Zion Day 3: The Narrows

If Zion National Park is famous for one thing, it is the Narrows.  At the top of the main canyon the walls of Zion Canyon close in around the Virgin River for several miles.  This long section of steep canyon is incredibly picturesque and sometimes perilous.  If a sudden thunderstorm pops up somewhere in the headwaters, possibly hundreds of miles away, a wall of water can come crashing through the canyon sweeping everything and everyone in its path away.  Flash floods played an important role in the formation of the canyons and continue to play a key role in the various ecosystems that call Zion home.  That said, they are nothing to mess around with.  A hiker caught in the Narrows during a flash flood would have poor chances of survival.  

Doing the Narrows as a thru-hike requires obtaining a hard-to-get permit, securing a shuttle from a private outfitter to the north entrance, and completing an arduous 16 mile trek through the Virgin River.  The more common, and approachable way to experience the Narrows is hike up hill (or upstream) from the north end of the Riverwalk at the Temple of Sinawava.  Doing the hike in this way allows one to hike as long as he or she wants before turning around.  This was our plan today.  

We caught the shuttle from the visitor center after breakfast, and judging by the capacity crowd riding the bus with us, it was going to be a busy day in the Narrows.  It was easy to spot hikers heading for the Narrows by the water shoes, swimsuits and wading poles used to help negotiate the rocks and varied depths on the bottom of the Virgin River.  

Sure enough, all but a few of the riders on the bus road all the way to the Temple of Sinawava.  It was an unusual experience to be hiking a trail with hundreds of other people and reminded me of the Avalanche Creek hike in Glacier National Park.  The crowd heading up the paved Riverwalk trail included all manner of hikers, from children to intrepid-looking adventurers in their twenties, to senior citizens and folks in wheelchairs.  The riverwalk wound between the increasingly narrow canyon walls, always within sight of the crystal clear waters of the Virgin River.  After an easy, one mile walk, the trail ended at a platform overlooking the river.  A set of steps lead down to the sandy beach, and this was it for man-made trail features.  

The morning air was still cool, and the steep canyon walls blocked the sun this early in the day.  The first few steps into the river were alarming to the skin.  The water, derived from snow melt in distant mountains, and springs throughout the canyon, was about 50 degrees.  The path upstream wound from one side of the river to the other.  Occasional sandbars with scatterings of trees and bushes provided relief from the cold water and awkward footing of the river.  The canyon walls gradually grew in height and closed in around the river on both sides.  

After about an hour of careful walking in and around calf-deep water the walls rapidly closed in around the river.  The sandbars and trees became less frequent, and the water deeper and faster.  It was now necessary to wade through deep holes in the river at times.  The views became increasingly spectacular.  Sandstone walls measuring in the thousands of feet in height closed in around the canyon.  Hanging gardens, growing from seeping springs in the rock walls dangled down over the river.  An American dipper darted down to the surface and landed on a rock.

The Dipper, also called a water ouzel, is a fascinating western bird.  This favorite of naturalist explorer John Muir lands on rocks on the surface of the river and "dips" his head up and down while surveying the river for bugs.  When he spots one, he dives under the surface of the water and flaps his wings in order to swim through the water.  The American Dipper is the only bird known to exhibit this behavior.

Somewhere after the junction with Orderville Canyon the air finally began to grow hot in the midday sun.  What an ideal way to spend a day - wading knee (and sometimes waste) deep through cold, crystal clear water on a hot sunny day, all while gazing up at monoliths carved from sandstone over several million years.  The formations in the sandstone very much reminded me of Michigan's Pictured Rocks, only instead of 200 feet tall, they towered 2,000 feet over our heads.

We stopped for lunch on a rock somewhere past Orderville Canyon.  The canyon walls seem to be opening up finally, letting in more daylight in this portion of the hike, so we decided this would be our turn-around point.  

After lunch we began picking our way downstream in the much warmer air.  Walking with the current was actually harder than against it, as the force of the water threatened to knock us over as we fought for precarious foot placement.  I tried to make use of my knowledge of water from whitewater kayaking classes, but to little avail - it was just hard work.

