It is a strangely off-worldly experience to step out from the stamp mill ruins and onto the barren landscape of the sands. Gazing out across its desolate expanse stretching towards the horizon, you can’t help but feel as if you are standing on another planet. In the far distance we can make out a blue sliver of Superior, but the stark gray of the sands encompass our vision. The sands roll like waves across the landscape, sculpted by the wind and water of generations. Short dunes line the horizon, and along the lake steep cliffs drop off into the water. And across it all, not a single tree, or bush, or even weed grows. Completely barren.