On the Road in Michigan

Street life in Detroit

2011-12-05T08:51:00.000-08:00

The area near 14th and Michigan Avenue in Detroit is rebounding, with the barbecue restaurant, Slows, as an anchor. The latest addition is the Mercury Bar, which is reopening. As an a native Detroiter, my hopes are high, but deep inside me is a skepticism born of experience with the city.
Back in the late 1960s, the Plum Street district near 3rd was a developing entertainment district, Detroit's version of a hippie enclave. There were shops, and hippies and wanna be hippies mixed with the area's older skid row residents. I knew one of the older residents, a house painter who had worked for my grandfather and father. He lived in a basement apartment, and never drove. He had a bit of a whiskey habit, and also a taste for the race track. He was a World War I veteran and had lived his entire life in downtown Detroit.
I would look him up when I visited Plum Street, and usually found him on the front porch of the house where he lived, dressed in an old, worn blue suit, sometimes with a tie. He always worn a cap, too. He was an old school bum, the kind of guy we associate with 1930s movies. He wasn't like the homeless we now have -- he had dignity. I remember him telling me about how some young hippies had bummed some money from him. He was laughing so much, he was crying when he told me the story, because he knew these kids came from well to do families and were just slumming on the weekends. "I've been a bum my whole life, but never a beggar," he said. I miss those old guys who would hang around the 3rd Street bars, all of which are gone these days.
At the time, the city of Detroit decided to tear down the entire area, hippie enclave and all and sweep the old bums under the carpet. That happened, and when it did, the city lost another chance to nourish an entertainment district. This has happened way too much and its what makes me skeptical. I also lost track of my old friend, when the neighborhood was destroyed by urban renewal, or urban removal, as some say.
That happened again during the 1980s. I'd become a patron of the Woodbridge Tavern and other watering holes in the warehouse district near the river, just east of downtown. The Coleman Young administration announced plans for some pie in the sky river front development and pushed many of the taverns and restaurants out of business. The city project never saw daylight, and most of the small businesses never reopened. I sometimes think that nobody really cares about Detroit -- politicians just want to manage big projects, so they can hand out big contracts and get kickbacks.

A perfect day in Detroit

2011-12-01T10:41:00.000-08:00

I love kicking around Detroit, especially with a good companion, but the places I want to go are fairly crowded on the weekends, so to my delight my son was around on a Thursday, and we headed downtown for a look around. I took my usual route from the western suburbs, Michigan Avenue. It appeals to my blue collar roots. The route was used by generations of workers headed to the Ford Rouge complex and to the plants near Ypsilanti. It was also used by baseball fans headed to the old Tiger Stadium. I actually remember when it was Briggs Stadium.

I'm a Detroit native, and the route brings back memories of when it was a major artery and business district, especially for the Polish. There's still a Polish veteran's hall off Michigan. Detroit people may move, but they don't give up their landmarks easily.

Our first stop was the Detroit Institute of Arts, where there was a photo exhibit, Detroit Revealed, which was interesting in a visual way, but I felt it was missing something. The photos of street scenes and faces were art prints. As I walked through the exhibit, I realized what was missing -- the workers, the voices of those who put on bumpers at Fords or built boxcars, as I had done in college.

I fled and sought refuge in the room with the Diego Rivera murals, which date to the early 1930s, and show life in the factory the way it really feels. Here were the voices of the workers; their faces grim, their arms muscled from the work. These were guys I could relate to. The murals weren't without controversy when they were unveiled. Folks on the left didn't think they went far enough in showing the toil of workers, and those on the right thought they depicted too much. When that happens, the artist is right on. The right wingers almost got their way, and the murals were almost painted over, but Henry Ford's son, Edsel, came to the rescue and they survived.

I've been a fan of the murals since I was in college at nearby Wayne State, and use to sit in the room and read. These days I'm working on a historical novel set in Detroit in the early 1930s, an era beset by labor troubles, and the murals give me a glimpse into what factory life was like during that era.

After out tour, we went to Slows Barbecue on Michigan Avenue for lunch. It was about 2 p.m., and we got a table right away, a treat since weekend waits to get into the place can be up to an hour. Much of the block where the restaurant is located has been rehabbed, and there's news that the old Mercury bar across the street will be turned into a coffee shop. I thought about the recent news from Wayne County about how a new appointee to Metro Airport was given a sweet heart contract for $200,000 and an expensive package from the county because she quit her job to take the new one. I wondered what developers could do with just a few hundred thousand dollars to redevelop the area around Slows. It makes me sick to think that government in Wayne County and Detroit is wasting so much money on cronyism and corruption, when there are so many projects in need of help.

After lunch, we casually walked across Michigan, something you couldn't do 20 or 30 years ago because of the traffic. I just hope that some day that traffic returns. We owe that to the workers who helped build this city.

The perfect cabin

2011-10-30T07:04:00.000-07:00

One possible benefit of the real estate meltdown may be that some of the older cabins in northern Michigan and the Upper Peninsula will survive, instead of being torn down and replaced with modern second homes. Older cabins have a cozy feel to them with their pine paneling, rustic decks and screened in porches. They can sag a bit, but that only adds to their allure. They may only have one small, cramped bathroom, but who wants to spend the day in the bathroom when you can be outdoors.
In my travels through Michigan for the past 35 years, I've watched as older rental cabins have been replaced with new, modern ones fully equipped with cable TV, wall-to-wall carpet and microwaves. I feel like I should clean up before going inside.
But there's one place I love to stay at that has resisted change. It was built in the 1950s and is on a small like in the Michigan/Wisconsin border country. There are no neighbors on the lake, and not a building in view of the deck that overlooks the lake. It's small by today's standards, one bedroom, with a sleeping couch in the living room, but it has pine paneling and a stone fireplace.
There's a telephone for emergencies, but no television. A book case holds old hard cover books, most dating to the 1940s and 50s, and there's a radio. So the activities in the cabin at night after a day of hunting consisting of talking, reading or sitting in front of the fire -- all through backs.
The guys I hunt with there are all experienced outdoors men and I learn things from them from their stories, another old time tradition. While we may now live a more convenient life, we've lost something important along the way.

The last day in the woods

2011-10-26T14:58:00.000-07:00

A sadness comes over me on my last day of a hunting, fishing or paddling trip in the Upper Peninsula, one that prompts me to find a quiet place to sit on a stump or log, away from companions, usually spending about 30 minute enjoying the silence, knowing it will be a long time before there are no people or noise around. It doesn't work in the Lower Peninsula -- too many people. It only works in the vast spaces of the U.P., the more desolate the landscape the better. This fall my little ritual was performed in a hunting place in the eastern U.P. I call the Thornapples, a special spot where I first hunted my dog Maggie nearly 20 years. Most would quickly drive past it, if they even ventured out there on the sandy and often mud filled roads. There are no towering trees or waterfalls, just scrub land cut over more than a 100 years ago and left to recover as best as possible, the white pines replaced with the Thornapples, a bush with many thorns, as the name implies, that bear tiny apple-like fruit. It's a great place to hunt woodcock on their annual fall migration south. It's a tough place to hunt and I'm often plucking them out of my legs until Thanksgiving.
It was the last day of our eight-day hunt, and my 63-year-old legs were hurting, so I told my younger companion to take a swing without me, so as not to be slowed by an old guy like me. I sat on a downed log and did my devotional thinking, and then got up and started walking again towards where I'd heard him last shooting and calling his 12 year old dog. The Brit came wandering out of the Thornapples and came right to me. I figured that in dog years she was probably older than me, so I held her by the collar and made her sit and do her own thinking about the last day of the season. She didn't object, even though bird dogs have a drive to keep hunting, one that I often fear kills older dogs. Maybe it will kill me some day, but there couldn't be a better way to go than sitting alone on a stump in the U.P. woods contemplating the solitariness of being in the woods alone on the last day of a good hunt with good companions.

From the Keweenaw to Monroe

2011-09-15T09:04:00.000-07:00

As a travel writer I've been in every county of Michigan, but I still have my bucket list, which includes spending six weeks on the road following the fall colors from Copper Harbor to Monroe. My starting point would be on top of Brockway Mountain, near Copper Harbor, which offers a view of the surrounding mountain ranges and Lake Superior. I'd start the trip in mid-September and end it about Nov. 1.
Here are some spots I'd stop at:
* Big Bay in the Huron Mountains northwest of Marquette. I'd paddle Independence Lake, and take a drive on County Road 612, which goes through the mountains, and make stops to hike to the Yellow Dog River. The Thunderbay Inn is a good, cozy place to stay, with a bar-restaurant, and the prices are reasonable.
* Marquette: The view of Lake Superior is worth the stop. The Landmark Hotel gives you a good vantage point. It's one of the top notch places to stay in the U.P.
* Lake Superior lakeshore. Follow M-28 to Munising, stopping along the way to look at the big lake. In Munising, take a boat tour of the Pictured Rocks, which are trimmed with fall colors.
* Munising to Grand Marais. Take H58, which is now paved all the way to Grand Marais. Stop at Chapel Falls for a small hike in the woods. Also, check out the restored lighhouse at AuSable Point.
* Grand Marais to Newberry. Follow H58 along Lake Superior, and stop along the way for walks on the beech. Head south on H17 to Newberry, where you'll find plenty of motels and restaurants.
* Tahquamenon Falls. If you've never seen them, fall is a great time of year. Less crowds, and fall color to boot.
* Mackinac Island. The crowds are down, and its cooler, so walking around is a joy.
* Cross Village. Take County Road C 66 west off of I-75, and spend time exploring the little village perched on Lake Michigan. Stop at the Legs Inn, a quirky bar-restaurant hand built from local wood by its founder. Follow M-119 south, which is called the Tunnel of Trees, to Harbor Springs. It's slow going because of the winding road, and traffic.
* The apple harvest. The fruit growing region along Lake Michigan from Traverse City to Manistee is worth several days, if you like the harvest season and road side stands. I usually buy too many apples and pears because I know the money is getting right in the pockets of Michigan farmers.
* The elk herd. Gaylord and Vanderbilt on I-75 are the gateway to the Pigeon River State Forest and its elk herd, which is active in the fall because its mating. Check with the DNR for sites where the elk can be seen.
* Float the Au Sable River. The crowds are down, and it's a good time to paddle one of the states best trout streams. Grayling is a good place to cast off, but Mio has even less crowds, and the river is wider there. It's all easy paddling, even for a novice.
* The Thumb. This region is often overlooked, but it has a certain charm in the autumn when the farmers are in their fields harvesting sugar beets, beans and corn. Stops in towns like Bay Port, Bad Axe, Caro and Cass City offer a glimpse of rural life. They're not touristy and there are more grain elevators than gift shops.
* Southeastern Michigan. There's more to see here than factories. The Huron-Metro park system offers access to the Huron River and lakes. There's some good hiking in the parks, too. Apple orchards and cider mills abound.
* Monroe. It's almost a forgotten place, but it was the hometown of General George Armstrong Custer and there's a museum there to honor him. Monroe is a low-impact city on Lake Erie. For a pleasant afternoon, check out Sterling State Park, just north of Monroe. It offers a view of the lake and picnic areas.

It's safe to go back in the woods

2011-09-01T07:30:00.000-07:00

Summer is on the wane and the campgrounds will soon be deserted. While some lament the passing of summer, I don't. And it really hasn't ended, it's just that Labor Day for many means its time to head back to school, and shut down the summer cottage. This is the time between summer and fall, and I start coming alive, after suffering through the heat of July and August. It's time to take up the fly rod again to pack in as many fishing days as possible to sustain me through the chill of winter. Michigan poet Mike Delp calls going fly-fishing "pulling the rip cord." I'm headed to what I call my lost rivers, ones that for some reason or another I haven't fished in a decade or so. I'm going through old sets of county maps looking for the makes I've made on them for the last 30 years, looking for my old access sites. The coffee-stained maps, perhaps five or six sets, many of them with missing pages, lost years ago. I worry that those pages are my lost rivers, pages that were so well-used that they fell out of the book. They contain notations of places to fish and what flies worked. Perhaps I'll just have to work from memory, and that's often the best way because then you prompt yourself to remember just the good times.

High gas prices, weather can keep travelers near home

2011-05-26T13:32:00.000-07:00

As a travel writer, I usually spend holiday weekends at home or close to it, knowing that better days are ahead for gas prices and weather. It's been a grim spring, with the rains. But there are usually plenty of unexplored places near home to keep a family occupied on Memorial Day weekend. Here's a quick look:
* Check out The Henry Ford for a day. If it's raining, stick to the museum.
* Dinner in Detroit's Greektown. When's the last time you were in downtown Detroit? Greektown offers many moderate-priced meals.
* Your local park. Mine is Hines Drive in western Wayne County where there's a great bike trail and a fitness course near Hines and Ann Arbor Trail.
* The Huron-Clinton Metro Parks in southeastern Michigan offer bicycling, hiking, paddling and other outdoor activities.
* Sterling State Park five miles north of Monroe offers a great beach on Lake Erie.
* If you're looking for a day at the beach and live in a southern Michigan city, check out Saugatuck on Lake Michigan, it's only a few hours west of Metro Detroit and even less from Lansing and Grand Rapids. The resort town offers dozens of restaurants and trendy shops, if its raining. The rooms there can be expensive, so check out lodging in Holland, just north of the beach town, for better options.

