Time to Comment on Your Favorite Trail

Before you head upnorth to enjoy your favorite trail, you might want to take the time to leave a comment on the pending changes that will come with ORV use in 2018 as a result of Public Act 288. In the latest MichiganTrailMaps.com Trail Talk blog, Jim DuFresne says now it the time you need to voice your opinion during the public comment period of this important bill that will open state forest roads to ORV use in the northern half of the Lower Peninsula.

Heading up to our beloved Porkies this summer? Our newest guidebook is out and now available through the MichiganTrailMaps.com eshop. We also produced a companion trail map that is full color and printed on both sides of 24 by 18-inch waterproof paper. Like the guide book it’s available in the eshop and together the two are all you need for a great trek in the Porkies.

 

 

By Jim DuFresne

The first time I hiked Trout Lake Pathway in Gladwin County was in the late 1980s when off-road vehicle use was exploding throughout the woods of Northern Michigan. The area looked like a war zone.

Jim DuFresne

Jim DuFresne

There were renegade trails everywhere in the woods, entire hillsides were devoid of vegetation and turned into scramble areas. Rows of wooden posts were embedded in the ground to keep ORVers out of the day-use area and away from the swimming beach. They looked like anti-tank barriers from a World War II movie.

The end result of rampant, uncontrolled ORV use was a law that said trails and forest roads were closed to such motorized activities unless posted open and the creation of a 3,600-mile off-road vehicle trail system across the state.

Last fall the rules were changed when Gov. Rick Snyder signed into law Public Act 288. The act stated that state forest roads would be open to ORV use unless posted close and required the Department of Natural Resources to take an inventory of all such roads to provide a comprehensive map.

The DNR is currently inventorying state forest roads throughout Michigan. But since the U.P. already allows ORV usage on state forest roads and there are far fewer of them in the southern half of the Lower Peninsula, this new act is really centered on the northern half of the Lower Peninsula.

That region of the state is home to 14,000 miles of state forest roads and some of the most popular non-motorized trails in Michigan, like the Munice Lakes Pathway in the Pere Marquette State Forest, and long-distance gems like the North Country Trail and the 82-mile High Country Pathway.

ORVers will not be allowed on the trails and you hope – or pray – that their sport has matured enough that those who participate in it respect the “closed” signs that every foot path will surely have posted at its trailhead.

Public Act 288 would open state forest roads to ORVs unless the road is posted close to such use.

Public Act 288 would open state forest roads to ORVs unless the road is posted close to such use.

The problem are the forest roads that cross pathways or when a trail briefly follows one. Or even the dirt roads that lie within sight of a trail which is the case of the Pine Valley Pathway in Lake County. On a quiet afternoon you’re enjoying a trek through the woods when suddenly a string of ORVers go ripping past you just 20 or 30 yards away.

Say good bye to that forested serenity and any wildlife in the area.

This bill was passed, it’s law and beginning in 2018 all state forest roads in the northern half of the Lower Peninsula will be open to ORV use unless designated closed by the DNR. And that’s going to result in an increase number of ORVers because there is a big difference – no, there’s a huge difference – between closed unless posted open and open unless posted close.

But Public Act 288 did provide an opportunity for input on what roads and two-tracks should be closed to ORVs. If the hiking-backpacking-mountain biking communities ever took the time to voice their concerns and opinions at public hearings or with emails or letters, this is it.

“We have to get this out there and the public has to react to it,” said Bill Sterrett, a DNR Forester.

There are four ways to comment on which state forest roads should be closed to ORV traffic and why.

–You can comment at one of three public hearings:

  • Monday, June 19, 5:30-7:30 p.m.; Quality Inn, 2980 Cook Road, West Branch
  • Tuesday, June 20, 5:30-7:30 p.m.; Carl T. Johnson Hunting and Fishing Center, 6087 M-115, Cadillac
  • Wednesday, June 21, 5:30-7:30 p.m.; Jay’s Sporting Goods, 1151 S. Otsego Ave., Gaylord

–You can view an online map and leave comments on the website. The state forest roads in this region have been inventoried and an online map can be viewed at www.michigan.gov/forestroads. It’s easy to leave a comment and there are already impressive number that have been posted on the map.

–You can send an email to DNRRoadInventoryProject@michigan.gov.

–Or dash off a letter and mail it to DNR Roads Inventory Project, P.O. Box 456, Vanderbilt, MI 49795.

What you can’t do while commenting is to say a state forest road should be closed because ORVs are loud, smelly and obnoxious machines. We get it, you don’t like ORVs, but it’s not a valid reason. Public Act 288 says ORVers have a right to ride on state forest roads.

Better to point out where a closure would ensure safety of trail users or prevent user conflicts or protect an environmentally sensitive area. Tell them how an area of trails has been a longtime destination for “passive recreation use” and that would be destroyed with motorized vehicles. Give them details and the exact state forest roads that should closed.

