Tag Archives: Autumn

Last Trip to Ionia State Recreation Area

Posted on by under Adventure

With only two weeks left, with two days off work before Jeff retires and us leaving Michigan as residents, what was one place we hadn’t said goodbye to? Ionia State Recreation Area — between Lansing and Grand Rapids, and about an hour north from both Battle Creek where we lived for 16 years and Camp Turkeyville where we presently live in an RV.

I don’t know why this particular park sees such little use. It’s gorgeous, wooded, with lakes and creeks, hills and ravines. Not many people there, at least the times we choose to go. Except, mind that there are hunters, so wear orange. Last Friday, we went. God did not disappoint. Gorgeous autumn. I shall let a few pictures of the park speak for themselves.

Something which always amazes us is to have visited a place so many times, and then discover something new there. I asked Jeff to stop the van so I could get a photo of a creek. He pulled into a tiny gravel parking area. I took the shot I wanted, but between the trees, noticed a lake you can’t see from the road. New place! We hiked down to it.

We assumed the trail went around the lake. Wrong. At least I believe we are wrong. We followed it up the hill, overlooking the small lake. Spectacular.

As the sky darkened and moved toward us, we made a last stop at a vault toilet, and then headed out as it was starting to sprinkle on us. Shortly thereafter, it slushed on our windshield. And then, we drove southward into the sunshine.

It was a fantastic last trip to Ionia State Recreation Area. I know there are woods and lakes in Wisconsin we shall be able to explore. I look forward to experiencing more of God’s great creation.

Scenic North Country Trail…Again. The Blue Bridge

Posted on by under Hiking, Nature, Scenic North Country Trail

 

I know they are giving out awards for people who have hiked 100 miles of the Scenic North Country Trail in 2019. Do we get a thumbs up for hiking 30 miles?

Last Friday, with overcast and wet ground, and in the lower 30’s all morning, we chose a close-to-home hike on the Scenic North Country Trail, starting at Helmer Road and going west along the Kalamazoo River — that wonderful river which flows past the ghost town of Singapore (which I wrote a historical fiction about, The Town That Disappeared), and draining into Lake Michigan.

We’ve hiked this trail before, and ridden it on bikes. Each time is unique.

And did I mention overcast Friday morning? Did I mention in the lower 30s? Did I mention the wind? No? Well, at the beginning of our hike, there was a nippy wind greeting us, from 5-15mph, so said the Weather Channel. Chilly but undeterred, we hiked on.

 

We carefully trod over the lichen-covered blue bridge, a bridge I’d seen from across the river for over a decade before we finally hiked to it. Poor blue bridge. Did I mention covered with lichen? It was. Did I mention the boards are rotting and quite slippery? They are.

 

We saw a tank painted on the walkway. Jeff commented that as a solo tank, it was ungrateful. Two would have make it…tanks (thanks).

 

There were also some amazing mushrooms at the base of a fallen tree. I’m working my mind around my next story which will be concerning mushrooms. But then on Friday, Jeff finished the fourth of my War Unicorn Chronicles books, and asked for more (unicorn tales). Such a dilemma.

 

Oh. And while walking alongside the Kalamazoo River near mowed areas, don’t be looking around at the pretty nature sights. Instead, mind your step, or you may just land in some goose poop. And those rust streaks are old, stained goose left behinds, but old enough not to be squishy.

Funny how about an hour after we got home, the sun burst forth at last. But the temp was still in the lower 40’s. I imagine the sun brought people out into the great outdoors. During our overcast and chilly hike, Jeff and I had the trail to ourselves. Also, with the bonus of no mosquitoes!

 

May your days be mostly sunny, but may you also walk briskly through the overcast, chilly days.