Dreary Days of Spring

2011-03-23T08:11:00.000-07:00

While others may be hoping for a break in the fighting in Libya, I'm glued to the weather channel waiting for a break in the weather so I can get out on a river, lake or stream. If I don't, I'll end up as crazy as the Libyan leader. The weather forecaster doesn't give me much hope, as I sit hear looking in the yard as the cold rain falls. There are some buds on the pussy willow bush, but if I remember right, I've usually cut them by this time of year, which tells me it's a late spring. Even a glass of whiskey isn't much solace on a day like this, so I've turned to looking at the photos I took last summer for a canoe/kayak guide that's coming out in May. The photos remind me of the warm days on the Pere Marquette River or of days spent kayaking along the Sleeping Bear Dunes on Lake Michigan. Guess I'll just have to wait it out.

St. Pat's Day Destination

2011-03-16T14:06:00.000-07:00

Sean O'Callaghan's Pub in Plymouth Michigan is going to be awful crowded on St. Pat's Day, and for good reason, it's one of the top Irish bars in the metro Detroit area, and a personal favorite. There's a large selection of beer from the British Isles, and many brands of Irish whiskey. I usually ask the bartender, who is usually from Ireland, to suggest one, and I've never been disappointed. The food is authentic. I've had the corned beef and cabbage and the fish and chips. The decor has an Irish pub feel to it, and one could wander around half the night looking at the prints on the walls.

Beans & Cornbread in Southfield

2010-11-10T06:39:00.000-08:00

After spending much of the year on the road in northern Michigan writing a canoe/kayak guide, it's a relief to get away from my diet of cheese burgers and beer at Up North taverns. Over the last several years, I've gotten to know more about the U.P. than my own home town -- Detroit. But that's changing, as I start work on a travel guide to the city.
Got a chance to eat at Beans & Cornbread in Southfield, an upscale soul food restaurant. They're going to get into the guide. The food was great and the service excellent. We went on a Tuesday night, so it wasn't too crowded. I had the pork chops in red eye gravy, and my wife, the fried chicken. I tried a bit of both, and while the chicken wasn't as good as the "hens" my Arkansas grandmother "fried up," as she called it, it was better than anything I've tasted in years.
The dinner was traditionally southern, with three sides. I had greens, black eyed peas and corn. Northern white people usually consider boiled green beans as the only vegetable fit to put on the table. In the south, you get more variety.
While at the bar, I had an interesting discussion with an African-American woman about southern fried chicken, and she struck a chord with me. I told her the chicken was just about as good as my southern grandmother's and she told me that there was probably an African-American woman behind that recipe. Her comment brought back a misty memory of something my father told me about such a black woman who worked for his parents. I wonder if she was the source. My father's dead, and I'll never know. Such are the mysteries of the south.

A fresh look at Detroit

2010-11-05T14:46:00.000-07:00

On a recent evening, I checked out the Wayne State campus, and was happy to see students walking around, lights on in buildings, and Old Main, a building I took classes in 40 years ago, looking good. For me, it was a way to shift gears and get in tune with my old hometown. I spent the past year writing a canoe/kayak guide to Michigan, and spent much of my time in backwoods towns.
I'm now at work on a guidebook to Detroit, which will give me a chance to take a good look at my old haunts and see how things have changes, some for the better. There's a lot of great stuff to say about Detroit, especially lately. I was a bit amazed to see The New York Times do a story on Slows Barbecue in Detroit. Too often the national media shows up, takes a couple of pictures of the abandoned Michigan Central Depot and old auto plants, as a way to show the city's decline.
I've got a great opportunity to tell Detroit's story, and I'm going to take advantage of it. But I'm going to be honest. I was near Wayne State to have dinner at the venerable Mario's restaurant. The service is still top notch, but lobster night drew my wife and I there for dinner. We got there about 7 p.m. and they were out of it. It was a bit off putting. If you're going to advertise something, you've got to step up to the plate and do it. I'll go back, but I won't suck for lobster night again.

Favorite summer photo

2010-09-16T13:41:00.000-07:00

Summer is on the wane, and I've just completed writing a canoe/kayak guide to Michigan for my publisher, The Countryman Press. When looking through the photos for the book that I took during my travels through the state this past summer, I still like this one the best. It was taken on the Keweenaw Peninsula in the U.P. A favorite place I'm going to get back to next summer when I have more time to paddle, not just write and take photos.

Where to be unplugged

2010-08-21T06:55:00.000-07:00

You won't get any calls here, the Apostle Islands

A couple of years ago while fly-fishing the Yellowstone River in Montana, I couldn't resist calling my son to tell him about a large trout I'd caught. I didn't think the cell phone would work, by my fishing guide said they did so long as you could see a road. There was a ribbon of a freeway in the distance, and the phone worked. My son was caught in Detroit traffic, and we laughed about where we were.
I thought I was unplugged out there, and it was a good feeling to be beyond the bonds of wireless technology -- unavailable, as we once were just a few years ago.
There are still a few places out there in Michigan where you can disconnect. Here's a list:
* Copper Harbor. Cell phones don't work at the tip of the Keweenaw. I found it a relief while staying there for several days. If you go, and need a cell phone fix, you can drive to the top of Brockway Mountain.
* Western Upper Peninsula. I feel like I'm in a time warp when I visit places like Iron Mountain, Iron River and Crystal Falls. You're in the central time zone, and cell phone reception goes in and out, depending on where your staying.
* Pere Marquette River. Try a fall float down the Lower Peninsula, if you're looking to disconnect for a while. The high banks on the shoreline block cell phone reception.
* Drummond Island. Located in northern Lake Huron, the island has shaky service.
As for wireless Internet junkies, apart from Marquette it's a crap shoot. Sometimes you'll find yourself sitting in your vehicle near a public library to hook up.

It's time to visit the Upper Peninsula

2010-07-08T06:03:00.000-07:00

With the temperatures in the 80s and 90s in southern Michigan and about 100 along the East Coast, its time to think about a trip to the Upper Peninsula where it's in the 70s. A cool drive along the shore of Lake Superior on M 28 is just the tonic we need this time of year. There are stunning beaches and an either calm or stormy Lake Superior. For many, the U.P. conjures up images of woods and waters, and there's plenty of that, but there is also a lot of urban culture. Try visiting Marquette, which has about 25 art galleries, Northern Michigan University, and a top flight hotel -- The Landmark. A bicycle trail follows the lake front through town, and restaurants and smalll cafes thrive.

Christmas in July

2010-07-07T06:29:00.000-07:00

The hot weather probably has many of us wishing for Christmas in July. Well, here it is -- the Upper Peninsula town of Christmas in a photo taken in July. Christmas is a few miles west of Munising, and owes its existence to it's name. A small gift shop in the town doubles as a post office, so you can have your Christmas cards post marked with the word Christmas. There's also a casino, but I doubt if they give away gifts.

Misty, cool day on Beaver Lake

2010-07-06T07:14:00.000-07:00

I'm back from a ten day paddling trip through the Upper Peninsula, most of the time I was on Lake Superior, but I found this lovely inland body of water, Beaver Lake, in the Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore between Munising and Grand Marais. There's a small campground and boat launch there, and it has a creek, Beaver Creek, that empties into Lake Superior, so you can get to the shoreline of the big lake. It's a bit of a trip. You have to get out of your kayak and "line" your boat through the creek, which means pull it. It's about a quarter mile to the big lake. Many of the days I was there, it was misty and cool, and I'm yearning for that weather again as I sit at my computer in southeastern Michigan editing my photos in 90 degree heat.

Rough day on Lake Superior

2010-07-01T06:18:00.000-07:00

The winds were up a bit yesterday on Lake Supeior when I paddled through the Pictured Rocks in the Upper Peninsula, but myself and other kayakers braved the waves and found some stunning views. It was a crystal clear day, although a bit cool. The best trip on rough days is to put in at Sand Point near Munising. From there you can paddle across the channel to Grand Island or follow the Pictured Rocks to Miner's Castle. The island buffers paddlers from the waves from the big lake.

Faded history in an Upper Peninsula mining town

2010-06-30T17:36:00.000-07:00

Getting off a main highway has its rewards, the scenery is often better, but it also offers a glimpse into the past. While driving toward Marquette the other day I stopped by to see the town of Republic, which is off the main road, and I was able to get a look into the not to distant past of this mining region. Most the small towns in the central and western Upper Peninsula are organized around an old mine, now not in use. Some how some of these places hang on, God knows how. Republic is one of them, but the old iron miner homes are sagging, along with most buildings in town. The place, above, is an antique store that wasn't opened on the day I stopped by. There's a faint set of lettering for Bosch beer above the doorway, which was made in Houghton/Hancock and was still sold in the 1980s. A look at the building makes me wonder what it was. There are living quarters upstairs, and a garage door in front, along with a store from. I'm stumped as to what it was. But the folks here are hanging on to the town, even though iron mining is long gone. In a way it reminds me of Detroit, which hangs on to it's rusty relics of the auto industry, even though everybody knows the good old days aren't going to come back. In 30 or 40 years, is some travel writer like me going to drive through Detroit and see it as I did Republic?

Da Yoopers Tourst Trap catches me

2010-06-30T06:57:00.000-07:00

For some reason, I can't pass this place without stopping. It's the lack of any pretention that draws me to stop at the Tourist Trap on M 28, just west of Marquette. Big Gus, the world's largest firing rifle, or so they say sits out in front, along with old cars and other junk. There's an oversize rocking chair that people love to have their pictures taken in. Inside there are joke items, many related to farts, such as farts in a can. The poor Finns are the brunt of many of the jokes, and there's a Finnish two-seater outhouse, only trouble is that it's a two-story one, with one hole sitting on top of another. There's nothing educational about this place, and that's why I find it a relief to stop at. No lessons on the envirnment or social causes, just outhouse humor.

Loon on lake in the Sylvania Wilderness Area

2010-06-29T16:10:00.000-07:00

For years, I've been trying to get a good picture of a loon on a lake in the Upper Peninsula, and I finally did it the other night in the Sylvania Wilderness Area near Watersmeet. It was a matter of taking my time, and doing some soft paddling in my kayak, so as not to scare the bird. Loons are ground nesting birds and this time of year, a lone male loon in the lake means there is a female on a nest not too far away. The job of the male is to attract the attention of possible preditors to keep them away from the nest, so the mother isn't disturbed. Male loons will dive underwater to get away from you, and this one did seconds after the picture was taken. I feel lucky to have seen this one this close.

Calm day on Lake Superior

2010-06-29T05:30:00.000-07:00

The weather has finally cleared in the Upper Peninsula and the winds have settled down, making it a good day for paddling on Lake Superior and elsewhere. Spent Monday in the Sylvania Wilderness Area near Watersmeet in the western U.P. paddling Clark Lake. The area is a great place for familes to canoe camp, gentle paddles, warm inland waters for swimming and fishing.

Paddling the Sea Caves

2010-06-28T04:56:00.000-07:00

The Sea Caves in the Apostle Islands National Park are very accessible to paddlers. The trip along the coast starts at Meyers Beach on the western shore of the Bayfield Peninsula and takes you for several miles along the caves area. The trip takes several hours or longer, depending on how long you want to linger. The caves are entrancing, so I took my time paddling into them and looking up at the sandstone rock arches. Watch out for paddling here, the water is cold, I wore my wet suit, and the winds can change quickly. By the time I turned around to head back to the parking lot, I was fighting brisk head winds and was paddling into the waves.

Misty beach

2010-06-27T05:10:00.000-07:00

These are the best times when you have a good paddle, sitting on the beach and watching the misty rain move in just after you got off the water. The photo was taken in the Keewenaw Peninsula, which I think is one of the best paddling destinations in Michigan. The scenery is wonderful, rocky shore lines and mountains to see. The access is good, and there are many protected bays to paddle when Lake Superior kicks up. There are also inland lakes worth paddling.

In the Apostle Islands

2010-06-26T15:02:00.000-07:00

A stop in Bayfield, Wis., to kayak in the Apostle Islands is making me home sick for Michigan. Guess it was the sticker shock on motel rooms, $150 a night or so, but there are lots of yachts around here, so they can jack up their prices. Even the low key motels are so upscale that one even had flowers planted in all their eve troughs.
Having just been in t he Keweenaw Peninsula where the rooms were about $60, and the paddling acutally better, I was tempted to turn around and head back, but I've got a paddling book to write and need to check out the Apostle Island.
There's a lot of boat traffic and inter-island kayaking is discourged by the National Park Service, so you're pretty much stuck going with a tour group, or a larger group of your own. Recreational paddlers can do much better at the Keweenaw.

