So what does a person do all day while waiting for true dark to arrive? Besides nap that is.
Working on the river.
Well, on the one day the skies were clear while I was in the UP I wandered the Manistique waterfront looking for other things to photograph while impatiently urging the sun to hurry up and sink.
If you zoom in you might be able to read about the lighthouse.
The mouth of the Manistique River was being dredged so I watched that for awhile. It was sort of interesting, but you can only watch so many piles of mud being moved before you have to move on.
Scoop after scoop of muck was dug up from the river bottom and poured into the barge.
I couldn’t resist walking out on the causeway leading to the shiny red lighthouse. It was such a pretty day.
A wide cement walkway made the trip out there easy to navigate.
I spent quite a bit of time out there waiting for the sun to go down. And watching the light glint off the water.
It’s not a long walk on a pretty day.
A couple of guys were fishing but they hid behind the lighthouse for me to get some shots.
All metal, it can withstand some nasty weather. But none was forecast while I was there.
But as the sun lowered I came back into shore.
The flowers glowed, loosestrife, an invasive, and goldenrod.
The evening light makes everything so pretty.
The last bit of light before the magic begins.
And then, slowly, slowly, the sun sank and the blue hour began.
Let’s take a walk down this boardwalk.
Earlier in the day I had scoped out a place to set up, hoping that the Milky Way would be near the lighthouse from my vantage point. The compass said it should be. But I knew I only had one night so I hoped I wasn’t wrong.
The beginning of blue hour on the beach.
I waited impatiently. It takes forever for the night to get truly dark. And then….a few stars decide to turn on their lights.
Here we go…
I still couldn’t tell exactly where the Milky Way was going to shine…but the stars made me smile anyway. And then….finally, finally, there it was. It was pretty darn amazing. I don’t know why the beach wasn’t full of people just staring.
Take a moment and just look.
I stayed out there a long time. A lot of it not shooting, just standing there, in the moment.
Because, really, how many shots can you take of the same lighthouse with the Milky Way? Well, as it turns out…several dozen. You see, the dark sky requires that you have a high ISO and a wide open aperture and that causes grainy shots.
Beautiful without the lighthouse too.
But you can stack them. Did you know that? There’s software that will lay your photos, one on top of the other, and match up your stars and eliminate anything different. And that clears up a lot of the grainy noise. Huh. So I was taking 7 shots of each shot, in preparation for stacking. But I learned, just this week, I should have taken 10 to 15 shots to stack.
Ah well.
Many of my images had these streaks. I never saw it when I was on the beach, but some people say this light in the sky is the Sky-Link satellites.Zoom in and see what you think.
So, anyway, these are single images, no stacking here, just a little editing to bring out the whites and sometimes to lift the shadows.
I still have so much to learn…so many technical things that I can do to make the images more clear, more beautiful. But the Milky Way season here in Michigan is almost over. There will be one more chance in October, just a few nights, and then I’ll have to be patient until 2023.
Just to show you, we are never alone, the sky is full of stuff flying around.
Yea right. I can hardly handle waiting for the sun to set in a single evening. How am I going to get through months of no Milky Way?
Let’s see…last you knew I was hanging out in Mackinaw City waiting for it to stop raining so I could continue on over the bridge to my next adventure.
It was such a beautiful night.
Yep, I was feeling pretty good. Almost kinda certain that I had gotten some decent Milky Way shots at my last location. Of course I didn’t really know, but was feeling good about it.
The other end of the Milky Way.
And I was so excited to be heading to a new (to me) location to find more dark skies. I had a campsite booked for three nights at Fayette State Park which is located at the bottom of the “Garden Peninsula,” a piece of land jutting down into Lake Michigan from the southern edge of the UP. Should be perfect, right?
Well…wrong. When I arrived at the park about 4 p.m. and drove to my site I found a very small site (not necessarily a deal breaker) that was entirely sloped, about the size of 2 cars, and totally a mud pit.
Out of focus because I was speeding away.
I sat there in the drizzle for the amount of time it took me to say”H*LL NO,” and then I drove the long 14 miles back up to civilization where I sat beside the road and searched the internet for a cheap hotel.
Where do I go now?
