles northwest of Grand Marais. It seems that the most popular route from Grand Marais begins on County Road 12 (Gunflint Trail). Follow this highway until you reach the junction with County Road 8. Turn left and proceed until you come to County Road 27, which connects with Forest Road 170 after a few miles. Continue on 170 to the parking area at the junction mentioned above. There are other routes that lead one to this destination, but they are longer, if one is so inclined to use them. They meander through the heavily forested, mountainous country to the north of Lake Superior. If you aren't in any particular hurry and want to enjoy the wilderness setting, this is the way to go. There may be some confusion with forest road numbers that often do not coincide with those on some maps and literature available. I encountered such an incident while searching for 158 adjacent to Lake Superior on U.S. 61. I made a few wrong turns before I discovered that the road I wanted to take begins as number 48. I did not find a 158 sign until I reached the junction with Forest Road 157, several miles farther to the northwest. This secondary gravel road harks back to the early 1930s. Although well maintained, it's narrow, consists of a gravel surface, and winds its way hither and yon, over and around numerous hills and valleys. I enjoyed it and discovered a sight that I'm sure few are aware of. I saw Eagle Mountain from the back door so to speak. Its summit is visible at only one point as far as I could discern on 158. Its bald face looms high above the surrounding horizon. Although a much longer route, I was in no particular hurry and drove my pickup camper at an average speed of 30 miles an hour. It was a rare pleasure. The trail to Eagle Mountain summit from this point is rather good for the first mile or so. It takes one up and down and around hills, across swamps, creeks and beaver ponds, as well as through dense woods of deciduous and evergreens. Farther along, the trail is very much covered with glacial boulders left over from the last Ice Age. These rocks can be slippery even during dry weather, due to the wet and muddy conditions encountered. The trail is no wider than six feet at its widest and often narrows down to less than three feet. The incline is hardly noticeable in the beginning, due to the up-and-down nature of the land, but I became acutely aware of it when I found that I had to stop for an occasional breather. There's another trail to the summit, from the opposite direction to the northwest, known as Brule Lake Landing, access point 2. I didn't investigate this trail, although I noticed that it is much longer. From research, I learned that it's not as well used as access point 1. When I made my assault on the mountain, it was a mild spring day in mid-May. The trail is 3.5 miles long, with much of the last third at a rather healthy incline to the summit. I carried two cameras, film, a canteen of water, a can of pop, one sandwich and my tripod. I forgot the insect repellent. I didn't discover that until I was well along on the trail, and it was too late to turn back. I traveled light, but I'm getting a bit ahead of myself. The Eagle Mountain Trail is in the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness, and a permit is required. I picked one up at the U.S. Forest Service office on the outskirts of Grand Marais. Permits can also be filled out at the trailhead. I didn't realize how important the forgotten repellent was until later. The biting insects were most happy to see me and made themselves known early on. If I kept moving at a rather brisk pace, they didn't seem to bother me much, and didn't have time to light and feast as readily. When I stopped or slowed my pace, they quickly joined the buffet. Thus, I found little need to stop very often, even though I began to tire somewhat after the first hour and a half. Sand flies, blackflies and mosquitoes were a nuisance at times. This time of year, fall, would be an excellent time to hike this trail, as bug season is well behind us. The Tofte Ranger Station said the trail can be snowshoed in winter. The trip would pretty much guarantee winter solitude, as few people actually make such an excursion. Much of this trail is littered with boulders left over from the Ice Age, and they are basically composed of basaltic bedrock. Most cannot be removed without destroying the natural setting of this trail, so we have to contend with them. As I walked, I could see where quite a bit of improvement work had been done along the way. I also silently thanked those forestry workers and volunteers while comfortably crossing the four individual plank walks that cross swampy, wet ground. One crossing is near a small lake that has a beaver dam close by with fast-flowing water passing underfoot. I wondered as I walked with dry legs, just how in the world did those early geologists of the late 19th century traverse these places and survive the ordeal. They certainly were special people, with great stamina and determination. At Whale Lake, about two-thirds of the way along, the trail skirts the western shoreline making for a magnificent, picturesque setting. There are two campsites situated in this area. One is to the left of the trail with a small sign signifying a site. Also, the field the campsite trail crosses was once a logging camp; little remains today. The other site is on the north shore of Whale Lake. If a person had more time, it would be great to camp here and investigate the area better.
