For a number of years, my wife and I have been primitive car camping at Lake Michigan Rec near Manistee MI. So after much searching, we finally bought a couple of acres of our own near the Little Manistee River's Nine Mile Bridge. The property has electric, water, and a septic system, and a 13 by 30 concrete pad surrounded by thousands of acres of national forest, including the North Country Trail which runs along the back boundary line.
Our goal this year was to tent camp there most of July.
Our essential purchases included:
- a garage-style canvas frame tent
- a Clam screen tent, which kicks ass
- two sleeping cots (which we bought at Costco for $25 apiece, and retail $150 at REI!!)
- an on-demand hot water outdoor shower
- a camping sink with hose connect
- a dormitory-sized refrigerator, microwave and electric coffee pot
- two Germans and one Australian shepherd
With some trial and error, we managed to make Our Place quite comfortable.
We woke every morning to the songs of the resident Rufus-sided Towhee, and finished many days with a hike out to a hillside where we could watch, listen and learn while a group of nighthawks buzzed and whirred through the evening air.
My son Adam and his family joined us for a few days, and I finally got to share one of my all-time favorite trail systems, Big M.
THAT'S NOT CAMPING!
The 200 square feet of space inside our tent provided plenty of room for us to eat, sleep and lounge. Amazingly, the only bugs we had to deal with were gnats, which didn't bite but were mildly annoying anyway. We never quite got used to them, but sometimes they would be entirely absent; other times, especially after a rain shower, they would send us running for the screen tent.
We spent 4th of July in Manistee, watching and laughing with a bunch of local crazy old guys known as the Scottville Clown Band. I think their motto says it all.
Besides having the sweet singletrack at Big M a mile from our tent, I literally had hundreds of miles of federal two-track to explore, some of which led me to discover the beauty of the Little Manistee River valley.
NO SHARKS, NO SALT, NO CONDOS
No where that I know of offers so much mountain biking so close to such a beautiful coast line. Karen and I have spent some incredible moments of our lives exploring the Lake Michigan beaches and adjoining dunes and forests.
Lake Michigan's crystal clear waters were warm for this time of the year. Hazzy likes to hunt for birds there.
Not only does Big M offer some incredible singletrack, but the section of the North Country Trail that runs through the region is open to mountain biking as well. Altogether, we can access about a hundred miles of singletrack right from our property.
A fishing hole on the Little Manistee near Pomeroy Springs.
We struggled a bit with making our tent rain proof. Its footprint was only 10x20 so we chose the line up two sides with the edge of the concrete slab. Unfortunately, the other two sides drain down onto the slab and into the tent. Our solution was temporary and rigged, but Karen ultimately found a way to keep the inside of the tent water-free through a number of heavy downpours. Not bad for a 200 square foot space that really wasn't designed for Glamping!!
Somehow, the Fifth Street Beach in Manistee had escaped our notice over the years, but now that we've found it, it has become our go-to escape for a bit of civilization, with its nearly white sand beach, concession stand and easy but hidden access. A true gem.
Nights are transformative away from the lights of cities. I woke up many nights to gaze in amazement at the Milky Way.
One problem we dealt with was ticks. After daily tedious efforts by Karen to inspect the dogs, we finally gave up and got Supai shaved. The groomer found 18 on her as well as a porcupine quill. Supe has already contracted Lyme disease, and we're very concerned about our exposure to it.
One of the best things about our time up north are our kayak trips. Ertie and Gertie, our mascot ducks, got to explore three more sections of the Little Manistee. All told, there are about 10 hours of paddling available to us within a short drive from the property. That's not counting the other rivers in the area!
We've become sunset snobs, so the conditions had to be right for us to stay at the beach for night fall. Watching campers gather at the shore for the ritual always warms my soul, tho. It's such a cool, communal experience.
One of the projects was to replace the floor of the shed and move it out of our forest sight line. It turned into an ordeal after I decided the whole thing could be dismantled and rebuilt. Karen and I made it thru a bit ruffled but ultimately unscathed!
My first catch in the Little Manistee.
My second catch. I was hoping for something more interesting than a shiner and a chubb. Later I caught a couple of bass, but I learned that there's a lot I need to learn about trout fishing.
I had read that another section of the NCT was open to mountain biking, the Baxter Bridge area north of Mesick. Well over 100 feet climbing per mile on average, but it provides some awesome views of the upper reaches of the Big Manistee river valley.
Big M, the site of the Lumberjack 100, offers about 30 miles of pure singletrack, in a system of interconnected loops. It's also transected by forest two-track, so I spent some time getting to know the entire system.
Hamlin Lake, one of our favorite places to paddle.
The homestead really began shaping up after awhile. It's fun to think that this is only the beginning.
Karen's brother and wife joined us for a couple of days, so we went target shooting at the Big M range.
One of my camping requirements for a long-term adventure is a hot shower. Our propane-fired unit worked nearly flawlessly. Outdoor showers kick ass.
The dogs, especially Csaba, began to learn the skill of river swimming, so we made a few evening trips to this beautiful spot on the Little Manistee.
Nothing like the joy of the dogs when they're river stomping.
Csaba learned a few things about the power of the current. A couple of close calls left him undaunted, though.
One of my riding goals was to find Lake of the Woods.
We hiked downstream from Tippy Dam and had one of the best experiences of the whole month. Beautiful.
I wholly concur with the No Biking regulation. There's some places where you just shouldn't hear "passing on the left."
The crystal clear waters of Michigan rivers never fail to amaze me. We quickly realized that the main draw for most people are the federal lands to our north. We were lucky enough to be visited by our friends from Big Rapids and spent a wonderful afternoon kayaking with them on the Little Manistee and dining at Doc's Big Sauble Inn.
We were so blown away by the Big Manistee that we decided to paddle the same section. Incredible.
Dead Horse Marsh boardwalk a few miles down the NCT.
The out and back from Dilling Road to Marilla is one of the best rides in the Midwest.
Once you get going on the two-track, it's hard to stop exploring. The 29+ tires seemed to be perfectly matched for every condition, whether it was the twisty old school single track of the NCT and Big M or the sandy fe(de)ral roads.
I figured out some nice routes around Big M that average about 100 feet of climbing per mile. Not bad for Michigan! I'm anxious to have my Ohio crew come up and enjoy it.
This was taken while I was feeling the glory of paddling a canoe down a river, my original outdoor passion. Moments later I broke the oldest rule and leaned a bit too far upstream while avoiding a strainer. After the dumping, I realized my fishing pole was no where to be found. I waded back into the current and saw it pinned underwater against the log. Fortunately, the tip was pointed upward and downstream and I was able to grab it and retrieve it. This was on the section just downstream from the notorious Nine Mile Bridge section where two people drowned last year.
The Little Manistee, although only creek size, demands respect because of the gradient and volume. Most deadfall trees are left in place to provide cover for fish.
PRIDE GOETH BEFORE THE FALL
I attempted to canoe and fish at the same time, but my skills are not up to the task. I caught a couple of small bass on our final day, but the real prize remains elusive.
Karen's dad, a former engineer, provided us with probably the most useful improvement: an outlet box and heavy duty cable that allowed us to plug in our fridge, microwave, cell phone chargers and fans. Without it, we would have gone full-on feral.
Now that we're back home, I'm feeling shut out from the sounds and sights we began to take for granted living closer to the natural world. Four walls and a roof are nice, but our month living in a tent transformed me in ways I can't articulate.
