Day Two. Daisy Farm to Moskey Basin.

I was up before dawn and sat on the dock with a cup of coffee and my camera for an awesome sunrise. Quite warm. Even at dawn, it was already in the low 70s. Made for a rather hot and uncomfortable overnight. I let Pat (Mr. Crack-Of-Noon) sleep till 9:00 am and we were off and trekking about 10:00.

This would be a short hiking day (under 4 miles to Moskey) but very rocky and root-laden. And quite hot. 80+ by noon. It was in this stretch that I tweaked my left ankle pretty good, despite constantly staring at my boots as I hiked. Then another lesser tweak. And another. By the time we hit Moskey, my ankle was swollen again….but still manageable. We were the first to arrive at the campground and took the second shelter in (#3, I think). I doused my feet in that gloriously cold water in what was quickly becoming a daily ritual.

Two boats had moored at the dock and the seniors on it had a picnic going on. Pat and I fished at the dock for a bit with no luck. On our way back to the shelter, we were offered 4 large homemade meatloaf sandwiches, which we couldn’t resist. Then Pat was offered a can of pop. And I was offered an ice cold Oberon. Yes, we were weak. And yes, we accepted. I felt guilty….for oh, maybe 2 or 3 seconds.

One of the park rangers showed up to check in with us and we had a brief, pleasant conversation. A solo hiker had shown up and took the shelter 2 sites down from us and he came over the chat with us and the ranger. First, he said he hadn’t known about the shelters and was a little disappointed at having brought a tent. He seemed not to grasp that there’s no guarantee of getting a shelter. He also said he didn’t know he would have to filter his water and was now having to boil it, and with the campfire ban at most sites (which he didn’t know about), was now leaving him short on stove fuel. Oy. I don’t know how anyone can come to this island, especially solo, and not be better prepared. I lent him my water filter so he could at least top off his supply. Had I been thinking, I would’ve also given him my can of sterno, which I carried as a backup to my regular stove.

We saw our first otter at Moskey and I got a real close look as it came right up to the dock, just a few feet away. I also lost 3 lures there without so much as getting a sniff at a single fish. Ouch. Thought we might have heard some wolves that night, but realized later they must have been loons, singing tunes we hadn’t heard before. Yet another glorious sunset under crystal clear skies, but it was another hot, hot night. I sweated my way through a very fitful sleep. Moskey is one gorgeous campground. The shelters are probably no more that 50 feet off the water.