Gooseberry Falls & Split Rock Lighthouse

Woke up in a small parking lot where the French River spills into Lake Superior. The view from the back of the van would’ve been spectacular if it weren’t for the thick cloud cover and heavy smoke hanging over the lake. Still tired from yesterday’s long drive, I was slow to get moving. It was Sunday morning, and cars were already pulling in—people hopping out to lean over the stone wall and take in what little lake view there was.

I’d found the spot on iOverlander 2. I was a little skeptical when I pulled out of Minneapolis yesterday, but it turned out to be peaceful and quiet all night. No road noise from Hwy 61, even though it was just a mile away.

I lingered for a few hours—catching up on blog notes, doing van chores, generally trying to make the living space livable again. Once I had some words down and wasn’t feeling inspired to hike, I rolled north to Two Harbors, a small town of just over 3,000 people. Hwy 61 narrows to one lane right through the heart of it, complete with traffic lights timed just right to tempt you into pulling over—for lunch, for a gas refill, for a stroll, or maybe a beer at the brewery.

A quick Google Maps search brought up Madeira, a nearby bistro with good reviews. Free street parking (thank you, small towns) made it an easy call. I had the Madeira Bowl and a cucumber-lemon water, which hit the spot. Grabbed an oatmeal, almond, white chocolate cookie for later—perfect with afternoon coffee. Drove around a bit after lunch and made a mental note to return for photos.

Next up was Gooseberry Falls State Park, just 20 minutes north. The main lot was packed—kids darting between cars, people pouring out of SUVs headed toward what I assumed was the visitor center. I bailed and headed to an RV lot nearby. Lots of open spots and far fewer humans.

Turns out, the visitor center was only a couple hundred feet from the original lot, and I’d missed it. The stone building had the feel of a Frank Lloyd Wright design but was actually built by the Civilian Conservation Corps in the late 1930s. Inside, I met a ranger who was incredibly helpful. I asked about hiking the falls. “It’s not much of a hike,” she said. The whole loop is about a mile, but you can stretch it a bit if you want.

She then walked me through my planned route up the coast toward Canada. Not only had she been to every spot on my list, but she offered a few bonus recommendations for photography. We also chatted about the Northwest Angle—that little notch of Minnesota that pokes into Canada. She hadn’t been, but warned that it’s remote and takes planning. Duly noted.

There are five falls at Gooseberry, each one wider than the last. I skipped the fifth after hearing it was similar to the fourth. The walk was easy, partly paved, and wheelchair accessible in sections. Plenty of folks with knee braces and strollers were making the loop. I could see why it was so crowded.

I headed back to the van to wait for better light. Around six, I returned. The crowds had mostly cleared out (it was dinner time), and the sunlight had softened just enough. What shocked me was how close parents were letting their kids get to the edge of the falls—like, within a foot. The basalt rock surface isn’t as slippery as granite, but still… one misstep, and that’s it. There was even a sign discouraging people from swimming due to sudden current changes.

With the sun getting lower, I figured I might catch a sunset shot of Split Rock Lighthouse. I drove up to the entrance, but there was a line of cars and an entrance fee. From the map, I saw a few pull-offs farther south and took a chance. Bingo—found an empty viewing area with a perfect vantage point. I stayed there for over an hour and a half, chatting with folks and snapping photos.

Split Rock Lighthouse looks like it was built for a movie. Perched on a sheer cliff 130 feet above Lake Superior, it’s cinematic in every way. It was built in 1910 after a devastating 1905 storm wrecked dozens of ships along this shoreline. The lighthouse was part of an effort to protect iron ore freighters navigating the area. It was decommissioned in 1969 and is now part of a state historic site. The golden-brick keeper’s quarters, black lantern tower, and restored fog signal building all sit against a backdrop of dense forest and open water. Definitely one of Minnesota’s signature landmarks.

I debated staying the night there. No “No Overnight Parking” signs, but I needed groceries. So I headed back to Two Harbors and made it to Super One Foods with 45 minutes to spare before they closed. The layout was... weird. First thing inside: a counter selling cigarettes and lottery tickets. Not my usual welcome mat.

Groceries loaded, I made dinner in the parking lot and then scoped out a possible overnight spot near the historic iron ore loading dock. Ended up parking next to an old steam engine that’s part of the museum. Town was quiet. Really quiet. I fell asleep around 11 with not a sound outside the van.