Welcoming Winter in the Yurt

What a wonderful weekend to bring people together and welcome the Winter's first birth.

I had invited a small group of friends to join me this weekend at the Muskegon State Park "Yurt" to partake in a ritual that is near to my heart. I had put this date in the calendar months ago, but only on high hopes; little did I know that it would actually turn out to be a pretty terrific time.

First glimpses of wonder

JP-Lounging hard

Strike a pose/ while everyone was looking for my lost go-pro/ the journey continued.

A little guidance led to some unplanned symmetry. 

A Sunny November--To the Lakeshore

Woke up on this Sunday, Nov 15th, morning with no clear plans, rested and curious about what the free hours of the day could bring in terms of unfinished projects. I had finally repaired a front blinker light on the car that had been damaged since last winter and was eager to continue the momentum on other projects. A quick step outside the backdoor around 9:30 am revealed there would be no time for such ambitious ideas, it was way to amazing out to do anything utile at home. The air had a slight whiff of South breeze and my jonesin' bones knew that this is the most difficult time to make a decision.

I quickly threw all my kites in the car, a couple wetsuits, boiled some eggs, found a crumb of molded cheese, a piece of beef jerky, made some quick coffee, and had the brilliant idea to circumvent my actual plans with my hidden plans to take the bike for "one last ride" of the season. Packed the bike with a foil-kite and harness (✔️) and threw goodies (brewskies optional, though in reserve) and a jacket in for the long haul (~50miles) to the Lake, depending on the lack of a path chosen. And what a great choice that was.

Let me tell you, everything they tell you in movies about bikes and the open road is partially true and partially you, but they complement each other well. After brief initial conflicts whether to dedicate the whole day to such a trip, I put the pack on and began heading West. That was about the plan. Muskegon at some point. Fields in the middle; some open roads and scenic winds and bends slightly required (✔️). 

Dang. Like and endless meditation. Every breath, a new smell of a changing countryside, every bit as pungent as expected, though quickly changing to a new olfactory experience. The sunshine tasted beautiful. After a quick rendezvous with the service roads off the highway, spanning views of open fields, distinct Allendale smells, and this relentless Nov sun, my mood began to match my surroundings and the bike. I began to incorporate with the machine, matching our speed to our moods and the inspirations of the landscape. That was cool. I'm a newbie to all of this, but there's something thrilling and inherent in the experience that becomes clear to the rider who allows all sensation to become.

And that it did and the ride was glorious and intense and boring and diverse. A few rights north to tack some ground, a few lefts West to cut some angles and I found myself on unfamiliar and familiar roads of the M46 corridor. I like the unknowing part of the ride. After a brief spurt where I learned to fly (ET phone home?) I gave in to my sensations, as bewildering and deceiving as they were with wind playing by my ears and speed denying me trust in my perceptions; I became them. At that rate, what use is rationality; all must become instinct. I found an old familiar road, that by accident had become a summer occurrence on the way North to the Musk River. We had a camp spot off of there from the Spring and I had lots of deep memories ironically from this relatively 'new' area. I climbed the steep bends, trusting each curve as if I'd made it, then reminding myself that I didn't. Saw wide expanses of marsh, stopped for a stroll and continued West. 

Packed the Yamaha FZ09 - at the Muskegon Winter Sports Complex 

I arrived at the Lakeshore of Muskegon State Park roughly an hour & 1/2 later, with several scenic breaks. The waves were waving, though I walked the harbor and talked to ma for a while about the difficulties that life often finds us in. I reminded myself to remember that and enjoy this. 

Took a stroll to the the goods. Parked at the winter sports complex (after all, the scope of the trip was partially to check out the Yurt I had booked for the next weekend) and hiked around for a while, by the luge and upper hills, as I had done in this are many times before. Always a favorite. 

Small vernal pond at a low spot between the foredunes.

Snapped some pics of the Yurt and headed to the beach. Gorgeous. Set up the hammock, walked, dabbled, watched the sun set, shed some layers, dipped. Nov in Lake Michigan, who would have thought?

Summer Solstice on South Manitou Isl.

South Manitou Island 

June 19-23, 2015

Looking North from the boathouse towards the docks.

View of the Francisco Morazan shipwreck, permanently docked on the island since 1960.

Top of the Dunes Trail; fog, heavy, rolling in like clouds over the tree line.

Early Summer ephemerals in full bloom. June 21st, on top of the dunes.