Sterrett says one of the most effective comments would be to show how much monetary value a nonmotorized trail is worth and how the communities would lose that if ORV use is allowed. Nothing speaks to the hearts of our Republican-control legislature like money.

Whatever you do, say something, especially those trails systems you’re so familiar with because you hike or mountain bike them every summer. Say something or be content with what happens in 2018.

The comment period ends July 15, 2017.

Posted in Hiking, Michigan, State Forest Pathways, Trails | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Our New Book & Map for the Porkies

We’re excited to announce that Jim DuFresne’s newest guidebook, Porcupine Mountains Wilderness State Park: A Backcountry Guide for Hikers, Backpackers, Campers and Winter Visitors, is out for anybody headed to our beloved Porkies for a little wilderness adventure this summer.

The fourth edition of this classic is a 176 pages and full color, featuring great photography by Bryan Byrnes, a noted outdoor photography who practically lives on the edge of the 60,000-acre state park. More than 25 detailed maps to every trail in the park are also included along with special chapters on renting a walk-in cabin or yurt, wilderness fishing and the many waterfalls in this amazing corner of Michigan.

Along with the guidebook, we’ve also produced a companion map,  Porcupine Mountains Wilderness State Park Trail Map. Combining USGS elevation data with satellite imagery and good old fashion field research, the 24-inch by 18-inch, two-sided map is full color and includes all trails, cabin, yurts and backcountry campsite locations along with interesting features such as waterfalls and historic mines.

The map also features exact mileage for all the trails within the park and mileage flags for segments of the longest ones; Lake Superior Trail, Big Carp River Trail, Little Carp River Trail and Government Peak Trail. Data for contour lines is provided in both meters and feet and short descriptions are provided for each path. Best of all it’s printed on waterproof and tear-resistant paper just in case you drop it while fording the Big Carp River.

Porcupine Mountains Wilderness State Park: A Backcountry Guide for Hikers, Backpackers, Campers and Winter Visitors is only $15.95, the companion map $8.95. Both are available in the MichiganTrailMaps.com eshop for quick delivery.

In honor of the release, we decided to reprint Jim’s introduction to the Porcupine Mountains in this Trail Talk blog.

By Jim DuFresne

Something moved. In the shadowy light of a full moon, my task of filling the water bottles was interrupted when in the corner of my eye I saw movement on the other side of Little Carp River.

Jim DuFresne

Jim DuFresne

Or I thought I did.

I studied the black trunks of the hardwoods and pines, the silhouettes of bushes and stumps, but on this October evening all was quiet and still in the heart of the Porcupine Mountains. I was on the verge of returning to my chore when a shadow moved again; three steps this way, one step that way. It stopped; I stood up. It turned towards me; I peered into the darkness at it. And suddenly we were both conscious of each other.

Man meets bear in a place called the Porkies.

We both might have bolted into the woods, but 20 yards of rushing water gave us a sense of security so we took the opportunity to study each other a little bit longer. The few black bears I had encountered in Michigan looked little more than a large dog. This one had some bulk to it…a 250-pound bear? Maybe a 300-pounder? And when it turned sideways the shadow the moonlight cast of my backwoods companion was even more impressive.

“Whoa!” I said softly under my breath.

The Porcupine Mountains are home to an estimated 20 to 30 black bears.

Porcupine Mountains Wilderness State Park is home to an estimated 20 to 30 black bears.

It inched closer to the riverbank, nuzzled this with its nose, pawed that with its claws, and then stopped again to look at me. Only 30 yards separated us and now the bear appeared to be squinting at me.

“Gotta go,” I said in a booming voice so there was no question in its mind as to what I was. I retreated up the bank in three steps or less, and after reaching the top I turned to the river again.

The bear was gone. It vanished into the shadows from which it emerged without leaving a trace of its movement.

I sat down on a stump and wondered what else was out there when the spirit of this wilderness descended upon me, like it always does at such moments. It’s not picturesque Lake of the Clouds or the views from Summit Peak, as dramatic as they are, that make some of us return year after year to Porcupine Mountains Wilderness State Park. It’s the feeling of being out there in a land where man is at best a visitor passing through. It’s the idea that this rugged corner of the Upper Peninsula has been explored and mapped and even laced with foot trails and backcountry cabins, but never tamed.

Like a fortress against development and that oxymoron we call “progress,” the Porkies have always been this place where you retreated to rediscover yourself and the natural world around you.

It’s a timeless quality first experienced by the Indians and then acknowledged by those early miners. Today it’s a priceless quality that attracts thousands of visitors who merely want to wander down a path or pause in wonder along the rocky shoreline of Lake Superior. The billboards, the golden arches, the motorized pace of our society is somewhere else.

Out here it’s towering pines 300 years old and spectacular waterfalls. It’s sweeping views from rocky knobs reached by the slow and thoughtful pace of foot travel that keeps everything in proper perspective.

If only for a few days, leave your vehicle, slow down and look around. There’s a bear on the other side of the river.

