The 95,000-acre Seney National Wildlife Refuge, in the heart of the eastern UP, is home to more than 250 species of wildlife, from trumpeter swans and bald eagles to river otters and black bears. From the visitors center, take a 1.4-mile stroll on the Pine Ridge Nature Trail to view songbirds and beavers. If you’d rather stay in the car, there’s the Marshland Wildlife Drive, a seven-mile route through wetlands, meadows and forests. More adventurous visitors can hike or bike miles of trails.

Canoeing along the Manistique River, hunting, fishing, and mushroom and berry picking are other highlights of a visit. During the winter, bring your cross country skis and snowshoes or go ice fishing.

For a complete list of Michigan nature preserves and parks, click here.

From the expansive flats of Lake St. Clair in the southeastern section of the state to the interconnected lakes of the Cisco Chain in the Upper Peninsula’s western end, muskies rule the water. In the words of Don Miller of Motor City Muskies, "There’s the muskie, then there’s everything else." Whether you like to live bait these water wolves, toss huge baits of plastic, metal or wood, or troll at seemingly ridiculous fast speeds, if you’re after the supreme predator Michigan waters are where you want to fish.

During the summer the best times to fish for muskies are early and late in the day, or after dark. If a good storm is brewing, particularly one bringing in cooler weather, so much the better.

During the fall there is a switch or sorts.

Early and late in the day are still good bets but don’t discount the midday periods when frost is on the pumpkin. Remember that these fish are in a heavy feeding cycle and aren’t at all afraid of the light. If there is a bit of masochist in you, the fall night bite can be down right spectacular.

Trolling is the preferred method for Miller on St. Clair. Swim Whizz and Believer baits, huge wooden and plastic stick-baits are the dominant lures used by anglers here. Perch patterns are the favored finish. Troll at 5- to 6-mph, (yes, that fast), and work the 4- to 12-foot depths. Be sure one lure is placed back only 20 feet or so and is running right in the prop wash.

On the inland lakes and rivers, casting takes over with a variety of glide baits, spinner and hard baits. Magnum Shad Raps, Muskie Killers and the like will all work. In off-colored water the mantra of color, though debatable, seems to be "if it’s not hot, it’s not." In other words, work finishes like fire tiger and chartreuse. In clear water natural finishes like sucker, whitefish and perch stand out.

Muskie pro Lance Christensen has two rules when casting. "First, always watch behind the bait, don’t watch the bait. That’s where you’ll see the fish or the swirl. Second, always finish smoothly, no stopping, with a large figure eight or a very exaggerated L-shaped finish. Nearly 75 percent of my fish strike while ending the retrieve with these."

Muskies are tough, toothy fish. Setting up a proper rod, reel and line combination is absolutely critical to you successfully bringing in a fish. Rods should be heavy action sticks with very a lot of spine. When you reef back to set the hook you don’t want the rod to give the fish any mercy.

The same goes with the line. Mono is a definite no-no. Old timers still swear by braided Dacron, but you can do much better. The "super lines," such as my personal favorite, Power Pro, don’t have any stretch and when you set the hook you really cross their eyes. These newer super lines are also much thinner than the old standard Dacron, and they cast like a dream. You do need to be careful as these thinner super lines will cut you if you try to release a snagged lure by hand. At the end of the line you’ll want a good quality barrel-swiveled leader at least 12 inches long to prevent the fish from biting through the line.

Your reel should have a good quality drag, something reliably smooth and steady. Bait casting reels are preferred over spinning reels. In most every case your reel need not be spooled with any more than 150 yards or so of line.

So, where is the absolute best place to catch these freshwater wolves? Without any doubt Lake St. Clair gives up more muskies each year than any two bodies of water put together. The habitat and abundance of prey is second to none. Couple that with a good number of very skilled charter captains pursuing nothing but muskies and you have an ideal situation for catching these fish. Take Captain Mike Pittiglio of Muskie Mania Sportfishing for instance. Over the past five years he’s boated just shy of 3,000 from Lake St. Clair. On one 8-hour trip the net brought in 28 of these!

Hot Spots

Southern Lower Peninsula

Lake St. Clair, Wayne, Macomb and St. Clair Counties
Muskie Mania Sportfishing Charters
Miller’s Sportfishing Charters

Thornapple Lake, Barry County
Barry County – County Parks and Recreation

Bankson Lake, Van Buren County
South Haven Visitors Bureau

Northern Lower

Lake Skegemog/Elk Lake, Kalkaska and Antrim Counties
Elk Rapids Area Chamber of Commerce

Manistee Lake, Manistee County
Manistee County Convention and Visitors Bureau

Ross Lake, Gladwin County
Gladwin County Chamber of Commerce

Upper Peninsula

Lac Vieux Desert, Gogebic County
MichiganLakes.com – Gogebic County

Craig Lake, Baraga County
Craig Lake State Park

Lake Michigamme, Marquette County
Marquette Country Convention & Visitors Bureau
Michigamme Shores Campground
Van Riper State Park

Additional Information:
Department of Natural Resources: Large Lakes Program
Michigan Recreational Boating Information System: Find an Access Site

Travel Michigan has received permission to reproduce this article.

