First a little introduction. Jack has already posted his version of the trip and this is my version frustrating as its has been. I have some pictures to include but have experiencied more frustration than normal. After typing the report completely, then trying to insert the photos I lost it all. AARRRGGGHHH. This is a retype without the pictures, but will try to insert them later. It just seems safer this way.
This is a trip report on three members of The Forum and one guest. Al Dasen, (Michistripcanoe or more effectionately known as "Dapper Al", Jack Voss, (Kayak Jack), James (Bud) Hart, and the guest is Jack's son Eric. Bud is a boat builder like most of us and is currently building a cedar strip Kayak. I'm from Perry, Jack is from Okemos, Bud is from East Lansing, and Eric is from Lansing, I believe. All Mid-Michiganders.
Jack started planning this trip in October, 2003, for a trip down Michigan's famous "AuSable River", scheduled for May9-13, 2004. The four of us signed on early and all decided to travel solo. Jack in his 17 foot beautiful handcrafted kayak; me in my 14' 9" handcrafted cedar strip canoe; Eric in one of Jack's canoes; and Bud in his 17 foot Lincoln, vintage 1942ish.
There was the usual flurry of emails between us at the beginning of the planning; then silence on the subject for several months; then another flurry of emails just weeks and then days before the trip date to make sure all details were covered and no one would miss something important about the trip. May 9th---MOTHERS DAY. Hoo boy, getting away on that day cost me big time (promises of dinner, dancing-the works), but somehow we all got away and converged on "Penrods" canoe camp around 11:30 AM. Weather was cloudy with forecasts for scattered showers for today and the next five days. Penrods is one of five canoe camps in town serving this famous river. He has a big supply of canoes and kayaks; a good tackle shop, several rental cottages, and drop off and pick up service. Jim, the owner, was giving instructions to his new seasonal staff; his season starts in mid-May and ends mid-October. We all bought snacks and some gear (still marked at 50% discount from the closeouts of last season) and commenced to do our own car shuttle. We unloaded all the gear; placed it and our canoes on the river bank and leaving Eric to watch over it we drove all three vehicles the 30 plus miles East to the city of Mio. We left 2 vehicles in the overflow parking lot of a local supermarket and piled into Jack's van to return to Penrods. Each person packed their own canoe and we shoved off at 3:40PM, in the face of darkening clouds. Ten minutes down river we got the first touch of rain, a light mist, then it changed to rain. We pulled into shore and put on rain gear, a tricky move, while clinging to brush and being pulled by the rivers current. Resumed the trip and in another ten minutes we floated under I75, which passes East of Grayling,as it heads Northbound from Miami, Fl to Sault St Marie, Michigan, the last city before entering Canada.
Let me note here for the unfamiliar; just North of Grayling is a source for two great rivers. We call it the "Great Divide". On the West side of the "G.D." (a series of hills) the Manistee River originates and flows Westward to the Great Lake Michigan. On the East side of the G.D. the AuSable river originates and flows Eastward to Great Lake Huron. It's somewhat like the Suwannee and the St Mary's rivers flowing out of the Okefinokee swamp. Suwannee from the Southwest corner of the swamp flowing to the Gulf and the St Mary's from the Southeast corner flowing to the Atlantic.
Small trout were feeding as we floated past them. Their feeding caused dimples on the water as they fed on clouds of grey dunns and a small hex type insect. One trout jumped completely out of the water--twice. I was able to see the coloring on its back on the first jump; the full mix of rainbow colors on its belly on the second jump. A rare sight, but those kinds of things make these trips worth all the effort. I used to live on this river. Why'd I ever move away? Only here can nature be seen like this. The fish go crazy over these flies. They love all that protein. At every bend, and there are very few straight stretches,where the cedar is piled up, with deep holes flushed out by the current, big browns, rainbows and brookies are coming out and feeding like crazy. And I didn't bring my fly rod. I'm such a dummy. Oh well, Lord willing there'll be another time. The spring has been unordinarilly wet. Raining every day. The water is high and fast and we go rushing past all those feeding fish. The rain stopped after about 20 minutes. Just another squall line passing through. Floated, paddled for the next 30 minutes and started getting dark. That means it's going to rain again; Still within the sound of the highway. The SW wind must be carrying it this far. Still close to civilization; passing lots of cottages; some are year round homes; maintained beautifully; making it a beautiful clean river. I must repeat that. It sure is a beautiful scene and a beautiful river. I am using my micro-recorder and probably get a little emotional as I speak into it but the river does that to me. It's so peaceful with the three canoes in front of me quietly drifting so as not to disturb the feeding fish and/or the wildlife. Seeing lots of beaver cuttings. Don't remember the beaver being this active along here. Their lodges must be inland in the marshes cause there is no evidence of their attempting to creat dams.