When we returned to the junction with Orderville Canyon we decided to take a side trip up this narrow canyon.  Mary found a nice rest spot on the banks of the river while I hiked farther up the canyon.  A handful of other hikers headed up the same canyon.  This side canyon climbed much more steeply than the Virgin River.  I had to pull myself up, over and around a variety of obstacles in the river.  The most challenging of these was a 3-4 foot water fall.  On the left side of the river was a large sandstone rock blocking the path.  The middle featured a "notch" with several logs and rocks.  On the right side was a large waterfall.  

My first approach was to scramble up the sandstone.  The sandstone turned out to be very slick, and I ended up sliding backwards into the river.  Next, I tried the middle route, but found it too awkward to get the needed foot and hand holds to pull myself up.  The third route, climbing up the waterfall was dubious.  I got about half way up the cascade, but found the force of the water too strong to overcome.  

Just when I was about to give up, a teenage girl came along.  She wedged her feet into the rocks in the middle of the river and squeezed between the downed trees and pulled herself to the top.  Now I had no choice.  I could do the same thing, or look really lame in front of a crowd of hikers gathering at the base of the falls.  She offered to take my trekking pole for me, which made it a bit easier to get a grip with two hands.  I managed to get my feet wedged into the rock, and grabbed ahold of the top of the obstacle.    This left me in an uncomfortable position, with me feet tucked under me and my arms essentially behind and above me.  I was forced to turn sideways and shimmy up the rest of the way.  My day pack dragged loudly on the downed-tree, but happily did not prevent me from reaching the top.  

Above the obstacle, and with my pride intact, I resumed climbing up the river.  Their were a few more obstacles to get around, but nothing seemed too daunting now.  The canyon rapidly opened up now, allowing the hot sun to stream through.  Many trees and shrubs grew on both sides of the river.  After about thirty minutes I reached the waterfall I was seeking.  A five foot slot waterfall blocked further passage up the river, or at least that's what my guide book said.  Today, there was a large downed tree pinned in the falls.  I think it might have been possible to climb over this obstacle today and venture farther into the side canyon.  I didn't want to keep Mary waiting any longer, so I decided to call this far enough.

When I returned to where I had left her, Mary was asleep on a rock on the banks of the river.  She had no idea how much time had passed.  Looks like I had nothing to worry about!  

We made our way back into the main canyon and continued downstream.  The air was now hot, and the sun shone directly overhead.  The canyon was crowded with hikers headed in both direction.  People swam, waded and just plain floated in every direction.  The afternoon light flooded into the canyon, casting enchanting shadows on the walls and water.

We made our way back out of the canyon the way we had come, stopping to swim periodically, whenever the afternoon heat become too much. 

By the time we climbed back aboard the shuttle bus, we were ready to collapse with exhaustion.  There are only so many things in life that live up to their reputations.  The Narrows of Zion are certainly one of them.  As I look back over my pictures from the day, I am frustrated, because they do not come close to doing justice to the spectacular beauty of this place.  Today was a magnificent day of exploring.

.  

Zion Day 2: observation point

The alarm sounded at 5:30 am this morning.  The air was still chilly outside the tent and the sun was well hidden behind the east canyon walls.  We made a quick breakfast, loaded up our day packs with water and headed off for the visitor center to catch the park bus.  We had learned our lesson the previous day about getting an early start.  The morning air was cool and refreshing. 

We took the bus up to the Weeping Rock trailhead we had visited yesterday, but today's hike would take us way up into the high canyon walls to observation point for a dramatic overlook of Zion Canyon.

Just passed the trailhead was sign warning that people had fallen to their deaths on this trail in the past.  The trail started innocently enough.  The surface of the trail was a hard rock that almost looked paved, but wasn't.  The trail switchbacked for about 500 feet, climbing the canyon walls.  Even in the early morning cool, we were both huffing and puffing by the time we reached the intersection with the Hidden Canyon Trail.  The parking lot and road below looked like something out of a matchbox set by this point.  The  walls of the West Canyon started to glow orange in the growing sunlight.  

We were treated to an aerial show by two Peregrin Falcons.  They dropped down off a cliff above us and plunged towards the canyon floor in pursuit of a song bird.  Peregrin Falcons can fly over 200 miles per hour when diving from a high point.  Watching them reminded me of fighter jets in a dogfight scene in a movie.  