Oftentimes it seems we adults get wrapped around the axle when it comes to fishing. We "need" the newest graph, the best rods and reels, the wonder baits, the biggest fish and, of course, to accomplish all this, a boat. I received a lesson from my kids a while back. And it’s a lesson that can be re-taught to each of us within a 30 minute drive from anywhere in Michigan. All you need is a lake, river or pond.

The boat wouldn’t start when we got to the bay. Karen didn’t seem to mind. "That’s OK dad, we don’t need the boat. We’ll just fish off the dock. The dock will be fine."

Eric agreed. "Yeah dad, we’ll catch fish off the dock."

Fishing off this dock in years past has been worthwhile. Karen and the neighbor’s little girl caught a mess of nice yellow perch last summer in late August. Earlier in the summer she caught bullheads, white perch and more than one sheephead gave her quite a struggle.

On the way to the cottage we bought bait, candy, hooks, candy, bobbers, candy, sinkers and no, not more candy, but those Cheetos fried to a crackly-crunch. Oh yeah, and some soda pop. (Mom, the Supreme Ruler of the Free World, was out of sight.)

We arrived at the cottage late in the day, full of promise. Karen ran down to the water.

When she returned her expectant expression was softened to resignation if not dejection. "Dad, come look at the water. It’s green."

It was certainly green. That pea soup algae didn’t look inviting.

OK, dad, I thought, gotta come up with something quick or it will be an awful long week. "Karen, remember when I’ve told you that bright light sometimes makes the fishing real bad and cloudy days and early mornings are often better than at noon because it is not so bright? Well, kiddo, this pea soup will help keep the water dark so we might even have better fishing."

"Really?"

"Sure, kiddo. You bet." (I hoped.)

It was my job to mind the rods while the kids went for candy or pop or Cheetos or all three. It was also my job to keep Eric from performing crude, rock-tossed autopsies on a few dead carp that he found along the beach.

We even caught fish. Sheephead were numerous, as were perch. Eric did come up with the best catches. One evening he brought in a channel catfish. One morning he found himself attached to his ScobbyDoo rod while a 4½-pound smallmouth found itself attached to it, too.

On the drive back home to the Soo I told Karen that she was right, that we did catch fish off the dock.

"I like the dock. You never know what is out there. It’s simple, dad," she said. "You don’t have to worry about rocking the boat or anything. It’s simply fishing."

Right again kiddo.

Pan fishing, fishing off the dock, or off the bank, or even from a boat is simple. You need a rod and reel. Nothing fancy mind you, a simple outfit will do. Six pound line is just fine, four would be even better. Hooks in the No. 8 or 10 sizes. A few split shot and a bobber. For bait a dozen worms or crawlers, maybe some wax worms. That’s all.

Well, not quite. When fishing with kids it is absolutely vital that you fish somewhere where the kids are going to catch fish. I know that sounds like a no-brainer, but it isn’t. This fishing excursion isn’t about you catching fish; it’s about the kids catching fish. Size doesn’t really matter. They just want something tugging on their line and feel the fish while they reel it in.

The best banks or docks will be those that allow you, or them, to cast the line into four feet of water or more. Set the bobber three feet above the bait so the bait goes to a foot or two off the bottom. There is no need to be in water more than six feet deep. There will be fish there if there are any weeds at all.

If you do have access to a boat, look for water in the eight to ten foot range. The edge of a weed bed is a great place to anchor. Bobbers here are optional. Simply have the kids let the weight go down to the bottom and then reel in a foot or two of line.

Bluegills, pumpkin seeds, crappies, perch, bullhead and a host of other species are just waiting for your kids to send them down some food.

One more thing, bring a bit of patience and snacks.

Hot Spots
(These areas may not have the biggest fish in the water, but they will produce panfish for you and the kids.)

Southern Lower

Big Portage Lake, Jackson County
Click here for Jackson County fishing info

Kent Lake, Oakland County
Click here for Kensington Metropark info

Mona Lake/Muskegon Lake, Muskegon County
Click here for Muskegon State Park info

Northern Lower

Spider Lake, Grand Traverse County

Cooke Dam Pond, Iosco County

Lake Cadillac/Lake Mitchell, Wexford County
Click here for Lake Cadillac/Lake Mitchell fishing info

Upper Peninsula

Fortune Chain of Lakes, Iron County
Click here for Iron County fishing info

South Lake/Big Manistique Lake, Mackinac County
Click here for Manistique Lakes area fishing info

Prickett Dam Backwater, Baraga County

Travel Michigan has received permission to reproduce this article.