Caught up to Bud and found out he got his Lincoln canoe from his dad. He learned how to canoe in it when he was a kid in the Upper Aairondacks of N.Y. He said there used to be a Lincoln canoe Co. in that area. It's sixteen feet long, fiberglass w/aluminum rails, painted to look like a birch bark canoe. The seats are woven with leather thong like snow shoe lacings. Done by his dad, he thinks, back in the 40's. You could tell he connects with that canoe. Handles it so easily, like a pro. Little high in the bow but moves it around with absolutely no effort.
The white cedar must be 30ft tall along here, many hanging over the water. Other stretches have a maple type bush hanging over the water similar to the rivers in Northern Ontario. The main difference is soil type. Here there is gravel bottoms, sand in some stretches, and a few stones along the shore. In Ontario it's mostly granite on the bottom and along the shores.
We jast passed where the East Branch of the Ausable river enters the mainstream and immediately it expanded the depth and width of the river. Oh, Oh, thunder. Lots of long rolling thunder. The rain comes and goes after a few minutes, but thunder keeps rollin along. The forward canoes are kicking up lots of mallard ducks. Saw a couple of Woodies circling too. They must have kicked them off their nest. Finally the rain comes again and it is so heavy the insects are gon, probably up in the trees and the fish have stopped feeding. Miles and miles and miles of cedar swamp. Just floated up to about 10 feet from a mallard drake before I could figure out what it was. Then it didn't fly away, it just moved off the log in to the water and swam up into the brush. Might have had a mate nearby or just hated to fly in this rugged weather. It scared a muskrat just as it started to leave its hole under the bank. They almost collided. The muskrat dived but the mallard wouldn't fly. Lots of wildlife. What a beautiful sight, and the trip is just beginning. Passed an AuSable river boat with 2 flyfishermen being guided by a local guide no doubt. The pirogue boat lovers would enjoy that sight. Fishing in the rain, but I noticed they had switched to wet flies; looked like wooly buggers to me.
Jack signaled the "canoe camp" was just ahead so we all moved to the left and pulled into the State canoe camp grounds. It was just 5:30 PM but conditions were such that we all agreed to call it a day and set up camp and make supper. Jack, Eric and Bud all use the Hennessey hammock. I still use my 8' x 8' Coleman tent. I had my wife sew on 18" of nylon all around the fly bringing it almost to the ground. No water on me this way, even in a windy rain. With a floor saver under the tent; a tarp on the floor inside, I'm waterproofed. Jack says I'm a belt and suspenders type of guy. Maybe so, but all that Boy Scout practice of "being prepared" pays off in many ways. In no time tarps were strung up over the cooking area; Jack's culinary arts were on display and everybody perpared their first meal of the trip. Tasted great, felt good to see if the beer had spoiled since buying it a few hours before---nope---AAAhhh all is well. Too moist today to pop popcorn, but hopefully tomorrow. The sun came out just before nightfall. Two paddlers in kayaks, who said they lived downstream, were paddling upstream, just to take advantage of the break in the weather, they said. They said they were watching satellite TV and the weather was for improved weather the next 2 or 3 days. (They were wrong). About and hour later they came back downstream going like a bat out of H--. Hit the sack earlly--and no one fell out of their hammocks. Swampy, Chuck, and the whole forum membership would have loved this scene I'm sure.
Woke up next morning to a cloudy sky. Heard voices. Got up and dressed. Stepped out of the tent and no one in sight. Took my morning walk along the river, looking for morel mushrooms along the way. Saw a pair of geese with four young goslings. Upon return Jack was cooking breakfast. Jack and Eric had taken their walk along a sandy two track so didn't meet them on our walks. Only a few clouds in the West at this point so should be a good day on the river. Started breaking camp. All outside gear is dripping wet, so packed wet tent, hammocks, flys, etc. Took canoes off the racks and carried them down to the river. Everyone was carrying gear down to the river and packing canoes. Took a couple of pictures and thought the title of these pictures should be, "There's got to be room for that! It came out of there". Everyone shed their raingear; temperature 62, wind calm. Stowing wet gear makes it a little heavier and I thought, "the extra weight should balance the canoes a little better". Eric is having a problem with balance. His bow rides a little high and paddling from the bow seat facing the stern, in solo fashion, he is'nt getting the balance needed for a smooth stable ride. His paddle seems to be a little short. We all discussed paddles; the best lengths, etc., and Eric decided to try my spare homemade 62" beavertail paddle for todays ride. The canoe he's using doesn't have a keel and if we get a wind he's going to have one more problem, slipping sideways. He's working too hard now and with a wind he will really be scrambling to stay on course. We shoved off about 10:00AM and planned to stop early tonight. That would allow us to set up camp so the afternoon sun and breezes would dry things out. Conditions are just right for the black flies to be out. They buzz around our heads but so far they aren't biting. When they get agressive it's headnet time. So far only an occassional mosquitoe. They seem to be landing on everybody but so far no one seems to be getting bitten; thank