Along the way, down and back up, I did note that the Garden Peninsula itself was beautiful. With lots of barns and windmills and such.
So that made it a bit easier when I had to drive back down there again to formally check out of the campground that I never camped in so that I could get a refund for the other two nights.
A barn being renovated.
A sixty dollar refund was worth the drive too. I should have just checked out the evening before when I decided not to stay but I was so freaked out by the campground I just ran.
Mama cow wants me to move along.
I made reservations at another state park, Indian Lake, which pretty close to the town of Manistique. It was a much nicer place, with larger camp sites and grass. It wasn’t full my first night so I had a distant view of the lake, though the second night someone camped behind me. Still, I had plenty of room.
Much better. Grass and a view.
And it was only three miles away from the lighthouse where I spent a lot of hours waiting for a sunset and hoping for a chance at a decent Milky Way image.
Did I get that image? Well, as usually this post is getting too long, and I still have lots of images to edit. So I guess you’ll have to wait and see.
Not much of a sunset….but there was the anticipation of stars.
I just had another 2 hour lesson from my Milky Way teacher and I now know more about what I don’t know. I guess I need to get out there for another practice session!
Here it is already a week since we drove home from our UP adventure and I still have more to show you. Maybe I should stop talking and just let you look.
Oh! I almost forgot! I had whitefish tacos with pickled onions for lunch, our first day, in Paradise Michigan!
On our third and last day in the UP we got headed west toward Grand Marais where I assured my friend we’d find more stones.
If you stop at the little places along the way you’re liable to find the most amazing things.
But along the way we drove up to Deer Park, north of Newberry, and then along Lake Superior’s coast and stopped at a delightful little beach with the prettiest stones!
Just a little stretch of perfect beach.
I don’t think I found any flat white ones, but my friend found quite a few beautiful souvenirs.
They’re even prettier when they’re wet.
And we left a souvenir for someone else to find too.
I hope this doggie has a new forever home now!
And then we headed over to Grand Marais.
A walk to the beach.
Many people searching this beach are looking for agates. I wouldn’t know an agate from a rubber duck, so I just looked for flat white stones to paint. I didn’t find many of those either.
The sky was almost as mesmerizing as the water.
But the weather was beautiful with big fluffs of white clouds dressing up the sky and we had a great time wandering.
There were lots of rock hunters out on such a beautiful day.
We didn’t stay long, we were hungry and still had miles to go to get to Munising, our next stop. But we left a painted treasure for someone to find before we left.
A fish and his food wait for his person to find him.
It’s kind of a long way to go for a sandwich, but we enjoyed the glimpses of Lake Superior that we found along the way. We were hoping to stop at a couple of waterfalls in Munising before heading back to Whitefish Point for the sunset.
Do you see the surprise?
We ate at Subway, noting exotic, but filling. And of course we stopped for a visit with Munising’s Bigfoot, where we left another treasure.
The traffic was terrible in Munising, backed up for miles coming into town from 3 directions. We decided to nix the idea of getting in line to get out to one of the waterfalls, and headed to one that was on the way out of town, Wagner Falls.
The wildflowers, Joe Pye, goldenrod and queen anne’s lace were so beautiful this trip.
There’s a short mostly flat boardwalk back to the falls, and we were lucky that there weren’t many people stopping for a visit.
We took a few pictures…
The roots were pretty too, but I wish people would be kinder to nature.
…and then hid our treasure and were on our way back toward Whitefish Point.
Hidden in plain sight.
We had a long drive to get there before sunset, but we arrived early enough to appreciate the golden light on all the driftwood, and the clouds streaking the sky. This could turn out to be a stunning sunset!
The light was like this for only a few moments.
We wandered the beach, noticing how pretty everything was in the evening light…
Black ‘sand’ filled the crevices in the lighter sand. Art created by nature.
… and how the beach moves and changes every day.
A little bit of art in the middle of nature’s art.
We found a couple of places to hide more treasure and then waited for the sun to settle down and set.
Is the sky going to get prettier? Or is this it for the evening?
Most people left the beach once the sun was below the horizon, but we were out there for the long haul (and to find Yooper Lights) so we waited in the cooling air to see what would happen next.
An eagle appeared at the horizon.
