Craig Lake State Park | Fall 2015

Part Two: Craig Lake Trail

Craig Lake

Craig Lake Trail is known as a rugged hiking trail.  I found it to be a perfect day hike—8 miles of rolling terrain in a beautiful forest circling the quiet lake.  The landscape is hilly, with a bit of climbing here and there, but nothing extremely strenuous.  We finished the hike in just over 3 hours; it was a beautiful, chilly fall day, and I would’ve been happy to hike a little longer.  

Blue blazes on Craig Lake Trail

We left the yurt at Teddy Lake and drove to the Craig Lake Trailhead, about a mile away.  There is no outhouse at the trailhead parking lot, which is unusual and a bit of a buzzkill if you arrive with nature already calling from an excess of morning coffee.  After wandering around for a few minutes, I accepted defeat and ventured into the woods.  There were only a few vehicles parked at the trailhead, and it was very quiet.  

Old school sign

Some of the signs along Craig Lake Trail have obviously been there for a long time, sporting a weathered, mid-century look.  Trailhead signs point hikers to various spots along Craig Lake Trail, and toward the North Country Trail, which also meanders around Craig Lake on its 4,600-mile journey from North Dakota to New York.  Our longest national scenic trail, the NCT shares a path with Craig Lake Trail along the east side of the lake before veering east toward its route through the McCormick Wilderness, then on to Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore, Tahquamenon Falls State Park, and beyond.

The full Michigan DNR map can be found here: http://goo.gl/ydlEKX

We decided to head west and circle Craig Lake in a clockwise direction.  Craig Lake Trail starts out following an old two-track road, which is used as a private access road for park employees to service the park’s two rustic lakeside cabins.  During our visit, it was buried in fallen leaves that rustled as we walked, making the only sound in the otherwise silent forest.  

The trail begins on an old road

In about a quarter-mile, the trail leads to an open area along the shore of the lake that is a popular canoe put-in spot with a few campsites.  There are also two outhouses, which I took advantage of on principle.  From there the trail hugs the lake and heads north toward the park’s two rustic cabins - Miller Lodge and the Caretaker’s Cabin.  Built in the early 1950s by Fred Miller of Miller Brewing Company in what was then his private fishing retreat, the cabins are now state park property and can be rented through the Michigan DNR. 

High Life Creek

About a half-mile before the cabins, the trail/road crosses over High Life Creek on a short, one-lane bridge.  The Caretaker’s Cabin is reached first; no one was there, so we spent a little time checking things out.  The front of the cabin faces the trail, with a woodshed off to the side.  In the back there is a fire ring and picnic table, and a nice view of Craig Lake.  A rowboat was overturned and secured at the shore, waiting for the next guests to take it for a spin. 

The Caretaker's Cabin

We moved on and reached Miller Lodge about a minute later.  There were people at this cabin, so we didn’t explore it.  Here the overgrown road ends and the path continues north, becoming a proper hiking trail, disappearing into the trees behind the cabin and beginning to curve around the north end of the lake.  The forest was aglow with color—a variety of green, yellow, orange, and red shone around and above us, and blanketed the trail below.  Every once in a while I looked up to catch glimpses of the vibrant blue fall sky framed by multi-colored leaves.  Enormous boulders appear here and there along the trail—glacial erratics deposited during the last ice age.    

Blue fall sky and a splatter of red

Red and yellow maple leaves

Glacial erratic. I love these guys.

At the north end of the lake, we reached the backcountry campsite near the portage to Clair Lake.  There is a fire ring, small area to pitch a tent, and a wonderful view of Craig Lake.  The trail passes Craig Lake Portage and crosses a small stream over a wooden footbridge before climbing to a rocky bluff providing another nice view of the lake and surrounding trees sparkling in the bright sunlight.  The trail descends back into the forest and to the Peshekee River, which is crossed via a suspension bridge that was built in 2014.  Before that, hikers crossed the river using a fallen log.  

Backcountry campsite near the Clair Lake portage

Fall color on Craig Lake, seen from the Backcountry campsite near the Clair Lake portage

Rocky bluff at the north end of Craig Lake

The trail heads south along the east side of the lake, over hilly terrain.  This part of the trail wanders through stands of tall maple trees, whose leaves were a striking, luminescent yellow at this time of year.  It passes more backcountry campsites on Craig Lake and crosses the portage to Crooked Lake, where additional campsites can be found.  The trail curves around the south end of the lake and passes a path to more campsites on the shore of Craig Lake, referred to as the Sandy Beach Campsites.  Shortly after, the trail arrives back at the beginning of the loop.  Turning left brought us back to the trailhead parking area in about a quarter-mile.

Towering yellow

We returned to Teddy Lake and spent the rest of the day at the yurt, eating hotdogs, reading, and keeping warm near the wood stove.  It was a day well spent.