goodness for that. Bud, Jack and Eric are still members of the working masses. I'm the only retired "Olde Farte" on this trip. Bud is a professor at Michigan State University (MSU) school of Forestry. We stopped for a pee break and part of the jawing was on the current bug situation. Bud told the story of one of his professor friends, and entomoligist, who believed you should not slap and kill a mosquitoe when it is biting you. The entomologist said that during the bite process the mosquitoe injects a coagulant, and at the end of the bite it extracts it and inserts another substance that causes the bite not to itch. Bud said he has conditioned himself to not slap at them and kill them when they bite him. One day he had about 30 students on a field trip in the woods. Several students kept mentioning to him he had mosquitoes on his arms, neck, etc., and he told them this theory. At the end of the session, which lasted a couple of hours, several students came up to him and said, "you know you had 21 mosquitoes biting you on your right arm at one time". Bud finished his story with "they didn't hear a da--ed thing during my lecture, they were too busy watching and counting all those da--ed mosquitoes. We all had a good laugh and returned to our float down the river. Lots of wildlife everywhere. Seeing lots of geese. First we'd see a gooses head on a looong neck sticking above the grass (the male), then looking closer we could see another head just barely above the grassline (the female); probably sitting on a nest. Lots of little grassy islands along the route and the geese use them for nesting. Clouds start shutting out the sun off and on, with a nice SW wind developing behind us; pushing us along even faster on this high fastwater current. Perfect canoeing conditions. Reached our second nights campsight, another State campground called "Whitepine Campground".Passed quite a few fly fisherman but didn't see a single fish feeding during the entire days float. Whitepine is for canoe camping only. A two track sand trail DNR service road reaches this campground but no tourist campsites or R.V. area is located here. It is very remote, quiet, but well maintained by the park service. It has tables, a pump well,toilets, and racks to put canoes for the duration of your stay. Lots of trees around for the hammockers so they quickly got set up for the night. Several big tarps were hung over the tables and cooking area and cooking began. Equipment was drying nicely in the breezes but ominous clouds were rolling overhead. Then it happened. Another downpour. Everyone scrambled to get things left out to dry back under the tarps. We all laughed. Here we are all set up, eating in the great outdoors, just 20 feet from that beautiful river, watching nature at its finest; a little shower only adds to the full outdoor experience. Lots of dead trees and limbs everywhere for our evening bonfire in every one of these camps. The shower passes through and the rain stops. It's time for evening talk around the campfire . Canoes versus kayaks; keels versus smooth bottom; single blade versus double blades; we discuss all the important stuff. Important to paddlers and forum members anyway. This session reminds me of a motto I have in my office in my workshop---"Canoeing-Hunting-Fishing-Out of Doors spoken here. NO Metropolitan Madness Allowed!!!". It certainly applies in this peaceful setting. Jack breaks out the cigars;from somewhere a little bottle of scotch appears and the conversation drifts away into just listening to the water rushing by and gurgling around the pilings at the landing. The owls and Gods creatures are starting their nightly sounds. Man-may it never end.
Woke up early; no one else up yet this morning. Went for a walk upstream along the river bank. Got to be some morels out around here somewhere. Came to a cottage,old, delapidated,looked thru a window and saw four bunk beds. Kitchen was unkempand everything reminded me of an old trappers shack I found like this one on the Kapuskasing river in Ontario several years ago. No electricity on this side of the river. This cabin is apparently used as a fall hunting camp, not a fishermans camp. Moved further upstream, it is an uphill climb and am now on a high bank overlooking the river. Wow. It sure is pretty. Found another old cabin. Better condition. This one is apparently used for both fishing and hunting. Several cords of wood recently cut and stacked here. The owners must feel they are so isolated they can leave their equipment outside. Axes, saws, spinning rods hanging from the trees and other things that I would have under lock and key are just laying around. No tire tracks on the two track leading in here but maybe they have a gate out at the main road. I wonder how far that is from here. Walked farther upstream. I must have walked about a mile or so so far. Still no mushrooms. No luck. Came upon another cabin. It's got a funny contraption on the bank. Walk up to it and find it's an electric elevator type device. Similar to what is used on a stairway to transport an invalid person up and down a staircase. Someone is talented. They have built two rails leading from this high ground all the way down to the river and the device is used to raise and lower boats or canoes to and from the water. It's a nicer cottage, still rustic, but there's a large outbuilding. My guess is there's a generator in that building that's used to provide power for the cabin and the boat hoist. That's enough exploring for today so I return to camp. The guys are all up and eating breakfast. I join them and describe my findings. Didn't see any game but saw lots of track and other sign everywhere. Still No morel mushrooms.