Following the junction the trail continued to switch back high over the canyon floor.  We could soon see past Big Bend, where the Virgin River snaked around Angel's Landing.  The drop offs on the canyon side of the trail rapidly grew as we hiked. We were certainly close to a thousand feet over the canyon floor.  

I was expecting the trail to continue switchbacking all the way to the top of the wall.  It was a pleasant surprise then, when it turned into a side canyon and began to work its way back away from the main canyon.  A slot canyon appeared to one side.  The floor of this new canyon gradually climbed up to meet the trail.  Trees grew on all sides of the trail during this stretch, evidence that water does find its way down this canyon during floods.  We were glad today wasn't one of those days!

As the trail continued to climb through the canyon the walls turned to sandstone - a brilliant shade of orange that I would expect to find in a contemporary living room.  The air was cold and crisp in these enclosed canyon walls.  Every sound we made echoed into the abyss below us.  

 
 

  The trail eventually broke out onto the other side of the wall.  We were now on the East side of the canyon wall.  The sun shone down relentlessly.  I was glad we started hiking early, as the air was quickly becoming oppressively hot.  The trail resumed switch backing up the East side of the canyon wall.  The views to the East were spectacular - towering domes of rock stretched as far as the eye could see.  The trail was lined with Juniper and Pinyon Pines and the occasional cactus.  It was a surreal environment to hike through. 

After an hour of climbing through the hot desert sun, the trail finally broke through to a ridge.  It climbed gradually along the ridge and made its way back to the west side of the canyon wall.  We were then treated to a soft sandstone and sand trail surface for hiking and occasional shade from Ponderosa Pines and large Pinyon Pines.  The views were now to the West - providing a stunning perspective of Zion Valley.

We broke out onto a large flat area - the top of a messa.  We were surrounded by low brush and cacti through this stretch of the hike.  The trail was delightfully flat as we made out way the rest of the way to observation point. 

The views from observation point were stunning.  The Virgin River looked like someone had drawn a scribbly line in the sand with a pencil.  Angel's Landing was south and below us.  With my binoculars I could make out people standing at the edge.   Vultures, Ravens and White Throated Swifts circled high overhead while we ate our lunch.  

After a lengthy lunch break to enjoy the views, we made the knee-pounding descent back to the trailhead the way we had come up.  The mid-day heat settled in, and the hikers passing us on their way up looked miserable!

We finished our hike in a little under five hours.  We took the shuttle bus up to the Zion Lodge and treated ourselves to ice cream cones.  The afternoon was spent napping in the shade underneath a giant Cottonwood Tree in front of the lodge.  Not bad for a Tuesday!
 
 
 
 
 
 

 

Zion Day 1

The drive across Colorado was spectacular.  The highway climbed over several mountain passes as it snaked its way to the southwest.  At one point we climbed above 11,000 feet of elevation.  The land on either side of us had snow still clinging to it, and at one point we witnessed a still frozen lake below.  

As we made our way into southwestern Colorado the terrain rapidly changed.  First, the snow vanished, and the mountains began to take on a reddish brown look to them.  The highway dropped into Glenwood Canyon for a while, offering sheer rock walls on either side.  That anyone was able to construct a highway in such a terrain was fascinating to me.  

Crossing into Utah, the landscape changed dramatically.  Wide open land stretched as far as the eye could see in every direction.  Snow capped peaks loomed on the horizon to the south.  The sparseness of the terrain was only broken occasionally by the towering rock formations the highway would climb between.  It quickly became clear that Utah was going to be a strange environment for our midwestern eyes.  

 

 
 Eventually we reached the intersection with I-15 and the route turned south.  The posted speed limit was 80 mph which made for quick travel.  The mileage signs for Las Vegas served to remind us of how far from home we had really come.  

By the time we made the drive into Springdale, UT to the south of the park it was close to 8 pm and we were thoroughly sick of driving and of being trapped in the Jeep.  The road into the park was stunning.  Towering rock formations blocked out the sun on either side of the canyon.  The thermostat on the dashboard read 105 degrees.  We were nervous that we had arrived to late for a first-come first served campsite for the night as we approached the entry station.  The park ranger said that all of the campgrounds were listed as full, but that if we check the reservation only Watchman Campground we might get lucky if someone cancelled at the last minute.  He also warned us about the heat in the park and advised us to drink lots of water and hike in the early morning hours.