Craig Lake State Park | Fall 2015

Part One: Teddy Lake Yurt

Teddy Lake in Craig Lake State Park

The state park boat floated in absolute silence on the small lake.  Not a single bird chirped in the surrounding thick autumn forest; no fish splashed and broke the perfect, colorful reflection on the water beneath.  Absolutely nothing stirred.  I strained to hear any sound, but only stillness pushed back against my ears.

This would be a decent place to spend my last day alive if the world was ending and the circumstances didn’t allow for my optimal method of passing.  (If given the choice, I’d prefer to be killed in a volcanic eruption.)  Note to self. 

The path to Teddy Lake Yurt

This moment of eerie Zen took place on Teddy Lake, located in the most remote state park in Michigan—Craig Lake State Park.  A designated wilderness area approximately 45 miles west of Marquette, Craig Lake has no park headquarters or DNR facility of its own.  Registration and information must be obtained at Van Riper State Park, about 8 miles east of the entrance to Craig Lake.

A rowboat awaits behind the yurt at Teddy Lake

Craig Lake is reached via a one-lane logging road, which, until fairly recently, was often impassible without 4-wheel drive and high ground clearance.  High clearance is still advised, but recent improvements to the road have made the park more accessible to visitors with standard vehicles.  The road can still be a bit hazardous, with large rocks lurking over hills and around bends, and drivers should stay alert and drive slowly to avoid surprises and undercarriage damage.  It’s a good idea to call Van Riper State Park to check the road conditions ahead of time. 

This is the only road through the park, and it creeps through the forest for 7 miles to reach the Craig Lake Trailhead—the starting point of the park’s trail system—and another mile to reach Teddy Lake.  As soon as one turns off US 41 and onto the dirt road, a large, no-nonsense sign warns visitors of the rustic and remote nature of the park, and its lack of cell phone service, flush toilets, or modern “camping” hook-ups, and offers unprepared visitors an out by advising that it’s ok to turn around now and try again another time.  No hard feelings.

The road into Craig Lake State Park

Once at the trailhead it’s foot traffic or paddling only.  A network of trails loops around Craig Lake and forms various canoe portages connecting it to Clair Lake and Crooked Lake.  The North Country Trail also winds through the park on its route through the U.P.  There are backcountry campsites throughout the park, as well as two yurts—one on Lake Keewaydin and another on Teddy Lake, and two rustic cabins on Craig Lake.  The cabins were built in the early 1950s by Fred Miller of Miller Brewing Company; what is now state park land used to be Miller’s private fishing retreat, and Craig, Clair, and Teddy lakes were named after his children.  Not to snub the family business, there is also a High Life Creek, which leads to High Life Lake, outside of the park boundary.

The Miller cabins and the two yurts can be reserved through the Michigan DNR.  They do not have electricity or running water, but they do have wood-burning stoves for heat, and the park service keeps them well-stocked with wood.  The park’s only water pump is located near the larger of the two Miller cabins.  If staying anywhere else, water must be carried in or obtained from a lake or a stream and then purified.

Driving the eight miles to the Teddy Lake Yurt took almost an hour, but it was beautiful.  It was the first week of October, and fall colors were peaking in this part of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula.  Aside from a few trucks parked at the trailhead, we didn’t see a single other vehicle.  Once at Teddy Lake, there is a spot to pull off the road and park, but the yurt is at the end of a footpath, a few minutes’ walk through the woods. 

We took a few trips back and forth to load our things into the yurt—standard car-camping stuff: sleeping bags, lantern, a month's supply of food for 2 days, etc.  The thick blanket of fallen leaves rustled on the path as we walked, and sunlight filtering through the yellow and orange foliage above gave the forest a golden glow.  It was a crisp, gorgeous fall day.

The path to Teddy Lake Yurt. The outhouse can be seen in the trees.

The yurt sits on a hill above Teddy Lake.  It is small, with just enough space for the essentials: 2 sets of bunk beds, a small table and chairs, and a wood-burning stove. The space is ideal for 2, or parents with small children.  Four adults would be cramped if spending significant time inside, but it’s doable.

Teddy Lake Yurt

A cabinet just outside the door contains various cooking supplies, some provided by the park service, others left behind by previous guests, and a long picnic table provides a good space to cook and eat meals.  A well-stocked woodshed sits nearby, and there is an outhouse along the path to the road.