Time to move on so everybodystarts breaking camp and packing gear. Again, all outside gear is very wet. No one is experiencing wet clothes or sleeping gear, thank goodness for that. The river is wider, deeper, and faster now. The North branch and the Southbranch have entered the river now. The first two days the bottom was made of gravel beds, and occasional sand. Too deep in most places now to be sure what's on the bottom. Still cloudy and a light wind is starting---from the East. The worst possible direction. We keep changing lead position so each person gets to see the most wildlife. On one stretch, while I was in the lead, I saw a turkey fly across the river and land next to a big black object. It fanned and gobbled. It was a big tom. They were gone into the woods by the time I floated by that spot. A few bends later I heard another tom gobble, 30 feet from me on my left. I froze as I drifted by pointing at it. I heard Jack tell the guys "Look Al's pointing". Then Jack spotted it and tried gobbling a few times; no response, but he fanned and struted as they passed. A nice scene for all to see. The wind picked up some more. Swift currents and tricky winds on the bends, with brushy sweeps, caused some a few problems. BLOOP. Eric . Jack rushed ahead and caught gear. Moved on and soon stopped for lunch. No conversation about the bloop.
Threatening rain again. Lots of deep, long, rolling thunder. Kicking up lots of geese and mallards as we float by. Some won't move and we drift by them not more than 10 feet away. Stop for the third night of camping, at Parmalee bridge campground. This is a campground where cars can drive in and set up camp. Too early in the season for them so we have it to ourselves. Firewood harder to locate at this site. but found enough to suffice. Again the hammockers find just the right trees real close to the fire area. We all get set up ready for the evening. Jack is using his two burner coleman. Bud uses a single burner propane(didn't catch the name but obviously a top of the line stove. He said he paid about $95 for it). I'm using my sierra (zip) stove. I brought along cedar strip scraps for starter wood and maple chunks for building a bed of coals to cook on. The first night I got one pan all blackened because I didn't wait long enough. From then on I had the patience to wait for the hot coals before starting my cooking. Worked great once I got the timing right. I brought along some popcorn and a grated popper. Jack popped the popcorn over the campfire. Bud and Eric popped the beer cans and we all melted into the environment as we all stared at the fire. We kidded Jack about the popcorn..Tasted like lefthanded popcorn, we said. It's better if it's cooked right handed. Silly, I know. but shows how much we were enjoying the whole scene. We even had roasted marshallows on a stick to top it all off. I hate to spoil this scene, but you guessed it---it started raining. Rained most of the night. Thank God for the pee bottle. I know it's nice to use a Hennessey hammock. But when it's raining and it comes to time to relieve the bladder, if it's raining, you get wet. I don't know of any hammocker that keeps a pee bottle in the hammock with him. There's one guy I know that can explain this best. Swampy. Ask Swampy.
The next morning was like the others, wet, good food, everyone cheerful and carrying on with lots of chatter, but wet. Thank God it's warm. If it was near freezing and we had to work with all this wet gear it would definetly dampen the spirits. An East wind wind was starting up. The worst direction for us. About noon we expect to begin seeing the current slow and the influence of the backwaters of the Mio dam hit the river. We started out for the day and had to work our butts off. Eric was having a heck of a time. Jack gave him his spare doublebladed paddle and WOW he started leading the pack. It was perfect, allowing him to correct against the wind effect on every stroke. Jack came alongside and whispered "Ijust saw Bud put about 60 pounds of rocks in his bow to keep the wind from pushing him sideways. He was worried that going across the backwaters it might be a problem. Not to worry, I said. I've never seen it done either but Bud must know what he's doing. (It worked fine for him). Bear down and paddle hard. Paddle hard somemore. Gusting winds. Tough going. Thunder rolling overhead. Squalls of rain, but luckily not tons of water. Just enough to remind you it could be worse. Two hours of that. I'm beat. Thank God there's the dam. A short while later we're on shore, carrying gear up to the camping area. And guess what. Jack started laughing and called me over to the steps. There between the crack of every step are several morel mushrooms. Mother nature has to be behind one of these trees having a good laugh at me. She is very much in charge and this is her way of letting me know. I picked them all. Scoured the area and didn't find another onother one. Oh Well. Jack and I walk the one mile into the town of Mio to get the vehicles. We get into my van, drive to Grayling and get his van and both return to the Mio dam campsite. We all drive into town (leaving all our gear unattended - so far we haven't lost anything doing this), and go to one of Jack's favorite restaurants. We have a great meal topped off with blueberry pie alamode. Can't get that alamode out there on the river.
I decided to head home. I've got two canoes on their forms waiting for my carressing hands to finsh sanding, epoxying and varnishing their bottoms. Jack, Eric, and Bud decide to spend another night camping and plan to leave the next day. We shake hands all around and bid a fond farewell. Well done guys. Each trip like this is food for the soul and we gotta start planning another one right away.
