It’s been an interesting August. Well, more specifically, it’s been an interesting two weeks. I’ve been far removed from the city and closer to the other half of my lifestyle that I don’t get to enjoy the way in which I want to. Additionally, I did it all without my camera (though it was in the car at all times). The same way in which from time to time I will quit something for a short period of time, such as coffee, alcohol, television, meat, food, to prove I don’t need it, I’ll ‘quit’ the need to photograph everything. It really forces me to burn the scene into my brain and remember all the little things. No need to go back and rely on a photograph to tell me about it. It keeps me inline.
On the fifth of August I loaded up my camp gear and headed for the Manistee River in a section that runs through the little town of Brethren, Michigan; the childhood home of James Earl Jones, current population estimated around 1000. I was up that way for a guys weekend, more specifically, a bachelor party. This close group of friends prefer mother nature to that of a bar. The camp which we stayed was a joint family estate in a river valley on a quarter mile of river frontage, used as a hunting camp. It’s very remote and you can pretty much do what you want and no one will ever hear you. It’s not uncommon for several types of guns to show up, per person, on any given visit, regardless of what’s in season; guns always need to be sighted in. Their family has owned the cabin and land for almost 50 years and it still has to original structure on it, though modified with time. It was pretty crowded, plus there was a lot of beer drinking and meat eating – so for the sake of my olfactory system, I set up my tent 100 meters from the cabin on the bank.
On Saturday afternoon, about 15-20 of us piled as many canoes and kayaks as we could onto 3 vehicles and went over to Tippy Dam and took the five hour float about 10 miles down the river right back to camp. One of the best Trout fisheries in the country, it’s also a beautiful location for being nowhere. Over that period we crossed under maybe two roads and saw maybe 2 cabins. We stopped several time to swim and to eat lunch. Every time we stopped I went to the middle of the river and attempted to swim up stream and match the current, creating my own “infinity” lap pool. It was pretty fun. The highlight came when someone spotted a bald eagle about 40 ft up perched on a branch hanging over the river. We all turned our vessels around and paddled “infinity” style and stared. It was just as enthralled with us as we were with it. Those really are magnificent animals.
The nights were beautiful, crisp and clear. My body heat creates just enough warmth in the tent for perfect summer sleeping – stripped down to my FTLs, I tucked my feet only into my Cat’s Meow and I was good to go. Friday and Saturday night I fell asleep to the sounds of the Manistee softly going by.
Saturday night brought a low temp which created a fog in the valley. As I slipped away from the camp fire late into the evening early in the morning and crawled into my tent, I looked back at where I had just come. My footprints were visible in the fresh dew on the grass, which caused my eye to follow the path back it’s source – I’m glad it did. The cabin, fire, and my tent, created a strait line. The cabin had a lamp perched high on a post that glowed bright white, and someone had just thrown another pallet on the fire creating a good six foot flame. Combined with the fog rolling in, it created a double-tiered double-colored vibrant spectrum of light bursts cascading upward and outward. Everything other than the flame was still and quiet. It was eerily beautiful. I’ve seen this effect created before over water with breaking storm clouds at sunset, but I had never seen it at night, or this close. I stared at it for as long as I could before my lids grew heavy and I tipped backwards onto my Thermarest.
On Sunday late afternoon, another weekender and I opted for the long way home and headed for a quick overnight backpack trip into Nordhouse Dunes Wilderness Area halfway between the towns of Ludington and Manistee. It sits right on Lake Michigan, the fifth largest lake in the world. The 3,500 acre national park boasts 4 miles of uninterrupted, undeveloped, all natural coastline with a horizon sight-line that runs 180 degrees left to right – clearly giving you definition of the earth’s shape. On a clear day you can’t tell where blue sky becomes blue water. The only difference between this view and that off the coast of California, is the obnoxious salt spray that eats at everything (fyi, the state of Michigan has more coastline than California). I set up my tent right on a sand bluff at the edge of the tree line with a view over the lake.
After 24 hours of hiking dunes and forest (we did roughly 10 miles total), swimming, cooking food on sticks over the fire, pooping in the woods, and filtering water out of Lake Michigan, we packed up and headed to our respective homes. I rolled into good ol’ Wyoming, MI Monday about 6:30 pm ready for a real shower and some attention from my wife (read: 72 hours in the woods with nothing but other men).
On Wednesday evening I had the car all packed up again and we headed for Old Mission Peninsula, a one mile wide strip of land that protrudes 22 miles out from land, creating East Bay and West Bay of the Grand Traverse Bay in northwest Michigan. My in-laws have had a family cottage on the water there since 1948, three miles from the lighthouse. We escape there quite often. We proceeded to do nothing out of the ordinary for the next five nights: boat to restaurants on the water, drink cocktails on the deck watching the sunset over Leelanau Peninsula, boat to the swimming hole, jump off the dock, play bocce ball and bean bags, ride bikes through the orchards, lay on the beach, catch lake trout, eat fresh salmon, rescue stranded water vessels lost in the bay, go on a wine tasting tour, explore the micro-brew, eat truffle-salt french fries, eat s’mores over the camp fire, catch giant snapping turtles and poke ’em with sticks, buy smoked fish from native americans, you know, all the usual stuff.
Once again, we rolled back into our home at about 10 pm Monday evening. It is now Thursday night at 8 pm and I have no idea where this week has gone. Sitting back and thinking about all the places and activities I was able to experience in the last 14 days, I find myself very fortunate and thankful that A) I am part of this great state and the adventures it offers and B) that I know how to enjoy all these amenities that are right here in my backyard. To experience all this, my farthest drive was 2.5 hours. I’m pretty grateful for that.
You know what’s even better? I get to do it all over again tomorrow. That bachelor party two weeks ago? The wedding is in Traverse City this Saturday – and I’m photographing it.
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