I ran into a guy at the gas station that a good old boy and saw that I didn't know anything about the place and was freezing. He loaned me his coat and explained to me that the diesel fuel up there was treated for cold weather and not to worry about it, and then he showed me where to go for my initial nights reservation in town and where the hosp. was located. I showed up for work the next morning bright and early. I met a large number of people that first morning that were more than nice to me and took me out to eat at a place that would become one of my regulars called Spikes Keg of Nails on the Au Sable River.

After eating, they took me to a sporting goods store out past the old Bear Plant and showed me what to buy to stay warm and what I needed to keep in my truck for an emergency. Then they showed me where my apartment was located in the North Country Lodge owned by Jim and Judy Craft, who were expecting me through my company.

Long story short, my first weekend I was off with nothing to do and the old boy from the gas station showed up along with some others that I worked with at the hosp. and brought me a black and tan hunting dog, which I still have. We all went to the Grayling Cafe' for breakfast and then went ice fishing on Houghton Lake. So we all hit it off great and started hunting and fishing together and I sent home for some of my guns, rods and tackle to be shipped to me. In the end, I stayed for four years in the area and spent another one year pulling assignments in the UP. I worked, fished and hunted all over that state.

People from down home warned me that northern people would not like me, but the only hatred that I ever encountered was out in New Mexico in the west. All of the people in MI took me in like I was family and I love that place. Yeah, they made a little fun of me because I'm from the country in the deep south, but they are just like me with a different accent and way of talking.

I love MI so much that I brought my children and parents up there several times to visit fish, hunt, etc. Not to mention just to eat at Big Buck Brewery in Gaylord, it's awesome!!!!!

I am getting married in May and my wife and I are planning our honeymoon for guess where? We're coming up to fish for two weeks and visit with all of my old friends. They are the best friends in the world and we have have always stayed in contact. Going from the low landers to the upers, the people of MI are the best that I've ever seen in my life and the state how so much to offer that one could not take it all in within twenty years.

My current goal is to one day have a home in MI, even if it's just a vacation spot around Higgins Lake. My next dream will come true in short time if it's warm enough in July. My wife and I are going to take the plunge off of the bridge behind Spikes in Grayling into the waters of the Au Sable River at the deep hole. Hold onto to the moment, cherish and preserve it and the great state of MI for future generations, it's wonderful.

A lovely, languid drive along Old Mission Peninsula; the hilly green finger of land that divides the east and west sides of Grand Traverse Bay;is the perfect way to spend a sunny afternoon. From the base of the peninsula, follow Garfield Road north out of Traverse City, then head left on M-37, also known as Center Road.  Brake for the tasting rooms of the half-dozen Old Mission wineries to pick up a bottle of vino for dinner, then swing by Fox Valley Gardens Farm Market (231-883-8337) for in-season fruits and veggies as well as honey, fresh cut flowers and maps of the peninsula.  Cut across Wilson Road and cruise the coast, turning right on Nelson Road for a captivating detour: latticework branches intertwine overhead, shading a sun-speckled lane that skirts one of the peninsula’s many orchards. This hidden two-track will bring you back to M-37, and a left leads you to Peninsula Market (14111 Center Rd., 231-223-9500) for picnic provisions like sandwiches and cold almond cherry chicken salad.

Follow the signs to the eclectic Old Mission General Store (18250 Old Mission Rd., 231-223-4310), where shafts of sunlight illuminate a happy clutter of penny candy, coon caps, antiques, toys and more. Ask owner Jim Richards about the history of this store: the first outpost between Detroit and the Straits of Mackinac. Nab a few more goodies for your picnic, then head north to Lighthouse Park  at the very tip of the peninsula. Here’s the spot for a sweet sunset picnic: beach access, a lovely lighthouse and curling sand paths calling you to the water. Make your way to the old metal swing set nestled in the sand, take a seat and let the swing’s soft creaking fold into the sound of the evening waves.

MyNorth.com, the vacation site of the North, is refreshed daily by the staff of Traverse, Northern Michigan's Magazine. Deborah Wyatt Fellows is editor-in-chief.

By Jeff Smith with permission of MyNorth.com.

When 16 men gathered in the Au Sable River cottage of George Griffith in 1959 to form Trout Unlimited, now an internationally respected river conservation group, they chose a location worthy of the event. The Au Sable River  is an American treasure, with unmatched stable water-flow and steady, cool temperatures that make it some of the premier trout water in the nation.

Get a dose of that legendary H2O by stepping into the current, fly rod in hand, in the same stretch where Trout Unlimited began, a run called the Holy Waters. Start your fishing day with a from-scratch breakfast at Gates Au Sable Lodge  (at Stephan Bridge, 989-348-8462). After breakfast, take some time to read the old fisherman's logbook then duck into the on-site fly shop.