Postcript: The morels were in a bowl in my fridge for a few days, started to shrink, and the wife kept bugging me about them. (They're called sponge mushrooms). I finally talked her into thawing out a package of venison steaks. She cooked them and the mushrooms (which returned to their original size upon cooking) and it was a feast fit for a king (and Queen). AAAAHHHHHHHHH
This is a trip report on three members of The Forum and one guest. Al Dasen, (Michistripcanoe or more effectionately known as "Dapper Al", Jack Voss, (Kayak Jack), James (Bud) Hart, and the guest is Jack's son Eric. Bud is a boat builder like most of us and is currently building a cedar strip Kayak. I'm from Perry, Jack is from Okemos, Bud is from East Lansing, and Eric is from Lansing, I believe. All Mid-Michiganders.
Jack started planning this trip in October, 2003, for a trip down Michigan's famous "AuSable River", scheduled for May9-13, 2004. The four of us signed on early and all decided to travel solo. Jack in his 17 foot beautiful handcrafted kayak; me in my 14' 9" handcrafted cedar strip canoe; Eric in one of Jack's canoes; and Bud in his 17 foot Lincoln, vintage 1942ish.
There was the usual flurry of emails between us at the beginning of the planning; then silence on the subject for several months; then another flurry of emails just weeks and then days before the trip date to make sure all details were covered and no one would miss something important about the trip. May 9th---MOTHERS DAY. Hoo boy, getting away on that day cost me big time (promises of dinner, dancing-the works), but somehow we all got away and converged on "Penrods" canoe camp around 11:30 AM. Weather was cloudy with forecasts for scattered showers for today and the next five days. Penrods is one of five canoe camps in town serving this famous river. He has a big supply of canoes and kayaks; a good tackle shop, several rental cottages, and drop off and pick up service. Jim, the owner, was giving instructions to his new seasonal staff; his season starts in mid-May and ends mid-October. We all bought snacks and some gear (still marked at 50% discount from the closeouts of last season) and commenced to do our own car shuttle. We unloaded all the gear; placed it and our canoes on the river bank and leaving Eric to watch over it we drove all three vehicles the 30 plus miles East to the city of Mio. We left 2 vehicles in the overflow parking lot of a local supermarket and piled into Jack's van to return to Penrods. Each person packed their own canoe and we shoved off at 3:40PM, in the face of darkening clouds. Ten minutes down river we got the first touch of rain, a light mist, then it changed to rain. We pulled into shore and put on rain gear, a tricky move, while clinging to brush and being pulled by the rivers current. Resumed the trip and in another ten minutes we floated under I75, which passes East of Grayling,as it heads Northbound from Miami, Fl to Sault St Marie, Michigan, the last city before entering Canada.
Let me note here for the unfamiliar; just North of Grayling is a source for two great rivers. We call it the "Great Divide". On the West side of the "G.D." (a series of hills) the Manistee River originates and flows Westward to the Great Lake Michigan. On the East side of the G.D. the AuSable river originates and flows Eastward to Great Lake Huron. It's somewhat like the Suwannee and the St Mary's rivers flowing out of the Okefinokee swamp. Suwannee from the Southwest corner of the swamp flowing to the Gulf and the St Mary's from the Southeast corner flowing to the Atlantic.
Small trout were feeding as we floated past them. Their feeding caused dimples on the water as they fed on clouds of grey dunns and a small hex type insect. One trout jumped completely out of the water--twice. I was able to see the coloring on its back on the first jump; the full mix of rainbow colors on its belly on the second jump. A rare sight, but those kinds of things make these trips worth all the effort. I used to live on this river. Why'd I ever move away? Only here can nature be seen like this. The fish go crazy over these flies. They love all that protein. At every bend, and there are very few straight stretches,where the cedar is piled up, with deep holes flushed out by the current, big browns, rainbows and brookies are coming out and feeding like crazy. And I didn't bring my fly rod. I'm such a dummy. Oh well, Lord willing there'll be another time. The spring has been unordinarilly wet. Raining every day. The water is high and fast and we go rushing past all those feeding fish. The rain stopped after about 20 minutes. Just another squall line passing through. Floated, paddled for the next 30 minutes and started getting dark. That means it's going to rain again; Still within the sound of the highway. The SW wind must be carrying it this far. Still close to civilization; passing lots of cottages; some are year round homes; maintained beautifully; making it a beautiful clean river. I must repeat that. It sure is a beautiful scene and a beautiful river. I am using my micro-recorder and probably get a little emotional as I speak into it but the river does that to me. It's so peaceful with the three canoes in front of me quietly drifting so as not to disturb the feeding fish and/or the wildlife. Seeing lots of beaver cuttings. Don't remember the beaver being this active along here. Their lodges must be inland in the marshes cause there is no evidence of their attempting to creat dams.
