Highpoint #38: Michigan

The Highest Point in Michigan!

After finishing climbing to the highest point in North Dakota, I pushed onward in search of lodging for the night.  This was apparently a tall order in western North Dakota with many hotels not having any rooms available and the few that did requesting upwards of $200 for a night’s stay.  Mind you I was, by all indications, still in the middle of nowhere.  This was, of course, the effect of the ongoing oil boom.  Eventually the exhaustion of the long day (3 state highpoints) and all of the driving meant that I would just have to stay at the next place with a vacancy or risk falling asleep at the wheel.  Sure enough, an overpriced, dingy roadside motel with towels for curtains and a broken window on the screen door would be my home for the night.  Sadly, it was the last room left for the night.  Wow!

The next morning I got an early start on the steady drive back east.  I was in for a long haul of driving to make it to my next destination, the upper peninsula of Michigan.  The gimmicky yet enticing roadside attractions (e.g., world’s largest sandhill crane) that disrupted the monotony of the North Dakota interstate soon gave way to the myriad of lakes that made up northern Minnesota.  As I meandered along comparably more rural roads, I was pleased that my correspondingly slower pace allowed me time to more fully appreciate the backdrop of natural beauty that was passing by.  Who knew Minnesota was so pretty?  I eventually made it to Duluth, eagerly awaiting a delicious meal at the Duluth Grill, and I was not disappointed.  I happily discovered this fine establishment on my winter highpointing trip to Minnesota this past winter, and I was very pleased to have an excuse to return.  After Duluth, it was very rural driving in Wisconsin and finally the upper peninsula of Michigan.  The sun had long set, and I was still burrowing my way into the peninsula. 

Lodging was out of the question, so I kept pushing on to the highpoint:  Mt. Arvon.  I eventually arrived at the dirt turn-off road for the mountain after midnight.  I still had 8 miles of rough logging roads leading most of the way to the summit left to negotiate with daylight still more than a few hours away.  This would be no small feat.  The road has many turns.  In fact, I downloaded and printed out turn-by-turn directions which were measured down to the nearest tenth of a mile, and I still had to pay close attention.  Mind you, there were blue directional markers at several key intersections, but sometimes such markers would be invisible due to overgrowth or simply not present at all.  Another issue was that being certain of the route was not the same thing as being certain of the road.  Some patches were badly eroded and very uneven.  Even with a slow approach, I still managed to bottom out once.  That scraping sound can be heartbreaking in the middle of the night, especially with more miles of equally bad terrain lying in wait.  Some passes were steep and curvy, and the lack of daylight only added to the uncertainty of the route ahead. 



Blue Arrows are Helpful, When Present



Some Signs are Hidden (Good Luck Finding them at Night)

I ended up calling it a night at the old parking lot (read flat grassy area) that is located  a good half mile or so from the summit.  It was around 1am at this point, and I opted to sleep in my car until sunrise.

I awoke in early dawn to a ridiculous number of mosquito bites.  Apparently quite a number of mosquitos and even a few moths entered my car in the brief period that I stepped outside of it before retiring for the night.  The insects were fierce in these parts!

With a light misting rain, I grabbed my raincoat and my headlamp, and I was off to cover the rest of the way on foot.  The condition of the road was consistent with what I had covered the night before, so I apparently could have driven the rest of the way.  From what I have read, it used to be that this was not the case, and proceeding by foot was necessary.  Oh well, I did not mind a little early morning walking.  I followed the final stretches of the road as it wrapped its way up to the summit.  I reached another flat grassy area suitable for parking and a sign for Mt. Arvon. 



Sign Before Entrance to Summit

Beyond the sign, there was a thicket of woods and a wide path leading into it.  


Summit Lies just Ahead

After a few paces, I found myself at the highest point in Michigan which was marked with a fancy sky blue sign in the shape of a diamond.  Beyond the sign, there were still several points of interest to note. 

First among them, of course, is the summit register which was housed in its own official sky blue mailbox.  I added the first signature of the day to it. 

Summit Register

Immediately next to the register is the official summit boundary marker which was housed in a raised stone platform. 

Official Summit USGS Boundary Marker

Vanity Shot at the Summit Marker

There was also an official highpointer’s bench at this site.

Note the Very Large Spider Circled in Red

Rounding out the summit, there was a picnic table, a grill, a memorial wreath for someone who had died, and a sign promising a view. 

View of the Summit Area in Better Light

Could there be?

A view?  This would be interesting since the thick tree growth at this spot was a doing a pretty good job of blocking out most of the daylight and not affording any view at all.  I dutifully followed a path in the direction of the sign and, sure enough, arrived at a small clearing.  I suppose someone was very intent on having a summit view, so they essentially created one.  Oh, well.  This was not so important to me. If anything, I found it very reminiscent of Mt. Rogers, the highest point in Virginia.  To me, it is understood that low elevation highpoints will necessarily be sub-alpine. 

Man-Made View Near the Summit

After taking the usual pictures, I made my way back down to the car and drove carefully the rest of the way down. 

Puddles Give an Indication of the Topography, Pre-Rain

I made a wrong turn near the end, wound up a mile later at a “No Trespassing” sign, turned around and was soon chased down by a very fast moving truck that disappeared once I made it back to the intersection where I made the errant turn.  Someone did not want me around there!  I am glad I did not make that mistake at 1am – yikes!  I eventually made it to the road and back to L’Anse.  Would you believe along the road that I saw a Canadian lynx crossing it?  Whoa!  The fauna here is for real. 

From there on, it was simply the long drive home that awaited me.   This ended up being a really great trip.  I tried for 6 highpoints and managed to visit all of them.  Now I have “the dirty dozen” left.  The level of difficulty is going to jump a bit now…