A few minutes later we were at the Watchman Campground.  I held my breath while Mary asked if they had any last minute sites.  We were in luck!  One site was open, and it was a beauty.  It provided a gorgeous view of The Watchman to the East.  As soon as we hopped out of the Jeep to set up camp we were taken aback by the wave of dry heat that enveloped us.  The air just felt heavy.  I found it hard to summon the energy for all of the evening tasks around camp, but it did feel good to be out of the Jeep.  

With camp set up, we sat down for dinner at our picnic table.  We settled on bagels and cream cheese - it was just too hot to cook.  Two hummingbirds flittered by our campsite, and small lizards darted across the nearby rocks.  A large mule deer wandered into camp as well.  The whole scene was enchanting, and more than a little overwhelming.  

We finished dinner in time for the evening program in the campground amphitheater.  The park ranger gave a presentation on the aquatic lifeforms living in the parks various water environments.  The last drops of sunlight faded out of the canyon, and a cooling breeze began to roll over us.  It was the most magical air I think I have ever felt.  The presentation included a number of slides of the park - and it served as the perfect way to get excited about all of the amazing sights we would be seeing soon.

We walked back to our tent in the dark, exhausted from three days of driving.  It seemed doubtful we would be able to sleep in the still hot desert air, but both of us were asleep in minutes.  The air temperature plummeted during the night, and by morning it was a wonderful 70 degrees.  

We woke up early, planning to head down to the first-come first-served campground at South as soon as possible to make sure we got a site for the rest of the week.  The sun was safely blocked behind the canyon walls to the East, and the whole area had "midsummer night's dream" kind of feel to it.  

We found a beautiful site at South Campground with several trees for shade.  We took our time setting up, and the morning cool burned off quickly.  After finishing setting up camp we loaded up our day packs with as much water as we could carry and headed off for the park shuttle at the visitor center.  It made a quick stop at the backcountry desk for some information about our planned backpack, and then we hopped on a bus headed up canyon.

The scenery became even more dramatic as we rode the bus into the canyon.  We decided to get off the bus at the trail for Weeping Rock.  This was the perfect hike for our first trek in Zion.  The path was less than a mile and climbed steeply but briefly to a large overhang.  Water seeps right out of this rock and drizzles like rain onto the trail.  Looking back to the West from under the overhang provided some jaw-dropping views.  

We at an early lunch while relaxing in the cool air under the overhang, and then made the quick return hike to the trailhead.  We decided to grab the bus to the next trailhead - the Grotto.  The Grotto is the trailhead for the famous Angel's Landing hike, but our plan took us in the opposite direction.  We hiked down canyon towards the Emerald Pools.  The trail climbed gradually up the west side of the canyon.  The views of the Virgin River and the East Rim were spectacular.  The trail was mostly sand and was dotted with cacti, complete with pink and yellow flowers.  As we approached the upper Emerald Pool the trail became more strenuous and required some careful foot placement.  The air was thick and the sun bore down without mercy, but a steady breeze kept us cool enough while struggling upward.  

The Upper Emerald Pool was beautiful.  The water, appropriately enough, was an enchanting shade of green.  The pool was like an oasis in the desert.  Life clung to the edges of the water on all sides:  a variety of grasses and shrubs, and even some pine trees grew overhead.  Looking straight up at the 2,000 foot walls of sandstone reminded me of Michigan's Pictured Rocks, but on a vastly grander scale.  We stopped here for a snack and fended off the brave squirrels intent on stealing our trail mix.    

 
 

 The hike down from the Upper Emerald Pool took us by two other pools, the lower one producing a waterfall onto the trail below.  The water was cold and refreshing and most welcome while hiking on such a hot day.  The trail passed through a narrow slot in the rock at one point, making for a neat photo:

The hike soon joined an easier trail coming up from the Zion Lodge, and we made good time descending on the paved walkway.  After finishing our hike we took the bus back to the campground.  It was oppressively hot in the afternoon, so we climbed down the banks from our campground and splashed around in the cold water of the Virgin River.  

Our first day of hiking in Zion National Park was stunning.  We are planning some harder hikes over the next few days, but today was a great way to get our feet wet.  This place is stunning in every way.  
 
