Author recounts spiritual experiences on isolated Isle Royale
By John Hogan | The Grand Rapids Press
June 06, 2010, 3:59AM

Vic Foerster"Naked in The Stream: Isle Royale Stories,” is neither survivalist handbook, sanitized tour guide nor vacation journal. It’s more like an intimate, ongoing story of how a Great Lake’s wilderness affects the people who venture to one of the most remote national parks in the lower 48 states.

Isolated from the mainland by Lake Superior, the island archipelago is pounded by Superior’s winds and waves. The island is inhabited by wolves and moose, and, as Grand Rapids author Vic Foerster points out in one story titled, “Top of the Food Chain,” overrun by mosquitoes.

The allure of a place with no roads, no cars and where cellphones receive no signal, however, is palpable — almost spiritual. And, that’s the impression you take from the first-time author’s 288-page paperback.

“Naked in the Stream” is presented in 18 chapters with black and white illustrations, poignantly crafted by former artist-in-resident Joyce Koskenmaki. The book’s title comes from the last chapter about a winter trek around the tip of the Keewenaw Peninsula where Foerster and his college roommate at Michigan Tech strip down, pack all their clothes atop their shoulders and attempt to ford an ice-choked stream.

Island rookie

Foerster shares several humorous stories from his early trips, where being an island rookie you learn not to hike in tennis shoes, how one reacts to things that go bump in the night, and how hiking downhill is, surprisingly, just as difficult as hiking uphill.

A beautiful sunset one night may be replaced by a violent storm and have unprepared campers — author included — begging for mercy.

Vic Foerster book.jpgFoerster shares experiences he’s culled over 30 years of visits to one of the nation’s least-visited national parks, including a month-long stay in September of 2002, Foerster’s 50th birthday. The book introduces readers to several people who push themselves beyond conventional limits.

Take Brian Engman for example. He crosses Lake Superior in a kayak n August, 1987 — paddling from Isle Royale to McClain State Park on the Keweenaw Peninsula. The solo trip became a local legend.

Then there was the young family in a canoe blown out into Lake Superior by strong offshore winds, unable to paddle back to shore. The ensuing rescue attempt is captivating and invites a re-read.

Other chapters illustrate how fortitude and perseverance come from pushing yourself, be it canoeing against the wind, enduring a blizzard, or fishing for dinner in the rain.

The tethers of modern society eventually loosen once you’re on the island, and the serenity and stillness that overshadows those who linger is palpable. In one chapter, Foerster recalls how he and his camping buddy accept an invitation to join a retired couple for a relaxing evening on their yacht, docked on the island’s north shore for an overnight stay. “I froze, immobilized by the urban normalcy of their behavior against the wilderness background,” he writes.

Foerster summarizes the change he felt after just two hours aboard the richly appointed vessel. “This was too easy. In just two hours I’d re-acclimated to climate control, to sitting on sofas, and to food set within arm’s reach.”

Foerster put a thread throughout the book about the relationship of sons and their mothers and how important it is for mothers to encourage their sons to explore.

He poignantly writes how his mother’s overly strict childhood drove her to “provide some space” for her children. “It was a space that allowed me room to thrive and flourish,” he writes.

If you grew up in suburban Detroit, as did Foerster, you will appreciate his description of the exodus that plays out on long holiday weekends when city dwellers head “up north.”

Cars “moved like steel cattle up freeway corridors that acted as cow chutes,” he writes.

A family trip “up north” as a boy was the beginning of his lifelong passion for the great outdoors. Isle Royale is taking it to extremes, but there is gain from the pain, he shows.

Because of the relative difficulty reaching the park and its seasonal closing, fewer than 20,000 people a year visit Isle Royale — fewer than the number of people who visit the most popular national parks in a single day.

Visitors arrive mid-May through mid-October. Often, they bring along the same over-loaded agenda they seek to escape, Foerster notes.

“Many park visitors are intent upon squeezing as much kayaking, traveling, fishing, hiking or whatever spins our recreation propellers into our time-off as we can,” he writes. “Much is missed in the process.”

For those who haven’t visited or are unable to visit Isle Royale, “Naked in the Stream” is the best substitute you’ll find. It’s great vacation reading.