The Holy Waters runs about eight miles from Burton's Landing, just east of Grayling,  to Wakeley Bridge.  Longtime fishing guide Bob Andrus suggests the three access points that follow:

Keystone: Broad water here makes it easy to keep flies out of the brush and not spook fish. Wade easily downstream on the solid bottom a half-mile or more then walk back on the public land along the south shore. Take M-72 to Keystone, north to the river.

Guide's Rest: Owned by Trout Unlimited, this stretch of publicly accessible shore runs a mile on both sides of the river. Start at the north parking area and work the river down to the south parking area. Walk back on the road that connects the two. Andrus suggests a compass because the trail in gets a little confusing as it commingles with deer trails. North Down River Road to a half-mile west of Stephan Bridge.

Knight Tract: Make a few attempts at the giant but wily trout said to populate Gould's Hole here, but then move on to wade the four-hour trip down to Wakeley Bridge; walk back on the road. M-72 to Wakeley Bridge Road, north over the river. Look for the subtle sign to the west.

MyNorth.com, the vacation site of the North, is refreshed daily by the staff of Traverse, Northern Michigan's Magazine. Deborah Wyatt Fellows is editor-in-chief.

Photo Credit:

MyNorth Media/Todd Zawistowski

Start your island day on the mainland, at Cheboygan's State Street Coffee Company (211 W. State St., 231-597-9575) for a cappuccino and croissant. Buy a bag of roasted cashews for the ferry trip to Bois Blanc Island, a quiet Lake Huron hideaway only eight miles away. The Plaunt family has run their Plaunt Transportation passenger ferries out of Cheboygan for more than 75 years (412 Water St., 888-PLAUNTS). Take your car across if you wish—reservations required—or book passage for your bike. There are no rentals in Cheboygan or on the island.

On the 40-minute trip over, set your sights on the freighters plying the Straits, and a glorious view of the Mackinac Bridge.

Debark and set out: The winding dirt shore road that circles the secluded 12-by-6-mile island is a flat and easy bet for biking. The speed limit on the island is 25 miles per hour everywhere—a blessing for bikers—but still watch for cars wending around the bends.

Three miles east of the ferry docks, find Bob-Lo Tavern (231-634-7100) for chef-owner Barb Schlund's spicy dill pickle spears and a Bob-Lo Burger, topped with shredded slow-cooked ham. Before an island treat of fried ice cream anointed in Kahlua, sneak in a round of shuffleboard on the vintage board in the bar.

Another mile east, take a dip at the beach between Rosie Point and Snake Island. Locals named it Snow Beach, as it's one of the only sandy;not rocky shores on the island. Dry out in the sun before circling back the way you came past the island woods filled with chicory, ferns, Queen Anne's lace and black-eyed Susans. End up at Hawk's Landing (231-634-7375), a restaurant, gas station and general store within sight of the ferry docks. Pick up some Bois Blanc paraphernalia and a treat (owner Missy fixes fine apple pies, strawberry shortcake and banana splits to meet the whims of the islanders), then head to your ferry home. Most days the last ferry from the island leaves at 5 p.m. and the Plaunt family runs a tight ship.

MyNorth.com, the vacation site of the North, is refreshed daily by the staff of Traverse, Northern Michigan's Magazine. Deborah Wyatt Fellows is editor-in-chief.

By Elizabeth Edwards with permission from MyNorth.com.

Whether you come by air or sea, Beaver Island's 60 square miles of beautiful terra firma beg exploring. The quiet back roads that wend out of Beaver's only hub, the village of St. James, lend themselves to mountain biking (fat tires are a must for the island's miles of clay-gravel roads). Bring your own bike, or stop by Lakesports' Paradise Bay Gifts and rent one (231-448-2166). Once your wheels are turning, set your sights on the picturesque 46-foot Beaver Head Light on the island's south end. There, you'll climb the circular wrought-iron staircase for a big blue lake vista. You might turn around before you make it the full 18 miles (remember, you'll need to ride back to St. James to catch your ride to the mainland). That's okay, the spectacular tapestry of forest, rocky shoreline and dune beaches you pass along the way are a destination unto themselves.

Stoke up for your ride at Dalwhinnie Bakery and Deli (231-448-2736), where everything from the bread to the bear claws are homemade. Pack along a ham and cheddar on cheese bread for a beach picnic. As you head south on King's Highway, take a moment to stop into the Old Mormon Print Shop Museum  (231-448-2254) to learn about this island's rich history—and why the road is called King's Highway. (Hint: Beaver Island once had a king.) Pick up Elizabeth Whitney Williams's book Child of the Sea. The author grew up at the Beaver Head Lighthouse in the 19th century. Now get pedaling. You'll want time to lounge on the beach by the lighthouse and let Williams's book make this beautiful spot come alive.

Getting to Beaver Island: The 32-mile flight over Lake Michigan from Charlevoix is less than a half hour (Island Airways, 800-524-6895; Fresh Air Aviation, 888-359-7448). The ferry the Emerald Isle takes two hours (888-446-4095), but the payoff for the extra time is freshwater spray on your face. For island lodging info contact the Beaver Island Chamber of Commerce  (231-448-2505).