Paddling Copper Harbor

2010-06-26T05:52:00.000-07:00

The Keweenaw Peninsula can almost exhaust a paddler with at the possibilities. I spent the last two days paddling in and around the Copper Harbor area and haven't even scratched the surface. Lake Superior has been kind, there's been some rain, but the waters have been calm and I've put a lot of time in on the water.
Evening is my best time. It's light up here until nearly 10 p.m., and a four-hour night paddle is very possible.
Last night two of us did Copper Harbor Bay. The water was like glass and the rocks shrouded with mist. We explored the rocky outer islands via kayak, and found small opening of water to paddle through. You could spend an entire day in the harbor.
Eagle Harbor is anaother sheltered bay along the coast that has may possibilities, but there's one place I didn't have time for that I want to get back to some time, thats Agate Harbor. Places like that haunt me always. I catch a glimpse of them, but can't get to it that day. Visions of those places come back to me often on cold winter days.

Secret passage way to Lake Superior

2010-06-23T17:21:00.000-07:00

We all like to find secret places, or maybe just ones that seem secret to us. I found one today while paddling Beaver Lake in the Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore between Munising and Grand Marais. It's really not so secret, but I wonder how many people have used it. It was pointed out to me on a kayaking map by a park official, so other do know.
The Beaver Lake campground, with about a dozen sites, is the gateway to Little and Beaver lakes. The sites were filled, but I was the only kayaker on the lakes. Many times I've noticed that you can have a place to yourself, if you get 50 yards away from a campground. I put my boat in the water, and paddled away, w hile most campers were building fires they didn't need, and were just sitting around unaware of the beauty on the two lakes.
Little Beaver flows into the bigger lake on it's east end in a narrow channel. When I saw the bigger lake, I couldn't see the end of it, and thought I'd some how come out on Lake Superior. As I paddled, I realized a mist had settled, obscuring my vision.
I followed the lake shore and found Beaver Creek, a narrow, shallow affair. I aimed my kayak downstream into it and floated for a while. However, at some point I realized I'd need to get our of my craft and pull it further. I was alone, so I abandoned the idea. I'll try it some time.
On Thursday, I'm headed to Copper Harbor in the Keenwenaw Peninsula for a differ view of Lake Superior.

Paddling Lake Superior

2010-06-23T06:30:00.000-07:00

I set out last night on my first paddle of Lake Superior as part of my weeklong trip to the Upper Peninsula, doing research on a paddling guide to Michigan to be published next spring by The Countryman Press. The big lake was cooperative and calm, hardly a riffle on Grand Marais Harbor.
Evening paddling is wonderful this time of year, with the sun not setting until nearly 10 p.m., and it's orange glow giving you plently of light to get back to your truck.
I'm headed to the Pictured Rocks today, oops, maybe not, just heard the roll of thunder. The rocks are sheer cliffs that go 50 to 200 feet above lake level, and there's no place to land on shore. It makes for some tense paddling. I'm going with others, as it's not safe to do it yourself.
If it rains, I may just head inland and fo some fly fishing.
It's tough getting good weather reports up here. It seems like the weather forecasters on TV forget the U.P. exists.

A Sunday paddle on Lake Erie

2010-06-21T07:34:00.000-07:00

Like many folks who live in Metro Detroit, I tend to head Up North for recreation, but this past Father's Day, I headed south on I-75 for a change, and drove about 45 minutes to Sterling State Park near Monroe on Lake Erie.
Although it wasn't planed as a Father's Day event, it turned out that way because our paddle on Brest Bay brought back vivid memories of fishing for perch with my father and grandfather in the 1950s. In those days, especially during October, we would catch boat loads of them, and I remember endlessly scaling them at my grandparents' cottage. There would then be large family dinners. I've priced perch at markets, and figure I probably scaled at least a million dollars worth when I was a kid.
Because much of the Lake Erie shoreline in Michigan is in private hands, we tend to forget about it as a paddling destination, but both Sterling State Park and Lake Erie Metropark near Gibraltar provide access. My day on the lake brought back memories of my first lessons about the environment. As far back as the 1940s, my grandfather, a dedicated fisherman, had started voicing concern about the effects of pollution from a Monroe paper plant on the lake and fish. This was long before Lake Erie was considered "dead."
People knew things like that in the old days, even though they didn't have the expertise in the environment that we now have.
Lake Erie is a poster child for good environmental practices. Fish are now thriving and people can swim and enjoy the beaches.
Our Father's Day paddle took us through some lovely fresh water marshes in the state park and onto the big lake. Paddlers could spent a few hours or the entire day on and around the bay. If the winds are too high, stick to the marshes and near the shoreline.
Check out the paddling map in this blog for the route.

View Lake Erie Paddling Map in a larger map

The weather is getting better, it's time for a trip

2010-05-12T08:29:00.000-07:00

The weather is finally breaking in Northern Michigan, and this weekend would be a good one to get out for your first annual spring outing. By some accounts, the morel mushroom picking season is in high gear, along with trout season.
Last weekend, the trees were yet to hit full bloom, as they have in southern Michigan, but by this weekend, there should be more greenery. Temperatures are expected to range from 60-70, and the skies partly cloudy to sunny (May 14-16)
A good way to experience a spring weekend is by paddling one of Michigan’s rivers. The big crowds of summer have yet to hit the rivers, and you’ll have the river mostly to yourself. Paddling in Michigan, especially those from metro Detroit, often means the Au Sable or Rifle rivers.
I’m suggesting trying the Pere Marquette at Baldwin in western Michigan. Baldwin is only about three and a half hours from the Detroit area and about one and a half hours north of Grand Rapids. The Pere Marquette is a National Scenic River, and has much to offer, especially first time paddlers.
The river takes little skill to negotiate and is fairly shallow. There are deep holes, so watch where you step. There are occasional downed trees, sweepers, across the river, but because it is heavily used by fly-anglers in drift boats, there is usually water passage around the tree.
I recently spent three days padding the river, doing research for A Paddling Guide to Michigan, which will be published in the spring of 2011 by The Countryman Press. To me, the Pere Marquette is what I call “a first river,” a river where you can take a family or friend for the first time and have a good time paddling without struggling.
To ensure having a good time, here are a few tips:
Make sure to bring a change of clothing in plastic bags. That should include a rain parka, hat, and a fleece jacket.
Bring plenty of water. I know that beer drinking while paddling is a Michigan tradition, but you can get awfully dehydrated from the sun, even this time of year.
Bring your cell phone, but buy a water proof bag for it and your camera. You can find them at sporting goods stores, usually for less than $15. If you’re the type of person who is tied to their electronic device, take note that you’re often without service. This is especially true on the lower part of the river where you’re surrounded by high river banks. If you’re desperate, climb to the top of a bank, and you’ll usually have service.
Make sure somebody knows your itinerary, in case of emergency.
Don’t schedule too long of a trip. The paddling times for the river from takeout point to take out point are fairly accurate for one constantly paddling at a moderate rate. Since I fly-fish along the way, I usually figure a four hour trip will take me from six to eight hours. Figure in what you plan to do along the way when scheduling.

If you have your own boat, this is a good river to use it. The Huron-Manistee Forest Service requires rental canoes only to be on the river from 9 a.m. – 6 p.m. A car spotting service is located at the Pere Marquette Lodge on M-37 at the bridge over the river. The cost is $25, and they will pick up your vehicle where you put into the river and take it to the landing where you’re planning to get out. Bringing an extra set of keys is helpful. There is one other cost – a Forest Service user permit, the cost $30. It’s required when you park your vehicle.
For more information, contact: Baldwin Canoe Rental, 800-272-3642, Ivan’s Campground and Canoe Rental, 231-745-3361 or the Pere Marquette Lodge, 231-745-3972, 8841 S. M-37.
Accommodations: The Pere Marquette Lodge offers rooms, log cabins and homes within walking distance to the river. It’s a great place for larger groups. The cabins are cozy and offer cooking facilities. Cost, $70 and up. The Red Moose Lodge, 231-745-6667, 8982 South M-37. The lodge is three miles south of Baldwin and is on the river. The rooms have been renovated, cost $60-$100

Handy websites: www.pmlodge.com, www.redmooselodge.com

A spring float on the Pere Marquette

2010-05-05T12:13:00.000-07:00

This is a great time of year to get out on Michigan rivers. The foliage isn't thick yet, and you can see the landmarks along the river banks. I love old houses or cabins on streamsides, like this one on the Pere Marquette River near Baldwin.
The old houses speak of a different era when white pine was cheap, and it wasn't expensive to add a couple of extra rooms to a house, especially a screened in porch for use on summer evenings.
The Pere Marquette is a joy to paddle, especially if you have your own boats. Floats range from four to six hours, which is pretty much an entire day, if you're fishing along the way, like I did, or even just sight seeing. In three days of floating, I caught plenty of large brown trout, and a few rainbows.
Because the trees and other foliage wasn't up, I saw many deer and the bird watching was good. The morel mushroom season was on and there were folks in the woods harvesting them. A combination float trip/morel picking expedition would be a good trip.
I stayed at the Pere Marquette Lodge in Baldwin, which offers rooms in the lodge, cabins and a few houses for rent. The cost was moderate, about $70 a night for a room. The folks in the fly shop at the lodge arranged for someone to spot my car, picking it up where I put my river in the boat and moving it to the take out spot to which I was headed.

Trout season opens in Michigan

2010-04-26T08:12:00.000-07:00

For once the weather cooperated this past weekend for the opening of trout season, and we were catching fish on dry flies instead of watching flecks of snow in 35 degree gray skies.
I just hope it was a good omen for the coming tourist season in Michigan. If gas prices stay pretty much where they're at, and the weather cooperates, it’s a good time to start planning weekend trips.
On Friday we floated the North Branch of the Au Sable River in a flotilla of graceful, wooden Au Sable River boats, and didn't get off the river until 9 p.m. Lots of fish were caught, and we were treated to a spinner fall toward evening. Watching the insects is a treat, even for those who don't fish.
The upper river near County Road 612 was fairly low, and we needed to get out of the boats on occasion to push them, and the river got deeper near the middle of the float and it was clear sailing.
The Au Sable River boats are fairly heavy, and are intended for deeper water. I'm looking forward to using a new fishing kayak I won at the Ann Arbor Trout Unlimited Chapter banquet on the night before my 62 birthday. It was just what I needed, since I'm writing a canoe/kayak guide to Michigan this year.
On Saturday, I avoided the crowds on the Au Sable and headed to the Plate River near Honor with my son John. There we saw only one other angler and caught young, splashy rainbow trout on dry flies.

It's time to cheer up, the worst of winter is over

2010-01-26T08:03:00.000-08:00

I just heard a television report that January 25 is considered the most depressing day of the year. It's also my wife's birthday and she can attest to that. But there's an upside, the worst of winter is over. The report prompted me to look at some of my photos from my Michigan travel book, Michigan: An Explorer's guide, and I found one that reminds us that better weather is in store for us. It's a photo of the Mackinac Island boat dock. By the way, the TV report said that June 25 is considered the best day of the year. It's time to make plans for how to spend it.

Cabin fever has me feeling like Gabby Hayes

2010-01-23T08:43:00.000-08:00

It’s mid winter in Michigan, thoughts of fall are fading and it’s too early in the year to start thinking about spring paddling, fishing or hiking. My winter supply of books is dwindling and like others in the upper Great Lakes, I’ve got a bit of cabin fever, and I’m starting to feel like one of those characters played by Gabby Hayes in the old western movies, the old prospector who has been alone in his cabin for too long.

The marketing geniuses who put out fly-fishing catalogues know this, and the four-color, slick products start arriving in the mail about now and tempt me to buy new rods, reels, other gear or clothing that I usually don’t need.

Since I’m writing a canoe/kayak guide to Michigan this year, paddling catalogues are arriving, reminding me of gear I didn’t know I needed.

I can usually resist the efforts of marketers until I hold my annual Jimmy Buffet party. The ingredients are simple – a Jimmy Buffet song, “Boat Drinks,” fly-fishing catalogues, a credit card, but most of all, a bottle of tequila.

By the end of the evening, I’ve usually placed several orders, and sometimes I surprise myself when the gear arrives. The after effects are usually a hangover and a big credit card bill to pay off.

Buffet’s song speaks to me in the winter – “I shot six holes in the freezer, I think I got cabin fever.”

On such nights, my wife makes sure my shotguns are out of reach and that the shells are locked up.

So far there has been no damage, but there’s always the first time.

This winter is the time to re-discover Houghton Lake

2010-01-19T07:03:00.000-08:00

For several generations of southern Michigan residents, Houghton Lake was Northern Michigan, but when I-75 was built in the 50s and 60s, folks could get a lot further for a weekend. But the Houghton-Higgins lakes area has become a perennial favorite for Michigan residents, many of who were introduced to the area by their parents.

A good time to revisit the area is during Tip-Up Town, Jan. 22-24, and again Jan. 29-31. Houghton Lake comes alive with food booths, snowmobile events, a queen contest and other events.

But the centerpiece is still the Tip-Up, a rig used for ice fishing. Ice anglers people the lake, standing over holes in the ice, waiting for a fish to hit their Tip-Up rig.