 

Posted in Backpacking, Camping, Hiking, Jim DuFresne's Trail Talk Blog, Michigan, Porcupine Mountains Wilderness State Park, Trails, Uncategorized, Upper Peninsula Adventure | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

How Can Anybody Oppose This Trail?

Available in late May.

In the latest MichiganTrailMaps.com Trail Talk blog, we are again wondering why anybody would oppose a non-motorized trail that would link two of the most popular trails in Michigan; TART and the Little Traverse Wheelway. We suspect we’ll never understand.

Our latest guidebook, Porcupine Mountains Wilderness State Park: A Backcountry Guide for Hikers, Backpackers, Campers and Winter Visitors, is at the printers and is full color, with great maps and looks great. Keep an eye on our eshop for when it will be available to order in late May.

By Jim DuFresne

In the more than 30 years of covering trails in Michigan – and thus trail controversies – I’ve witness opposition to paths from home owners and shoreline cottage owners and equestrians and community leaders who were worried that the proposed Bay-to-Bay Trail in Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore would bring too much foot traffic into Glen Arbor.

Jim DuFresne

Jim DuFresne

But the group that always amazed me the most was farmers.

The salt of the earth.

I covered the early years of Michigan’s rail-trail movement when farmers were often the most vocal opposition to long-distant trails, especially when the Leelanau Trail was proposed. That one got ugly fast.

After the rail service ceased operations in the early 1990s, the Leelanau Trail Association (LTA) was formed in 1994 to turn the abandoned railroad bed into a multi-purpose trail. The following year LTA signed a $475,000 land contract to purchase 15 miles of the corridor that extended from Traverse City to Suttons Bay, much of it past the fruit farms and apple orchards of the Leelanau Peninsula.

Almost immediately there was heated opposition leading to numerous court cases over the proposed trail. The association’s ownership of the rail bed was challenged in court by adjacent property owners claiming reversionary clauses deeded the land back to them. When that failed, opponents tried to use local zoning laws to prevent the trail from being built or people from using it.

A early trail sign reflecting the opposition to the Leelanau Trail by adjacent land owners.

A early trail sign reflecting the opposition to the Leelanau Trail by adjacent land owners.

Eventually a grassy two-track was opened but when I rode the trail for the first time in 2002 there was still signs that stated “The Leelanau Trail is lawfully open to the public. If anyone interferes with your peaceful use of (it) please contact the sheriff’s department.”

Welcome to the Leelanau Trail. Enjoy your ride.

Today none of that controversial past is evident. The Leelanau Trail is now a fully paved, off-road connection between Traverse City’s TART Trail and Suttons Bay, winding past picturesque farms and vineyards, forests, lakes and ponds. And there’s no denying its overwhelming popularity.

Local bike shops rent bicycles to out-of-town visitors to pedal it. The Bay Area Transportation Authority (BATA) offers a Bike-N-Ride program with special buses that take weary cyclists and their bikes back to Traverse City from Suttons Bay. Vineyards along the way, and there is a half dozen of them less than a mile from the trail, welcome two-wheelers with open arms and bike racks.  Grand Traverse Bike Tours (www.grandtraversebiketours.com) incorporates the trail in a self-guided tour of the Leelanau wine country and in the winter TART volunteers groom sections of it for both classic and skate skiing.

And in all these years not once have I read about renegade cyclists freewheeling it through orchards and stealing apples.

You’d think everybody; government officials, locals and especially farmers, would have learned something from this experience.

But then I look at Elk Rapids just north of Traverse City and realize every new trail is going to be a struggle.

Two of the most scenic and popular trail systems in Michigan is TART (traversetrails.org) that includes the Leelanau Trail and wraps around Grand Traverse Bay from Acme to Suttons Bay and Little Traverse Wheelway (www.trailscouncil.org) that hugs the shoreline from Charlevoix to Harbor Springs. It’s always been the goal of both organizations to link them and create a 325-mile regional trail system that would span across the northwest corner of the Lower Peninsula.

The proposed Traverse City-to-Charlevoix Trail would be a 45.8-mile non-motorized route through the communities of Traverse City, Acme, Elk Rapids, Eastport, Norwood and Charlevoix with most of it a “shared-use path” along US-31 corridor. In other words, a trail that is physically separated from the road (and thus motorized traffic) by an open space or barrier.

Like the Leelanau Trail, the proposed Traverse City-to-Charlevoix Trail would wind past cherry and apple orchards, prompting some farmers to oppose it.

The scenery would be outstanding, the places to stop numerous. The trail would connect more than 20 beaches, natural preserves, county and township parks and Fisherman’s Island State Park. Throw a swim suit in the saddle bag.  Along the way cyclists could stop at a dozen farm markets and roadside stands, fill their panniers at a U-pick cherry farm or refuel at a small café. Even vineyards with tasting rooms, like Chantal Lefebvre, are beginning to appear along this stretch of Lake Michigan.

And the town that would benefit the most from such a trail is Elk Rapids, a shoreline community that seems to like its share of tourism and traffic. That’s why area government bodies, including the Township of Elk Rapids and the Village of Elk Rapids, went on record supporting the project.

