Hate to brag but, y’all, I was on vacation last week from my day job. My PTO had been piling up, and so was my impatience with anything that looked like work. It was time. We had a long list of things to get done around the house and the weather promised to be pretty dang nice, so the timing felt right.
We didn’t get everything done on that list, which is why it surprised me when one morning, while we were having coffee and preparing for the day, my husband asked if I wanted to join some friends on a hike up to the Devil’s Kettle. Don’t tell him I told you this, but he is a stickler for getting your work done before you play. That rule seems to soften a little when I take actual vacation time.
Never having been to the Devil’s Kettle, I was eager to check it out. We met our friends in Two Harbors and followed them north, stopping in Silver Bay to check out the scenic overlook before continuing on.
I wasn’t too worried about the length of the hike. It is only two miles, round trip. But the Devil’s Kettle Trail, tucked inside Judge C. R. Magney State Park, is considered a moderate climb. The Brule River drops more than 800 feet on its way to Lake Superior, and the trail reflects that.
I was more concerned about the reports of the 175 to 192 steps to reach the falls, depending on who is counting. Not concerned enough to question my decision about how I would spend the day, just enough to wonder if I would slow the group down.
We started on the trail that follows the Brule River through cedar, birch, and spruce. The first stretch is easy walking on packed dirt with a few rocky spots. Within the first tenth of a mile, the trail crosses a footbridge over the river, the water already loud enough to hint at what is ahead.
From there, the trail rises and dips until you reach the staircase everyone talks about. The wooden steps drop steadily toward the river with a couple of benches tucked along the way. At the bottom, you reach Upper Falls, a roughly 30-foot drop that fills the air with mist. The overlook for the Devil’s Kettle is a short walk upstream.
The kettle itself is a deep pothole carved into volcanic rhyolite. The river splits cleanly in two, with one half plunging into the hole and vanishing from sight. For decades, people tried to figure out where the water went. Visitors tossed sticks, dye, ping pong balls, and even a road sign into it. Nothing ever reappeared.
In 2016, the Minnesota DNR measured the river’s flow above and below the falls and found the numbers nearly identical. The water that disappears into the kettle rejoins the river just downstream, out of sight but not gone.
My dog, who on a normal day is afraid of steps, took the trail stairs like a champ. The only steps he needed to be coaxed on were the ones at the bar later, which tells you everything you need to know about his priorities.
After the hike, we made our way into Grand Marais and climbed up to the Raven’s Nest, the outdoor upstairs patio above the Gunflint Tavern. It is dog-friendly if your dog is friendly, which mine is, if not a bit of a snoot. We shared a couple of pizzas and I was able to slurp down an adult beverage before heading home.
The work we left behind was still waiting for us, none the wiser. But after a day like that, it felt a little less urgent. Sometimes you have to step away from the list and go see something new. The chores will wait. The adventures won’t. And there are a ton of adventures to be had on our North Shore.