These days, the event may seem a bit old fashioned for some, but it’s worth going to, especially if you’re starting to get cabin fever at this time of year. It’s also a good chance to expose children to ice fishing.

Just a couple of tips, if you go. Wear warm clothing, a snowmobile suit if you have one, or layers of fleece make a good substitute. As a veteran of past Tip-Up Towns, I’d advise you to wear rubber boots. The ice can get slushy with all the traffic, and leather boots can quickly get wet.

There are many motels and cabins in the Houghton Lake area, but if they’re filled, try the Holiday Inn in Grayling, which is only a few minutes north of the festival site.

For more information, go to: http://www.tip-up-townusa.com/cgi-bin/tutusa2006/index.html

"Last Child in the Woods" helps you get your kid outdoors

2010-01-15T10:57:00.000-08:00

At a recent chapter meeting of a Trout Unlimited Chapter to which I belong, I fell into a conversation with a veteran angler in his late 50s who was having trouble getting his children in their late teens and early 20s interested in the outdoors.

I’ve heard this story time and time again from guys my age, 50s-60s, and when the meeting started I looked around to take note of the ages of the people there. With a couple exceptions, most were my age. Many other conservation groups are having the same aging problem.

Luckily, I’ve been reading Richard Louv’s book, “Last Child in the Woods: Saving Our Children from Nature-Deficit Disorder.” The well-researched book presents the facts behind what many of us now see – kids just don’t go out and play like they did.

I’ve had those thoughts for a long time, but have resisted expressing them for fear of being thought of as a “grumpy old man,” the kind of guy who is always saying “things weren’t like this when I was a kid.” Upon reading the book, I can now say that with some authority.

I had my own epiphany a couple of years ago while standing in my front yard. I watched as a kid rode his bike on the sidewalk past my house. It was an old-fashioned bike, and the kid didn’t have a helmet and he was wearing a plaid shirt, jeans and had short hair. It reminded me of what I looked like in 1957 when I spent my summer days roaming my Detroit neighborhood.

I’m a cyclist myself, and I envied the kid because he wasn’t wearing a helmet, which I do. I remembered the freedom of movement with the wind blowing in my ears, and wondered if the kid wasn’t some sort of apparition sent to remind me of my carefree days of youth.

You just don’t see many kids like that alone anymore. And Louv has the answer – fear. The news media and others have young parents scared stiff of everything from head injuries to strangers abducting children. We now have “Amber Alerts,” cell phones, and even tracking bracelets for kids. We’ve got our kids tethered as though they were criminals.

Louv’s main contention is that we’re inhibiting children’s creativity by not allowing them to form a relationship with nature, and that by allowing kids to roam fields and woods; we give them hands on experience that translates into learning.

He also contends that modern suburbs have zoned out those little wild places where kids can get lost in nature. I saw this when I was the editor of a suburban newspaper and attended more government meeting than I could stand. When it came to empty lots, fields or even parks that had a little wild space, residents went nuts – anything that didn’t fit into their neat, little suburban life plan was a problem. Property values are everything. Suburbia has made them one of their Ten Commandments – “Thou shall not allow anything that could lower property values.”

Because of that, the fear factor and our obsession with making kids study too hard, the streets of suburbia are empty of kids these days. When I first started working at newspapers in the early 1970s, photographers could easily find photos of cute kids doing things on the street or in parks. When I left newspapers in the early 2000s, photographers couldn’t find a kid on the streets.

And if they did, the fear factor was there. One incident tells it best. A photographer happily came back to our office with some photos of kids taken in a park, and was happy about it. He sat down briefly at his desk and the phone rang. His face turned beet red, and he told the caller: “Yes, that was me.” He talked to the person for a few more moments, and then looked up and said: “That was the mother of the kid I took a picture of. She called to see if I was some sort of pervert.”

I’ve experience that myself. I do a lot of bicycling in my neighborhood and I’ve learned not to go when school is letting out. I changed my habits after I was cycling past a school bus stop where parents were waiting for their kids. I was met by icy stares from parents who apparently thought I was a child abductor.

Louv addresses those fears, and comes up with good, solid numbers that say there are no more child abductions by strangers than there were in the past, and that most are committed by other family members, usually as part of a child custody disagreement.

But perhaps his most controversial premise that goes against the grain of modern educational theories is that kids shouldn’t be spending too much time in front of their computers, they should be outside gaining real experiences, not virtual reality. When I read that, I had a flash back to my grade school days. I don’t know if schools still do this, but my class use to take walks around the neighborhood in the fall and pick up leaves that we then took back into the class room and learned how to identify.

That’s the kind of learning that we’re losing as a society in our seeming obsessive quest to turn out kids into little learning machines.

Road food: A list of diners and dives

2010-01-14T12:26:00.000-08:00

Eating on the road isn’t always a pleasant experience, which I learned while researching my travel book, Michigan: An Explorer’s Guide. My goal was to stay away from fast food places, and review and list as many locally owned spots as I could.

I found plenty of new favorites and renewed some old acquaintances during the year I spent on the road. I’ve always had a soft spot in my heart for the small, mom and pop breakfast restaurants, where locals start their day.

There seem to be more in the Upper Peninsula, probably because they haven’t felt the competition from fast food places. One favorite is B’s Country Café on U.S. 2 in Iron Mountain. The wait staff knows the patrons by first name and how they take their coffee. The décor is 1950s, but so are the prices. A cheese omelet cost me about $5 and kept me going all day. Another U.P. favorite is the Kaleva Café, a fixture in the mining town since 1918. The breakfast I had would have kept a copper miner working hard all day. There’s also a bakery, with bread and pastries.

I also renewed my friendship with the Union 76 truck stop on U.S. west of the bridge near St. Ignace. I’ve had a fondness for it since the 1970s when I first stopped there on my way home from a back packing trip to the Porcupine Wilderness State Park. I was young, and didn’t have a credit card, and had just enough money for gas, the bridge toll and one meal. Perhaps, that’s the reason I can still remember the taste of the bacon and eggs at 2 a.m.

For some reason, I can't help stopping at Spikes Keg 'O' Nails for a burger if I'm in the Grayling area anytime near dinner. My fondness for the place goes back nearly 20 years, when I stopped there with my hungry sons. The power was out but they managed to get me a beer and feed my boys. The experience made me a repeat customer.

But while I love roaming the U.P., Sunday evening isn’t a good time to go looking for a meal. I pulled into Ironwood on a late Sunday, planning to spend the night and check out the town. Pretty much everything was closed, so I ended up in my motel room with a dinner of beef jerky, cheese and beer. As I dined, I watched Samantha Brown on the Travel Channel, as she was eating in a small bistro in Italy, and realized not all travel reporting jobs are created equal.

After my adventure in great eating in Ironwood, I came up with a list of travel food that I now carry. I doubt it will ever make the Food Chanel, but here it is:

· Beef jerky. It’s a great source of protein, and besides I love to stop at those roadside jerky stores and outlets.

· Pickled eggs. They usually can be bought at the jerky stores, and make for a good, quick breakfast.

· Canned corn beef or Spam. Both can be consumed cold they’re cooked, but can easily be fried in a pan.

· Canned sardines and herring. Both are fish dishes and I’ve convinced myself that they’re healthy and are brain food.

So take that Samantha, you can have your Italian bistros, and please pass me the Spam.

The nation gets a taste of Michigan weather

2010-01-11T11:16:00.000-08:00

Watching the various TV networks talk about the so-called Arctic winter freeze the nation is experiencing is amusing when you live in Michigan. It’s not really news to us; it’s just another typical January in Michigan.

A friend recently moved to a Deep South town in Mississippi, and sent me an e-mail about how the town is in a panic because there’s a bit of snow and temperatures hit the 20s. Folks there are worried their pipes are going to freeze and they’re buying winter coats.

Us folks from Michigan don’t have to do that, we’ve already have coats, and as one northern Michigan guy once told me: “You just get up in the morning and put on layers until your warm. But you never really get warm, and at some point you get use to it.”

I think he said it best for all of us. Too bad the TV networks don’t interview him, its good advice for our southern cousins.

Secret hide aways: State Park cabins, yurts

2010-01-09T05:19:00.000-08:00

One of the best kept secrets in Michigan is that the State Park system rents wilderness cabins and yurts to stay in during both winter and summer. They're scattered around the state, but my favorite are in the Porcupine Mountains Wilderness State Park in the western Upper Peninsula.
It’s the largest state park in Michigan, with 60,000 acres and it offers a wide range of activities, from cross-country and downhill skiing to backpacking and mountain biking.
For years, many cross-country skiers have headed to the park in April for spring skiing at its best. Temperatures hit the 40s and there’s still snow on the ground.
During the winter, the DNR rents yurts, which are 16 feet in diameter and are equipped with bunk beds, mattresses, a cook stove, axe, bow saw and cooking and eating utensils. Reservations are suggested. Rates are $60.
There are 17 rustic cabins scattered around the park. The most popular is the Lake of the Clouds cabin, which sleeps up to eight. Rates are $60.
For larger parties, there’s the Kaug Wudjoo Lodge, which originally was the park manager’s home. It has a stone fireplace and a rustic interior, and sleeps up to 12. Rates are $1,225 a week. Reservations are required.
For more information, call 906-885-5275, or go to the DNR website, www.michigan.gov/dnr.

We hit the road Kerouac style in the early 1960s

2010-01-07T10:44:00.000-08:00

A recent re-reading of Jack Kerouac’s classic American travel novel, “On the Road,” has made me realize that we’ve lost the ability to hitchhike or drive across the continent and actually experience the country, rather than watch the countryside speed past us on a freeway, with stops at the same fast food places that are at every interstate exit.

The irony is that freeways and the Internet have expanded our worlds, but at the same time have diminished our ability to experience it.

When ever it’s practical, I get off the freeway and take the old state roads that wind past small mom and pop operations, and look at the skeletal remains of towns and businesses that once thrived on travelers who were “On the Road.” My own travel blog, On the Road in Michigan is a homage to Kerouac and that time in the 40s and 50s when we could experience the country by traveling.

My family’s first trips were from Detroit to Arkansas to visit family members, and I remember in the fall driving through cotton country and seeing African-Americans in wagons pulled by mules, taking the cotton to market. I also remember a fuss in a gas station when a black man tried to use the rest room. I didn’t have to read about racial intolerance, I experienced it.

But even those were the bad old days, there was still a sense of excitement to travel, the was a sense of the unknown that we’ll never be able to recapture in these days of GPS coordinates in our vehicles, and apps on our phones that put every bit of road information at our finger tips.

For some reason writers tend to portray the 50s and early 60s as a placid era when everybody was boringly compliant, dull and conservative. I think it’s based on the assumption that somehow the late 1960s were a more exciting time, with the Vietnam War going on, civil unrest in major cities and drugs rampant. Take your pick. When would you rather be 10-years-old, 1958 or 1968? My pick is 1958.

Kids were still free to roam. For Kerouac hitching a ride was a way to see the country, but for the kids in my Westside Detroit working class neighborhood in the 50s and 60s, it was a way to get around. Not everybody had a muscle car. And it was acceptable. My football coach advised us to wear our letter jackets because it was easier to get a ride if motorists thought you were a jock.

On occasion, friends would go the Kerouac route and hitchhike to California, with a variety of consequences. Some made it out there, others ended up in jail along the way when money ran short, and petty larceny was the only way to get out of a small town in Iowa.

My neighborhood wasn’t exactly made up of college bound, preppy kids portrayed in the TV show “My Three Sons” – it was pretty solidly blue collar, with a lot of auto workers. For a while in the early 60s, the thing to do was drop out of school and join the Marine Corps, which you could do at the time.

These 17-year-olds who returned home, many of them hitchhiking, in their uniforms looked pretty romantic to us, and they talked about what seemed to be faraway places like Parris Island or San Diego. They were headed to places like Okinawa. We hadn’t yet heard about Vietnam that was yet to come.

They’re experiences opened up the world to us, and we were able to get a few places by hitchhiking. One of my early hang outs was a pool hall about five miles from my house which I regularly hitched a ride to. It exposed me to a world of pool hustlers and other con men, when I was about 14 years old. In my small way, I could be part of Jack Kerouac’s world of shady pool hustlers, con men and guys who spent their afternoons at the race track.

I once told my then teenage sons they should get out of the house and go hang around on a street corner, like I had done. Their answer ways that I was “old fashioned.”

And what should I expect from a generation that grew up on video games and computers? Why bother to go see something, when we can look at it via Google Earth? There it is on our computer screen in living color, so why bother to take the trip?

Kerouac still has the answer, to get the feel of the country. In “On the Road,” he paints a broad mural of what America looked like in the late 1940s, with the beauty of the countryside and all the warts of big cities like New York or Los Angles.

His descriptions of pool halls, bars, teen soda fountains and greasy spoons took me back to my teenage years in the 1960s when we hung around on street corners, and hitchhiked where we wanted to go. We weren’t trapped in subdivisions, like kids are now; we had the city of Detroit at our disposal either via bus or our thumbs. We were free to roam unlike middle class teens these days who are tethered to the parents via a cell phone or text messaging.