And we were rewarded by intense color and beautiful shapes. It just kept getting better until it finally died into grey. The sun was done for the day, but we weren’t.
The last of the sunset and the beginning of the search.
After the sun was down we looked for Yooper Lights (stones that glow in inferred light) along with a few other late night stone addicts.
Nothing under here.
Though we didn’t find any that night, the night before, on a cold windy evening, we witnessed a young boy and his dad find a stone that glowed. The boy was soooo excited, jumping up and down in the cold Superior waves. We got him and his dad to show us what the stone looked like, and in the midst of the conversation the boy turned and looked at us, his eyes wide and said:
“I really wish I was wearing long pants!”
We roared in laughter, in all the excitement he’d been running in and out of the water of the coldest lake around without a care. Until he stopped to talk to us.
Saying goodbye to Whitefish Point. We’ll be back!
And that’s kind of the way our whole trip was. We didn’t always find what we set out to see, the perfect rock, the perfect view, the perfect sunset.
Trying to get capture that moon.
But the excitement of the whole experience kept us motivated to continue the adventure regardless. And though there were moments we wished we were wearing long pants, on the whole, it was a perfect summer trip. Mosquitoes and all.
Hoping to be noticed.
And just think, there are all those treasures out there just waiting to be found.
No, I’ve never seen them in person. Well. I might have seen a tiny bit of some once, but I’m not sure.
I’ve been watching all the great Northern Light images popping up on Facebook. Many are being shot in northern Michigan, often very near where I used to live a lifetime ago. Sometimes I can tell exactly where the photographer was standing because I’ve stood there myself.
Creating pollution, light and otherwise while waiting for the Northern Lights.
Now days I live far away from the northern reaches of the Upper Peninsulia which would be my first choice of viewing locations. It’s just not practical to jump in the car when conditions are right and drive ten hours on the off chance the dancing lights appear.
It was a crazy night.
But I’m sure, sooner or later, I’ll be in the right place at the right time. In fact I was, kind of, a couple years ago.
I never saw this fist cloud that night, only when I reviewed images later.
These are photos from 2019 when we were in the UP in the fall and northern lights were predicted. Not only predicted among local northern light buffs, but also on national news networks. Everyone knew there should be lights that night.
Is there some green light over there?
Which is why we found ourselves on a beach looking out at Lake Superior along with a few thousand of our closest friends, all of whom were enjoying bonfires producing smoke obscuring the sky.
Bad composition, but the Milky Way is there.
Yep. That’s the closest I ever got to seeing the Northern Lights.
They’re out there somewhere.I never did figure out what that red spot was in the water.
It was a crazy night, and though I was facinated by the others on the beach, mostly Michigan Tech students, we couldn’t see much of anything out over the water. I didn’t even look at these images when we finally made it home from our adventures. We’d seen so many other wonderful things that trip I never thought about these shots at all.
But I have to say…maybe, just maybe I did see some Northern Lights that night. In spite of myself.
There were people and bonfires as far down the beach as we could see. In both directions.
Note: These aren’t great images, but to see them at all you’ll probably need to be in a dark room and looking at something larger than your phone.
The Upper Peninsula is mostly rural. Though there are small towns everywhere, and a few larger more urban areas, much of it is woods and water. That’s why I like it so much.
Someone cared enough to paint the trim.
But as I travel around I always notice the old homesteads. The places where people once lived but have abandoned. Nature is gradually taking back what was always hers.
Somehow the goldenrod made this one seem a bit friendly.
I think about the people that used to live here. I wonder what happened to make them leave. I wonder what dreams they had when they first built, moved in, worked the land or at the neighborhood store. I wonder when and why they gave up on their dreams.
Sometimes, in cold climates, bright colors help to make the winter more tolerable.
Maybe they haven’t left at all, maybe they’re around the next corner, maybe they just built a bigger, stronger house somewhere.
This one was already quite large. Love the virginia creeper taking over the porch.
My adventuring continues into the Upper Peninsualia of Michigan where I intended to spend a few days exploring the Seney Wildlife Refuge.
The refuge is a giant wetland, with lots of water and grasses.