 
 
 

 

---

The Westward Drive

It really is amazing how much can change over the course of a couple days of driving.  Over about 28 hours of driving we saw the low, rolling hills and vineyards of southwest Michigan, the sprawling, suburban jungle of metro-Chicago, the endless fields of Iowa corn, the even-more-endless fields of hay and cattle of Nebraska and Eastern Colorado, the towering, snow-capped Rockies of central Colorado, the red-rocks and canyons of Western Colorado and the arid scrublands of Utah.  

We hurried home from the last day of school on  Friday, ran a few last-minute errands and crammed some last minute additions into the Jeep before hitting the road.  It was 4 PM by the time we were driving.  It felt like we had been working on getting ready for this trip forever.  I couldn't believe it was finally happening!  

Before leaving, I had researched some possible places to stop for meals along the way in order to avoid the dreaded fast food establishments that are so common along the highway.  The first of these was a Giordano's in Joliet, Il, for Chicago style pizza.  The route off of the toll road took us about 15 miles north.  This seemed like a reasonable detour for great pizza.  Sadly, the Google Maps app lead us to an abandoned store front.  It would seem the pizza place in question had closed after the Yelp review I used was written.    A quick iphone search found us a Lou Mahgnati's Pizza nearby.  We plugged the address into our Google Maps app and headed off.  Soon, my phone was leading us through a subdivison.  There were a number of quips about Google playing a joke on us, and also about the possibility of just knocking on someone's door and asking to join them for dinner.  To Google's credit, the neighborhood street eventually emptied into the back parking lot of a strip mall.  Success!  We headed inside, relieved to be done wasting time driving around suburbia and hungry, only to discover the inside was entirely devoid of tables.  This was a "to-go-only" pizza place.  We asked the very nice young lady behind the counter if there was a sit-down pizza joint nearby.  She replied "I'm not supposed to tell people this, because they're our competitor, but there is Giordano's right down the street."  We both cracked up.  In about five minutes we sat down for deep dish pizza and greek salad, with the Pens Bruins game on a nearby TV.  It was worth the wait!   

                   

After finishing our pizza we hopped back on the highway and settled in for a long night of driving.  The plan was to drive through the night to Denver before crashing.  The daylight faded as we entered the corn fields of Iowa.  Around mid-night I took over driving and Mary tried to get some sleep.  I soon had the roads mostly to myself as the mileage clicked west.  I found myself fighting to keep my eyes open with the hum of the highway threatening to lull me to sleep. By the time we reached Des Moines I decided we should grab a cheap hotel and get some sleep.  It wasn't worth saving a few hours and a few bucks in exchange for being miserable for hours.  

I failed to appreciate how late it was and how hard it would be to find a room.  We spent close to an hour driving around Des Moines looking for a room.  Most were booked, a few didn't have anyone working in the office so late and one had a woman sleeping on a couch in a locked office that wouldn't wake up to wait on us.  I was ready to give up, so I returned to the highway and resumed driving west.  Mary played the role of hero, calling around until she found a Super 8 with a room in Stuart, Iowa.  It wasn't much of a town, and the room was too expensive, but we were overjoyed to get off the road at this point.  We crashed into bed and were asleep in seconds.

We got six solid hours of sleep, hit the continental breakfast and were back on the road quickly. 

Our drive across the plains was spent dodging thunderstorms.  We lucked out, as the impressive lines of storms missed us both to the north and the south.  Considering that we never had to deal with the storms head-on, it was kind of neat to watch them roll by.  Huge, anvil shaped clouds pulsed with lightning while tendrils of rain draped delicately towards the fields on the edges of the storm.  Watching the storms roll across the endless, flat terrain, it was easy to realize how tough life on the plains could be.  

We stopped off in Kearny, Nebraska for lunch at a western franchise, The Egg and I.  I opted for a second breakfast for lunch, and the Huevos Rancheros were terrific.  

As we drove into Colorado the fields of hay stretched as far as the eye could see in every direction.  A traffic sign warned of high winds, and cattle ranches dotted the bleak landscape.  Gusts of wind shook the Jeep and threatened to push us into Semis.  Just as we reached the point where we didn't think we could take another minute of rolling hills of hay we saw them:  pale white ghosts slowly rising on the horizon.  We had driven to Glacier National Park a few years ago, but nothing prepared us for the Colorado Rockies.  

