HMS Beangle

When we heard that some of our favorite people were going to be camping near Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore, we decided to head to Munising, MI. We didn’t know what to expect with the governmental shutdown, but even if we couldn’t get into the park, we knew we wanted to see Rob and Kate.

If you haven’t heard of Pictured Rocks yet, the region is all about water. Without a doubt, the best way to see the cliffs’ varied colors and dramatic rock formations is from a boat, but seasickness plus high waves kept Jeff and me on land. Visitors come to see waterfalls and the 12 miles of mineral-stained, erosion-carved sandstone for which the National Lakeshore is famous. Pictured Rocks was designated the very first National Lakeshore for a reason.

Because high waves caused their boat tour reservation to get pushed back two days, we headed out first to see some waterfalls. Rob and Kate are responsible dog owners, so they checked to see which ones allowed pets and which didn’t. The Visitors Center was closed, so we just headed to our first stop. I wonder how much revenue the nation has lost by not having Park staff on site to collect entrance fees or sell annual passes.

Miners Falls is an easy, half mile walk from the parking lot, with two viewing areas. Only one requires a flight of stairs. Despite fences around the viewing areas, we saw a young couple climb over the railings to get closer to the falls. A quick instagram search shows me that the internet is full of people doing that during the governmental shutdown. It makes me sad and angry to see things like that going on, as the barriers are there to protect both visitors and the waterfall area, but I’m not surprised. Selfish and destructive people come out of the woodwork at times like this.

Anyway.

Did you notice the little circles at the base of the falls? They were created by water, rock, and a geological spin cycle. Called kolk basins, they’re formed when very fast water gets into a depression and spins a small object inside of it, eroding the slight depression into a deep, circular pit.

Yeah, I admit it. I’m feeling pretty good about the 20+ episodes of How the Earth was Made we watched last summer. Look at me tossing out geological tidbits on a whim.

This walk made me extra happy, because not only did I see kolk basins at the base of the waterfall, but I also noticed this big rock full of glacial scrapings on our walk back to the truck. What’s that, you want an explanation? Don’t mind if it do. As mega-ton glaciers advanced and retreated from the poles across the earth, rocks and boulders trapped beneath the ice sheets carved grooves into the landscape behind them. Geology, man. It’s pretty cool to see physical evidence of the changes the earth has undergone across eons.

I want to start by saying that my photos can’t and don’t do the cliff’s colors justice, but again, turn that brightness up all the way and turn nightshift off to get the best shot at it.

If the sun had been shining and we’d been on a boat, the brown, orange, yellow, red, green, and black bands of color would have really stood out. But trust me, no one wants a seasick Jeff on their boat. (I recommend you go to the Pictured Rocks NL website to see what the pros have captured.) From up above on the observation decks, you get a good look at the stunning water variations though. Every shade of blue and green seemed present out there.

When we were here 20 years ago (‘Back in my day…’), the Castle formation had both its tall turrets, but erosion is a sandstone fact of life, and a rockfall back in 2006 took one of the tall turrets with it in a race to Lake Superior. The formation must be fairly unstable because there are signs ev.er.y.where stating, point blank, that you are “highly unlikely to survive a fall” from this cliff. You just know people are still doing it though. Stupid is gonna stupid.

I would like to note that it made my eye twitch not placing an apostrophe between the r and the s when typing Miners Castle and Miners Falls, but I didn’t do the naming.

Moving on.

The following morning, we all headed over to Wagner Falls and I broke out my iPhone’s long exposure setting to get this waterfall effect. All the pretty, none of the skill.

After that, Rob and Kate took the dogs for a drive and Jeff and I checked out the town of Munising. He and I started at the Pictured Rocks Interpretive Center and then walked around the neighborhood.

We found this sweet Art in the Alley corridor, each finding a local artist whose paintings spoke to us. I only wish I’d written their names down. Rookie move, I know. Still, I think it’s pretty encouraging to see even a small community like Munising devoting part of their commercial district to promoting and highlighting local artists.

Overall, it was a very nice day of hanging out together and doing our own things. Later, we all headed to Muldoon’s to dine on the only thing you simply MUST have while visiting the northern half of the Upper Peninsula — a Cornish pasty. That’s past-ee, by the way, not paste-ee. Let’s keep things clean here.