We each claimed a bunk, then went for a paddle around the lake.  Teddy Lake is one of six lakes located within the park’s 8,500 acres.  The park provides a rowboat, paddles, and PFDs at the yurt.  With the exception of Lake Keewaydin, no motorized boats are allowed on the lakes within the park.  According to the park map, a backcountry campsite is located on the opposite side of the lake, but we could see no sign of it.  This location is known as a good spot to hear the common loon—my favorite sound on Earth—but we heard absolutely nothing.  The lake was utterly still during our visit.  I have never experienced such complete silence during other trips to the backcountry.  Something somewhere almost always stirs—a raven squawks, a toad croaks, a dragonfly buzzes.  Here: nothing. 

Looking at Teddy Lake Yurt from the lake

We returned to the yurt and browsed the visitors’ log.  Like other rustic wilderness structures, the yurt was prone to mice invasion, and the log book told stories of battles won and lost against the tiny, relentless intruders.  A single mouse trap lay on the floor behind one of the bunks—a lone artifact of the previous warrior-guest, who had taken it upon himself to wage an organized attack, apparently arriving prepared for an offensive and setting up traps all over the yurt, racking up impressive body counts according to his epic retelling.  Those who came before him wrote of their efforts to deter the nightly storm of mice, only to find rodent droppings on nearly every surface each morning.  They even provided an illustrated storyboard of what they imagined was happening under the cover of darkness

Despite having stayed in rustic state park cabins before, we had forgotten about this issue.  We were relieved that we happened to have packed all of our food for this trip in a plastic bin with a lid, and we secured the rest of our supplies as well as we could.  If mice want to get in, there isn’t much that can be done.  The best we could do was not leave any food lying around to encourage them, and hope they preferred the cold outside to the warm yurt when night fell. 

With daylight fading and cold creeping in, we started a fire in the wood-burning stove.  The yurt warmed up immediately, and the dome window in the center of the ceiling had to be cracked open to regulate the heat.  I unloaded some supplies on the picnic table outside, opened a Blackrocks 51K IPA, and made quesadillas on our Jetboil stove.  It was a clear night, and the small opening in the tree canopy directly above allowed just a small glimpse of the night sky and its infinite stars.  We turned in early, planning to hike Craig Lake Trail the next day.

To be continued in: Day Two - Craig Lake Trail
 

Partial map.  The full MIDNR map can be found here: http://www.michigandnr.com/publications/pdfs/RecreationCamping/craig_lake_map.pdf

Hartwick Pines State Park

In the late 1920s, 8000 acres of land near Grayling in Michigan's Lower Peninsula were donated to the state as a memorial park. Included in this land were 85 acres of old growth white pine, which had been spared during Michigan's booming logging industry days. Only 49 acres of this original growth forest remain today as a fierce wind storm destroyed nearly half of these massive trees in 1940.
Interpretive displays at the park visitor center tell the story of the park and surrounding Au Sable River Valley. Trails leaving from the visitor center wind through the park allowing hikers to observe maple, beech, oak, birch, hemlock, and red and white pine trees. The Old Growth Trail loops through its namesake stand of 300-400 year old white pine.When I arrived at the park after leaving Wyandotte Lodge, the morning continued to be cold and crisp. I was thankful for the hat and gloves I had thrown in the car at the last minute. Although the early October weather had been warm and sunny so far, this could change at any minute and I had to bundle up as I set out to walk through the forest. The sunny sky above the tree canopy shone a bright blue, but the thick covering of leaves did not allow much warmth to penetrate to the forest floor. Patterns of light and shadow on the green, yellow, and orange leaves created a beautiful display as I walked through the cold and quiet woods.Trails throughout the park are open year round and some are groomed in winter for cross country skiing. Despite the beautiful fall day, I began to experience the onset of Winter Fever. Another old growth stand of pines can be found in the Upper Peninsula in Tahquamenon Falls State Park, and I had the pleasure of snowshoeing the Giant Pines Trail a few years ago after a beautiful snowfall. Hartwick Pines State Park would be another ideal place to visit during the cold months for an undoubtedly stunning winter hiking experience.

Also observed along the Old Growth Trail is Chapel Of The Pines: a log Chapel built in 1953. The tiny but beautiful Chapel sneaks up on you as you curve through the forest and is a fun diversion from the trail. Inside, below the structure's most dominant feature – a large cross-shaped window – visitors can read “Nature's Prayer”: a plea for guidance in protecting our natural heritage.


The last stop before returning to the visitor center (or the first depending upon your direction of travel) is the Logging Museum. Two log structures were built in the 1930s to display exhibits and artifacts from a time in Michigan's history where the log industry generated more money than all the gold extracted during California's gold rush. One building houses tools, photographs, and displays showing how the trees were cut and moved from the forest to the Au Sable River which was used as a highway to transport the huge logs. The other building shows how loggers lived in a typical Michigan logging camp. On the grounds surrounding these two buildings one can observe various pieces of old equipment used to cut and transport felled trees.