Years ago when I lived in the UP I always thought I’d visit, but you know how it is when you live near somewhere cool. You always figure you can do it next week, and next week never comes around.
I couldn’t find an eagle’s nest
Late Sunday afternoon I drove the seven mile wildlife drive under pretty skies. I had the big lens on the camera, expecting to see lots of birds. But all I saw was a pair of sandhill cranes flying and a couple of ducks. I didn’t even hear much of anything.
I heard them before I saw them.
One issue I can see with driving a wildlife route rather than walking, is you’re never going to sneak up on anything. Though to be honest I didn’t even scare up anything.
These are the same two cranes that flew by.
But the trees and water were pretty, so I decided to switch lenses and just enjoy what there was to enjoy.
Light through dying ferns.
The refuge is beautiful, but I wondered what I’d do for four nights camping nearby. I decided to worry about that when I got there.
Meanwhile, I had a reservation at the Pleasant Moose Lodge for one night while I waited for my campsite to be available. I was tired by now, driving up from downstate, then exploring the refuge. I was ready to find the hotel.
But darn it, neither my GPS in the car nor on my phone could find this pleasant moose. I drove up and down the road looking, and saw plenty of places with moose art displayed, but all I saw whenever I was told “you have arrived at your destination,” was a decrepit rundown set of cabins. No way. It was getting on toward evening now and I was going to have to find somewhere to stay if these cabins were really the lodge!
Guess I didn’t notice this big green moose when I was driving by.
So I pulled into a parking lot called the Pleasant Moose and a pleasant guy answered the phone and talked me in.
Whew!
Imagine my relief when I saw it was a real hotel, just tucked way back behind some other stuff. I spent an uneventful evening, enjoying my last night of a real bed, shower and television before heading out to camp for 4 nights.
The next morning I needed to find something to do while I waited to check into my campground. I remembered seeing pictures of Crisp Point Lighthouse that was somewhere around here. Checking the map, and putting it into my GPS I set off. It was about 20+ miles away, but GPS said it would take me an hour.
The trees are beginning to turn up here.
What GPS didn’t tell me is that more than 15 miles of the trip will be on increasingly narrower dirt and sandy roads.
More narrow, and sandier.
Roads that wind up and down and around. My average speed on the last 15 miles was 14. The last 7 miles it was closesr to 8 mph. I couldn’t believe it when, with only 5 more miles to go there was actually a stop sign.
Seriously? Is there an intersection coming up?
But all that crazy driving was worth it to find this.
My first glimpse of Crisp Point Lighthouse.
The lighthouse is absoutely beautiful. And yes you can go up to the top for a donation.
As I wandered the beach the clouds moved in.
The beach is equally beautiful.
Nobody can resist these rocks!
It’s strewn with wide swaths of smooth, rounded stones. A rock picker’s paradise.
The water was too cold to go wading after these beauties.
I kept telling myself not to pick up any rocks. Not to even look closely at any rocks. I have plenty at home.
I had to touch. They were so smooth, this one reminded me of an granite egg.
But they were soooo beautiful!
I was also facinated by what I guess was an old wooden breakwall.
I love how the sun made it glow.
It was actually two rows of logs driven into the ground.
Engineering from a generation ago.
Eventually I walked back up to the lighthouse and checked out what was on the other side. The light was better over there anyway.
People were picking rocks….
The beach was sandier with fewer rocks on that side.
…and climbing the tower.
A lighthouse selfie.
It was beautiful out there! But it was time to head back down that winding, sandy road.
Quintessential beach photo.
The trip back out to the main road wasn’t nearly as scary as it had been driving in.
I enjoyed the leaves on my way back and didn’t worry about the road as much.
My campsite was waiting for me.
When I arrived the office was closed, but they had taped instructions for me to the door. I gathered those and drove to my site, a big, grassy relatively flat spot with a view of the river. I pulled the tent out of the car and realized as I was unfolding it that the rainfly was missing. And it was beginning to rain.
OH MY! What to do.
Obviously I couldn’t tent without a rainfly. Especially since it was already raining. Disgusted I threw the tent back in the car, went up to the office, put the rest of my reservation money folded into their instructions, along with an explantion note, and taped it to the door.