What’s the story behind this tasty link between the U.P. and Cornwall, England? Well, copper and iron mining were once major industries in the U.P., and some of the world’s best miners came from Cornwall. When they emigrated to work the mines, they brought their tradition of handheld mining meals with them. Since they worked long hours completely below ground, the miners could pull a hearty warm meal out of their lunch tins without hassle. (For the record, Kate makes a really delicious pasty herself.)

The following morning, Jeff and I headed to a no dogs allowed waterfall trail while Rob and Kate prepared for their rescheduled Pictured Rocks boat tour.

The Mosquito-Chapel parking lot was pretty full of vehicles when we arrived, but we hardly saw anyone going on the Mosquito Beach and Falls loop. Nearly everyone turned towards the taller Chapel Falls instead. We didn’t mind.

Dine or Die had an impressive new contestant last week. Without looking it up first, what’s your vote on this firm, brown shelf mushroom? I think the darker central ring should get bonus points for ominous flair.

We were very grateful that the Mosquito Beach and Falls trail didn’t live up to its name this visit, but I wouldn’t count on it in the height of summer. My guess is that some recent hard frosts and cool temps had killed off this year’s batch. Good riddance to them.

We noticed some backwoods camping sites, heard the crash of waves, and then suddenly Mosquito Beach peeked through the trees in all of its white sand and turquoise water glory. Later, we heard that—according to the boat tour guide—backcountry campers are known to enjoy some baignade nue time on that beach, much to the surprise of boat tour guests.

We followed the return path toward Mosquito Falls and were reminded that water always runs downhill. It wasn’t a steep climb back up, but it certainly wasn’t as quick a hike as down from the parking lot either.

It’s just a small waterfall, but it gave me such joy — and not just because it was our hiking snack spot. We roamed around it from all angles, with me taking more photos than was reasonable because that’s what I do. We stayed on the trail as instructed, of course, because it’s the right thing to do to protect our public lands. I may still be chasing those gold stars from 3rd grade, too. Only a trained professional could say for sure.

One of the things I most regret about not seeing Pictured Rocks from the water is missing the chance to see Chapel Rock’s famous tree. Rob was kind enough to share two photos of it and I found 99.1 WFMK’s fantastic write up of it online.

“If there were a Mount Rushmore for trees in Michigan, the scrappy little pine in Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore on Chapel Rock would be dead center holding a pasty. If Paul Bunyon had a bonsai, it would be this tree.”

The article goes on to note that this lone White Pine is older than the US itself, having begun to grow when the region was still part of the British territory of Quebec. Not bad for a tree whose entire nutrient system now lives on another rock which spans the open air and defies the elements to deliver the goods. Long may you defy all logic, you magestic Pinus strobus.

And suddenly it was time to say goodbye to our friends and head out, but not before we mooched a little more coffee from their RV’s plush setup.

After breakfast, we headed out to the scene of one of our favorite memories, the Lower Falls at Taquamenam State Park. We went there with The Boy when he was just 8 or 9 years old and took a photo of him jumping from some low rocks. That photo has sat on our kitchen counter ever since. We wanted to find that happy spot for Ian again.

We had hoped to stay in one of the nearby state or federal campgrounds, but they were all fully booked for the weekend. Such is the eastern UP during leaf peeping season. We arrived and walked around the entire island, hunting out the photograph’s spot.

There were crazy amounts of people on the island for a Thursday, but we lucked out and had a few moments to ourselves at the serene spot you see above. There was even a rainbow light flare that cruised across every photo.

And then we found it. The spot. The small stack of eroded rocks. A small section of the waterfall to the right. The very shallow pool below. The spot. We sat a while. We took a few photos. We shed a few tears and smiled and remembered.

Back on the road, we realized the time and decided to stop for a quick snack. Pulling into a fast food place, we were shocked to see a couch on a flat bed trailer. To be more specific, we saw what looked like Ian’s couch, right down to its missing its feet and looking a bit faded and worse for wear. Several staff members went out to see it while we were there, as its owner was trying to find a new home for it. We got a hearty laugh out of the whole situation.