MyNorth.com, the vacation site of the North, is refreshed daily by the staff of Traverse, Northern Michigan's Magazine. Deborah Wyatt Fellows is editor-in-chief.

There's much to be said for the traditional shoreline ride around Mackinac Island  (877-847-0086). Lake Shore Boulevard, the eight-mile main loop, is, after all, Michigan’s only state highway that’s absolutely automobile free. But bikers can also steal away into the forest for quiet trails. Just be prepared for some heart-pumping hills.

For a woodsy escape, ride up the center of the island, past Fort Mackinac, to Garrison Road. Be ready to pop the kickstand and ramble around historic sites; along the way, you'll come across old stone-walled Protestant and Catholic cemeteries, Skull Cave and the battlefield-turned-golf course, Wawashkamo. Garrison Road dead-ends at Lake Shore Boulevard, where you’re treated to a panorama of the spectacular five-mile Mackinac Bridge  that links Michigan' Lower and Upper Peninsulas.

Pedal along toward the island' southwest lobe to spot some of Mackinac Island's most famous features. Arch Rock, a stand of fragile brecciated limestone, is instantly recognizable and a popular photo-op. Several winding bike trails and carriage roads, most of them paved, lead back to another famous limestone tower: the pockmarked and craggy Sugar Loaf, a ritual burial site of the island's early Native American inhabitants, juts up 75 feet into the air at a horseshoe in the pathway.

QUICK BITE: Try Mary' Bistro  for relaxed dining at the west end of Mackinac Island's historic downtown. Think chicken potpies, and sirloin with horseradish sauce and grilled bananas. Grab a seat on the back patio to watch the rooster-tailed ferries zip in and out of the harbor. 906-847-9911.

YOU SHOULD KNOW: Established as a national park in 1875 (second only to Yellowstone), Mackinac Island State Park  became Michigan's first state park in 1895. Eighty percent of the island is still parkland.

MyNorth.com, the vacation site of the North, is refreshed daily by the staff of Traverse, Northern Michigan's Magazine. Deborah Wyatt Fellows is editor-in-chief.

Hiking in late afternoon from the Gillette Sand Dune Visitor Center toward Lake Michigan, we quickly emerged from the forest to open dunes. It may have been February, but the winds off the Great Lake had swept the snow off the rolling hills of sand, which, in the low angle of the winter's sun, took on a golden brown hue.

We trudged across the sand and then stopped on the beach, stunned at the sight: Lake Michigan was open water, but the shoreline had been transformed into a thick shelf of ice and frozen formations that on this clear, cold day glittered like a jeweler’s display case of diamonds.

This is the season for ice hikes. For the next four to six weeks adventurous families and others can head to the nearest Great Lake to take in some of nature’s greatest sculpture: shoreline ice.

Call it winter beachcombing. Those long stretches of sandy shores that you love to stroll during the summer are just as interesting in February and March, after the prevailing winds have piled up ice bergs into craggy but impressive shapes and figures.

Arrive on a calm day like ours, and each jagged edge of the ice becomes a prism reflecting the sun into sparkles of light and bands of color. Better yet, try to arrive on a windy day when the surf is rushing toward you. The waves disappear under the icy shelf, and then suddenly erupt through cracks and holes like mid-winter volcanoes.

Any Great Lake shore can provide this spectacle to some degree. The most impressive ice is found in the western Upper Peninsula along Lake Superior in Porcupine Mountains Wilderness State Park, where the volcanoes are so big, you could climb them.

The most accessible volcanoes — eruptions that can be witnessed without leaving the warmth of your car heater — are found at the northern end of Lake Michigan where US-2 skirts its shorelines just west of St. Ignace.

We ventured to P.J Hoffmaster State Park on the outskirts of Muskegon.

From just outside Gillette’s visiting center we picked up the park’s half-mile Lake Michigan Trail and headed west for the big blue. The trail begins as a massive boardwalk and viewing area that are handicapped accessible, designed to allow everybody to experience the solitude of the sheltered back dune.

From the boardwalk the Lake Michigan Trail continues as an easy-to-follow path, even in the winter, until it breaks out of the hardwoods and pines into the park’s grassy foredunes. In about three steps we went from the sheltered winter forest to a sweeping view of the beach; we headed toward the lake and then gingerly walked onto the frozen shelf and across its ragged surface.

We peered down at its overhanging edge, made smooth by the continuous slaps of the surf, and admired huge icicles pointing toward the open water. For a while, the hope that a volcano will erupt is enough to keep you warm.

Author and world traveler Jim DuFresne resides in Clarkston and is a regular contributor to Michigan Blue.  Michigan Blue magazine, Michigan's Lakestyle magazine, is published bi-monthly by Gemini Publications.

(This article first appeared in the January/February 2008 issue of Michigan BLUE Magazine.)

