Da Plains

After two straight weeks of 50 degree weather…

It was disheartening to watch all the snow melt here in one day. How could the snow last for fourteen days of 50-degree temperatures, even in the U.P.? I checked the internet snow cover maps every day and watched the snow depths recede. Depths that started at 48 inches dwindled to zero. Only one depth remained at seventeen inches. And then, the snow cover map stopped getting updated.

My older brother advised me not to give up hope. He is nearly never wrong. I decided to keep the faith and packed my snowmobile attire. My friend Dave did not. I told him he'd be sorry. As we got to the bridge, the straits were still ice-covered. I kept poking him and saying, "Bet ya wish ya had those long undies, eh?" We headed for Grand Marais to see if we could find some snow. No snow in town so we stopped at the Dunes tavern and had a couple pints of their home brew. The sledders had abandoned the town two weeks earlier. We made plans to come back for a hockey game and some more serious drinking with my local friends and headed out for Munising. While making a reservation for a motel we heard of a place that still had snow. The motel manager showed us on a map where the trailhead was.

We got to Munising a few minutes ahead of my brother Marc. Good timing. We settled into his friend's house and started talking about the snow situation. He had not been here for about a month but he just said we'd go to "the plains" and that there would be plenty of snow. His friends Mike and Mary arrived and we all caught up over pizza and driving the dogs into a frenzy with a remote control Jeep. Dave had his snowmobile rental canceled due to lack of snow. Marc called around to his connections to try to get Dave a sled to no avail. Mike and Mary had an extra sled and one of their neighbors did as well. So, we got all the sleds into the trucks and trailers and went in search of snow. When we got out to the trailhead there were about a dozen other trucks and trailers there as well as one trailer that had very large speakers attached to it. Marc said that that was Ken and he'd have some food and music going after the ride. We unloaded the sleds onto a three foot snow bank and got ready to go. There was lots of snow.

The plains is an area that was logged in the 1800's and left bare. The stumps of the original trees have survives the hundred plus since the trees were cut and dot the landscape for miles. You can take off in any direction for miles. There was about a foot of good snow everywhere. It is very fortunate that Mike and Mary were with us because it would be very easy to get lost. Mike knew the area like the back of his hand and Marc had set his GPS unit at the trailhead so we had no worries about getting lost. We rode all over the plains looking for the best route to the lake.

Frequent breaks and the few beers that we packed made for some good comradery on the trail.

We met up with four extra riders that didn't know where they were and they decided to follow us. We drove for about twenty miles, going in and out and through the plains. The conditions were excellent and we were zipping along in-between the stumps and each other at speeds from 60 to 80 mph. Everybody took the utmost care to be aware of each other and we had no collisions or near misses.

Dave's sled started dogging out a little so Mike let Dave ride his while he evaluated the problem. Mike determined that one of the plugs was fouled. One of the folks that were following us had a new spark plug and after a short stop for repairs we were on our way again.

We got to the lake just in time to watch some other riders going across the open water of the lake. We all took a good long break and watched the activities.

Some of the more prudent riders crossed the river below the dam where there is a place to ford the creek.

After about an hour of watching the water sledders, we headed back out into the plains and just rode all over the place. Every once in a while I felt like I knew I had been in a certain place before, but, we kept emerging into the open areas from different directions which made it impossible to get my bearings. Part of the plains has short steep hills all over the place. We came across some more daredevils who were jumping over the tops of the hills. The very tops of the hills were bare with snow leading up to about ten yards from the top. The daredevils would ride down one hill and up the other clearing the top of the hill by about twenty feet.

One of the girls with the tag along riders was getting tired of riding and proclaimed that she "didn't do outdoors". Man! You couldn't ask for a better day to get out and do some sledding. Everyone's ire was peaked by that comment and we all felt a tinge of pity for her boyfriend. They didn't have the heart to tag along with us any further after we took them on a hair-raising trip back through the plains to the main trail. So we parted company and went in search of a trapper's cabin that has a spectacular view overlooking the shipping lanes between Munising and Grand Marais. Mike was at his guiding best as he took us throughout a maze of intertwining two track roads.

The trapper's cabin sat on top of a knoll that rose above the outlying area by about a hundred feet. The land between the cabin and the lake is the area behind the "Devil's Log-slide" which sits about 250 to 300 feet above the lake. We were easily 350 to 400 feet above the lake and the sun was getting ready to set.

We waited around for the obligatory eagle to show himself for about a half-hour. And good old Marc gave me a shove over the edge of the overlook. What a joker! No eagle was seen, so we headed back to the trailhead. Once out of the maze of two tracks we got onto some wider unplowed roads and open it up. Mike was in the lead running at about 110 mph. Marc was right behind him. Dave was ahead of me and we were trying to keep up but we were only topping out at about 90 mph. Let me tell you that 90 ain't chopped liver. The sleds are made for these kinds of speeds and are unbelievably stable. I never felt close to losing control of the sled all day.

Back at the trailhead Ken had his music a rockin and hotdogs on the grill for all who came off the trail. We mingled for about an hour and I ran into a bunch of people that I knew from high school. You just don't have better days.

Now, the following day my body rejected even the slightest hint of movement. Good thing I had medicinal purposes spirits to limber me up. I was feeling fine back in Grand Marais sitting with my best friend Dave and my other best friend from the fourth grade Dave and enjoying an amber ale and a Red Wing victory.

Oh ya, It was my birthday too.