Now they have rescinded it.

At public meetings last month farmers complained about how “increased foot traffic near their farms could impact crops” according to the Elk Rapids News. Others were worried about the liability of the chemicals they spray on their trees drifting across the trail.

Then there was concern over the FDA Food Safety Modernization Act that was signed into law in 2011 with the intention of shifting the focus of federal regulators from responding to food supply contamination to preventing it. Farmers said that trail users could be in violation of the new federal law.

As if walking or cycling along a trail is enough to contaminate the cherries in an adjacent orchard.

That’s all it took. Local government officials back pedaled faster than a clown on a unicycle and said that while they like the concept of the trail they could no longer support the project until property owner’s concerns were addressed.

Bicycles at the Elk Rapids Marina in a lakeshore village that sees more than its share of cyclists during the summer.

That shocked me because this village of 1,600 is more than accustomed to cyclists. The popular Ride Around Torch begins and ends in Elk Rapids and is basically a one-day celebration of cycling that fills the town with two-wheelers. Large organized rides use Elk Rapids High School to overnight and during the summer there always seems to be groups of spandex-cladded riders indulging at the Harbor Café or getting a caffeine fix at Java Jones.

But somehow a farmer’s concerns over the effect of trail users on his harvest, however misplaced it might be, takes precedent over the growing economic impact of non-motorized trail users like cyclists.

Like the Leelanau Trail, this link to Charlevoix will be built. Make no mistake about it. TART and the Top of Michigan Trail Council are experienced organizations with a proven track record of trail development especially in terms of fund raising and generating support. They will get it done.

It just seems like every trail that is proposed these days runs into opposition that in the end requires more time, more money and, as in the case of the Leelanau Trail, lawyers to build it. It delays everything but usually changes nothing.

I just hope when they finally cut the ribbon for Traverse City-to-Charlevoix Trail I haven’t retired my biking shorts yet. But who knows?

Posted in Cycling, Jim DuFresne's Trail Talk Blog, Little Traverse Wheelway, Michigan, Retro bikes, RideAround Torch Bike Ride, TART Trail, Top of Michigan Trail Council, Trails | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Look Both Ways & Ride

Spring is here and we’ll all be heading outdoors for the first long walks and bicycle rides of the year. In this piece MichiganTrailMaps.com blogger Jim DuFresne says it long overdue that motorized and non-motorized travelers acknowledge each other and accommodate each other on roads, crosswalks and whenever else they meet. National statistics say he’s right.

Don’t forget our e-shop is open 24/7 and includes last year bestseller, The Trails of M-22. You can order the full-color guidebook to 40 trails along Michigan’s most beautiful highway and then begin planning your spring get-away to that incredible corner of the Lower Peninsula.

By Jim DuFresne

I was once riding my bicycle through downtown Clarkston, the small, historical town where I live near, and was as close to the curb of main street as possible. I wanted to give passing vehicles every inch I could because it was afternoon rush hour.

Jim DuFresne

Jim DuFresne

It didn’t matter. A driver in a vehicle slowed to a crawl, rolled down her passenger window and screamed through her car at me to “get off the road and on the x#d$4%$ sidewalk!”

I never had time to tell her that it was illegal for cyclists, or skateboarders or inline skaters or any two-wheeler for that matter, to use the narrow sidewalks in this part of town. The local law is spray painted on every intersection corner to remind us of that …  but obviously not motorists.

I thought about that incident when I recently read annual reports from ranging from Smart Growth America to The Governors Highway Safety Association.  The stats in them made it seem like it’s us — the non-motorized travelers — against them — those in cars and trucks — and we’re not winning.

Nobody in Michigan has to be reminded of the horrific bicycle deaths we’ve experienced in the past year or so; the Kalamazoo incident when five cyclists died last June being merely the worse but hardily the only one.

It used to be when you walked away from motorized transportation, you felt a lot safer. But the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration (NHTSA) reported that in 2015 (latest figures available) traffic deaths increased 7.7 percent over 2014 and pedestrians and cyclists saw the biggest increase.

Pedestrian deaths shot up 10 percent that year and bicyclist deaths 13 percent — more than any other type of victims, including those driving the cars.

The Governors Highway Safety Association (GHSA) said in 2016 pedestrian deaths increased more than 20 percent to almost 6,000 nationally in just two years. This is the steepest year-to-year increase since GHSA began keeping records. Every day two people get hit by a vehicle in the crosswalk of an intersection.

In its annual Dangerous by Design report, Smart Growth America ranks the worse and best cities for walkers by assigning them a “Pedestrian Danger Index.” PDI is a calculation of the share of local commuters who walk to work and the most recent data on pedestrian deaths.

The worse city with a PDI of 283.1 is Cape Coral-Fort Myers. In fact, the top seven cities on the list are all in Florida with the streak not broken until Jackson, Miss. comes in at No. 8 with a PDI of 189.6. The worse Michigan city is labeled as Detroit-Warren-Dearborn at No. 17 with a PDI of 124.2.