I remember my parents asking me where I was going and my response was “out.” They’d then ask when I’d be home and my answer was “when I got there.” These days I suspect that would be considered child abuse. But those days seemed much safer in retrospect, and it’s understandable that my parents didn’t have too many worries about letting me wander around the city.

Recently, I quizzed some folks about my age who grew up in my old neighborhood about hitchhiking and general street life. One woman said she met her husband when he was hitching a ride, and another friend told me about the people he picked up. “One guy was wearing a fur coat in July. Another asked me what planet we were on.” On another occasion, he picked up a woman, and the conversation turned to where they worked. He told her about his job, and asked her where she worked. Her reply was: “I’m working right now.” She then asked to be dropped off on a street corner, where she went back to plying her trade.

It’s all pure Kerouac and kids now don’t know what they’re missing.

New U.P. Almanac delivers facts, funny stories

2010-01-05T12:52:00.001-08:00

For Upper Peninsula devotees, the newly published Michigan’s Upper Peninsula Almanac is a must have.

Put together by Ron Jolly, a Traverse City radio broadcaster, and Karl Bohnak, an Upper Peninsula meteorologist, and published by The University of Michigan Press, the Almanac is a hefty 580 pages, and provides almost more than enough information.

There are plenty of numbers and statistics, which often tell us what we already know – the U.P. is cold and snowy in the winter and it can be hot in the summer. But there are some real nuggets of information, such as the name “Cloverland,” which an Upper Peninsula newspaper man used to describe the region in an effort to attract farmers and stock raisers.

The campaign did attract some sugar beet farmers and some ranchers from the West for a short time in the early 1900s, but the endeavors didn’t profit and most were gone by the late 1920s

Not much has escaped the notice of the authors, including the exclusive Huron Mountain Club northwest of Marquette, which has long been a retreat for Midwestern business tycoons, including Harvey Firestone and Henry Ford. The club along the shores of Lake Superior has 30,000 acres and is limited in membership to about 50.

The Almanac features a section on well-known Upper Peninsula residents, and while many people know that George Gipp, the Notre Dame player made famous by the movie line “win one for the Gipper” was from the Calumet area, it also takes note of the lineman who played on the same team and was a blocker for the Gipper. He was one Hunk Anderson who was born in Hancock and graduated from Calumet High School. The Hunk eventually made it to the NFL and eventually was head coach at Notre Dame during the 1930s.

Jolly and Bohnak have really done their homework on this one. The actress Doris Packer, no her name wasn’t ever on a movie marquee, played the principal of Grant Avenue Grammar School on the “Leave it to Beaver” television series. Packer was born in Menominee in 1904 and later moved with her family to California.

The are many Mackinac Bridge facts, which include the famed Yugo that when over a side rail and plunged 150 into the Straits during a blizzard in September, 1989. But there’s also the story of an Air Force pilot who flew his $3.5 million jet under the bridge on April 24, 1959. The pilot, John Lappo, of Muskegon, said at the time he had a life-long dream of flying under a bridge.

There’s also a section on how various U.P. towns got their names, and my favorite is the Baraga County town of Covington. Seems that when it came time to name the community in the late 19^th century, nobody could come up with a name, so in the spirit of the times, they looked to the bottle – a whiskey bottle -- for inspiration. On the bottom of the bottle was the name where the whiskey was made – Covington Kentucky. So the town was born.

Perhaps those who name the subdivisions where many of us now live could use some of that inspiration, and maybe we’d have Jack Daniels Acres instead of Quail Ridge, or something equally as silly.

Thoughts of a hidden beach in January

2010-01-02T08:33:00.000-08:00

With the temperatures in the teens this weekend, my thoughts went back to summer days and beaches that I want to see again. I found this one between Copper and Eagle Harbor on Lake Superior in the Keweenaw Peninsula. I was doing the research for my travel guide and stopped to snap a picture, but didn't have time to explore he beach as much as I wanted to. There wasn't a soul around and I would have liked to have walked out on the wooded point in the photo. I plan on getting back there this coming summer when doing research on a new paddling guide to Michigan for my publisher, The Countryman Press.

Cardinals and Blue Jays

2010-01-01T06:33:00.000-08:00

In the winter I try to help out our little feathered friends as much as possible with a bird feeder and a water source, but this year there seems to be fewer birds. But then on Thursday there was a sudden attack staged on the feeder by Blue Jays and Cardinals. Not quiet certain what accounted for that, but it was an exciting moment. One poor bird flew into a window. It survived. I'm sitting here on New Year's Day waiting for them to return. It's better than watching the Rose Bowl Parade.

Happy New Year from Michigan: An Explorer's guide

2009-12-31T08:13:00.000-08:00

As we slip into our coldest month, I'm thinking about the warmer months when I'll be traveling the state working on a new travel book, The Paddler's Guide to Michigan, which will be published by The Countryman Press in the spring of 2011. As I work on the book this winter, I hope thoughts of warm Michigan waters will get me through the months ahead.

Michigan travel resolutions for 2010

2009-12-28T08:27:00.000-08:00

The economy is keeping people closer to home, and for us folks in Michigan, that’s not a bad thing, there are plenty of places to see and things to do near home. There’s also a growing movement to buy Michigan made products, and travel in the state is one of those.
To consider yourself a Michigan person, here are ten places to put on your 2010 New Year’s travel resolutions.
1. The Mackinac Bridge. If you haven’t seen the five-mile bridge connecting the Upper and Lower peninsulas, you really can’t consider yourself a Michigan resident.
2. The Pictured Rocks. Located in the Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore between Grand Marais and Munising, the cliffs and sand dunes on Lake Superior are some of the most stunning sights in the state. For the outdoor minded, there’s a hiking trail the length of the area. Kayaking along the lake is also a good way to see them. For others, there are boat tours from Munising. One tip: Take the evening cruise; the colors of the rock formations are more vibrant at that time of day.
3. Keweenaw Peninsula. At one point during the 19th century, the region was one of the most important in Michigan because of copper mining. The town of Calumet had a population of more than 60,000, many of them immigrants from Finland, Italy and Great Britain, all drawn by mining jobs. A national historical park encompasses much of the old mining areas from Houghton/Hancock to Calumet, with many of the building open to the public. Calumet’s downtown looks as though it was abandoned in about 1910. The rugged Lake Superior shoreline looks more like Maine than Michigan.
4. Indian Village. The neighborhood of about 350 houses on Detroit’s near east side was home to the city’s elite, starting in the 1890s and continues to be that today. There are many Arts & Crafts homes, and there’s an annual home tour. Go to HistoricIndianVillage.org, for more information.
5. The Nordhouse Dunes Wilderness Area. Located about ten miles south of Manistee on Lake Michigan, the dunes are lesser known than the Sleeping Bear Dunes near Traverse City, but are just as stunning and there are fewer people. The 3,500-area area offers camping and lovely days at the beach. Nearby Manistee is less crowded and less expensive than Traverse City, and has two Lake Michigan beaches.
6. The Thumb. It’s probably one of the most overlooked regions of the state, but it has its charms, lighthouses, small towns and decent beaches, especially at Caseville. In the fall, the farm fields look golden, and there are many roadside stands offering produce.
7. Grand Rapids. The downtown is alive with activity and nightlife. The Amway Plaza Hotel is the centerpiece. Many of the older buildings have been renovated. Also, the Meijer Gardens attract many visitors.
8. Beaver Island. Located 30 miles from the mainland in Lake Michigan, the island isn’t as well known as Mackinac, but it has its own allure. Ferry service is based in Charlevoix, and you can take your auto to the island. Try taking a bicycle or just walking, they’re cheaper than taking your car over.
9. The Grand Hotel on Mackinac Island. Take the plunge this year, and stay in this historic Victorian hotel that was built in 1887. The iconic structure that presides over the island still has a Victorian feel to it. There’s a dress code, but that’s a small price to pay for staying in an elegant place. Room rates start at $230 night, so it’s not out of reach.
10. Cranbrook Art Museum. Located in Bloomfield Hills, the museum is part of the Cranbrook Educational Community and is filled with the works of contemporary artists. It also focuses on design and architecture.

Best Michigan spots for New Year's Eve

2009-12-19T07:45:00.001-08:00

If you’re looking for a place to celebrate New Year’s Eve and don’t want to do much driving, here’s a list of hotels, inns and destinations that fit that criteria. They’re scattered around the state and range from high-price hotels and inns to simple places.
The Perry Hotel in Petoskey is one of my top choices. It’s a small, intimate hotel with a cozy bar in the basement and a good dining room. The gaslight downtown district of Petoskey is within walking distance, and offers shopping in specialty stores. The City Grill, nearby, an excellent restaurant for casual dining. Hotel rates, $55-$270. For reservations, call 231-347-4000.
The Landmark Hotel in Marquette is a top choice because of its view of Lake Superior and location in the Downtown area. The elegant 62-room hotel has a wonderful lobby to hang out in, a casual bar which also serves food and an elegant dining room for formal occasions. Rates are $125-$270. It’s just a few blocks walk to the Vierling Restaurant & Marquette Harbor Brewery, which serves up its only locally produced beer and casual to upscale meals. Prices, $12-$20. Snowbound Books is also nearby, and offers many Michigan-related books. Call 906-228-2580 for reservations.

The St. Clair Inn is about 50 miles from downtown Detroit, but seems a world away. The building, with a view of the St. Clair River, is a National Historic site, and opened in 1926. The rooms have been modernized over the years, and the rates are $50-$150. The River Lounge Bar is the casual watering hole in the Inn, and there are also more formal dining rooms. Call, 800-482-8327 for reservations.

The Ramsdell Inn in downtown Manistee in northwestern Michigan offers ten rooms and suits in an 1891 Victorian stone structure on the town’s main drag, River Street. It would be just the place for New Year’s. There’s a first floor pub, and it’s within walking distance of other downtown restaurants and taverns. There’s a boardwalk along the nearby Manistee River. Rates, about $100. For reservations, call 231-398-7901.

Detroit’s Greek town offers numerous restaurants and taverns in which to celebrate the evening. Our personal favorite is the Laikon Café, which serves up authentic Greek food. If you’re spending the night, the Atheneum Hotel on nearby Brush Street offers 174 rooms. For reservations, call 313-962-2323.

Grand Rapids is alive with nightlife in the safe, clean downtown area. At the center of the entertainment district is the Amway Grand Plaza Hotel. In the hotel is The 1913 Room, a top-flight restaurant, entrees, $20-$36. For reservations, call 616-774-2000.

Bay City’s Midland Street entertainment district is a draw for many younger folks, with numerous bars and taverns housed in older, restored buildings. Our favorite is the old Arlington Hotel, which was once a lumberjack hotel. The best place to stay is at the Doubletree Hotel on the Saginaw River. The hotel is newer and modern, and has a bar. Call 989-891-6000.

Hats off to Made in Michigan Kromer

2009-12-09T09:41:00.000-08:00

The wool winter coat came out the other day and along with it, a battered Stormy Kromer, one of those wool caps that looks like it should have been worn by an Upper Peninsula logger in the 19th century or a European immigrant during the same time period.
They aren’t exactly what you’d call hip in an urban way, but they have a certain backwoods chic to them, if worn properly. They should be pulled down as far as possible, giving you a Finnish farm boy look. And if it’s cold and windy, pulling the flap down keeps the cap snugly on your head.
Only once did my cap blow off and that was on a winter day in Marquette when the winds off of Lake Superior hit about 50 miles an hour, so strong that the power in the downtown area was knocked out. And I did have to scramble for the cap, which was being tossed around by the wind.
They’re made in Michigan and have an Upper Peninsula heritage. As the story goes, the hat was created in about 1903 when George “Stormy” Kromer, a semi-pro baseball player and railroad engineer kept losing his hat when gusts of wind blew through his locomotive. He asked his wife, Ida, to do some work on one of his ball caps. She came up with the Kromer.
During my travels, researching Michigan: An Explorer’s Guide, I stopped in at the Stormy Kromer plant in Ironwood Michigan. It did my heart good to see local people working in the plant in the western Upper Peninsula, where unemployment is high. According to the company, it will produce 65,000 of the caps this year.
The firm also makes shirts, gloves, jackets and other items, all made in Michigan. Check out their products at their website, www.stormykromer.com, they’re about the same price as sportswear produced overseas.
I had a particular treat this past fall when rambling around the western Upper Peninsula with a friend who was picking up a new vehicle. We went to a large hunting and fishing lodge, a classic north woods log lodge compound and discovered that the folks from Stormy Kromer shot the photos for their hats at the place.