Caught up to Bud and found out he got his Lincoln canoe from his dad. He learned how to canoe in it when he was a kid in the Upper Aairondacks of N.Y. He said there used to be a Lincoln canoe Co. in that area. It's sixteen feet long, fiberglass w/aluminum rails, painted to look like a birch bark canoe. The seats are woven with leather thong like snow shoe lacings. Done by his dad, he thinks, back in the 40's. You could tell he connects with that canoe. Handles it so easily, like a pro. Little high in the bow but moves it around with absolutely no effort.
The white cedar must be 30ft tall along here, many hanging over the water. Other stretches have a maple type bush hanging over the water similar to the rivers in Northern Ontario. The main difference is soil type. Here there is gravel bottoms, sand in some stretches, and a few stones along the shore. In Ontario it's mostly granite on the bottom and along the shores.
We jast passed where the East Branch of the Ausable river enters the mainstream and immediately it expanded the depth and width of the river. Oh, Oh, thunder. Lots of long rolling thunder. The rain comes and goes after a few minutes, but thunder keeps rollin along. The forward canoes are kicking up lots of mallard ducks. Saw a couple of Woodies circling too. They must have kicked them off their nest. Finally the rain comes again and it is so heavy the insects are gon, probably up in the trees and the fish have stopped feeding. Miles and miles and miles of cedar swamp. Just floated up to about 10 feet from a mallard drake before I could figure out what it was. Then it didn't fly away, it just moved off the log in to the water and swam up into the brush. Might have had a mate nearby or just hated to fly in this rugged weather. It scared a muskrat just as it started to leave its hole under the bank. They almost collided. The muskrat dived but the mallard wouldn't fly. Lots of wildlife. What a beautiful sight, and the trip is just beginning. Passed an AuSable river boat with 2 flyfishermen being guided by a local guide no doubt. The pirogue boat lovers would enjoy that sight. Fishing in the rain, but I noticed they had switched to wet flies; looked like wooly buggers to me.
Jack signaled the "canoe camp" was just ahead so we all moved to the left and pulled into the State canoe camp grounds. It was just 5:30 PM but conditions were such that we all agreed to call it a day and set up camp and make supper. Jack, Eric and Bud all use the Hennessey hammock. I still use my 8' x 8' Coleman tent. I had my wife sew on 18" of nylon all around the fly bringing it almost to the ground. No water on me this way, even in a windy rain. With a floor saver under the tent; a tarp on the floor inside, I'm waterproofed. Jack says I'm a belt and suspenders type of guy. Maybe so, but all that Boy Scout practice of "being prepared" pays off in many ways. In no time tarps were strung up over the cooking area; Jack's culinary arts were on display and everybody perpared their first meal of the trip. Tasted great, felt good to see if the beer had spoiled since buying it a few hours before---nope---AAAhhh all is well. Too moist today to pop popcorn, but hopefully tomorrow. The sun came out just before nightfall. Two paddlers in kayaks, who said they lived downstream, were paddling upstream, just to take advantage of the break in the weather, they said. They said they were watching satellite TV and the weather was for improved weather the next 2 or 3 days. (They were wrong). About and hour later they came back downstream going like a bat out of H--. Hit the sack earlly--and no one fell out of their hammocks. Swampy, Chuck, and the whole forum membership would have loved this scene I'm sure.
Woke up next morning to a cloudy sky. Heard voices. Got up and dressed. Stepped out of the tent and no one in sight. Took my morning walk along the river, looking for morel mushrooms along the way. Saw a pair of geese with four young goslings. Upon return Jack was cooking breakfast. Jack and Eric had taken their walk along a sandy two track so didn't meet them on our walks. Only a few clouds in the West at this point so should be a good day on the river. Started breaking camp. All outside gear is dripping wet, so packed wet tent, hammocks, flys, etc. Took canoes off the racks and carried them down to the river. Everyone was carrying gear down to the river and packing canoes. Took a couple of pictures and thought the title of these pictures should be, "There's got to be room for that! It came out of there". Everyone shed their raingear; temperature 62, wind calm. Stowing wet gear makes it a little heavier and I thought, "the extra weight should balance the canoes a little better". Eric is having a problem with balance. His bow rides a little high and paddling from the bow seat facing the stern, in solo fashion, he is'nt getting the balance needed for a smooth stable ride. His paddle seems to be a little short. We all discussed paddles; the best lengths, etc., and Eric decided to try my spare homemade 62" beavertail paddle for todays ride. The canoe he's using doesn't have a keel and if we get a wind he's going to have one more problem, slipping sideways. He's working too hard now and with a wind he will really be scrambling to stay on course. We shoved off about 10:00AM and planned to stop early tonight. That would allow us to set up camp so the afternoon sun and breezes would dry things out. Conditions are just right for the black flies to be out. They buzz around our heads but so far they aren't biting. When they get agressive it's headnet time. So far only an occassional mosquitoe. They seem to be landing on everybody but so far no one seems to be getting bitten; thank