Up and Down the Manistee

Hey gang.

A couple years ago, Ryan and I tried getting a bunch of the dads in our social group to accompany us on a backpacking trip in the western part of the state.  We weren't very successful - it's pretty grueling for most guys, so we didn't get any takers - but had ourselves a solid time.  In the years since, we tried three or four times to organize another trek, but the weather was always against us:  there are really only two times a year where the weather is optimal (September and May, where the highs are in the low 60s and the lows in the mid/high 40s - where mosquitoes aren't a concern and its warm enough to not freeze overnight), and the last few times we've been rained out or faced with abnormally cold weather.

Arriving at the campground parking lot, around 11:30am on Saturday.

This time around, our luck held - the weather was perfect, lows in the high 40s and highs in the mid-60s - so we decided to pull the trigger.  Mitch was the only other guy who as interested in going, or was otherwise available, and so Ryan and I decided to hit up the same trail we did last time: the Manistee River Trail.  Due to Mitch's inexperience, we decided to only do the eastern side of the river, which is about 9 miles, and far more scenic than the 12-mile western side of the river.

Adjusting packs.

Ryan and I run regularly now, so this time around was physically much, much easier for both of us, and I packed along a knee brace as well (to avoid the pain I suffered last time.)  As such, we came out of our weekend in the woods in good shape and high spirits.  Definitely looking forward to our next outing.

Behold. . .

We had to leave $5 in order to register my car in the lot overnight.

The team, ready to hit the trail.

Setting off down the trail.  Before we could hit the actual Manistee River Trail, we had to hike a mile and a half from the campground to the access point.  A fairly boring and uneventful stretch, but it loosened up the legs and gave us time to fine-tune our packs (which weighed about 40lbs apiece for Ryan and I, and 25lbs for Mitch.)

The pedestrian foot bridge, at the north end of the trail loop.

Gotta do a selfie at the bridge.

Setting off. . .

The Manistee River.  The eastern side of the river, where we hiked, is much, much more scenic:  the trail runs up and down hills much closer than on the opposite side.

We generally stopped for a couple minutes whenever we hit a scenic overlook.  Gave us time to catch our breath while taking pics.

Saw this weird-ass tree that had a smaller tree wrapping its way up its branches. . .

They have a series of little foot bridges to make your way across, which breaks up the monotony of just walking through the woods.

I brought along a walking stick this time around - makes it a lot easier on your legs.

Some creepy-ass dead tree.

Because we were only doing the eastern leg of this trail loop, we'd be double-backing our way along the trail on the following day in order to get back to the campground parking lot.  So however far we hiked on the first day, we'd have to repeat on the second day.

(You're going to get a ridiculous amount of river pictures in this blog post, folks - be forewarned.)

Ryan, as always, was our map guy on this trip.  He kept track of our progress and was able to pinpoint our exact location so we knew how far we were to various sites along the trail.

Mitch takes a break.

A couple hours into our hike, we came across the site that we stayed at back in 2018.

Consulting the map, once again.

Little streams cut through the hills at intervals throughout the first leg of our hike.

Stopping for a snack.  This was the first time we had unslung our packs, and generally when we did this we'd stop for about 15 minutes.

Admiring the view

Props to the maintenance guys who keep this trail good to go for its frequenters.  Some damn fine chainsaw work, fellas.

A lot of these cliffs were little more than sand, so you had to be careful not to go to close to the edge - the sides were so steep that if you fell down you'd be hard-pressed to find your way back up again.

This log blocking the path was really our only difficult obstacle of the trip.  What this pic doesn't show is that the cliff to the left drops about 30-40 feet, about two feet away from the trail:  if you stumbled while crossing over the log, you'd plummet down quite a ways.  A little nerve-wracking, to say the least.

Soldiering on.

This stream here marks the beginning of an area where there were a lot of available camp sites to be grabbed (by a lot, I mean like six.)

Stopping on this bridge here, about seven miles into our hike - the largest footbridge of the trail (besides the pedestrian bridge, that is.)

Mitch and I discuss the locations of various sites to scope out.  My memory, believe it or not, is pretty sharp, and I remembered much of the trail's points of interest that Ryan had forgotten.  This would come in handy.

After passing by several sites, we decided to push further to get closer to Slagle Creek's access road, which featured a couple sites that stood upon a cliff face.  Ryan and I figured this would be a suitable spot to camp, but when we got there - despite them being unclaimed - the wind was ridiculous.  It would've been pretty unpleasant for camp, and there was a lack of nearby dead wood for building a fire.

Disappointed in our fortune, we decided to cross back over the bridge and check out some of the sites we had originally passed by.  This was about a two-mile loop.

