Turtle Travels by K.R. Woollums

Rosie Wollums is about to start her Junior year as an Environmental Studies and Creative Writing major at Coe College. Being in the Northwoods for the first time as a Summer Naturalist Intern at the Museum, Rosie was excited to explore and visit Lake Superior.

I stood barefoot, my heels and toes sinking in as if the shifting shoreline of Friendly Valley Beach was going to swallow me whole. The water of Lake Superior lapped gently onto shore, beckoning me in. A south wind pushed the warming water towards me and my new coworker and friend, Katherine. The barren lakebed glittered in the sunlight, even as I stood knee deep. I hadn’t seen any plants, insects, or even minnows. Nothing blocked the light from pouring down onto the expanse of quartz sand except for myself, Katherine, and our shadows.

A rock caught my eye. It was the size of my palm, and a few feet away. As I approached, I realized it wasn’t a rock, but a young snapping turtle laying in the sand. The dark, bumpy carapace sat in stark contrast to the pale, smooth lakebed. Despite loving the turbid waters of estuaries and lakes for both home and food, the little turtle lay in the chilly and crystalline waters of Lake Superior.

Rock or turtle? It can be hard to tell in the shifting sunlight. This is a rock, but Rosie found a turtle. Photo by Emily Stone.

The estuary near Friendly Valley Beach holds the most nutrient-rich water in the area. The Sioux River carries nutrients in, and clear, cold, nutrient-poor Lake Superior pushes from the other side. The pressure from both bodies of water keeps many of the life-supporting nutrients within the estuary, and creates an extremely productive area, providing food and shelter for many creatures, such as snapping turtles.

The bare sand of the Friendly Valley Beach contrasts with the nutrient-rich estuary where the Sioux River meets Lake Superior. Photo by Emily Stone.

Back on the shore of Lake Superior, driftwood, weeds, and small spiders filled the otherwise vacant beach. Just feet behind that sat a line of brush and trees, and swallows flew and dipped through the air above. Beyond, lay a lively river, estuary, and fields. Despite the lack of life I saw in the lake, there was plenty to be seen around me.

View from a sandbar looking back at the beach. Photo by Emily Stone. 

Wading past the turtle to a sandbar, I maintained a respectful distance. I didn’t want to disturb the turtle’s sense of safety. While snapping turtles are known for being passive in water, I was a little worried about being on the receiving end of a defensive bite.

Unlike other turtles, snapping turtles cannot hide within their shells. The plastron, or bottom shell, is too small to fit their bodies. So, instead of hiding within their shell, they bite when they feel seriously threatened in life-or-death situations, or are females actively laying eggs. Snapping turtles have a strong bite, up to 125 lbs. of pressure, because they sometimes feed on hard foods. This is almost as strong as our bites, which are 160 lbs.! Common snapping turtles are foragers, eating vegetation, invertebrates, amphibians, carrion, and even the occasional small mammal, bird, or fish!

Given the small size, and rough, bumpy shell, I knew this turtle was a juvenile. Snapping turtles' carapace flatten with age, so mature adults will have a smoother shell. Maybe this teenage turtle came from the nearby Sioux River Estuary, and was exploring Lake Superior, just like me. While it was possible the turtle hatched out a nest on the sandy beach, it wouldn’t have been this year. The turtle was already far larger than any newborn snapping turtle would be, and seemed to be at least a few years old. I knew they couldn’t be near the beach to lay their own eggs because adult common snapping turtle carapaces are 10-20 inches, and this turtle’s was somewhere around 5 inches.

Young snapping turtle with bumpy shell. Photo by Mark G, iNaturalist.

Katherine and I crept further into Lake Superior. We lay in the shallows enjoying the cool water and sun just like the small turtle. After this adventure in Lake Superior, I planned to eat dinner before falling into bed. I imagined the young snapping turtle swimming back to their estuary, grabbing a snack, and settling down just the same.

For more than 50 years, the Cable Natural History Museum has served to connect you to the Northwoods. Our Fall Calendar is open for registration! The Museum’s new exhibit, The Wetland Way is now open! Discover how life thrives at the intersection of soil and water, and why we must care for these special places as they care for us. Follow us on Facebook, Instagram, YouTube, and cablemuseum.org to see what we are up to.