The rustic cabins at Harlow Lake near Marquette are headquarters for a perfect winter weekend adventure.

The snow-covered forest is a patchwork of blues as the full moon filters through towering, old-growth pines. An open expanse of snowy lake is painted pastel, but deeper in the woods, shadows drip inky indigo.

Creaking snowshoes and the soft squeak of fresh powder underfoot are the only sounds this winter night as we tramp down the trail to our cabin for the weekend. The night tightens around us as the moon slides behind a cloud bank harboring another band of Lake Superior-inspired snow squalls. But the cabin's cheerful window glow guides us the rest of the way to where four friends and a roaring woodstove await.

These are the Harlow Lake cabins of the Little Presque Isle tract of the Escanaba River State Forest, just north of Marquette in the central Upper Peninsula. Though Marquette (population 20,000) is the U.P.'s biggest urban area, these cabins and surrounding acres of mature hemlocks see relatively light use, so a winter day spent in the woods at Harlow is often a solitary one.

The Michigan Department of Natural Resources maintains five rustic, one-room, walk-in cabins generously spaced around the 64-acre, kidney-bean-shaped lake. An additional cabin perches on the high bank of nearby Harlow Creek. While the cabins lack electricity or plumbing and are only spartanly furnished, the surroundings are luxuriously wild. In this region of northern Marquette County, the sandy plains of the southern U.P. collide head-on with ancient bedrock slabs. The result is a series of rounded bald-rock peaks and forested valleys that parallel the undeveloped Lake Superior coastline.

Cover it all up with a couple feet of lake-effect powder, and you have the perfect setting for a winter-weekend adventure.

Our friends are thinking the same thing, poring over trail maps by candle and lamplight on the big pine plank table that dominates a corner of the small room. Everybody is stripped down to their long underwear as the woodstove chews through birch and oak splits from the overflowing wood rack outside. Besides warming us, the stove is working on a simmering stew and pot of red wine mulled with cinnamon and cloves. The food smells almost win out over the odor of our wet dogs and wool socks drying nearby. Almost.

At daybreak, four of us set out for an ambitious snowshoe hike to bag two of the 1,000-foot peaks that shoot out of the woods near the cabin. A series of loosely marked trails and a converted railroad grade link the bald, granite knobs of Hogback and Sugarloaf mountains. A three-mile section of the North Country Trail running along the Lake Superior coast will bring us back to the cabin door at day's end.

In all, the Harlow Lake area boasts about 20 miles of trails that range from flat to ambulance-ride steep, allowing for several days worth of exploring on skis or snowshoes.

Scrambling up the last yards over icy granite to the top of Hogback is a hands-and-knees affair. However, as soon as you top out on the 1,200-foot precipice, all the gasping, sliding and scrambling of the previous hour disappear. The air is still; everything is quiet under a bluebird sky. We dangle our legs over the cliff's edge and lay back on the sun-warmed rocks. This is sunbathing, Yooper style.

The hike up Hogback and exploration of side trails would have been enough to fill a great day, but Sugarloaf Mountain beckons from across the valley, where it rises dramatically right from the Lake Superior coast.

This three-mile hike from Hogback to Sugarloaf offers a lesson in Lake Superior weather, as deep snow inland dissolves into mere inches as we approach the lake. The big water sends bands of heavy snow clouds to the interior where they dump on higher terrain, while the shoreline stays relatively mild in both temperature and snowfall.

The view from atop Sugarloaf is astounding. To the north, the scimitar shoreline swings out to Little Presque Isle point, an island a hundred yards offshore, beyond it, only the endless blue of the world's largest body of fresh water. Look west or south and you'll see only forest, broken here and there by rocky outcroppings and lakes. Turning to the east, you see Marquette, tiny and tidy tucked between the shore and hills.

The historic city, founded by our lake's namesake, Amos Harlow, is experiencing rejuvenation along its once-commercial lakefront. A suite of silent sporting events like the Noquemanon Ski Marathon and the Ore to Shore Mountain Bike Race have given it a reputation as a playground for the active traveler. Northern Michigan University's 8,000 students keep the old town feeling young, and an abundance of unique local restaurants and eclectic coffee shops cater to visitors and locals alike.

We scramble down the backside of Sugarloaf to meet the lake, a blend of small sandy beaches, cobblestones and smooth-bedrock points. The trail hugs the sinuous shore, climbs to the edge of 50-foot cliffs over the water, then drops to a big sand beach at Little Presque Isle. In summer, the island is reachable by wading waist deep in the shockingly cold lake, but in winter an ice bridge forms, and you can walk right to it. The backside of the island has sheer cliffs that often form wild ice formations after a storm.

We're all moving a little slower after the day's climbs. Even the dog is wondering whose idea it was to go this many miles in deep powder. He'd been bouncing through the snow in front of us all day, but now is taking the easy road, plodding on the packed trail behind us, tongue swinging low.