Christmas shopping for made in Michigan

2009-12-07T09:28:00.000-08:00

This is the Christmas for us folks in Michigan to try helping our neighbors by buying some of their goods and services. The buy Michigan campaign is growing, and even the Detroit Free Press is taking note. They recently had a decent spread on holiday books written by Michigan authors.
That’s a good start, but it got me to thinking how we can support Michigan folks who have real jobs making things. I’m talking about the stuff we use in real life, not just plates with the seal of Michigan on them or other trinkets.
Actually, I’ve been concerned about this for a while, and while traveling the state to research and write my travel book, Michigan: An Explorer’s Guide, I took note of all the great things we produce here in the state.
When writing the travel guide, I gave my Jeep Cherokee center stage because I wanted people from other parts of the country to know that we not only build cars, but we drive the ones we make.
From my travels, I compiled a list of Michigan products, things that we use in our daily lives that we need.
• Food: This fact from a state website struck me the most. If we all just spent $10 a week on Michigan agricultural products that would mean an additional $37 million would go into our economy.
• Wood: Yep, we still cut down trees in this state, and build things out of them. Timber industry workers and carpenters make decent living wages and support families, unlike the checkout clerks at big box stores. I mention this because several years ago, I remodeled a room in my home and tried to use as many Michigan products in it as possible. My carpenter used a local lumber yard, and for the ceiling, I went on line searching for Michigan white cedar. I found it at a small mill in Boyne City, Town & Country. We called, ordered the tongue and grove paneling, and the folks at the mill had it shrink wrapped and sent to us via UPS. It arrived just on time for my carpenter, and it was no more expensive than if I’d bought it at a big box store. Here’s the mill’s website: www.michigancedarproducts.com
• Beer: Here’s a product consumed in many Michigan homes on a regular basis. There are many brew pubs that serve their own products, but there are Michigan beers on the shelves of many party stores. Pick up a six-pack of Bell’s, Arcadia or Atwater, all Michigan made brews.
• Clothing: Carhartt is a Michigan firm that produces tough work and outdoor clothing, much of which is made in Michigan. But not all, so check the label before buying.
• Footwear – Wolverine Boots of Rockford Michigan produces rugged outdoor and work boots. Again, not all of their footwear is made in Michigan, so check the label, but at least the company is still located in Michigan.
• Wine – Michigan made wine is making a good name for itself. Picking up a bottle for the holidays is a way to keep you money working in your home state.

If you’re interested in supporting Michigan products, here’s a website devoted to the subject: www.madeinmichiganmovement.com.

Also, www.allusaclothing.com is a good website to find American made clothing. Check out the prices, they’re really not much higher than the stuff from overseas.

Pure Michigan should be revived

2009-12-05T14:57:00.000-08:00

It was a sad thing when the state legislature cut the Pure Michigan budget from about $30 million to $5 million this fall. It was not very noteworthy in a way, with the financial problems faced by the entire state, but the trouble is it really hit middle class families where they live – their businesses.
While traveling through Northern Michigan this summer, I heard nothing but good things about the public relations/advertising program that has been pushed through parts of the nation. Resort owners near Munising said it really helped bring people to Michigan this past summer.
That’s a good thing. Once folks start a family tradition of going to a certain place on a certain weekend, they tend to come back year after year. Motel owners in the Keweenaw Peninsula told me that Finnish family reunions in that part of the state are a big boon for business.
So how do we keep people coming back to Michigan? I think we all need to put pressure on our state legislature to revive the Pure Michigan campaign. Look, we’re giving tax breaks to Hollywood to make movies in our state, which I think is a great thing. But maybe we could tighten a few of those loopholes, and push the money toward the people who live and pay taxes in our state. It’s the least we can do for the people who live here.

A Christmas gift to help from getting lost

2009-12-01T09:55:00.000-08:00

For years I resisted the GPS trend and stuck resolutely to my trusty compass when grouse hunting, but this year I came into at least the 20th century, and joined the woodsy, computer crowd.
The change of mind was precipitated by an unscheduled walk last year during a hunt in the featureless eastern Upper Peninsula. I was hunting with a group guided by a fancy GPS system. We became separated, as usual , and I followed my compass, heading back to where I thought the truck was parked. Along the way, I took an extra 45 minute walk, quiet out of the way.
I eventually got back to the truck, but I caused some concern for my son, who came looking for me.
This year was different. My son bought me a Bushnell Back Track, a simple one purpose GPS system that’s easy to use, and at $70, fairly inexpensive. He’d found it in the L.L. Bean catalogue.
When he gave it to me, I looked at it, hesitant to turn it on. But I plunged in, and was pleasantly surprised by how easy it was to use. There are only two buttons, one to turn on the power, and the other to mark your spot. I was using it within a half hour. You can mark four way points on the device, and it also has an electronic compass for back up.
The device simply tells you how far you are away from your vehicle or any other spot, and tells you what direction to take to get back. It doesn’t have fancy, color maps of where you are and it’s only good for a range of 99 miles, but as my son said, “If you’ve walked more than 100 miles from your truck, you’ve got more problems than finding your way back.”
The Back Track served me well during our fall hunt, and saved me some walking. The only complaint I have about it is that the directional arrow on it, telling you which way back, is too sensitive to movement, and swings wildly at times while walking. I found that by standing still for a moment, and holding the device level, it would give me a true reading. However, the distance it read was always correct, and measured almost every step taken.
It also has other uses. It works well as a car compass, and would be great for those looking to find their way back to the car in a crowded mall parking lot. Runners, bicyclists and cross-country skiers can also use them to determine how far they have traveled. Paddlers could also use it to find take out points, or negotiate backwaters.

Why we paddle

2009-11-30T11:43:00.001-08:00

There was ice on the bird bath this morning and I mournfully put away all my paddling equipment. It hasn’t been used in the past couple of weeks, but I kept it out anyway, probably as a way to forestall the inevitable onset of another Michigan winter.
As I put away the paddles and other gear, I got to thinking, why do we paddle? If we just wanted to cross a body of water or fish, we’d use a motor boat, they’re faster and easier. But I think motor boats cut down on our horizons, while canoes/kayaks expand them. I’m attracted to the irony that paddling expands your world.
That’s because it slow you down. Zipping quickly from place to place on a small lake uses up the scenery at a fast pace. When you’re paddling, the landscape gently unfolds and you notice the small bays and you don’t frighten the wildlife.
There’s a small lake near my house that I paddle in late summer and early fall to catch a glimpse of sand hill cranes. They only nest in two places in Michigan, one in the Upper Peninsula and the other near my home in southern Michigan. A motor boat would send the cranes flying, but in my canoe, I can glide close enough to them so they can put on their gangly dance of a walk for me.
Also, a canoe/kayak can easily be landed on a shoreline, where you can explore small wetlands or natural features.
The horizon of the natural world gets larger, rather than contracts when paddling.

A snap shot of Detroit in the 1930s

2009-11-28T08:06:00.000-08:00

“It is not at all unusual for extreme statements to be made about Detroit as a center of radical thought, or for the city to appear at times to justify them.”

No, that quote wasn’t from the Wall Street Journal, Time Magazine or The New York Times, all of which have shown up from time to time to chronicle the downward spiral of the city; it’s from the WPA guide to Michigan published in 1941 as part of a depression –era federal program to put writers to work.
As the writer of travel guides, I’ve long wanted a copy of the book, Michigan: A Guide to the Wolverine State, and found one recently in an Ann Arbor book store. I didn’t know what to expect. Chamber of Commerce stuff, a smiley face placed on the Depression. What I found was an honest assessment of Detroit in the 1930s. The writers at the time observed the growing seeds of what would become the city’s demise, the one-industry town where life revolved around an auto plant.
The word picture drawn by these writers 70 years ago are for the most part still true. Here’s how they described us: “Detroiters work hard. The bulk of them have little time for culture, for the theater, the night club, or the erudite lecture. They find their recreation in going on Sunday drives with the family or cheering for their favorites at the baseball park. The Detroit Tigers enjoy the most loyal following of any baseball team in the major leagues – whether they win or lose.”
Apparently following losing teams like the Lions has been ingrained in our DNA for several generations.
The book points out that Detroit was a “respectable size (285,000 in 1900) before the automobile appeared,” and had a diversified economy. That changed as auto production became the main job of Detroiters, and the factories became focal points of the city.
The WPA writers in the 30s saw it this way: “Where, then, are all the people? A vantage point near one of the large factories at the end of a working shift will provide the answer. Here is the most exciting spectacle in all Detroit. The exodus of the crowd from a big football game is as nothing compared with it. Shrieking whistles signal the end of the work period, and the factory disgorges a veritable flood that fills the streets almost from curb to curb. It is a flood, not of men, solely, but of automobiles, and on the steering wheel of each are the calloused hands of a workingman.”
As for glitz, Detroit never had much, the WPA writers noted. “…it lacks something of the bloom and glitter of such cities as New York or Chicago. ‘Doing the night spots’ consists mainly of making the rounds of beer gardens, burlesque shows, and all-night movie houses.”
If you substituted the words “top-less bars” and around the clock “cable TV”, it would still be an accurate look at Detroit.
If we’re to diversify our state’s economy, we have a lot of work to do, and a nearly century old factory culture to change.

Thanksgiving for a Jeep

2009-11-25T07:51:00.000-08:00

As we take time out from our work on Thanksgiving to be with friends and family, we count our blessings, children, grandchildren, parents, friends, our faith, having a job, but this year as we give thanks I’ll secretly be thinking of my 2001 Jeep Cherokee sitting in my garage.
The black Jeep will be turning 165,000 miles soon, and it’s only now after nine years of ownership that I’m really trying to appreciate it. Over the years, I’ve neglected it, left it mud caked after grouse hunting season, and dusty after trout fishing in the spring and summer.
That changed last spring when I ran into a Chrysler “car guy” while attending a Trout Unlimited banquet in Ann Arbor. He give the Jeep an admiring look, as though it was a lost child, and told me it was the last of the tough Jeeps made during the last year of production at the Toledo plant and had a six-cylinder engine that was made to last. He said it was made for 60 percent off road use, and for 40 percent highway driving. These days the percentages are reversed, which makes me want to hold onto the Cherokee.
His comments give the old buggy a new shine in my eyes, and I took it in for an oil change and washed it. In its shiny condition, it drew an admiring glace from a DNR worker at a State Park toll booth, who said it looked to be in good condition, and that she’d like to buy one like it, and I was prompted into further action. I cleaned the rust off the rims with naval jelly and covered a few rust spots on the rocker panels with black primer.
But even with the new good looks, I still wasn’t certain I’d hang on to it for as long as possible.
Then came the rack. I picked up a paddling guide to research and write for my publisher, and I knew I’d be hoisting a canoe and kayak on and off the top of the Jeep. For years, I’ve just been using the luggage rack, and tying my canoe to the front and back bumpers. The rope burns on the hood have been mounting, although I view them as patina – battle scars, like the squashed bug bodies, which I don’t seem to get rid of.
I bought a new Yakima boat rack that will handle a canoe and a kayak at the same time, and which has clamps that make it unnecessary to tie the boat down – no more scratches on the hood. The rack was a commitment because it wedded me to the Jeep for years to come. That’s because it fits on the rain gutters, a feature most new SUVs don’t have any more. I’d have to buy new parts for the rack system, if I bought a new car, and the new piece of equipment wasn’t cheap.
Although I know it’s not true, I feel I have a rack that’s worth more than my Jeep. That thought led me to decide I’ll be this Jeep’s last owner. That's a wonderfully liberating feeling.
The scratches and dings won't bother me, they’re the patina of my life worn on my Jeep for all to see.

