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All Play and No Work![]() Photo courtesy of Paul Stafford/MOT
Skiing the Banadad Trail, which connects the lower and upper trail systems in the Gunflint region.
Not that I was fed up with skiing in circles—heading down a cross-country trail only to come back to the same place a couple of hours later. But when I called recently about a lodge-to-lodge ski trip in northeastern Minnesota, I was taken with the idea of going somewhere, of skiing to a destination, a new place everyday, as if I were some ancient Norseman traveling village to village through the Scandinavian countryside. I wanted to set out each morning with a destination in mind and arrive at a snug cabin with glowing light as the gray afternoon turns to winter night.
Apparently, I’m not the only one. Barbara Young, who co-owns Boundary Country Trekking with her husband, Ted, the outfit that arranges such trips, says her customers have expressed plenty of reasons to try lodge-to-lodge skiing in Minnesota’s Arrowhead. “First of all, darn good ski trails,” says Young. “They like the variety of the lodges. On the Gunflint Trail, they like the idea of not having to monkey with their cars and luggage. On the North Shore, they like the North Shore—if they can ski and see the lake from time to time, that’s a thrill.” Exactly. I had plenty of possibilities to consider. I could take a trip as short as two nights, as long as seven. A night in a “ski-in cabin,” other nights at modern resorts. I could even ski from yurt to yurt. But first I had to make the big choice: Did I want to ski the Gunflint or the North Shore? Most of her customers, Young explains, ski the trails along the Gunflint, a network known as the Gunflint Nordic Trails. This is the real northwoods, a land of balsam, pine, and birch, where you stand a good chance of spotting a pine marten or moose. And you may even hear a wolf. The 176-kilometer trails along the Gunflint include the upper system near Gunflint Lake and the lower system east of Poplar Lake. The two are joined by the Banadad Trail, which cuts through the Boundary Waters Canoe Area. Tempting. My other choice was the North Shore Mountain Trail. Like the Gunflint system, it isn’t a single route but a network of linked loop trails totaling 196 kilometers. The trails run from Schroeder north along the shore nearly to Grand Marais. Much of this is wild country as well, with extensive trails through Cascade River State Park, Lutsen Woods, and Superior National Forest. Scaling the craggy slopes along Superior, the trails offer the possibility of frequent overlooks above the lake, which at this time of year is rimmed with ice. Since childhood visits to the big lake, I have been a fan of the shore, and recent heavy snow had made a ski trip possible. So I chose the North Shore. A few days later, after time on the phone, Young sent our itinerary. My wife, Susan, and I started with a late-night arrival at Cascade Lodge. Located near its namesake river and state park, Cascade is one of the grand old lodges of northeastern Minnesota, a landmark along Highway 61. I think of it as high-end Northwoods Traditional, with French doors facing the highway and the lake, old wolf pelts hanging on a wall, a caribou head mounted over the stairway, and a stuffed otter slithering under the baby grand in the corner. The lodge has played a key role in the boom of North Shore Nordic ski trails since the mid-1970s when its owners began working with Cascade River State Park to maintain and expand a challenging network of trails. Nowadays, more than fifty kilometers of groomed routes run through the park and surrounding area.
Soon we were making time along the main stem of the trail, which generally follows the contours of the lakeshore. The trail was wide and perfectly groomed with parallel tracks and room enough to skate-ski, though we both stuck to our plodding traditional style. Just as well. To reach Solbakken Resort we had only about ten kilometers to go. Our biggest challenge would be not getting to our destination too soon. We could hear the occasional car on the highway far below, but mostly felt alone high on the hill. As the sun emerged, the birches turned brilliant and shadows deepened. In the fluffy snow, we studied the numerous prints of deer and indistinct tracks of small carnivores—coyote, bobcat, marten? By midafternoon light snow began to fall. We figured we should stop for lunch. After all, ham and swiss on rye with potato chips, oranges, and raisin cookies would taste far better on the trail than in the lodge, where we would be on the prowl for hot food. As the day darkened, we split off from the main trail and bombed down a series of curves through thickets of conifers. We shouldered our skis to cross the highway and walked up to Solbakken’s stately log lodge. This was what I was after—arriving at a place as if we had just stumbled upon it on our way through the woods. Our cabin was tiny, but as they say, location, location, location. The little house was perched just thirty feet from the rock and ice of the Superior shore. The next morning, we found Bill Blank in the main lodge. “We lived in the Twin Cities, and this was our favorite vacation,” he recalled. “We’d always hope the big waves would roll in.” Bill and his wife, Beth, bought Solbakken in 1979. The large log lodge was once Sawbill Lodge, which had been bought out by the government. The Blanks purchased it at an auction, and the logs were disassembled, numbered, and trucked down to Solbakken, where they were reassembled in 1994. “We wanted a central lodge where people could congregate,” Blank said. “Ever since I was a kid, I wanted a log cabin.” Like Cascade, Solbakken has been instrumental in opening the trail system along the North Shore. The Blanks had a long-term agreement with the U.S. Forest Service and the Minnesota Department of Natural Resources to maintain the trails. After arranging for our shuttle, Susan and I set out from Solbakken, climbing the hill to the main trail. Soon we found ourselves surrounded by the shadows of the old-growth cedar, spruce, and birch of Lutsen Scientific and Natural Area, created to protect remnants of the forest that once covered the shore. Susan, I noticed, was skiing really fast. Or maybe I was really slow. Soon we reached Trapper Pass, our halfway point and lunch stop, where we unwrapped our deli sandwiches. From there, it was all downhill. We glissaded along a continuous slope and soon arrived at the doorstep of Mountain Inn at Lutsen Mountains. It all happened too quickly. We should have been more ambitious. Should we ditch some of our gear and head out again, I wondered? It was a good idea, but the siren call of the sauna and hot tub were simply too strong. Greg Breining writes for The New York Times, National Geographic Traveler, Wildlife Conservation and other magazines. His latest book is Minnesota: Yesterday and Today, a nostalgic look at his native state.
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