By the time we reached Denver, the mountains towered in front of us.  I could see fields of snow on some of the higher ones.  We decided to push on a bit further before getting a room for the night.  As we drove west of Denver the highway climbed high towards a distant mountain pass.  The Rockies towered over us in every direction.  Eventually we crossed the continental divide.  It was pretty cool to think that if I spilled some water it would now flow to the Pacific Ocean.  

Based on the advice of a friend, we had decided to look for a room in Frisco, Colorado.  We would not regret it.  Frisco, it turns out, is a really cool mountain town.  Its streets are lined with bakeries, coffee shops, restaurants, gear stores and inns, and the Rocky Mountains surround the town in every direction.  We found a room at the Frisco Inn, a bed and breakfast right on Main Street.  

 The Inn had an outdoor hot tub with views of the Rocky Mountains.  We grabbed a couple of cold beers out of the cooler and headed for the hot tub.  Soaking in the hot water with the cool evening, mountain air was the perfect end to a long couple of days of driving.  

We headed across the street to Vinny's for dinner.  The inn-keeper had given us a coupon out of the local newspaper good for 2 for one entrees.  We both ordered the vegetarian dish with grilled portabellas, sweet potato, roasted peppers, broccoli and tofu.  It was obviously prepared by someone who knew what he or she was doing in the kitchen.  We enjoyed our dinners with a couple of local brews while watching the Hawks win in overtime.  It was the perfect end to a long day.  

Our room at the inn was very comfortable, and with a couple of windows open letting in the cold nighttime mountain air we slept like never before.  

After an awesome, and much needed nine hours of sleep we headed downstair for breakfast.  The inn had an impressive spread of fruit, yogurt, pecan rolls, orange juice and coffee laid out in an old-fashioned room.  They prepared eggs benedict (but with avocado instead of meat)  to order for us, with hasbrowns.  It was an amazing meal.  One of the best parts of staying in a bed and breakfast is getting to meet and talk to fellow travelers.  Breakfast was served at a large table in the front room.  We met a couple from Gross Point, Michigan and another man driving his motorcycle out west who provided us with some tips for Zion National Park.  Everyone was very impressed with the length of our planned trip, and perhaps a bit jealous.  Our plans re-affirmed, we were ready to hit the road again.  

  
 

 

 

Summer Travel Plans

After months of deliberation, we've finally decided on our 2013 summer plans.  I can't recall a winter in which we spent so many hours working on a trip, only to run into a dead end and have to start over.  Issues such as permit availability, timing of snow melt and the availability of mass transit in certain parks have derailed our plans multiple times.  The plan usually starts out as a grandiose trip idea, and then as I learn about the destinations, I decide that each one needs more time to be fully explored.  The trips get paired down into something more manageable this way.  Now that we are only three weeks away - we have settled on some destinations. 

We will head out of town on June 7th and race the sunset to the west in our Jeep.  We'll make the long drive to Zion National Park in Utah.  After Zion, the trip will take us gradually east, allowing us to explore Bryce Canyon National Park, Canyonlands National Park, Arches National Park, Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park and Rocky Mountain National Park.  We'll do some front-country camping and day hiking in each park, along with some backpack trips in most of the parks.  I'll beginning to learn about hiking and camping in a desert environment and preparing myself for the first scorpion or rattlesnake sighting!

All told, we'll spend six weeks out west, before returning home for a night.  We'll head north to Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore for a week of relaxed camping on the shores of Lake Leeland with family.  Next, we'll head further north, to the cold waters and quiet forests of Lake Superior Provincial Park in Ontario.  The plan is to take a five day paddle trip on Lake Miji, in the park's interior.

On the drive home, we'll meet up with some more family in St. Ignace for a couple of days, including a visit to Mackinaw Island.  We'll be home for a full week while I teach a high school band camp, before heading out again.  Our last destination of the year will be to Vermont for the next 100 miles of the Long Trail.  This section will take us from Sherburne Pass to Smuggler's Notch - arguably the most challenging and most scenic stretch of the nation's oldest thru-hike.