goodness for that. Bud, Jack and Eric are still members of the working masses. I'm the only retired "Olde Farte" on this trip. Bud is a professor at Michigan State University (MSU) school of Forestry. We stopped for a pee break and part of the jawing was on the current bug situation. Bud told the story of one of his professor friends, and entomoligist, who believed you should not slap and kill a mosquitoe when it is biting you. The entomologist said that during the bite process the mosquitoe injects a coagulant, and at the end of the bite it extracts it and inserts another substance that causes the bite not to itch. Bud said he has conditioned himself to not slap at them and kill them when they bite him. One day he had about 30 students on a field trip in the woods. Several students kept mentioning to him he had mosquitoes on his arms, neck, etc., and he told them this theory. At the end of the session, which lasted a couple of hours, several students came up to him and said, "you know you had 21 mosquitoes biting you on your right arm at one time". Bud finished his story with "they didn't hear a da--ed thing during my lecture, they were too busy watching and counting all those da--ed mosquitoes. We all had a good laugh and returned to our float down the river. Lots of wildlife everywhere. Seeing lots of geese. First we'd see a gooses head on a looong neck sticking above the grass (the male), then looking closer we could see another head just barely above the grassline (the female); probably sitting on a nest. Lots of little grassy islands along the route and the geese use them for nesting. Clouds start shutting out the sun off and on, with a nice SW wind developing behind us; pushing us along even faster on this high fastwater current. Perfect canoeing conditions. Reached our second nights campsight, another State campground called "Whitepine Campground".Passed quite a few fly fisherman but didn't see a single fish feeding during the entire days float. Whitepine is for canoe camping only. A two track sand trail DNR service road reaches this campground but no tourist campsites or R.V. area is located here. It is very remote, quiet, but well maintained by the park service. It has tables, a pump well,toilets, and racks to put canoes for the duration of your stay. Lots of trees around for the hammockers so they quickly got set up for the night. Several big tarps were hung over the tables and cooking area and cooking began. Equipment was drying nicely in the breezes but ominous clouds were rolling overhead. Then it happened. Another downpour. Everyone scrambled to get things left out to dry back under the tarps. We all laughed. Here we are all set up, eating in the great outdoors, just 20 feet from that beautiful river, watching nature at its finest; a little shower only adds to the full outdoor experience. Lots of dead trees and limbs everywhere for our evening bonfire in every one of these camps. The shower passes through and the rain stops. It's time for evening talk around the campfire . Canoes versus kayaks; keels versus smooth bottom; single blade versus double blades; we discuss all the important stuff. Important to paddlers and forum members anyway. This session reminds me of a motto I have in my office in my workshop---"Canoeing-Hunting-Fishing-Out of Doors spoken here. NO Metropolitan Madness Allowed!!!". It certainly applies in this peaceful setting. Jack breaks out the cigars;from somewhere a little bottle of scotch appears and the conversation drifts away into just listening to the water rushing by and gurgling around the pilings at the landing. The owls and Gods creatures are starting their nightly sounds. Man-may it never end.
Woke up early; no one else up yet this morning. Went for a walk upstream along the river bank. Got to be some morels out around here somewhere. Came to a cottage,old, delapidated,looked thru a window and saw four bunk beds. Kitchen was unkempand everything reminded me of an old trappers shack I found like this one on the Kapuskasing river in Ontario several years ago. No electricity on this side of the river. This cabin is apparently used as a fall hunting camp, not a fishermans camp. Moved further upstream, it is an uphill climb and am now on a high bank overlooking the river. Wow. It sure is pretty. Found another old cabin. Better condition. This one is apparently used for both fishing and hunting. Several cords of wood recently cut and stacked here. The owners must feel they are so isolated they can leave their equipment outside. Axes, saws, spinning rods hanging from the trees and other things that I would have under lock and key are just laying around. No tire tracks on the two track leading in here but maybe they have a gate out at the main road. I wonder how far that is from here. Walked farther upstream. I must have walked about a mile or so so far. Still no mushrooms. No luck. Came upon another cabin. It's got a funny contraption on the bank. Walk up to it and find it's an electric elevator type device. Similar to what is used on a stairway to transport an invalid person up and down a staircase. Someone is talented. They have built two rails leading from this high ground all the way down to the river and the device is used to raise and lower boats or canoes to and from the water. It's a nicer cottage, still rustic, but there's a large outbuilding. My guess is there's a generator in that building that's used to provide power for the cabin and the boat hoist. That's enough exploring for today so I return to camp. The guys are all up and eating breakfast. I join them and describe my findings. Didn't see any game but saw lots of track and other sign everywhere. Still No morel mushrooms.