A yellow glimmer through the trees and the smell of wood smoke guide us across Harlow Lake as shadows stretch to the east. As we pile into the cabin, ruddy-cheeked and tired-eyed, we notice two things are different. Our sopping wet clothes from the day before are dry and folded, and there's a huge pizza and a growler of locally brewed ale waiting for us. The two sleepy heads who opted to stay back today and soak up some cabin time made a dash into Marquette, where they did laundry and restocked provisions.

The Harlow cabins are certainly wild, but with a gem of a town like Marquette nearby, not so wild that you can’t eat well and enjoy dry undies.

Aaron Peterson is a writer, photographer and cabin connoisseur based near Marquette. Lisa Jensen is the editor of MichiganBLUE Magazine.

IF YOU GO

Harlow Lake is about five miles north of Marquette off County Road 550. Harlow Lake Road, unpaved but decent, takes you to a parking area convenient to the cabins. The farthest walk in is about a half mile to Cabin 5 (my favorite). Cabins have water from a hand pump, and firewood is supplied. Furnishings include a table, benches and four unpadded bunks. A standard-issue, MDNR vault toilet rounds out the rustic experience.

Cabins are $65 per night, with a two-night minimum. Reservations are taken beginning in November each year at the Marquette MDNR office: (906) 228-6561. If cabins aren't your thing but hiking is, plop down at The Landmark Inn, an historic boutique hotel in Marquette's charming downtown. A 15-minute drive gets you to the Harlow Lake area.

Downtown Marquette boasts three unique coffee shops and a handful of eating establishments for all tastes. Also, take a drive up Third Street for additional great, locally owned venues. Between Marquette and Harlow, stop by Phil’s 550 Store in the little cluster of homes just north of town, referred to locally as “Philville.” It’s a catch-all convenience store with a good variety of beverages, area maps and lots of local color.

If you need gear, check out The Sports Rack on Washington Street downtown or Down Wind Sports on Third Street for all your silent sports needs.

 (This article first appeared in the November/December 2006 issue of Michigan BLUE Magazine and is reprinted here with the permission of the writer and MichgianBLUE Magazine)

If you’re ready for an adventure that takes you off the beaten trail, head for one that’s gone to the dogs.

Learning to mush sled dogs across the Upper Peninsula in 20-degree weather may not be everybody’s ideal travel excursion.

But I happen to produce a television program that features outdoor adventures that families can enjoy together — activities that are a bit off the beaten path, maybe, but aren't so extreme as to preempt the average viewer from considering getting off the couch to try them.

This is how I discovered Iditarod racer Ed Stielstra and his wife, Tasha, who are sled dog mushers in McMillan. Their business, Nature's Kennel, and passion, breeding and raising dogs to run the Iditarod, are found less than one hour from the Upper Peninsula's scenic Tahquamenon Falls State Park.

From first snowfall through early May, the Stielstras (who own just over 100 adored and enthusiastic canines) conduct dog sledding adventures for the general public. You can take a two-hour ride with them from their kennel in McMillan; you can also catch sled rides from them at Boyne Highlands in Harbor Springs on most winter weekends. Or if you have an adventurous spirit; Ed and Tasha will teach you to drive your own five-dog team.

Equipped with the right attitude, a little training and a willingness to immerse yourself in the challenges and elation of an Iditarod participant, you're ready for a 25-mile, overnight trek through rarely seen wintry regions of the Eastern Upper Peninsula.

My two-day, overnight excursion began at 8 a.m. with greetings and breakfast at the Stielstras; McMillan home and kennel. Our group, at the maximum of six. then headed out for our first sled driving lessons. We learned how to harness a dog and drive the sled before embarking behind a guide along a three-mile practice loop. After lunch at the Stielstra home, we packed our own hobo dinners of meat, potatoes and vegetables in foil packets for cooking later over a campfire. Then we broke apart to each meet our personal team of five dogs.

Mine, Hairy, Dill, Jack, Feta and Violet, included overactive players who couldn't wait to hit the trail. These guys are all wired to run, noted Ed, who was the ninth musher to register for the 2007 Iditarod. The ones who get left behind get pretty upset (Maple, lying pitifully on his doghouse, head on paws, illuminated that sentiment).

For me, the challenge of learning something new is always enjoyable. Ed, Tasha and their guides spent a significant amount of time with guests, teaching us how to properly harness the dogs, hitch them to the sleds and fashion them with booties, if needed. They also demonstrated what to do if we slipped off.

Hooking up the team and leaving the kennel are probably the most intimidating parts of the whole trip. There is no slow acceleration, there is only go! It's a balancing act that entails a little adjustment and a short practice run. Physically, it isn't difficult at all: 70-year-old women and 12-year-olds have made this trip, including winter camping, which is surprisingly warm. (Participants on our run were shedding layers after our first long trip.)

