Conquering George Island's summit

Dwight Peck's personal website

Summer 2025

A photographic record of whatever leapt out at us

You may not find this terribly rewarding unless you're included here, so this is a good time for casual and random browsers to turn back before they get too caught up in the sweep and majesty of the proceedings and can't let go.

Conquering George Island's summit

mid September 2025

George or George's is an almost circular island (113m x 108m) on the southern shore of the main lake, from which this photo was taken looking north, with little Baby Leigh tucked in on the right side. We've stumbled up to the top of it a few times before, but not recently, so it's time for another go. 18 September 2025.

The easiest walk up was off the stony reef on the right side, up a kind of easy spine walk to the top, but at some point a huge rotted-out tree crashed down directly over the way up and squatted on the mooring place.

So a few years ago, in 2019, anxious to renew our acquaintance, we wrestled the hydrobike into the then-domineering tag alders that had grown up when the water levels were lower, and from just round the SW corner there we tied up the bike and clambered up through the pine-needle infested slope (2 steps up, 1 slide back, and repeat).

At this later date, however, the leap up onto the bank seems a bit risky for aging knees, and for the past few days we've been scoping the shoreline for a preferable send-off.

And, a few meters to the right, here it is, we can be permitted to hope.

A bit of a stretch, but in any case, this time we've brought a cane. So . . .

. . . there; not bad. Nobody round here seems to know where the island got its name, but our new acquaintance, Gary the retired DJ, has done some research and discovered that, before the late 19th century sawmill days, when presumably the lake acquired the 'Lake Katherine' name, it was called the George Lake. So there's a clue.

Stepping over to the SW corner and girding our loins (so to speak) for the climb.

Easy going round here so far

Two steps up, one slide back. And repeat. (But the cane really does help.) (And it's just a cheap one from Walgreen's.) (Because we forgot to bring our skipoles in the car for this trip.)

Early progress

Entering the land of fallen birch pieces

Something like a summit is peeking down from up there. And we've only been climbing this mountain for the past five minutes or so.

Scenic views

Approaching the ridge that runs along the southeastern side of the island, but . . .

. . . the main reason that we wanted to engage in this fun folly is that we remember from the last time that there is a much lower part below the ridge along the northern side. There's some of it, which cries out to be explored.

Along the nasty old ridge line, stepping carefully. These cheap little water shoes can't take much of a beating.

See?

Eastward along the ridge -- just as we remembered it.

Generally, just a big mess, but significant fun nonetheless.

That's looking down on the northern shoreline.

That was the easier old way up, before the tree-spirits made it much less convenient.

We'd like now to explore the lower northern side, so we're seeking a congenial off-ramp as it were.

This looks the best as we can do. Geronimo!

With fervent hopes that we won't have to clump our way back up that way later.

West along the raised shoreline here . . .

. . . with lower ground peeking through from the western shore.

That's the potential mooring site we'd considered before noticing the rocky shelf above it, just below us here. One must remember to consider one's limits.

Out along this mini-ridge above the northern shore. Very nice.

To the end of it. So now we can figure out how to get back to see if the hydrobike is still there.

First we descend a bit lower along the shore, and then . . .

. . . sneak a bit upward again round the side of the ridge above.

Very clever of us to have brought a cane along -- the pine needle hillside wants to slide us downwards with most steps.

A little patience is required . . .

. . . and now we're very nearly there.

But where's the bike drifted off to?

Ah, great, always reliable. No worries.

Down we splash to untangle the mooring rope and drag the old bike off the rocks.

As we back off, we're reminded that these days we're not supposed to be here. Three of the islands, Pink, Chase, and George, are off limits as part of the Yawkey Forest Reserve, for conservation purposes. We're confident, however, that we never touched a thing except some useless pine needles underfoot. So that's okay then.

Off we go, in the late afternoon.

It really is a very beautiful little lake.

Now here's another horrible great evening thunderstorm -- people were talking about 2 inches of rain in half an hour.

A 90 second dash out to take a few photos and we're thoroughly sodden. Through and through.

Dashing back inside before being beaten to the ground

It's time to take in the shore stations

It's that time of the year again. Lakeside residents make a last trip up to tidy up for the winter.

That's Tommy's and Stephanie's dock, not much work to sort this one out.

And these folks are probably waiting for one more weekend of post-season hilarity.

This is an interesting place -- first built as a simple A-frame, when the owners wanted more room inside but weren't permitted to extend the base dimensions, it acquired a clever addition.

All down the east side of the lake -- skeletal shore stations awaiting the ice coming in.

Some of the right-thinking hydrobikers -- these are a few of the older models, without the big blue box attached to the front of them.

That's the dock of our neighbors on one side, and . . .

. . . that's a neighbor on the other side.

And that's at the head of North Bay -- the boats are packed away or carted off, and the skeletons will be dragged up soon.

Some cats greeting the autumn weather

Early morning indecision

The vegetation is dying off already, and our hunter cat senses opportunities. Tiny mice, shrews, and voles -- beware.

Another standoff

And more indecision

-- C'mon, I was here first.

-- So what?!

The Tree people have been here to plan their forthcoming efforts -- the green ribbon means 'trim this one', the red ribbon means 'get this old wreck down before it crashes through the roof'.

The seasons are surely changing.

The Lake in the Wisconsin Northwoods

Mussent Point is at no. 12.
The text overlays are updating a few names to our current understanding.

Coming soon: Everything depends on our little iPhone 13.