MLive says: “Do yourself a big favor next time you are in the Harbor Springs area -- take a scenic drive along M-119. The roadway, known as the Tunnel of Trees, curves along the western edge of much of Emmet County and is considered one of the country's most scenic highways. As the name suggests, you will feel like you have entered the passageway to some forest kingdom. You wouldn't be surprised if cartoon birds started singing a song to you as you passed. In the fall, you can't beat the colors here. Plus, you can peek at the gorgeous waters of Lake Michigan, which you'll follow for the entirety of M-119.”
February 29, 2020
I’ve driven through tunnel of trees before, and it is GORGEOUS! Honestly, though, most of Michigan’s 2-lane highways can be a tunnel of trees anywhere in the northern half of the state. Considering it’s winter and I wasn’t going to get any remarkable foliage, I decided to explore a different spot in Emmet County: Wilderness State Park.
I meant to camp at Wilderness State Park last summer, but was seriously stormed out the night I was due there. I’m glad I finally made it to this amazing stretch of Lake Michigan shoreline - it was perfection, even covered in snow! Luckily, this leap year gifted us some warm and sunny weather on February 29 - I was thrilled to spend my extra day outside hiking with my good friend Jessyca (who lives in Petoskey, and who I was visiting this particular weekend).
We started our day at the State Park by walking out to the beach front and admiring the frozen lake - the sun kept peeking out from behind puffy white clouds, casting awesome shadows on the ice. It was windy on the lake, so we took some photos and then headed inland to hike.
The trail started near a marsh and frozen pond, right off of a pine-lined trailhead. We stopped almost immediately to play with cattails and admire their unique shapes and textures against the otherwise snow-coated and frozen pond.
As we continued down the trail, we came to a small dam where water from the lake was rushing into a river - farther down the trail the river split into two smaller creeks. We followed the water for part of the trail and enjoyed the company of soft trickling liquid water, even though we were surrounded by snowy pines and snow banks on either side of the trail itself. There’s something so refreshing and novel about hearing moving water in the winter - it feels out of place and impossible, and like a promise for warmth and movement.
The trail we hiked was dominated by coniferous species of all kinds: cedar, fir, spruce, pine…all of them kept our trail green instead of winter’s typically brown & gray flora skeletons.
The trail led us to a fork - on the map, it looked like we could take one direction to the lake, or the other back around to finish our loop. We decided we would do both, and set off toward the lake first - it was a short jaunt off the main loop we had decided to hike. Unfortunately, the lake trail actually took us to another trail head on the main park road. Choosing not to be discouraged, we walked through the parking lot, across the park road, and through thick foliage to get to the lake. I came out with a few twigs stuck in my knit hat and hair, but it was worth it. I couldn’t tell, coming out of the trees, if we were stepping onto a beach or just frozen lake. Either way, it was a gorgeous icy wasteland full of blues and grays and purples. Looking east per Jessyca’s exclamation, I saw the Mackinac Bridge.
I have said it many times, and I’ll say it a million times more: Michigan is the perfect place to admire the color blue. A frozen lake reminds of a million things; it’s a topographic map with its frozen layers, a moving puzzle piece of ice shards and sheets, a water-logged desert, a chilling windy tundra, and a sleeping beast waiting to awaken in the spring. Lakes are so alive, and seeing them at rest in the winter is such a privilege. Beneath the inches of ice that held me on the surface, though, the water still flowed, fish still swam, and currents pushed sediment across the lake bottom. Even at rest, they are still very much at work.
After admiring Lake Michigan and the Straits of Mackinac, we made our way back to the hiking path. We finished out our hike with more gorgeous coniferous forest. Jessyca commented that parts of this trail reminded her of Sequoia National Park in California, which she visited last summer. I haven’t been, but I can imagine what she means. The pines stood tall and gently swayed above us, despite their trunks which we could hardly wrap our arms around. The large trees were matched with smaller versions of themselves, closer to the forest floor, peering up toward the sky trying to compete for space until they either succeed or find themselves stunted and stuck.
Our hike took us through a wetland after we exited the higher parts of the forest - the dominant species turned to cedar and the foliage on the ground was thick and saturated. Upturned tree roots bordered the path where they became too water-logged to hold trees upright. We were so absorbed in our hike that we didn’t notice a large white-tailed doe standing rather near the trail, until she startled and ran off with a grunt when we got too close. The wetland path took us back to the opposite side of the dam from the earlier part of our hike, and we followed the original trail back a few hundred yards to the trail head. Overall, we assumed we hiked 3-4 miles, although neither of us were keeping track. Sunny winter days full of magical nature surprises don’t require tracking steps and mileage - they just require our undivided attention and gratitude.