Overall, the most dangerous state for pedestrian deaths in 2016, according to the NHTSA, was Delaware at 3.38 deaths per 100,000 of population, closely followed by Florida. We shouldn’t cheer too much as Michigan is in the top third at 19th place with 1.71 deaths.

Some reasons for the increases are obvious say these organizations. There are more cars on the road thanks to cheaper gas and a better economy. But there are also more people walking and cycling due to concerns about better health or just to save a buck or two.

Cyclists follow a portion of the I-275 Pathway to escape heavy traffic on nearby roads in Wayne County.

Drivers will always tell you that pedestrians and cyclists are too blame because they don’t obey traffic laws, zipping through stop signs at intersections as if they don’t apply to them. There is definitely some truth to that.

On the other hand, two-wheelers will reply that the biggest problem is “distracted drivers” with far too many of them on their smart phones talking, or god forbid, texting rather than looking at the road. No argument here but you better add pedestrians at crosswalks who also have phones glues to the side of their head.

In Florida, I suspect it’s a case of poor infrastructure design, streets without sidewalks or even wide paved shoulders, and an abundance of snowbirds and retirees, a large number of them who probably should have had their license withdrawn years ago.

At the other end of the age spectrum, says NHTSA, are teenagers; new and inexperienced drivers who are more crash prone. In 2015, crashes involving young drivers — ages 15 to 20 — increased 10 percent from the previous year.

All this would normally make me swear off roads forever and just stick to wooded paths when I need to escape outdoors and exercise. That was until last October when TART reported that an attempted assault occurred on their Boardman Lake Trail south of Traverse City. TART has ambassadors on some of its most popular trails to encourage safe usage and maintains an Incident Report Form on its web site where you can share what you’re experiencing in terms of safety and maintenance issues.

Still the best advice they passed along was this: Be aware of your surroundings and keep using the trails.

Good advice for all of us this spring whether we’re heading out on dirt trails, paved paths or an extension of a road. Look both ways, be alert but keeping walking, riding and hiking. Because what are the alternatives?

 

Posted in Cycling, Cycling Safety, Hiking, Jim DuFresne's Trail Talk Blog, Trails, Travel, Traverse City | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

One Man’s Love for a Nordic Ski Trail

Love that trail you’re skiing? There’s a very good chance volunteers made it possible. At Loud Creek Ski Trail in the Huron National Forest it was one man who for almost 30 years was responsible for the excellent trail system near Mio. In this MichiganTrailMaps.com Trail Talk blog, Jim DuFresne writes about Lyle Kline and why we need more volunteers like him.

Need a stocking stuffer? Don’t forget the MichiganTrailMaps.com eshop is open 24/7 and includes personally autographed books by Jim DuFresne and our award-winning trail maps.

By Jim DuFresne

Sometimes timing is everything in cross-country skiing.

Jim DuFresne

Jim DuFresne

The night before my first visit to Loud Creek Ski Trail a snowstorm swept across northern Michigan leaving behind a half foot of fresh powder. When I was less than 15 minutes from the trailhead, the sun broke out, making the snow appear as if it was sprinkled with diamonds.

And when I arrived at the trailhead, Lyle Kline, president of the Loud Creek Nordic Ski Club, had just finished grooming the trails. As the first skier on just-groomed tracks, I flew through the woods with ease.

But the best part of the afternoon was the fact that the 7.5 miles of trails were practically all mine. I encounter only two other skiers and Lyle. Not a bad day of skiing.

For many of us it’s the perfect Nordic experience; well groomed trails in a scenic wooded area where you’ll often see more whitetails than skiers. The key to enjoying such a day is knowing Loud Creek is there, half-hidden in the Huron National Forest, 2 miles southeast of Mio.

“We don’t market it and it’s kind of tucked away,” A ranger from the U.S. Forest Service office in Mio once told me. “Ten or 15 skiers would be a busy day out there.”

Lyle Kline of the Loud Creek Nordic Ski Club and the club's 25-year-old groomer.

Lyle Kline of the Loud Creek Nordic Ski Club and the club’s 25-year-old groomer.

Loud Creek dates back to 1984 when Kline first scouted the area and knew immediately that the wooded hills, creeks and beaver ponds was an ideal setting for ski trails. He began lobbying folks at the Mio Ranger District office, trying to get them to do more in the winter than just carter to the snowmobilers.

Four years later the U.S. Forest Service agreed to help develop the area if locals formed a club to purchase a groomer and maintain the trails. Lyle recruited his fellow skiers and the Loud Creek Nordic Ski Club was born. The club arranged a loan for $7,500, purchased a used Bombardier groomer and then staged bake sales, ski races and other fund raising events until it was paid off.

This type of community support for a trail is nothing new. What was unique about the Loud Creek Nordic Ski Club was its size. It was tiny. Early on the club might have had 30 to 40 members but by the time I met Lyle in 2004 club membership was down to the single digits. In subsequent articles I wrote Loud Creek was Michigan’s best Nordic area managed by so few.