I'll be blogging about all of it, of course. I hope you'll follow along, as we trek from high desert mesas to dark slot canyons, across wildflower-covered meadows beneath snow-capped peaks and along calm, quiet waterways in the paths of loons and otters.  All the way to the summit of Mount Mansfield in Vermont, it should be a grand adventure! 

Maple Hill

We slept in Monday morning, enjoying the quiet of St. Ignace in the off-season.  There is always something alluring and peaceful about being in a tourist town when the tourists are all gone.  The waterfront seemed quieter than usual and the water shimmered in the morning light.  We paid a visit to Java Joe's for some Nutella Crepes and a few leisurely cups of coffee. 

After our late breakfast we headed north on I-75 for the final hike on our trip.  Near the town of Moran there is a dolomite reef set in a maple forest that is called Maple Hill.  I have been meaning to check this strange geological formation out for a while, but by the time we reach St. Ignace we are usually returning from the far north woods and eager for the comforts of civilization.  Monday seemed like the perfect day. 

The drive out of Moran followed a wide, dusty dirt road for about 9 miles.  By the time we reached the trailhead it was hard to imagine anyone had ever been here before us.  The air was a solid twenty degrees warmer inland than it was near the water.  Loading up my daypack on the side of a hot, dusty road in the mid-day heat really made it feel like summer.  A yellow-rumped warbler hopped from branch to branch of a nearby tree while we put on sunscreen and prepared for our hike. 

The trail from the forest road to Maple Hill follows a stretch of the North Country Trail.  The NCT is a nationally-recognized scenic trail, like the Appalachian Trail, Pacific Crest Trail and Continental Divide Trail, among others.  However, the NCT is a more recent idea, and as such it is still under development.  It runs from Lake Champlain in eastern New York, through Pennsylvania, Ohio, Michigan, Wisconsin, Minnesota and North Dakota.  Many stretches of it still require road walking, and only a few hardy souls have undertaken a thru-hike on this trail. 

The word "trail" was really an exaggeration for this section.  The only evidence of a route through the forest were the occasional blue blazes painted onto the maple trees.  The blazes were frequent enough that as long as we were vigilant in looking for the next blaze before proceeding, we weren't really in any danger of getting lost.  The surface of the trail, however, was the forest floor, with no visible path.  Trillium covered the forest in all directions, although not in bloom yet.  In another week this looked to be a fabulous wildflower hike!  The forest was completely deciduous.  Most of the trees had a colorful splash of buds growing, but no leaves yet.  This created an open, airy feeling, and made the sun feel as it if was beating down directly on us. Occasionally, the forest floor would be flooded, making it necessary to pick our way over downed trees and other obstacles to stay dry. 

The trail crossed a few forest roads as it ambled north-east.  We heard the load hammering of a pileated woodpecker several times during our hike.  A little over four miles into our hike the trail climbed gradually, reaching the escarpment of Maple Hill.  This formation was more impressive in person that pictures can convey.  It ran for about a half-mile, climbing 15-20 feet over the trail.  The air up against the rock formation was noticeably cooler.  This dolomite reef is part of the Niagara Escarpment, a formation that runs from Niagara Falls in the East, all the way to the edge of the plains in the West.  This section really was reminiscent of the parts of the Pictured Rocks Lakeshore that move inland, away from the water.  Similar low cliffs set in a deciduous forest predominate that area as well. 

We took a few picture before beginning the return hike.  The dolomite reef was worth the excursion, but the rest of the hike was a bit monotonous.  The scenery seldom changed, and the forest was hot without the shade from leave cover.  We returned to the Jeep a little less than four hours after we had left, not bad for an 8.6 mile hike.  We decided to take a scenic route back to St. Ignace, driving along Brevort Lake and and Lake Michigan along US-2.  The skies were bright blue and the sun hot overhead.  It really felt like summer had arrived. 

After a stop for dinner at the Mackinaw Grille we made the crossing over the bridge.  The sun was still high in the sky to the west, and Lake Michigan shimmered in a golden light, the water calm and inviting.  It is always hard to drive south across the bridge, but at least in the spring we know that we won't have to wait long to return!  For the moment, it was time to head home and finish our summer planning.  The end of the school year is right around the corner, and we have a bunch of plans to finish.