Real travel means letting a trip take us someplace

2009-11-20T09:42:00.001-08:00

“We find after years of struggle that we do not take a trip; a trip takes us.”
John Steinbeck, from Travels with Charley

For years I’ve embarked on outdoor trips such as trout fishing, hunting, backpacking, skiing, and canoeing/kayaking with good reasons for going. I’d plan the trips down to the last detail, even though I knew they wouldn’t turn out the way I envisioned while sitting in my den.
There was always gear to buy. Always more gear. I would check it out to make sure I knew how to use it properly. I’d pack my bags in a way so that I was certain to find the gear when I needed it.
As we all know, those plans veer off course when we encounter our objective, just as we do when we’re hunting for grouse in a new woods. Over the years, I’ve given up the idea of staying on course, although I still make my detailed plans in the den. It’s a habit by now.
I’ve come to the realization that getting lost is a good thing. And being by yourself makes it a better experience. For once, you can’t blame your spouse for the mess you’re in. It’s only when you’re lost or when nothing goes according to plan that you actually learn something.
Of course there are different kinds of travel. No, you don’t want to get lost while going to grandmother’s house for Thanksgiving dinner, the kids will get bored and relatives will be waiting to eat, and you’ll have to embarrassingly try to explain how you got lost when you’ve been there hundreds of time.
As for business travel, you’re shuttled from airports to hotels, and back again. That’s not travel at all. There are also the packaged trips on cruise liners or to a destination resort. You’re usually with somebody, and there’s little chance to wander by yourself.
Real travel is when you have no timetables, obligations or routines to maintain, for it is only then that you can slow down and really look around.
One late winter I had the urge to see the South, the South I knew as a kid during the 1950s, and used the excuse of attending a relative’s wedding in Arkansas, so I packed up my Jeep, and hit the road alone. I got off the freeway and zig zagged through the Ozarks, and found a bit of what I remembered.
At one point during the day, there was a dog standing in the middle of the road and it wouldn’t move until I honked my horn several times. There was little traffic on the maze of Ozark roads which tend to follow valleys, and don’t stick to the normal north-south, east-west grid, so I could drive slowly and check out the mostly abandoned farmsteads. These days we see out buildings of farms as quaint, but in reality each had a specific, practical purpose, and I wished my father, who was from Arkansas, was with me, because he knew their uses.
I saw a few mules in a barnyard, and later a man walking a lonely high country road carrying a cross that said: “Jesus Saves.” I wondered who the sign was aimed at, as there was no traffic. Was I the only sinner around? I took it as a message aimed at me.
Another time while fly-fishing in the Upper Peninsula, I crawled out of a remote spot on the Fox River and saw a truck parked near mine. They were the only two vehicles around.
Its owner was looking at burned pine stumps, of which there were thousands in the cut over, burned out forest land of the central U.P. I’ve wondered why the forests didn’t regenerate over the nearly hundred years since they’ve been cut. The stumps still have the axe marks made by long-dead lumber jacks.
Midwesterners aren’t an effusive people, particularly the Finns who populate the U.P., and who tend to look at their feet when they’re forced to make conversation. Whether the guy was a Finn or not, he followed the model, and we exchanged a few words. He was from Escanaba, and was wandering around looking for a particular stump that he and his step-father used 20 years ago to cook a meal when fishing.
We chatted for a while, and he went on his way, looking for more stumps and I headed back to the stream for more fishing. I thought about his seemingly impossible task, and the futility of it. Was he telling the truth? Why was he really there?
Then as I made my seeming one hundredth cast into the bend of a river, hoping for a trout to rise and thought: “What am I really doing here? I’m no less ridiculous than the man looking for one stump among thousands.”

Finding a new, old favorite beer

2009-11-16T08:54:00.000-08:00

For more than 30 years I’ve been a devotee of beers from the Upper Midwest, usually ones from Wisconsin and Minnesota. My relationship started on fly-fishing trips to the Upper Peninsula, where I’d stop at small party stores along U.S. 2 to see what they had to offer.
I discovered Leinenkugel’s during the 1970s when it came in simple, Old School bottles with an Indian maiden on it. The beer was fresh, unpretentious, inexpensive and made to be drunk cold after a day of trout fishing. However, my loyalty has waned in recent years as Leinenkugle’s has become more popular and has adopted fancy labels and joined in the Beer Revolution with different types and flavors.
When the Beer Revolution started, my sons filled our garage beer fridge with all sorts of concoctions that test the notions of what beer really should be – a simple refreshing drink. As a reminder of the excesses of beer makers, I keep a bottle of one of those revolutionaries in garage beer fridge. Even though my two sons have had tons of beer drinking occasions, nobody has ventured to try it.
Least of all not me, I don’t need my beer to be made by Tapist monks from Belgium or to know that the hint of orange in it reminds the brewer of the early morning sunlight in Germany.
There’s a line in Norman McClain’s, A River Runs through It that says it all about beer. It’s a throwaway line that doesn’t drive the plot or characterizations, and it jumps off the page for that reason. To paraphrase it: Life was better when every small town had its own brewery.
McClain must have liked his beer fresh, and I share his enthusiasm. The major brewers push out so much of the stuff that it sits on the shelves for a long time, and is trucked thousands of miles. Smaller, local breweries produce less, and ship it for shorter distances. They also tend to use bottles only, which is the only way beer should be sold.
My relationship with Leinenkugel’s held fast, even as the price increased from $5 to about $8 a six-pack, but is coming to an end with a discovery of Lakemaid Beer from August Shell Brewing Co., of New Ulm Minnesota. I was in quest of a six pack of Linnies during a recent trip to Manistee Michigan when I saw the Lakemaid beer. Upon seeing it was brewed in the Upper Midwest, I bought a six-pack.
It reminded me of what Leinenkugel’s once was – a simple fresh beer. I’ve noticed over the years that as a brand of beer becomes too popular, its quality tends to suffer.
As it turns out Lakemaid is a gimmick beer produced by August Shell Brewing Co. and Rapala, the fishing lure giant. The bottle features a mermaid-like woman and is obviously intended to appeal to anglers. They hooked me. Shell makes the popular Grain Belt beer, along with its own brand, which you don’t often see in Michigan.
Mermaid Beer comes in various types, pilsner, lager, dark lager, pale ale and other. Each type is adorned with an image of a different mermaid for the various species of fish, such as Miss Muskie, Miss Rainbow Trout, Miss Salmon and even a Miss Catfish.
When I returned home to southern Michigan, I unexpectedly found a 12 pack of it in my local store, and quickly purchased it. The clerk told me another customer requested the store carry it, and I was thankful to the stranger. The cost was $12, which is reasonable these days.
I’ll be back for a second round.

A brutal U.P. fly-fishing weekend

2009-11-13T08:03:00.000-08:00

By Jeff Counts
MSJ publisher

So what should you expect in mid-May in the western U.P.? Hopefully the snow has melted in most places and you don’t have to wear fleece under your waders. That’s about all. You don’t expect to do any sunbathing, but you don’t expect to see snow swirling in the air most of the day, with high winds whipping it around. But that’s what we had on a certain Saturday. My guide and fishing complain Chris Gestwicki had one word for it – “brutal.”
It was all of that. Chris knows I love U.P. brook trout fishing and for several years he has been trying to get me to his favorite western U.P. haunts. For various reasons, I couldn’t make it until this year. The western U.P. along the Wisconsin border is a special place for me. It still has some mystery. After more than 35 years of traveling through the state, I can get along without a state map in most areas, but not in the western U.P. when I get disorientated, even though I wrote a travel guide to Michigan.
Time gets warped there because you’re in and out of the Central and Eastern Standard time zones, and the towns look similar and most have the word iron in them Many of the rivers are big sprawling ones like the Escanaba, Paint and Brule, and remind you of ones in the west, river where I have a hard time finding fish. With all my landmarks gone, I was in the hands of Chris, who is one of the few fly fishing guides in the area, and owns the Caddis Shack Fly Shop in Escanaba. The place is a throwback to the old days of fly-fishing, when some shops were operated out of a garage. It’s refreshing to find a shop features that sells nothing but flies, rods, reels, lines and a few other items. There’s no expensive clothing, art objects or trinkets and it’s only open when Chris is around.
Our brutal weekend actually started out fairly gentle. I made the six and a half hour trip from my southeastern Michigan home to Escanaba on a fairly balmy Friday, and in less time than I expected. From his shop/home, Chris drove to one of the Iron towns, and pulled over to the side of the road in the middle of the downtown area and said: “Here we are.”
I looked at him with disbelief. I have this innately held belief that fly-fishing should be done out of the watchful eye of people, preferably as far from town as possible. Part of that belief stems from my not wanting anyone to expose my fly casting abilities to on lookers. It’s like drinking martinis, if I’m going to humiliate myself, it will only be in front of family and friends.
I cast off that old belief fairly quickly. Chris and I rigged up and entered the stream next to the town tavern, when the locals were gathering for the Friday night cocktail hour. I briefly considered joining, figuring I’d have a better time in there than in the river, but I followed Chris to the stream that wound through a park, and past old. frame mill worker homes that looked to belong to the 19th century.
Before I stepped into the river, which was strewn with boulders and large rocks, Chris, who is more than 20 years younger than me, was quickly downstream, and I poked my way along with a newly adopted wading stick. A false pride has kept me from using one, thinking it signaled senior citizen status. But that changed last fall when I took a tumble on the Pere Marquette River while salmon fishing and I accepted one from our host, John Bueter.
It has expanded my fishing range, given me the stability to reach places I normally don’t, and it has save my bad knee a number of times.
To my surprise, a nice caddis hatch was coming off the river, and Chris hooked me up with a few of his specially tied flies for the river. It’s a good thing to have somebody like Chris around when you’re not quite certain about a new river, and what may do well on it. Before knowing Chris, I made several ventures to the Paint River in the western U.P., and was frustrated by my lack of local knowledge.
We caught a few brookies on dries, and it wetted my appetite for the next day. I was tired of using streamers and wet flies; dry fly fishing was the antidote. We then headed out of whatever Iron Town we were in, Chris has sworn me to secrecy, and headed to a back woods cabin in Wisconsin to meet up with the rest of Chris’ crew, mostly Wisconsin guys. Although I had purchased certain adult beverages, I’d forgotten the main ingredient for a trout fishing weekend – beer. Chris told me not to worry. I did, but shouldn’t have.
When we arrived in the camp, there was a fine camp fire going, and plenty of beer flowing, but most of it light beer, which is not to my taste. One of the Wisconsin guys said: “Hey, just look in the back of my truck, I won five cases of Linenkugles at a Trout Unlimited banquet and I can’t get rid of the stuff.”
All I could figure is that if you live in Wisconsin where much of our beer is made, you can get pretty blasé about the stuff. Actually, Leinenkugel’s is my favorite, so I was in beer heaven. All we needed were some brook trout the next day, and I’d consider the weekend as close to a religious experience as I’d ever have.
In the glow of the fire and beer, Chris made a $20 bet that he and I would out fish two of the Wisconsin guys the next day, and we were to count all the fish we caught. In the warmth of the night and under the influence of the Leinenkugel’s, it made sense to me.
But that night it rained hard, and when I stepped outside shortly after dawn to answer the call of nature, I felt a chill in the air, and saw what looked like snow swirling in the air. I tried to make myself think it was ashes from the fire, but then I looked at a thermometer and it read 37 degrees. I went back to my bunk for a while, hoping that in another hour the sun would come out and brighten my spirits.
It never did that day, and the snow was still making its unscheduled appearance when we finally hit the bunks for the night. What occurred between dawn and dark was brutal, and as with any such fishing venture, it ended early and in a tavern.
We did fish though. We hit a tributary to the Paint River, a lovely looking stream. And as we went to the river, the fishing bet was still on. After four or five hours, all bets were off, and we were frozen stiff. Luckily, I’d remembered to bring my neoprene gloves, so my hands still worked at the end of the day. The others weren’t so lucky. One guy, half my age, and a fish guide himself, said his hands were so cold that he couldn’t tie on a fly. Chris went into the river, and had to spend an hour in the truck with the heat going full blast to keep hypothermia away. I actually couldn’t stay in the tuck, it was so stifling hot.
But I had my own casualty, a lost spool for my fly reel. My hands were so cold that I apparently didn’t properly zip up my vest while wading, and the spool went missing. All this for no fish. We’ve all had days like this, and they turn anglers into philosophers. The question asked is – Why? Why am I out doing this? Some fancy fishing writers come up with words that border on the poetic, others of us quote John Voelker and some just stand there freezing. I simply use my Midwestern pragmatism. “What else am I going to be doing? I’m not going to bring peace to the Mideast, find a cure for cancer or engineer a new economic boom, so I may just as well be standing in a river. It beats watching talking heads on TV.
That night at the camp fire, there was plenty of Leinenkugel’s, no fish, except some walleye one of the guys had been foresighted enough to bring, and there was not talk of the $20 bet on the number of fish caught. I was relieved.

Late fall travel reading

2009-11-11T12:28:00.000-08:00

My backyard was pretty frosty this morning, so I didn't get out to rake the leaves. I considered other tasks, including cleaning hunting gear and putting it away. Instead I picked up a book, "Travels with Charley" by John Steinbeck, the author of "The Grapes of Wrath." I read the book long ago, but decided to revisit it. It's a delight. I've caught up with Steinbeck since I first read it. I'm now in late middle age, like the author was when he took his three-month long trip through America to get back into contact with real people, and maybe to see the country again for the last time, as he was in failing health.
When we pick up a book at various stages of our own lives, we bring something new to it because of our own experiences.
When I read the introduction this morning, a sentence jumped out at me:
"We find after years of struggle that we do not take a trip; a trip takes us."
After reading that simple sentence, I thought of a dozen places I would have liked to have been then, the Arkansas Ozarks, on the Shores of Lake Superior, Key West, Arizona, Montana, Scotland, Norway and others. I thought about where those places would take me.
We all have our lists, and dreams, and like any really good writer, Steinbeck gives you the solid words to hang your dreams on.
Steinbeck was ahead of his time. The trip took place in 1962, and to take it he had a firm put together what we would now consider an RV, but which was then fairly uncommon.
For any traveler, it's a good winter read.

