Two years after snowmobiles were banned in the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness, a group from 500- to 1,000-people strong drove their snow machines 15 miles into the BWCA for one day.
They weren't renegades. For them, the U.S. Forest Service granted rare permission to use snowmobiles in the wilderness across one route only. It was a memorial ride to Knife Lake in 1987. The assembly served a single purpose — to mourn the passing of a beloved resident. That ride celebrated its 30th anniversary Jan. 10.
The beloved resident was Dorothy Molter, and she was a dynamo of spirit. Her independence, tender heart and grit made her a Boundary Waters legend. For more than 56 years her home was the Isle of Pines on Knife Lake northeast of Ely, where she received as many as 7,000 visitors per year.
Many knew her as the Root Beer Lady, the Nightingale of the Wilderness, or both. Molter served her famous homemade root beer to thirsty wilderness paddlers who stopped. Sometimes she used her nursing skills to treat visitors and even wildlife that needed first aid.
She was born in 1907 in Arnold, Pa., and grew up in Chicago. Molter made a gutsy decision in 1934 that went contrary to her era, said Sarah Levar, co-author of Molter's biography and director of the Dorothy Molter Museum in Ely. Molter wasn't interested in marriage or motherhood. However, she was kind, liked people and had a nursing degree.
"[Molter] told her parents that she was giving up the big city life and the career as a registered nurse in Chicago to work at a wilderness fishing resort," Levar said. "At age 41 in 1948, she became sole proprietor of [the resort]. How many women in 1948 were the sole proprietor of anything?"
Beyond Molter's spirit, her life paralleled major environmental management and legislative changes, including federal designation of Minnesota's wilderness. She was the last non-indigenous resident in what is now the BWCA. But that took some doing.
Owing to the Wilderness Act of 1964, the federal government issued an order requiring Molter to leave the wilderness. She was no longer allowed to run the resort or reside there alone. Some area residents didn't take this lightly. Molter had touched the lives of so many that they petitioned the government to let her stay. After national media attention and a long legal battle, she was granted lifetime tenancy in 1972.