Shortly after leaving the northwest tip of Whale Lake, the Brule Lake Trail is encountered. Be sure to take the left trail. Here, the incline abruptly steepens and climbs from just over 1,900 feet near the field to the summit at 2,301 feet above sea level. I met three other parties during the climb, two on their way out. and the other passing me as I paused to take photos. Other than that, I practically had the trail to myself. The last 400 feet of vertical climb is the hardest, although really not as tough as some trails I've hiked. I skirted one area earlier that was approximately 100-yards long where a stream flowed over the trail. I would imagine it might be spring runoff, but I'm not sure. In any case, it isn't too difficult to walk on high ground along the edge of the trail for this short distance. I began the hike wearing a light jacket, but soon shed it. The day had turned rather warm and sultry, and I felt comfortable in shirt sleeves. Other than the heavy cameras bearing down on the back of my neck, (I should've put them in a backpack) the hike was rather pleasant. I hardly noticed the weight of my fanny pack loaded with my lunch and spare film. I stopped several times to take pictures, and it was a good excuse to catch my breath, although the climb really wasn't that difficult. Near the summit, there's an overlook. It's a great photo spot with a beautiful panorama of the countryside below. I could see several bodies of water, including one river in the distance, but I failed to see Lake Superior, although the literature I carried mentioned that it could be seen on a clear day, off to the south. Perhaps the horizon was obscured with haze or possibly low-hanging clouds. The view from this point is spectacular. The cherry trees were in full bloom. The azure sky was most magnificent, with puffy, cotton-candy clouds drifting by. I had the most satisfactory feeling of accomplishment while standing there that afternoon. I had indeed climbed Eagle Mountain, the highest place in Minnesota. After leaving the scenic overlook near the top, follow the rock cairns, spaced regularly along the outcropping, to the plaque at the summit amidst the trees. This is about 100 yards or so farther along the trail. The plaque legend reads as follows: "When Newton H. Winchell, Minnesota's state geologist, and U.S. Grant II (the president's son) surveyed this area in the 1860s they concluded that a peak in the Misquah Hills was the state's highest point. Using an aneroid barometer, they set the elevation at 2,230 feet. Later comers argued that Eagle Mountain, which Winchell and Grant did not measure and which can be seen from the Misquah Hills, was higher. "In 1961, a United States Department of the Interior survey team remeasured, using aerial photographs and controlled benchmarks. They found Eagle Mountain's elevation to be 2,301 feet, making it Minnesota's highest point. They also determined that the first Misquah Hills peak is surpassed by another unnamed summit 2,266 feet above sea level. Located in Sec. 19 of T-63 R-1-W in the same western Cook County area. The states lowest point is Lake Superior, which has an elevation of 602 feet. "The igneous rock composing Eagle Mountain is as old as the Duluth Gabbro, which geologists estimate at over a billion years in age." I learned one important fact on that hike. Upon reading the plaque, I discovered that president Grant's son was instrumental in surveying this portion of Minnesota way back during the Civil War era. I rested for a while at the overlook, had lunch and made my way back down the mountain. I had spent the better part of five hours on the trail. It was an invigorating hike, one that I will long remember. The climb is somewhat of a challenge and one must be in reasonably good health, wear the proper clothing, carry water and a lunch and take particular caution traversing those wet rocks. If you're looking for an interesting and educational day trip or even an overnight hike, you won't be disappointed with this trail. I wasn't. FOR MORE INFORMATION More detailed information on Eagle Mountain and the Eagle Mountain Hiking Trail can be obtained from
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hile traveling on the North Shore Drive, U.S. 61, in the vicinity of the bustling town of Grand
Marais, Minnesota, one encounters an unusual and unique phenomenon – although many visitors aren't even aware of it. The highest and lowest points in Minnesota lie only eight miles from one another as the crow flies. Eagle Mountain is 2,301 feet above sea level, and Lake Superior is 602 feet.
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