Time to move on so everybodystarts breaking camp and packing gear. Again, all outside gear is very wet. No one is experiencing wet clothes or sleeping gear, thank goodness for that. The river is wider, deeper, and faster now. The North branch and the Southbranch have entered the river now. The first two days the bottom was made of gravel beds, and occasional sand. Too deep in most places now to be sure what's on the bottom. Still cloudy and a light wind is starting---from the East. The worst possible direction. We keep changing lead position so each person gets to see the most wildlife. On one stretch, while I was in the lead, I saw a turkey fly across the river and land next to a big black object. It fanned and gobbled. It was a big tom. They were gone into the woods by the time I floated by that spot. A few bends later I heard another tom gobble, 30 feet from me on my left. I froze as I drifted by pointing at it. I heard Jack tell the guys "Look Al's pointing". Then Jack spotted it and tried gobbling a few times; no response, but he fanned and struted as they passed. A nice scene for all to see. The wind picked up some more. Swift currents and tricky winds on the bends, with brushy sweeps, caused some a few problems. BLOOP. Eric . Jack rushed ahead and caught gear. Moved on and soon stopped for lunch. No conversation about the bloop.
Threatening rain again. Lots of deep, long, rolling thunder. Kicking up lots of geese and mallards as we float by. Some won't move and we drift by them not more than 10 feet away. Stop for the third night of camping, at Parmalee bridge campground. This is a campground where cars can drive in and set up camp. Too early in the season for them so we have it to ourselves. Firewood harder to locate at this site. but found enough to suffice. Again the hammockers find just the right trees real close to the fire area. We all get set up ready for the evening. Jack is using his two burner coleman. Bud uses a single burner propane(didn't catch the name but obviously a top of the line stove. He said he paid about $95 for it). I'm using my sierra (zip) stove. I brought along cedar strip scraps for starter wood and maple chunks for building a bed of coals to cook on. The first night I got one pan all blackened because I didn't wait long enough. From then on I had the patience to wait for the hot coals before starting my cooking. Worked great once I got the timing right. I brought along some popcorn and a grated popper. Jack popped the popcorn over the campfire. Bud and Eric popped the beer cans and we all melted into the environment as we all stared at the fire. We kidded Jack about the popcorn..Tasted like lefthanded popcorn, we said. It's better if it's cooked right handed. Silly, I know. but shows how much we were enjoying the whole scene. We even had roasted marshallows on a stick to top it all off. I hate to spoil this scene, but you guessed it---it started raining. Rained most of the night. Thank God for the pee bottle. I know it's nice to use a Hennessey hammock. But when it's raining and it comes to time to relieve the bladder, if it's raining, you get wet. I don't know of any hammocker that keeps a pee bottle in the hammock with him. There's one guy I know that can explain this best. Swampy. Ask Swampy.
The next morning was like the others, wet, good food, everyone cheerful and carrying on with lots of chatter, but wet. Thank God it's warm. If it was near freezing and we had to work with all this wet gear it would definetly dampen the spirits. An East wind wind was starting up. The worst direction for us. About noon we expect to begin seeing the current slow and the influence of the backwaters of the Mio dam hit the river. We started out for the day and had to work our butts off. Eric was having a heck of a time. Jack gave him his spare doublebladed paddle and WOW he started leading the pack. It was perfect, allowing him to correct against the wind effect on every stroke. Jack came alongside and whispered "Ijust saw Bud put about 60 pounds of rocks in his bow to keep the wind from pushing him sideways. He was worried that going across the backwaters it might be a problem. Not to worry, I said. I've never seen it done either but Bud must know what he's doing. (It worked fine for him). Bear down and paddle hard. Paddle hard somemore. Gusting winds. Tough going. Thunder rolling overhead. Squalls of rain, but luckily not tons of water. Just enough to remind you it could be worse. Two hours of that. I'm beat. Thank God there's the dam. A short while later we're on shore, carrying gear up to the camping area. And guess what. Jack started laughing and called me over to the steps. There between the crack of every step are several morel mushrooms. Mother nature has to be behind one of these trees having a good laugh at me. She is very much in charge and this is her way of letting me know. I picked them all. Scoured the area and didn't find another onother one. Oh Well. Jack and I walk the one mile into the town of Mio to get the vehicles. We get into my van, drive to Grayling and get his van and both return to the Mio dam campsite. We all drive into town (leaving all our gear unattended - so far we haven't lost anything doing this), and go to one of Jack's favorite restaurants. We have a great meal topped off with blueberry pie alamode. Can't get that alamode out there on the river.
I decided to head home. I've got two canoes on their forms waiting for my carressing hands to finsh sanding, epoxying and varnishing their bottoms. Jack, Eric, and Bud decide to spend another night camping and plan to leave the next day. We shake hands all around and bid a fond farewell. Well done guys. Each trip like this is food for the soul and we gotta start planning another one right away.
Postcript: The morels were in a bowl in my fridge for a few days, started to shrink, and the wife kept bugging me about them. (They're called sponge mushrooms). I finally talked her into thawing out a package of venison steaks. She cooked them and the mushrooms (which returned to their original size upon cooking) and it was a feast fit for a king (and Queen). AAAAHHHHHHHHH
