Eponymous Valley

The Jordan Valley is a beautiful stripe of land near Alba that stretches for several miles along one of the northern Lower Peninsula's handful of northward-flowing rivers. The Department of Natural Resources has given these rolling hills and lowlands bisected by a Blue Ribbon trout stream a special designation.

But you don't need a state bureaucracy's say-so to realize the incredible splendor of this place.

A simple glance will suffice.

That's the view from Deadman's Hill, so named because it was the site of a fatal logging accident years ago (such was the life of the logger; newspapers of the era are peppered with grisly accounts of maimings, crushings, killings, frostbite, etc.).

The Jordan Valley Pathway takes you on an 18-mile loop through the heart of the valley. It's a popular weekender backpacking trip, as it's just enough for a good hike-in, hike-out challenge.

My trip was much shorter, as I stopped at one of six parking places and walked a short loop from there and back. It took me down that massive hill, along the river valley and back up.

Enjoy this obligatory sun-through-trees picture.

Part of that 1.9-mile loop includes yet another segment of the North Country National Scenic Trail. As beautiful as the Jordan River Valley may be, I can't help but speculate that it would hardly register in the top 10 sites that a through-hiker would see en route from New York to North Dakota.

But never mind that. My hike took me through the woods as the last of the fall leaves held out. You can see the bare boughs interspersed with trees still going through the change, and with evergreens staying, well, ever green.

It also took me past several springs (seeps? Artesian wells? Whatever, it was groundwater becoming surface water). They made quiet gurgling sounds as each one contributed its little share of cold, clear, well-oxygenated water that makes Jordan River trout so happy.

But I had to go a bit off-trail (I know, tsk) to see the Jordan River itself. This segment of the trail never takes you very close, so I crashed through some dried-up undergrowth to see its cedar-lined banks.

Look at all that woody debris! Perfect for trout to hide,
and for snagging your tackle.

This little loop makes for the perfect afternoon hike, and anglers surely will find plenty of good fishing spots throughout the valley. You can camp at Pinney Bridge State Forest Campground (for a fee, and it's hike-in only) if you're doing the whole trail. Jordan River Valley is the exception, but in most stretches of state land,  you can camp anywhere on state forest land for free if you're a mile or more from a designated campsite.

When you're done, you're not far from Bellaire, so stop in at Short's and have a beer and some dinner.

This is the second of six hikes I took inside of a week, each one at a place new to me. Stay tuned for some winter hikes, and the rest of this little series.

Me, giving a clinic in jackassery.

And one final view, from a different lookout just outside of Alba.

Purple mountain's valley's majesty

A whale of a good hike

If you live in Michigan's northwest Lower Peninsula, you know you're surrounded by good hikes. Some locales seemingly have a trailhead on every block. City, township and county parks combined with hectares of state forest, nature preserves and the Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore (the source of many future blog posts) have hundreds of miles of paths to explore. Then we have our own piece of the North Country Trail, a National Scenic Trail that takes you from New York to North Dakota.

Today's hike is much more modest than a multi-state trek, although I've always wanted to try one. Whaleback Natural Area is just south of Leland and makes for a quick but rewarding afternoon stroll. There's about two miles total of trail, complete with a lookout platform affording you a gorgeous view of North and South Manitou Islands.

South Manitou Island

Getting there is a little odd. The trailhead is down what looks like a private road (after one point it is), then you'll feel like you're trespassing on someone's Back 40 as the path winds between a home to the right and a tree-nestled vineyard to the left. Stick to the trail and you'll reach The Leelanau Conservancy's patch of land atop this glacial mound soon enough.

Take note of the woods around you. Beautiful, right? Especially in the fall when birches and maples don their flavescent foliage. 

Fall hikes never fail to delight

Parts of the trail along the bluff actually reminded me of Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore (you'd better believe I have a post about that place brewing). At the trail's north end you get a bird's-eye view of Leland's beachfront. This would be a great hike on a hot summer day, followed by a dip at one of a half-dozen nearby beaches (there are three in Leland alone). I also heard the drumming of a woodcock while I was hiking there, and I'm told there are thimbleberries to be found in season (for the five hours these transitory morsels are ripe and not either too green or mush, that is).

Here's one more picture for good measure.

The bluffside trail

Starting on the right foot

I've been told by enough of my friends that I ought to keep a blog of all my hiking adventures. One can only hear the same suggestion so many times before finally caving (it doesn't hurt if you're already amenable to the idea).

So I guess I should write about the hikes I do on weekends, or sometimes six days in a row if I should have some time off. I'll be giving some basic information about the place itself, but rather than simply an informational/instructional of each hike I'll also give some impressions and talk about what hiking means to me personally.

So let's get things started right by giving you an idea as to why I hike in the first place.

The least objectionable selfie I took on this hike (debatable)

I hike because it lets you do cool stuff like look at Marquette and Presque Isle and Huron Mountain and Lake Superior and all the rest from hundreds of feet above. It takes you to places you'll never reach, and gives you experiences you'll never live, any other way. All the social media, hours-long nature documentaries, nature porn coffee table books... nothing comes close to the real thing.

It's also a way to self-reflect. Most of my hikes are solo, and it gives me a chance to explore my thoughts in (mostly) silence while I take in my surroundings. I do occasionally wish I could share the moments with a friend, significant other, etc. (I was on a hike with a friend in the photo above, the rare exception) but the woods is the one place where I don't really feel lonely by myself. Gosh... that sounds an awful lot like some naturalist philosopher's nugget of wisdom... halp?

There are plenty of other reasons — more on those in future posts. For now, I'll leave you with this parting shot from my first solo backpacking trip on Grand Island National Rec Area:

You'll probably notice I can never keep the horizon level in my pictures...