Transforming from timid, uneasy spectator to confident, excited participant is an exhilarating process, and our trip was more than I imagined. The trail system gently wound through an endless array of pine forests, inland lake shorelines and serene, open fields. Frost glinted on various leaves and thistle stalks lining the trail. Once running, the dogs quickly quit barking. The silence was amazing.

As quickly as the day started, it came to an end: Meeting the love of your life on a dinner date and talking for hours straight through until dawn comes to mind as a similar experience. Winter camping is less romantic, unless you can appreciate that you are experiencing exactly what mushers do at an Iditarod check point.

Ed earned 46th place in the 2006 Iditarod. The ultimate dog sled race, stretching from Anchorage to Nome, is equivalent to driving from Detroit to Atlanta in sub-zero weather with minimal food, safety gear, one big gun, the unpredictability of an Alaskan winter — and good odds for an untimely demise if you or one of your dogs gets hurt. The indescribable bond between musher and team is the fuel that drives their spirit on the frozen trail. Survival depends on each taking care of the other. This deep simplicity emerged as we anchored the sleds, removed the dogs from their leads, checked them for bruised or cracked paws, supplied hay for sleeping and fed them their evening meal.

The camp consisted of a rustic outhouse and two tents: one for the guides, one for the guests. Ours was a canvas-walled enclosure outfitted with basic bunks and a steadily burning wood stove that kept the interior 40 degrees warmer than the outdoor temperature. It was no Sheraton, but there was real joy in cooking our self-made hobo dinners over a blazing campfire, while sharing hot cider, coffee and stories from the day's journey.

Bundled on the bunks in insulated sleeping bags, fleece hats and, in some cases, long johns (although I was completely comfortable in shorts and a T-shirt), sleep came easily and quickly for everyone.

A haunting, wolfish howl shattered the silence at dawn, followed by another, then a dozen more. Soon the cacophony of yelps, barks, dog chains and banging tin pans enveloped our camp. We were greeted by sun just cresting jack pine and birch, and the smell of eggs, bacon, sausage, pancakes and coffee wafting from a crackling campfire.

The dogs were yelping in excitement, another run lay ahead. Adrenalin closed in. None of us could wait to leap into the wind and onto the winding trail leading home.

Byron Goggin hosts the Emmy winning Wild Weekend. Lisa Jensen is editor of  MichgianBLUE Magazine.

(This article first appeared in the Jan/Feb. 2008 issue of MichgianBLUE Magazine, and is reprinted here with the permission of the writer and MichiganBLUE Magazine)

Gaylord's Aspen Park  is a cross-country skier's haven and an animal lover's delight.

There are two places in Michigan where it's possible to see elk while cross-country skiing; the Shingle Mill Pathway in Pigeon River Country State Forest, and Gaylord's Aspen Park.

We've skied at Shingle Mill Trail  a half dozen times and never seen an elk or even the tracks of one. But the first time we skied at Aspen Park we saw elk; because it was impossible to miss them. There were six of them: huge animals just standing on the edge of the woods a hundred yards away from us before two of the bulls suddenly squared off and clashed antlers.

All of this groomed ski trails, a hemlock forest and clashing elk was in the middle of Gaylord, four blocks from a K-Mart.

Open since 2001, Aspen Park is a dandy. The Gaylord Department of Public Works used a $250,000 state grant to redesign this 100-acre park by building two miles of trails and adding benches, mini-shelters and trail signs.

They finished off the project by installing lights for night skiing: fitting for Gaylord, which averages more than 140 inches of snow per year due to its lofty position. At 1,380 feet, it's the highest incorporated city in the Lower Peninsula.

The reason for the elk is Aspen Park's location: It's adjacent to the city elk pen, a 105-acre enclosure that contains a herd of more than 30 animals. If you've never seen an elk this close, you're in for a treat. They are an impressive species, with some of the bulls easily tipping the scales at more than 600 pounds and crowned with huge racks.

The public works department feeds and manages the herd and also maintains an elk viewing area just off Old US-27, where people can sit in their cars and watch the animals. However, seeing the elk while skiing Aspen Park is much more enjoyable. The park has five short trails that form an easy, 1.65-mile loop with two crossover spurs and are groomed regularly for classic skiing. We skied it in a counter-clockwise direction, beginning with a gentle descent from the parking lot to the first segment of the Hemlock Trail.

Within a few minutes we had skied through the pines, passing a few large hemlocks along the way, and arrived at North Trail. This trail led us out of the woods to the north end of the loop where there was a mini-shelter that overlooked the elk pen. When six strolled out of the woods, we watched them in fascination until it was too dark to see them across the field any longer.

We completed the loop by skiing Elk Trail. Along the way, the lights suddenly popped on, illuminating the trail and casting a soft glow into the dark woods. Reason alone to ski Aspen Park all over again.

Writer Jim DuFresne resides in Clarkston. Lisa Jensen is the editor of MichiganBLUE Magazine.