Then I drove back toward town, intent on calling the Pleasant Moose to see if they had a room. But a few miles away I thought I should call the campground and tell them there was money taped to their office door, wanting to make sure they got it rather than some nefarious camper.
The owner answered, and I explained and she was as sad as I was. Then she said she had a tent I could borrower! Really! Yes, she said, it’s just a 4 person tent, nothing fancy. That’s all I had myself, I replied. She said she’d go set it up on my site if I’d come back.
So I did. And this is what I found:
Isn’t this cute?
This campground comes with a mascot.
He waited around to make sure I was OK, then he went off on his rounds.
So….here I am camping in the UP in someone else’s tent, ready to visit a refuge I’ve already explored.
Seems like the weather all across the country has gone crazy. Temperatures over 100F (37.7C) in Oregon where it’s usually cool and wet. Flash flood producing rains here in lower Michigan and elsewhere.
At first I thought the only barn photos I’d get would be from the Plaza reststops on the turnpike.
Everything here is soggy from days and days of constant rain, and it’s been raining all day today too. You’d think I’d be kind of depressed by all the dark skies and thick humid air. But I’m not. In fact I’m finding it sort of cozy to be curled up inside on the sofa listening to rain on the windows.
Right up against a winding, hilly road, I’m surprised it hasn’t been hit and taken out by a truck.
There’s no pressure to go out and weed, though that’s going to be a huge job once it stops raining. No walks in the park, no bike rides that I never seem to get to. Just lots of time to attend meetings and get clerical stuff done for the two nonprofits where I volunteer.
These first images are from Pennsylvania, with picturesque farms tucked away in the mountains.
Even Katie seems content to nap. Though she’s starting to hint that she’d like to post here soon. She says she has stuff to say. Of course she does. She’s a sheltie.
I loved the cows in the front yard.
But this post was supposed to be about what made me smile lately, so let me tell you about a impromtu trip I made to Baltimore this past weekend.
Perfectly iconic farm.
The Truck Safety Coalition was putting on a small local lunch with a couple of important objectives. One, it was an opportunity for the volunteers local to that area to get together after the long Covid shutdown. And two, we just hired a new Executive Director, and he would be attending, so it was something of a welcome lunch.
In Ohio, the wheat was ripening.
My husband and I decided to go. Katie had been eating well for almost a month and seemed like her old self. I booked her for 4 nights at camp. We planned on driving the nine hour trip, my husband’s first excursion since early 2020.
I had great weather, no significant rain the whole weekend.
Then, 2 days before our departure Katie decided she no longer liked the food she’d happily been eating. We began to hand feed her, one kibble bit at a time. Sometimes she wanted it dry. Sometimes she wanted it wet. Sometimes she’d only eat it if it was soggy.
No way she could go to camp.
Wide open flat vistas.
So husband stayed home with her and I went alone. I spread the trip over two days each way, and most of it was on either the Ohio or Pennsylvania turnpike. As you might imagine I saw lots of beautiful barns. But it was such a hassle to get on and off the turnpike, particularly in Ohio, that on the way over I didn’t stop or take a single photo.
My last day of driving was such a pretty day.
But, after a wonderful weekend among friends, on the way home I stopped twice, once in Pennsylvania and once in Ohio. Each time I drove a big country block and stopped for whatever barns I could find, then jumped right back on the turnpike again.
Red barns and golden wheat sure were pretty.
So the images in this post are from those two wanderings. I can’t show you the images I took at the lunch because I don’t have permission from any of those people to go public. Plus, it was just a bunch of pictures of people most of you don’t know eating and talking and laughing.
Add in some orange ditch lilies and you can’t help but stop for a photo!
Suffice it to say it was wonderful to be back with my Truck Safety Family, though sadly we had two new families represented. There are always new families and that’s the part that doesn’t make me smile.
But barns? Barns will always put a big ole grin on my face.
This one was a gift shop that wasn’t open when I drove by. The better not to spend more money!
I’m starting to feel repetitive here. All three of these lighthouses have appeared in this blog in years past. Still, lighthouses are irresistible, so maybe you won’t mind seeing them again. I didn’t mind visiting them again myself.