Eventually the club went full circle. The man who started it became the sole member at the end.

“It boiled down to; I was the club,” Lyle said. “I’d find a couple friends to go out in the fall and help me with the chainsaw work needed to open the trails and in the winter I groomed them.”

The old donation pipe at the Loud Creek Ski Trail in the Huron National Forest.

The old donation pipe at the Loud Creek Ski Trail in the Huron National Forest.

In 2014, after devoting 30 years and countless hours – all of them as an unpaid volunteer –  to maintaining this ski trail for the rest of us to enjoy, Lyle stepped away. The Mio Ranger District has since taken over maintenance and in the winter tries to groom it as often as there is staff available. But grooming ski trails is not a high priority and the U.S. Forest Service will never be able to match the frequency and meticulous care that was the trademark of Lyle and Loud Creek Ski Trail.

“Well I turned 70 this year so I guess it was time to move on,” Lyle said. “I definitely had apprehensions about (the Forest Service taking it over).”

The lesson here isn’t that Michigan is blessed with numerous opportunities for cross-country skiing, many you might not even know about. The lesson here, I suspect, is most people don’t realize how dependent our trail systems are on volunteers.

The North Country Trail Association reported that this year 1,343 volunteers donated 69,708 hours in maintaining or building the country’s longest trail. The value of those hours in the private sector would have topped $1.6 million. But of course none of them were paid.

It’s just not volunteer hours that trail systems need to survive. They also need donations and contributions.  At Loud Creek, Lyle and the handful of members erected a donation canister at the trailhead that looked like the trunk of a tree. On top of it was a sign pleading with anybody stepping into their skis “Donation Please!”

Lyle thinks one winter they might have collected $1,200 but most years it was $800 or even less. Tough to repair that 30-year-groomer or purchase a new roller when so many skiers never pause at the donation tree.

“Well I guess locals assumed it’s here, it’s ours and we don’t need to pay,” said Lyle. “But it’s a shame for anybody not to drop $5 in the canister at their favorite trail much less give up a Saturday to help maintain it.”

This is the giving season, a time when many of us donate to our favorite causes if for no other reason than to get another tax deduction.

In the next month, seriously consider the trails you love and give to the organizations who work so tirelessly to ensure they are there and open when you show up with your hiking boots, skis, baby stroller or mountain bike.

Organizations like TART Trails, Top of Michigan Trail Council , North Country Trail Association, West Michigan Trails and Greenways Coalition, Friends of Sleeping Bear Dunes, Grand Traverse Regional Land Conservancy, Michigan Mountain Biking Association …

The list is almost endless so the need is great. Please give.

If we don’t all pitch in then it’s possible we’ll lose our trails because there are only so many Lyles in this world.

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Timeless In The Porkies & Loving It

Hey buddy do you know what time it is? Jim DuFresne didn’t. The main Trail Talk blogger for MichiganTrailMaps.com didn’t know the time for five days while backpacking in Porcupine Mountains Wilderness State Park. And it was so unusual he almost didn’t want to emerge from those rugged ridges we call the Porkies to our hour-on-the-hour world.

By Jim DuFresne

I don’t own a smart phone. I do have a cell phone; a flip up that unfolds into a phone twice its original size. How cool is that?

Jim DuFresne

Jim DuFresne

Not very by the reaction of my nieces and nephews when I showed it to them last winter. The look on their face was the same as if I was showing them a typewriter. One of them asked me where my Apps were and at first I thought she was talking about my long since diminished six pack.

When it comes to phone technology, I’m a Neanderthal. I’ve never sent a text message – I’ve never even tried to learn how to send a text message – because you can only imagine how tiny the keyboard is on my flip phone and how big my thumbs are.

The one thing I have done, along with millions of other cell phone users, is ditch the watch. When I want to know what time it is, I flip open my phone and there it is, the biggest numbers on that small screen of mine. My antiquated phone even automatically adjusts the hour when I switch time zones or when we enter daylight saving time.

But this fall I learned in the Porcupine Mountains all this convenience is dependent on one thing; staying connected. And in a wilderness as rugged as this state park is, that proved to be a daunting task.

 An unconnected cell phone in the middle of the Porkies.

Where’s the clock? An unconnected cell phone in the middle of the Porkies.

Porcupine Mountains Wilderness State Park is a 60,000-acre tract in the western Upper Peninsula, a place full of high ridges and steep canyons, towering 300-year-old pines and entire rivers. I arrived this fall to spend a couple of weeks researching a new edition of my guidebook to Michigan’s only state-designated wilderness.

On my third day there I strapped on my backpack and left my vehicle behind at a trailhead along South Boundary Road for a five-day loop into the heart of the park. That evening I realized I wasn’t getting cell service when I saw that the clock on my phone had disappeared.

I fanatically began pushing buttons with little icons on them and discovered how to change my ringtone but couldn’t find a clock anywhere on that phone. When I went to bed that night I didn’t have a clue what the hour was.