A vist to Dublin's country store

2009-11-10T07:45:00.000-08:00

This the in between time in Michigan, the salmon runs are done, and the grouse and woodcock season is on the wane. It's too chilly for a day at the beach, so it's a good time to wander around Northern Michigan, just checking things out.
On a recent Sunday, my son and I drove around Manistee County, where he lives, and checked out some trout streams for next spring, and look at some good grouse cover. It was a "pretty day," as my father from Arkansas would say, sunny skies and temps in the 60s. A gift from God in Novemember.
We made a stop in the town of Dublin, near Wellston, and visited the Dublin Country Store, which my son said had a large selection of jerky. Being a fan of the stuff, I couldn't resist the stop. I expected a small jerky shop, but instead stumbled into a classic country store, something out of the 19 century, but with 21st century goods.
There was everything from clothing, to food stuffs, hardware, shotguns and rifles, ammunition and even plumbing and heating fixtures. There's also a bakery and a deli. The store also sells alcohol. If you're a rustic person, like me, there was pretty much anything you needed.
And of course, there was jerky, all kinds, from wildgame like elk and venison to beef, chicken and turkey. We tried the tradtional venion. It was great. I like the softer version of jerky, having tired of trying to chew on the dry stuff and challenging my teeth. And that's what the Dublin store offers.
It would be a great stop during rifle deer season.

For more information, and for online sales of jerky, go to http://www.dublinstore.com/

Locations: The main store is on Hoxeyville Road near the town of Wellston. The store has another site in the Grand Rapids area at 4763 Wilson, Grandville, MI.

Support Michigan book stores

2009-11-07T06:10:00.000-08:00

We listened to John Grishom on the Today Show recently, and a brought up a good point -- book prices. This guy doesn't need to worry about money, he sells millions of books, but he did a good deed by pointing out that readers need to support their local book stores, or they will be gone. Local book stores employ local people, rent buildings and pay taxes in Michigan, online stores don't. In Michigan we have are own local nationwide chain, Borders, which has its headquarters in Ann Arbor. They are worth supporting, along with Barnes & Noble, which has many stores in our state.

Finding a new campground

2009-11-02T09:41:00.000-08:00

On my annual fall grouse hunt in the eastern Upper Peninsula, a companion and I spent a few hours exploring instead of hunting. It paid off. Like others who are passionate about a pursuit, I'm often too single minded searcing for grouse in the fall and trout in the warmer months, and I miss looking at my surroundings.
We were hunting near the Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore between Munsing and Grand Marais, along the Lake Superior shoreline.
We tried an old hunting ground near Melstrand, but found it was no longer productive, so as we drove along, we decided to check out Little Beaver Lake. It was a real find. There are about eight campsites, all with a view of the lake. They are set up for tent camping, so don't even try getting an RV of any kind on the sites. Each has a fire pit, a soft sandy place to set up a tent, a picnic table and a lantern hook. There are outhouses nearby and water. The National Park Service deserve credit here for its thoughtful planning.
Little Beaver Lake is connected to the larger Beaver Lake. Anglers and paddlers could spend a week camped there and paddling the lake. There are panfish, pike and trout in the lake. There's a small boat launch.
I'm currently working on a new guide book for The Countryman Press, A Paddler's Guide to Michigan, due out in the spring of 2011, and plan on including the site in the book.

Fall color in southeastern Michigan

2009-10-21T09:17:00.001-07:00

It's time to revive the Sunday afternoon drive, and with the Lions playing the way they do, you're not missing much by being away from home. In the 1950s, when the Lions won their last championship, they were worth watching, but the broadcasts were blacked out in the Detroit area, even when the stadium was sold out. My father was a dedicated fan, so we would take a Sunday drive to Mason, near Lansing, where we could watch the game at the home of a relative.
Those outing were fun, and since they cam in the fall, we had a color tour every couple of weeks.
It's unfortunate that southern Michigan doesn't often get the attention it deserves in fall, so I've come up with an Old Fashioned Sunday drive that takes you through some classic Midwestern towns in Washtenaw and Lenawee counties that haven't been spoiled by suburban sprawl. Dexter, Chelsea, Manchester and Tecumseh have retained their 19th century feel.
Take I-94 west out of the Detroit area to Dexter and get off the freeway. The first place to visit is the Dexter Cider Mill, 3685 Central. It's been in business for 120 years, and is thought to be the oldest continuous such mill in the state.
From there, head west on M-12 to Chelsea. Check out the Jiffy Mix mill downtown, and the main street shops and resturants. The Common Grill there is a top resturant destination. If you're looking to hike, take M-52 north to the Pinckeny Recreation Area, where there are numerious trails. If you're just up for a ride, take M-52 south to Manchester and then to Clinton, which is just east of M-52 on U.S. 12 From there head south to Tecumseh.
One lunch tip: Try the Tea Garden Cafe in downtown Techumseh. It's a break for pub food, and there are several authentic British dishes on the menu. And make sure to try the tea.

Fall storm watching

2009-10-17T06:12:00.001-07:00

The winds of late October and early November are nearly upon us and there are no better places to watch the start of winter than along the Lakes Michigan and Superior coast lines, with their northern and western exposures to Mother Nature.
To get a good glimpse, try visiting Whitefish Point in the Upper Peninsula, just north of Paradise.It's about 1 1/2 hours north of the Mackinac Bridge.
The last ship to wreck in the Great Lakes, the Edmund Fitzgerald, sank in Whitefish Bay on Nov. 10, 1975, with all hands on board. A good stop is the Shipwreck Museum at Whitefish Point. The museum is open through late October and is the ceterpiece, with its exhibits on Great Lakes shipping, diving and artifacts. A display devoted to he Fizgeerald can also be viewed. A lighthouse at the location can also be toured. Cost: $10 for adults, $7 for children and $28 for families.
Tahquamenon Falls is nearby, and you could make a day between the falls and Whitefish Point.
Paradise is the nearest town, and it's located on Lake Superior, so you can do some weather watching from there.
The best place to stay is the Best Western Lake Front Inn, which offers lake views from its rooms. There is an indoor pool, sauna and hot tub.
The best place to eat is the Tahquamenon Falls Brewery & Pub on M-123 near Paradise. Food ranges from pub fare to steaks and whitefish. Prices, $15-$20.

Destination: Wilderness State Park

2009-10-08T07:18:00.000-07:00

Fall colors are hitting their peak this weekend in the western Upper Peninsula and the Keweenaw Peninsula, but for many of us in southern Michigan, it’s a long drive to those areas. But the next best thing to being there is a trip to Wilderness State Park on the shores of Lake Michigan just west of Mackinaw City.
There the colors are about 50 percent. The 10,512-acre park stretches along the shoreline for miles and is a good place for kayaking, if the waters aren’t too rough. The park offers 250 modern campsites in tow units, six rustic cabins and three rustic bunkhouses for rent. The cabins and bunkhouses are often rented far in advance, so check with the state before you go. The state park system maintains a good Web site for reservations, www.midnrreservations.com .
Take along your bike. There are 16 miles of mountain biking trails in the park. A good bike trip would be between Mackinaw City and the park. The road carries little traffic.
You can either stay at the park or in Mackinaw City. Check out the Deer Head Inn, 109 Henry St., in the city. It’s a bit hard to find, but worth the look. There are plenty of motels in town, if that’s your choice.
Our top restaurant choice is Audie’s on Nicolet Street. There are actually two restaurants here, a family room, with an upscale menu, and a bar, which offers pub fare. You’ll find meals unusual for the area, including herb-encrusted lamb, duck and stuffed morel mushrooms.

Supporting Michigan farmers

2009-10-06T07:23:00.000-07:00

As a Willie Nelson fan, I've always taken his advice seriously, and when he appeared on CNN news recently to talk about his annual Farm Aid concert I listened intently. His message was: Buy your produce directly from local farmers as a way to support family farms.
During a recent drive along M-22 between Manistee and Frankfort, I looked at the heavily ladened apple trees, and wondered why our local supermarkes bring apples in from the West Coast. It's a waste of fuel, especially when we have apples in abundance grown by Michigan farmers.
We stopped at a roadside stand and loaded up on apples and pears, and I couldn't help sampling them during the ride. The apples were crisp, not like the ones from the grocery store, which were probably picked green and shipped 2,000 miles. I was eating apples that matured on the tree, not in a box car or semi-truck.
Unfortunately I live in suburban Detroit, where there are few roadside stands. The efficent master plans of our suburbs have a way of wiping out such stands, one of the few free maket place for farmers.
In the Detroit area, we do have the Eastern Market, and a few suburbs have clung to their farmers' markets on Saturdays. Ann Arbor is a bright spot, with its Saturday market.
On a recent visit to Westborn Market in Livonia, I was pleasently surprised to see Michigan apples and tomatoes on display along side produce from Washington state. I bought the Michigan tomatoes.
From now on, I'm going to buy Michigan produce when I can, and shop in stores that sell it.

Michigan's Front Porch Towns

2009-10-05T07:06:00.000-07:00

The front porch has gone the way of the outhouse in most suburbs these days, with family activity relegated to the back yard deck. We hide ourselves in an enclosed yard, often in a subdivision with no sidewalks. We end up closing ourselves off from our neighbors and the community.
But there are some towns in Michigan that still have front porch communities. Recently I spent the weekend in Frankfort on Lake Michigan in a small, nearly 100 year old cottage with a modest, but adequate front porch. It brought back delightful memories. I spent about 20 years living in another old lumber town, Bay City, in a house with a covered porch.
While hanging out on the porch in Frankfort, I met about a dozen people who were walking on the sidewalk. Unlike the suburbs, front porch towns don’t have large lawns separating the house from the sidewalk, so it’s pretty natural to engage with folks.
For many of us, we dream of having a house “Up North,” and that vision is often a remote cottage on a lake or a river. My Frankfort trip made me reconsider that dream, and I now would like a simple cottage in a small Great Lakes town.
As for a view of the lake, we had one less than a five minute walk from the beach on Lake Michigan. We could also walk to downtown restaurants, taverns and stores. It was a real feeling of freedom, not to be tied to a vehicle.

Canoe vs. kayak

2009-09-15T05:34:00.000-07:00

One of the best ways to see the fall color changes is in a canoe or kayak, so I wasn't surprised when I picked up my daily paper and found a story about the increase of paddling trips in Michigan.
Paddling lakes or rivers gets you into the landscape in a way that just driving doesn't.
September is one of my favorite months to be out on the water. You've got a little summer and a little fall, and usually fewer people around.
But the newspaper story got me thinking about what's the best boat to use. I'm a dedicated canoeist, but I'm looking at buying a kayak. Both have their good points.
Kayaks offer paddlers better agility than canoes, but then again, canoes are more versatile and offer more room. I also like the stability of a canoe for fishing.
My wife likes going paddling with me, and we both fit into one boat. It's certainly less expensive to buy one boat than two, and it's also less of a hassle to slip one canoe off the top of my vehicle than take two off.
My solution to the dilemma is simple: Have one of each. With a good car top carrier, you can handle both a canoe and kayak on top.
Then you can take your pick.

The Sandhill Crane Experience

2009-09-09T11:32:00.000-07:00

A small flock of gangling-looking birds were walking near the shore of a small southern Michigan lake I was paddling on a recent Sunday. At first I thought they were herons, which often are found along the edges of small lakes and ponds, but as my craft glided closer to shore, I heard the distinctive squawk of Sandhill Cranes, a rare prehistoric looking migratory bird.
I’d seen them before on remote Upper Peninsula lakes, but never before so close to the heavily populated areas of southeastern Michigan, and on a little-used, undeveloped lake. I felt like I was in the Upper Peninsula instead of being surrounded by millions of people.
While the cranes aren’t on the Endangered Species list, they are fairly rare. There are only about 800 nesting pairs in Michigan, with the population split between the eastern Upper Peninsula and the Ann Arbor-Chelsea area of Washtenaw County.
According to the State Department of Natural Resources, Sandhill Cranes aren’t very sensitive to the intrusion of humans. That trait nearly lead to their extinction in the 20th century, when they were hunted as game birds. The best way to approach the cranes is by canoe or kayak, because of their silence.
The Washtenaw County lakes where the cranes are found are very accessible, and are less than a ten minute drive from the busy I-94 corridor between Chicago and Detroit. The drive times are about three and a half hours from Chicago, and under an hour from Detroit.
Take either the Dexter or Chelsea exits. Both are quintessential, small Midwestern towns where the main streets are lined with small shops and restaurants.

On Mill Lake, a paddler may encounter a few anglers in small boats, but on Four Mile Lake, in the fall there will be a few duck hunters. They’re usually only hunting in the early morning or evening. Both lakes can be paddled around in about two hours.
If you want to see the cranes, take it slow and stay 20-30 yards from shore. Although the cranes have distinctive markings, they do blend in to their surroundings. Get a bird book and make yourself familiar with the markings, and also with that of herons. Both species look similar and are found in the shallow waters near shore. Herons are either white or have a blue-grey look to them. Also, herons tend to be more solitary, and you will see lone birds hunting for fish. Cranes are more often seen in either nesting pairs or in family groups.
Paddlers will need to bring their own canoes or kayaks. There are no boat rentals on the lakes. The boat launches at both lakes are easy to negotiate and there is parking. Mill Lake has an outhouse, but there are no facilities at Four Mile Lake.
Mill Lake is in the Waterloo Recreation Area, which is operated by the state Department of Natural Resources. A State Park sticker is required.