In the hour or so we had spent reconnoitering the cliff sites, the one site we had been wanting had been snagged by some random asshole.  Ryan and I sat on a hill overlooking the site for awhile, to see if the guy was just taking a break (he hadn't broken out any camp gear, he was just resting on a log and eating a snack.)  While we waited, we sent Mitch back about 300 yards up the trail to grab a second site that we had passed that was also decent.  Sick of waiting around, Ryan eventually went down and straight-up asked the guy if he was claiming the site, and the guy was all wishy-washy about it, so we said 'screw it' and just joined up with Mitch.

Having secured our site for the night, we set about the hour-long process of gathering enough fire wood to last the night.

This tree's natural wedge was perfect for breaking off larger logs into more manageable chunks.

If you'll look closely, this is the exact same spot where Ryan, Kyle and I stopped for lunch on our second day of hiking back in 2018.

We didn't have a hatchet with us, but with two saws and my machete we were able to trim enough wood to keep a solid fire going for hours and hours.

Yours Truly went with a hammock setup, once again.

Mitch borrowed a tent from a friend of his, who also lent him a pack and several other pieces of gear to use on this excursion.

We had a slight chance of rain on Sunday - not much, maybe a drizzle - but enough to force me to create a shelter with my tarp.

Ryan sets up his tent.

My sleeping setup.  A 40-degree bag, a bivey blanket, and an inflatable pillow.

Enjoying a whiskey-and-Coke Zero out of the enamel camping mug my kids got me for Christmas a few years back.

Finished with setting up camp, we had ourselves a congratulatory drink and planned our next move.

Gathering water to refill our pack bladders.  We had to cut through another site in order to access this point of the river, but the couple staying there were hippies and they didn't seem to mind.

It was still only like 5pm, so we weren't quite ready to settle down just yet - Ryan and I still had plenty of energy left - so we left behind most of our gear, lit up some cigars, and decided to hike up the trail for a couple more miles.  Ryan brought along his sidearm, not wanting to leave it behind at the site.  The gun, along with our cigars and one of my playlists blasting from his clip-on bluetooth speaker, definitely got a few surprised looks while we passed people along the trail.

Taking a breather by the river, on the far end of the access road, past all the cliff-top camp sites (which, despite the wind, were all claimed by this point in time.)

Mitch lowers himself down a bank to check out the water.

A couple hours later, crossing the bridge yet again on our way back to camp.

Back at headquarters.

Yours Truly gets the evening fire going. . .

Mitch gets food ready.

Mitch had hauled a collapsible mini-cooler along with him to house his drink stuff along with three elk steaks for us - he was dying to try cooking steaks over an open flame (he's a mad scientist when it comes to grilling.)

These cooked for about 15 minutes total, thereabouts.

He brought along seasoning and everything, we were very well cared-for.

These steaks turned out incredible - so much better than the just-add-water meals we had packed along for dinner (and that we didn't even get around to eating.)

Chow time.

Later on in the evening, digesting elk, having a few drinks, and enjoying the fire. . .

Mitch thought it'd be a good idea to bring along some Fireball.  That stuff is disgusting, but we drank it anyway.  Why not.

The close of the evening.

Day II

The next day, around 7am, we started to get around.  We had been lucky to not get any rain whatsoever overnight, but it looked like we'd be getting a little before we made it back to the car.

Boiling some water for coffee and our just-add-water breakfasts.

Mitch and I, enjoying some morning coffee.

I bought this lightweight, collapsible down jacket for the cooler morning - it packed down to next to nothing, and was ridiculously warm considering how thin it was.

These little burners are pretty awesome.  Glad Ryan has one.

Starting to break camp and prepare for the 7-mile trek back to the car.

Having cleared our camp, we filled our water bladders one more time from the hippies' camp site and hit the trail.

Just as we had the day before, we stopped occasionally to admire the view and snap some pics before continuing on.

Another perilous cliff.

Morale still high.

Stopping for a mid-morning snack, about halfway through the return trip.

More streams and waterfalls. . .

Thanks for the heads up, trail.

Back at the pedestrian bridge.  We made insane time on the return hike - seven miles in about two-and-a-half hours.  We barely stopped, and were pushed forward due to sporadic sprinklings of rain and the prospect of cheeseburgers and beer at Ruckle's, in Clare, for lunch.

Turning off the Manistee River Trail, finally, and heading back down the last stretch to the campground parking lot.

The end of the trail.

Mission accomplished.

We had stopped at Ruckle's in 2018 as well, seeing how we drive past Clare on our way back to Midland anyway, and after two days of physical exhaustion and adventuring, cold beer and warm, greasy food is a God-send.

Another adventure in the books. . .

- Brian