Algonquin Backcountry Snowkiting/ Camping Adventure

Spring Break! What does one do--fly to warmer places, right? Well, sort of....

This trip brought me back to my childhood heaven of Algonquin Provincial Park. Nestled in the center of Ontario, Canada's vast interconnected wilderness of lakes, Algonquin Park has always been an escape for me. In my teenage years, it formed the basis of most of my dreams. The summer that I spent working in the Park at Camp Tamakwa was one of the best I've ever had. Canoeing in the solitude of glassy, clear lakes, spending days basking on the massive granite rocks, fishing and wandering through the backcounrty was as much as any kid needed. But that was Summer. Winters in Algonquin can get a bit heavy, and this one in particular was no slouch. It dumped much snow on the area, and kept that piled high as temperatures in the 2013-2014 winter stayed consistently below freezing across most of the northern latitudes of the Midwest and Canada. In mid April, ice on the big lakes (away from the slush of shore) exceeded 1ft (+30cm)  and snow ranged from 1-2ft (60cm) in most parts of the forest that I traveled.

I spent 4 days in the backcountry, exploring the woods and lakes with the help of snowshoes, skis, a sled, my backpack(s) and a kite. My winter exploration took me from the start at Mew Lake campground, across the Lake of Two Rivers and down the old railway trail to the southern border of Whitefish Lake approaching Rock Lake. The weather was terrific, mostly sunny and 50's - 60's F during the day (~10*C) and down to mid 20's F at night (slightly below ~ 0*C).

Tuesday April 8th, Day 1: Getting started among some early morning snowfall @ Tea Lake near Hwy 60.

Camp for the first night, on the river following Pog Lake.

After a long day of backtracking (unintentional exploration), snowkiting across a frozen lake, and beating the rail-trail on snowshoes for a few hours, this slice of open area beside the river was a welcomed sight as the sun began to fade behind the forest ridges.

Day 2: My sled was repacked and ready to tow on the rail-trail after a friendly visit from a park ranger (the only person I saw in the backcountry, on duty at a nearby dam) telling me to "politely move" my campsite to a new location as it was not far enough away from the regulated distance from a body of water. We had a lengthy discussion about my situation the night before and plans for the day, but he insisted and was optimistic about potential sites farther along the route. This made for another day of hauling the sled and finding a new place to lay out for the night. The day was beautiful and warm, causing a lot of melting (and sled tipping) along lake shores and on open parts of the trail. I must have tipped the sled 5 times in a minute before I got fed up and dragged it by hand.

An old railway bridge crossing a marsh creek at the narrow, upper end of Whitefish Lake.

The trail, in most forest sections, was cool and well packed with snow. I walked through this scenery for a few hours before coming to the wide portion of Whitefish Lake, where I busted out the kite and skis and tried to cut down on the travel time on foot.

 It was not an easy day however, and the location of the old lumber mill that was recommended as a place to camp near Whitefish Lake was not to be found. This made for an uncomfortable evening of searching for a place to stay as the sun was nearing the horizon and into the late-twilight of the evening. I settled near a field of milkweed, "guided" by two moths that crossed my path in the warm, early-season dance for mates.

Day 3: Hard-going: no photos on camera.

Day 4: After the night at the Pow-Wow shelter.

Back to the Dam where I had camped the first night. This time the trek was a little easier, having already encountered this trail and knowing I had to be back at the car with some daylight left in the bag. I took a lunch of hard-boiled eggs, pork shoulder, salami and cheese that I had saved up for a hefty snack.

Autumn on the road.

September at Muskegon State Park

Sleeping Bears and Smoked Fish!!

The end of summer brought its bounty, after a long and very difficult few months on the West side of Michigan. Liz and I took a trip back to Frankfort and explore the area once again. There is nothing like it, and the stories and memories get swallowed and carried away by the waves, held by the lake 'till the next return. That is the nature of love, it is a shared experience. 

Swell on the Frankfort Pier.

We spent two nights on S. Manitou Island on our transition into Leland to meet my parents and brother for what would be for me, another week in the Leelenau. I drove Liz back home and in the same day completed the ride back to Leland to hang out with my folks. There were no complaints about being there, but in the entire two weeks, I had only gotten one kite session in (the last morning on S. Manitou). Finally, on the last evening in Leland, the wind cranked out of the North, and I got everything that I had waited for, waves, warm winds and a sunset to match. This area holds it's secrets tight, and the only way to be let in is to believe in its uniqueness. Thank you again Lake Michigan!