Hartwick Pines State Park is located just northeast of Grayling, close to I-75. The park and visitor center are open year-round; the Logging Museum is closed November-April.

October 2008: Fall Color In The L.P.

Part 3: Back on the RoadA sparkling layer of frost covered the ground when I woke up the next morning and walked out onto the back deck of Wyandotte Lodge. The Au Sable River flowed quietly as the sun rose behind me in the east and began to illuminate the tops of trees that were just beginning to turn color. My breath fogged around me in the cold air – my favorite kind of morning. I imagined the scene would be really beautiful in a week or so. I always seem to have trouble timing this fall color thing.After dining on one of the best omelets I've ever eaten (the owner of Wyandotte Lodge is a retired science teacher-turned construction worker who also dabbles in cooking) I hit the road heading west toward Hartwick Pines State Park - the subject of the next post.
Unfortunately, most of the growth here was young, but these short, new trees were bursting with color. I pulled over several times to photograph bright red and yellow oak leaves, and to wait for wild turkeys to cross the road and waddle around in the tall brown grass completely unimpressed with my presence.

October 2008: Fall in the L.P.

Part Two: Old Mission PeninsulaThe tip of Old Mission Peninsula sits at the 45th parallel: a latitude shared with Bordaux, France which gives it the distinction of being near the heart of Michigan's wine country.Known for its cherry and apple orchards, vineyards, and a handful of wineries, this narrow finger of land makes for a scenic and leisurely fall drive. I stopped to take a look at a few of the orchards (some of which have a U-pick policy at certain times) but the extremely windy conditions of the day made it difficult to get many good photos.
Cherry season was long over, but apple season was in full swing and many types of apples are grown in this region. Local growers operating roadside produce stands are prevalent in this part of Michigan and I took advantage of this, buying a few enormous Honeycrisp apples which ended up as my dinner once I got back on the road later and didn't feel like stopping to eat.

On the peninsula, one can shop for supplies and food (including locally-grown canned items) at Old Mission General Store which has been around since the mid-1800s. A tiny white schoolhouse from the same era is also still operational nearby. Driving all the way to the tip of the peninsula brought me to Old Mission Lighthouse. Built in 1870, the light helped guide ships around the rocky point once shipping in the area had grown significantly. A log home built in the 1850s by early settlers sits in the woods just west of the lighthouse. Historically speaking, Old Mission Peninsula has many interesting things to offer.

Heading south and back down the peninsula, I stopped at Ogdensburg Cemetary to crunch through the fallen leaves and view old headstones from the 1800s. Nearby, the vineyard of Chateau Grand Traverse Winery provided a striking vista stretching out from the road toward a stand of forest in the early stages of fall color and the blue water of West Grand Traverse Bay.

Overall, fall color was not yet at its height here due to the proximity of Lake Michigan and Grand Traverse Bay. I always forget that it tends to stay a bit warmer (although it may not feel like it) along the lakeshore because large bodies of water retain the heat they absorb during summer. This phenomenon causes the fall season to extend a bit longer.

October 2008: Fall in the L.P.

Part One: The Drive NorthI decided to take two days, travel north a few hours, and hopefully see some nice fall color. Planning any kind of color viewing in Michigan can be tricky as any slight change in the temperamental weather can speed up or delay the color changes. Since our weather has been very warm over the last month, I waited until the second weekend in October to venture out.
I drove north to Grayling, then headed west toward Traverse City intending to complete a circuit which would include a trip up Old Mission Peninsula – a narrow strip of land running North and South that bisects Grand Traverse Bay and is known for its orchards. The following day would be spent at Hartwick Pines State Park in the morning before heading back home.About an hour and a half or so south of Grayling, the color along I-75 started to explode. I admit to being a very bad driver for some of this trip because of all the rubbernecking required to ogle the trees. No matter how many autumn seasons I've enjoyed, I will never be able to get enough fall color. It amazes me.I picked up lunch at Grayling Restaurant – that day's special: Hot turkey sandwich with mashed potatoes and gravy. It was a very windy but relatively warm and sunny day so I decided to eat outside at Au Sable Park. The parks sits on a narrow stretch of the Au Sable River near a couple of canoe liveries.Heading west on M-72 I stopped to photograph a really cool abandoned barn and house in a big empty field of knee-high grass. Unfortunately I am still kicking myself for being a complete sissy and scaring myself out of getting a good look inside the barn. I approached the torn-out section and got a brief glimpse of what was probably lots of interesting stuff inside but retreated once horror movie images of things that could happen in abandoned barns in the middle of nowhere assaulted my brain.

The house next door was basically demolished inside and all its windows were gone. What happens to places like this and why have they been vacant but still standing for so long? After struggling to keep my tripod and camera still in the high wind I returned to the car to find that another person had pulled off the road to photograph the barn as well.