I was exploring the northern edge of the Upper Peninsualia, when I noticed a sign for Point Iroquois Light, and I remembered visiting it a few years ago.
A beautiful building.
During all the years I lived in the UP I never knew about this lighthouse. But it’s a special one, on a beautiful piece of land with a great view of Canada.
Canadian windmills across the way.
When we were here before it was open and we climbed the tower. This year covid has it closed, but I still enjoyed walking around the grounds. I was taking a picture of the lilac bushes along the front of the lighthouse when I realized there were butterflies everywhere.
Do you see them in this image?
So now you’ll have to indulge me while I show you some of those.
Hold still for a moment!
I spent a long time circling this lilac bush, trying to get a good shot of both types of butterflies.
I love the colors on the underside of this guy’s wings.
They didn’t stay still long, especially, it seemed, never stopping long in the sunlight.
Did you know the body of the monarch is spotted? I didn’t until just a couple weeks ago!
But it was so much fun to try. And in the end I got a few shots that I liked.
What a spectacularly beautiful day.
During this trip I camped at two locations, the first on the Straights, and the second at the mouth of the Hurricane River, where it empties into Lake Superior.
My site tucked into the trees. This was a beautiful, but rustic, campground.
This campground has a lighthouse too. You walk a mile and a half up a beautiful, wide, mostly level path above the shore of Lake Superior, out to the point where the lighthouse sits.
It’s a really pretty walk, though 1.5 miles starts to feel like a long way if you’re carrying all your photography gear.
My goal, when I made the reservation for this campground, was to do some night photography with the lighthouse in the foreground. It was a good plan.
Some of the coast here is rocky. All of it is beautiful.
I walked out there late in the afternoon one day. No one was out there, covid had this lighthouse closed too, so no park rangers were around.
Almost there!
No tourists either as the wind was picking up and another storm was on the way.
Au Sable Light Station, a beautiful compound.
It was kind of nice to have the place to myself.
I loved the colors of the brown ferns in the late afternoon light, with the red brick outbuilding.
On the other hand, it was still a couple of hours until the sun set, and a few more hours after that until it got really dark.
And I loved these sweet daisys with this building down near the water.
I started to feel uncomfortable with the thought of walking back down the path in the dark by myself. Plus there were no open restrooms out there.
The weather was changing.
So I reluctantly gave up on the idea of staying there until the stars came out. But I haven’t given it up totally. I plan to go back but bring someone with me so I’m not out there all alone!
The view from up there is stunning!
In the end it was good I headed back when I did. That evening the thunder began far off and quickly advanced until it was overhead. We ended up having 7 hours of pouring rain, lightening and thunder. I listened to it all from my cozy tent, glad I wasn’t running back through the dark and rain from the point!
As I listened to the pouring rain that night I thought about this open window in the tower. Bet no one closed it before the storm.
My last lighthouse is out at Whitefish Point. It’s a totally different sort of lighthouse from the other two.
This is the image everyone gets from the parking lot. It was starting to rain when I grabbed it.
And the beach there is totally different too.
Filled with huge fallen trees turned driftwood, tossed about by Lake Superior, it’s certainly not a swimmer’s paradise.
I had grand plans of trying to get the Milky Way behind the lighthouse. Or at least some stars.
Would have been cool with the Milky Way behind it.
It was sunny and 85 degrees when I left to drive up to Whitefish Point. When I arrived it was 58, windy and thunder was just off to the west. Another plan foiled.
And then the storm arrived.
So there you have it. Three lighthouses along the south shore of Lake Superior. Worth the trip even if I didn’t capture what I set out to get. I guess that’s the fun (and frustration) of photography.
There’s always next year. You won’t mind seeing them again, right?
While I was camping in the Upper Peninsula last week I got to roam around several waterfalls. I’d been to all of them in years past, and if you’re a long time reader you’ve probably seen them all. But come along with me anyway, you deserve a short break and waterfalls are fun.
The biggest waterfalls in Michigan are near Newberry in the Upper Peninsula. Tahquamen Falls are a big tourist attraction, there’s a state park campground there, and a few hotels in neighboring towns. I just drove over from my campsite down at St. Ignance.
The view from the trail to the falls.