And I was hiking solo so there was nobody to ask if it was time to hit the sack. To make matters worse, I didn’t even know what time zone I was in. I was spending the first few days along the Little Carp River Trail, a beautiful path that is spilt between the Central and Eastern Time Zones.

I always knew where I was in the park. I just didn’t know when I was there.

I was a little discombobulated my first full day without hours and minutes. When I woke up in the morning I didn’t know whether to get up and get going or roll over and go back to sleep. I rolled over and didn’t disembark my small tent until it was bright and sunny outside.

Did I feel guilty? How could I? I didn’t know if it was 7 a.m. or 10 a.m.

A waterfall along the Little Carp River in Porcupine Mountains Wilderness State Park.

A waterfall along the Little Carp River in Porcupine Mountains Wilderness State Park.

I ate lunch when I arrived at a scenic little waterfall along the Little Carp River that was perfect for an extended break. Was it noon? Who knew? I didn’t. I started fixing dinner because I was hungry, I went to bed because the sun had set. I realized without a watch the only real deadline I had was to pitch my tent before dark.

And by the second day I was okay with that. By the third day I found it surprisingly relaxing.

Without a watch your timepiece becomes your instincts and the rhythms of nature. You eat because your stomach is growling, you take a nap because you’re tired, you start gathering firewood because it’s already dusk and you know it’s going to be a lot harder to find when it’s dark.

Without a watch, I discovered, you’re never rushed. You’re never behind schedule because schedules are irrelevant when there is no way to check the time. I simply floated through each day at an unhurried and very pleasant pace.

Just had to pitch my tent before dark. That was it.

On the fourth day I had arrived at the mouth of the Big Carp River, one of the most scenic and popular spots in the park for backpackers to spend a night. I set up camp and then in the evening went to the Lake Superior shoreline to witness what was promising to be a dramatic sunset. Already gathered around the mouth of the Big Carp River were a handful of other backpackers and I could see several were on their cell phones.

Then it occurred to me. I could get reception at this spot. I could make a phone call, send a text message if I knew how, connect myself to the rest of the world.

I could even see if it was time to start dinner.

The question I debated at that moment was; did I want to?

How extraordinary in today’s world to be able to totally disconnect yourself in a place as beautiful as the Porkies.  No phone calls, no emails, no Facebook, no Trump-versus-Clinton rants on the television. No news other then another backpacker telling you the bridge over the Big Carp River that washed out during the summer still hasn’t been replaced.

Some of us didn’t even know what time it was.

I found this timeless state of mind refreshing and rare.  I realized in another day I would emerge from the forest at a trailhead and there would be my car with its clock and its radio, the first step to getting reacquainted with the world.

But until then I decided that flip phone of mine would stay unflipped.

Posted in Backpacking, Camping, Jim DuFresne's Trail Talk Blog, Michigan, Personal Journey, Porcupine Mountains Wilderness State Park, Trails, Upper Peninsula Adventure | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 5 Comments

County Road 371: One Short & Adventurous Drive

371signIn the latest Trail Talk blog from MichiganTrailMaps.com, Jim DuFresne writes about the most amazing road he has ever followed in Colorado. Country Road 371 offers spectacular scenery, lots of outdoor adventure and places to camp. Even more amazing, CR 371 is only 10 miles long.

Jim no more flew back to Detroit then he immediately drove north to begin working on our expanded coverage of the Porcupine Mountains Wilderness State Park. An updated version of his longtime guidebook is slate

d to be out next spring. But before then we’ll be uploading maps, trail coverage and blogs to our web site. Our next Trail Mix newsletter will be devoted to the beloved Porkies. Sign up now at michigantrailmaps.com/newsletter to make sure you get the free newsletter that comes with our newest downloadable maps.

By Jim DuFresne

The Arkansas Headwaters Recreation Area is a vast stretch of Colorado that covers 109,107 acres from the historic town of Leadville south to Pueblo on the edge of Great Plains, protecting 152 miles of the Arkansas River, the state’s longest.  The area is so vast it’s managed by three agencies; Bureau of Land Management, Colorado Parks and Wildlife and the U.S. Forest Service.

Jim DuFresne

Jim DuFresne

North of Buena Vista the upper valley of the recreation area is stunningly scenic, a valley of towering peaks and steep canyons that slices through the Sawatch Mountains, Colorado’s highest range, and is accessed primarily by US-24. But departing the highway are two-tracks, forest roads and easily overlooked dirt roads. Like County Road 371, perhaps the most intriguing one of them all.

And it’s only 10 miles long.

But it’s hard to imagine many roads in Colorado, and there are none in Michigan, that offer so much outdoor adventure, places to camp and panoramic views – along with the pull-offs to gaze at them – in such a short distance as this Chaffee County Road.

CR 371 begins as Colorado Street in the historic downtown area of Buena Vista, the result of a gold rush in the 1860s and a popular stagecoach stop until three railroad lines arrived in the mid 1880s. From there the county road heads north as a paved avenue but by Mile 2 it’s a graded dirt road, winding past rocky bluffs with Buena Vista nowhere to be seen.