The upper falls are the highest. Notice the red tint to some of the water? That’s tannin from the cedar trees growing along the banks of the river. Sometimes the whole thing looks like frothy rootbeer. You can walk down a lot of stairs to see it from river level.
Should I or shouldn’t I?
Of course I did.
The view from down at the river.
On the way back up I stopped to take this picture of the rocky walls the river has cut away over hundreds of years. Don’t tell anyone, but taking pictures is a good way to rest when you’re having trouble breathing on your way up a whole lot of stairs.
Carved by the river centuries ago.
Then you can take more stairs down to the brink of the falls.
Definitely don’t want to skip this!
It’s important to take these stairs down so you can get a good, closeup look.
Sometimes it’s good to have a hand to hold on to.
Even if your knees and back are protesting.
Getting up close.
Then you can walk the four miles through the woods to the lower falls. Not many people do that, as the trail is quite rustic. I drove. Those stairs were plenty of exercise for me.
When you get to the lower falls you walk along a boardwalk back to get a good view of the falls.
I love this walk almost as much as the falls themselves.
Some years, when there’s less water kids play in them. But not this year! The noise and spray were pretty intense.
Lots of water roaring over the falls.
You can rent a rowboat and paddle over to an island where it’s safe to play in the water. As I was taking pictures I heard the thunder of a storm coming in. The people working at the rowboat station were calling everyone to come back, to get off the water. Everyone did but one young lady who was having trouble paddling in a straight line.
I don’t think he was a lot of help.
I enjoyed Tahquamen Falls, though I lost my phone somewhere there. I don’t remember putting it down anywhere, the last thing I remember doing was taking a picture at the bottom of the first set of stairs. Once back at the car I realized I didn’t have it and I traced my path again, all those stairs included, but never found it.
Ah well, it was pretty anyway.
I learned there are ways to survive without a phone, and continued on my trip, heading north and camping at Hurricane River. From there I explored a few waterfalls, the first being Sable Falls, just a few miles from the campground.
Guess what? There were stairs, even more stairs than at Tahquamen!
They have a sense of humor at Sable Falls.
But it was worth it! No one was there but a fisherman who was further down the river. I set up the tripod and had fun working on smoothing out that flowing water.
Such a pretty waterfall.
But I forgot to carry down my remote shutter release. So after I shot a few images by physically touching the shutter, and worried that I might have moved the camera doing that, I climbed back up the stairs to my car, grabbed the shutter release and clomped back down.
Smoothing out all the edges.
To be honest, I don’t know which of these pictures used the shutter release and which might have been just me and my finger. It didn’t make any difference, but you never know. It was worth the extra steps to me.
Then I drove over to Munising which has several falls. I visited Wagner Falls which has a small parking lot and a short walk back to the falls along a boardwalk…
This was a small waterfall on the walk back to the main event.
..where along the way you can hear the water flowing over the falls hidden by the trees.
Another beautiful waterfall. And very few stairs!
I can’t decide which image I like better of this falls, so I’ll show you both.
Water glides over the rocks.
Then I drove into town and visited Munising Falls. There’s a visitor center there with information about the area, and a very short level walk back to the falls.
The water was ethereal.
Both Wagner and Munising falls are easy walks from the parking lots. I recommend you visit them yourselves if you’re ever up there!
Last time I was up in that part of the woods (literally woods!) my husband and I walked the mile back to Miners Falls in the snow.
No bugs to speak of on that trip.
This year it was getting dark and the bugs were bad, so I didn’t. Plus, have I mentioned tourists? I hadn’t been in the UP (Upper Peninsalia) in tourist season in years. I’d forgotten about all those darn tourists everywhere!
I did drive out to see Miner’s Castle, a rock formation that you shouldn’t miss, and you get this vantage point from very near the parking lot. You can also walk down to see it closer. But did I mention tourists?
Spectacular.
So those are the waterfalls I had the opportunity to visit this trip. I hope you enjoyed them, it was nice to have company on all those stairs…and while I was running from the black flies!
Next up, maybe I’ll show you lighthouses….or maybe it will just be other pretty things. I have to hurry up or I’ll be talking about this camping trip the rest of the summer!
Watching birds fly over in the morning light from my cozy tent.
Change Is Hard 