Rafters on the Arkansas River.

Rafters on the Arkansas River along County Road 371.

Above you can watch rock climbers carefully making their way up sheer stone faces. Below CR 371 is a thunderous display of whitewater, curls and drops that is the Arkansas River. If it’s July or August you’ll also see rafters bobbing their way downriver. A lot of them.

The Arkansas Headwaters Recreation Area is generally regarded as one of the country’s most popular locations for whitewater rafting and kayaking and the Upper Arkansas River is the most commercially rafted river in the United States. Period. That’s why there are half dozen commercial raft companies in and around Buena Vista – Wilderness Aware Rafting, KODI Rafting and Browns Canyon Rafting to name but a few –  and even more lining the river all the way downstream to Salida.

You can stand on the river in mid-July and watch hundreds of commercial and private rafters being swept through churning rapids or glide across a stretch of flat water that is perfectly smooth. The economic muscle of the raft companies is such that they reached a deal with the Upper Arkansas Water Conservancy District that regulates the release of water into the Arkansas and the hundreds of fly anglers who arrive to experience the river’s world class trout fishery. Throughout the summer until Aug. 15 the power companies release enough water from reservoirs to accommodate the rafters. In turn the rafting companies promise not to launch at any access site after 2 p.m. to allow anglers a portion of the day without a rubber hatch taking place.

This is a busy river.

The historic Midland Railroad Tunnels are used by vehicles today along Country Road 371.

The historic Midland Railroad Tunnels are used by vehicles today along Country Road 371.

At Mile 2.5 you reach the junction with CR 375, a dirt road that heads northeast into the mountains, and then arrive at the first of three tunnels carved through the rock bluff that towers above the road. The narrow tunnels were blasted through the rock during construction of the long-abandoned Colorado Midland Railroad in the 1880s. The Midland Tunnels are so narrow that you stop, peer into them to make sure there no opposing traffic or falling rocks and then slowly proceed.

CR 371 continues as a winding dirt road in a tight canyon for the next four miles with rock formations similar to the Red Rocks of Sedona, Arizona. The few posted speed signs range from 20 mph to 35 mph. Twenty seems fast for a road so narrow, 35 death defying.

The final rock along this stretch is the largest, Elephant Rock, and then the valley opens up with rugged mountains to the right and the famed Collegiate Peaks to the left. Next to Elephant Rock is a BLM camping area. This very rustic campground does not have drinking water, electricity or trash services. But what a view! Lining the horizon is the Ivy League of high peaks; Mt. Harvard (14,420 feet), Mt. Columbia (14,073 feet) and Mt. Yale (14,196 feet) among them.

At Mile 6 is Railroad Bridge Campground, a Colorado Parks and Wildlife facility with toilets, grills, walk-in sites with tent pads and easy and quick access to the Arkansas for rafters, the reason for the changing rooms. There is also a historical display devoted to the G.A. Kelley, who staked the first gold claim in the valley in 1859 to ignite a gold rush and a century of mining along the Arkansas and its tributaries.

The BLM camping area at Elephant Rock in the Arkansas Headwaters Recreation Area.

The BLM camping area at Elephant Rock in the Arkansas Headwaters Recreation Area.

In a way it hasn’t stopped because one of the most popular outdoor activities in the Upper Arkansas is recreational mining. BLM and state land is open to gold panning – without having to stake a claim or register a permit – and you’ll see people hunched along the bank, swirling mud and gravel in the bottom of their pan, looking for a little dust, flakes or even a nugget. Trying to strike it rich while on vacation.

Beyond Railroad Bridge, the county road enters another canyon, passing more rock formations, small camping areas, put-in sites for rafters, trailheads for hikers and mountain bikers. And once again CR 371 becomes a tight avenue and at times a one-lane road.

As a pick-up truck approached me here, we both paused and then inched along at less than 5 mph to avoid scrapping each other. There were six inches separating our door handles. At one point there were rugged rocks to the right me, ready to make a mess of my sub-compact rental, to the left was a steep drop-off – with no guardrail – where at the bottom was the thunderous whitewater of the Arkansas. A miscalculation in either direction and I was doomed.

You never take your eyes off this road. You want to look at the river or scope alpine slopes for Rocky Mountain bighorn sheep or watch a fly fisherman battle an 18-inch rainbow … you pull over. Somewhere.

Eventually CR 371 makes a sharp turn to the left, crosses the river on narrow bridge, passes somebody who has a Burlington Northern Railroad caboose in his front yard (obviously zoning laws aren’t a big deal out here) and at Mile 10 arrives at paved US-24.

I pulled over, unpeeled my fingers from the steering wheel and let out a deep breath. What a way to spend an afternoon. And I was less than 10 miles from the lodge I was staying at in Buena Vista.

 

Posted in Camping, Colorado adventures, Fly fishing, Jim DuFresne's Trail Talk Blog, Travel, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment