Lake Michigan is my first Great Lake Grand Adventure
She isn’t angry. But, neither is she inviting. Wednesday, August 3, at 7AM I complete my solo paddle across Lake Michigan.
It takes me 15.5 hours, 3.5-hours longer than my worse case scenario. Tuesday, August 2, a day after my granddaughters’ second birthday is a beautiful day for a paddle across Lake Michigan. After driving six hours across Minnesota and Wisconsin I arrive at Rawley Point Lighthouse near Two Rivers. Here I coordinate with the visitors center my plan to paddle across Lake Michigan in my 17’2” open sea kayak. They were expecting my arrival as I called the day before asking for their advice and support. After carrying my kayak down the narrow and well travelled trail, then across the sandy beach to where Lake Michigan laps against Wisconsin, I stand tall next to my kayak and look over the horizon. In every direction this wondrous Great Lake goes on forever. This lake is so large, its 1,640 miles of shoreline graces the states of Wisconsin, Illinois, Indiana and Michigan. I am in awe of its shear size and beauty. |
On this hot summer day I look over the magnificent lake with an equally stunning clear blue sky and I study the action of the waves and strength of the breeze. Everything is as planned, although the waves are a little larger and breeze slightly stronger than what I expected and hoped for. Nevertheless, I decide, “ It’s a Go!”
I return to my truck and drive 12 miles to Manitowoc. Here I leave my truck behind where the next day I will make the 60 mile return trip on the 410’ 6” S.S. Badger Ferry. Just outside the gate my taxi is waiting and I make my way back to the lighthouse. My time in the taxi is important as I want to use this half hour to immerse myself in thoughts about my first Great Lake crossing, what it will feel like, and all that it will require.
My driver is a chatty one. He wants to learn all about me, where I live, what I do, why I am here, and where I am going. I try to keep the conversation to a minimum, but he’s not catching my hints. As we reach the outskirts of the city it is clear he has no idea where we are going. I explain to him Rawley Point Lighthouse is neither a restaurant or a hotel, it's actually a lighthouse on Lake Michigan a little further north in Two Rivers. After our uncomfortable and distracting small talk, and my guiding him to the visitor center using MapQuest, we say good-bye. I am frazzled and not focused on what's ahead. |
Back at the visitor center Brittany, the visitor center manager, greets me with a big smile and shows me where I can change. In my sleeveless t-shirt and shorts, it seems as if I'm dressed for a casual stroll on the beach rather than a solo paddle across our second largest Great Lake based on volume. I’m optimistic. The temperature is in the low-to-mid 70s and Lake Michigan’s water is about the same.
As I make my way to the beach I can feel the cool breeze coming off Lake Michigan. When the lake comes in view I notice the wind has picked up and the waves are a little larger than an hour earlier. I stand behind my bright read and white kayak and look over the vastness of this beautiful lake and consider what I am about to do. The clear blue waters and matching sky and the spectacular backdrop of Rawley Point Lighthouse provides for a storybook beginning. Lake conditions aren’t ideal, but they’re acceptable. I Commit. It's a Go! |
I’m getting in the zone and all pumped up. It won't be but a few more minutes before I climb in and push off on this incredible once-in-a-lifetime journey.
Then those nearby on the beach take interest and begin to gather around. They ask questions about my kayak and what I’m doing. When I share my plans, they glance over the horizon and make comments like, “You’re kidding, right,” and “No Way.”
Then those nearby on the beach take interest and begin to gather around. They ask questions about my kayak and what I’m doing. When I share my plans, they glance over the horizon and make comments like, “You’re kidding, right,” and “No Way.”
One child is taking particular interest in my kayak and is about to slip inside, his mother asks, “Is it OK for him to play with your boat?” I’m thinking, You’re kidding, right? No Way. But, I say, “Of course he can,” as he has already climbed inside.
Another woman comes over and begins sharing her passion for kayaking. She get’s the hint when I tell her. “I have a long trip ahead and I am about to leave.” She offers to take a picture and when she leaves she wishes me a safe journey. |
It’s a great day for them, not so much for me. Just after I launch I have to quickly gain momentum to avoid having these waves powered by the wind coming from the south turn me sideways and flip me over for the entertainment of those watching from the beach.
My pulse is racing, my muscles are tightening as the waves break over my starboard (right) side. I am about to kayak 10 hours (+/- 2) across this most beautiful Great Lake and I’m being challenged at the onset. I am getting a little angry and begin to think, what am I doing? This unexpected and clumsy start does not deter me.
To avoid a spill I change my direction from 100 degrees E to nearly 120 degrees. I do not know what this means in terms of additional distance and time travelled. My only concern now is to remain upright. Now paddling more directly into the waves, my confidence about my safety and excitement for the journey ahead grows. I’m one to two miles off shore now. There’s no going back. I’m all in. |
had planned for the lake to be much calmer by now. In fact, I was hoping for it to be nearly still for an easy ride in. But, so far there has been very little time to pause and take in this incredible journey as every effort has been about holding speed, direction, and remaining upright.
When I break for a moment to either reach for a snack, readjust my sprayskirt, or take a picture from my smartphone, Lake Michigan gives me another reminder that she is not too happy and not to be taken lightly.
When I break for a moment to either reach for a snack, readjust my sprayskirt, or take a picture from my smartphone, Lake Michigan gives me another reminder that she is not too happy and not to be taken lightly.
I get the hint, look above and thank God.
With the sun now setting and no landmarks in sight, I gauge my progress. Several hours into my trip, I determine that I was way too optimistic about my pace. I try not to think what it means and the many more hours it will take to finish this Great Lake crossing. Not too long after the majestic sunset, in what seems to be just a fraction of a second the lake turns to pitch black. It’s as if someone hit the light switch and said good-night. With visibility from my the light of my headlamp reaching not much further than my compass, it’s nearly impossible to anticipate the next set of waves and respond with an appropriate change in stroke. Panic begins to set in. |
Before I took this trip I reminded myself the importance of remaining calm, managing my thoughts and emotions. If panic sets in, the likelihood for a bad decision and for energy to be unnecessarily expended increases exponentially.
After a few minutes I collect my thoughts and have a much greater sense of my paddle and an intimate connection with the lake. No longer am I dependent on what I can see. I sense I have a real feel for the lake’s movement and intent. It’s surreal. I look upward toward the night sky and see Cassiopeia. It stands out alone in the sky. I truly cannot see any other. This W shaped constellation has been my favorite ever since I discovered it at Boy Scout summer camp years, now decades, ago. It’s the first constellation I look for when visiting our summer cottage on Drummond Island’s Big Shoal Bay and I always make it a point to show my daughters. I take this as a sign that all is good and everything will be fine. It provides me with a great sense of relief and a calmness comes over me. Off in the distance to the south I spot the SS Badger Ferry making its last trip of the day from Ludington, MI to Manitowoc, WI. I think about the passengers who are on it and how tomorrow I will be on that very ship on my way back home. My plan was to be off the lake by 2AM. With it now past midnight and no sight of land or a guiding landmark, I have no idea how far away I am or how many more hours I must paddle. Doubt and worry begins to nudge at me, but I push them out by focusing again on what's around and this incredible journey. On this moonless night and before the stars come out it is pitch black. It seems only moments later, when I look up and take in the view of the 100 billion stars that make up the Milky Way. It’s stunning. The lake is momentarily calm so I pause without worry and take in this incredible moment and view. With no one around I let out a shout. Knowing no one can hear me, I shout out a prayer, then another, only louder, giving thanks for all my blessings; family, friends, and loved ones, my good health, and an incredible journey. It is a long heartfelt prayer and well overdue. When I'm done with my moment of prayer it feels as if there has been an incredible weight lifted and all will be well. I no longer feel alone. It’s as if I’m with a thousand others and I wonder who above is watching over me and what they must be thinking. Then I begin to worry about those few that know I am paddling this evening, what they must be thinking or feeling. What if I don’t… What would they do if… I can't go there. A while later the northern lights reveal themselves behind the now partially cloudy sky just north of me. This is the first I remember seeing this magnificent display. I can only imagine its beauty when unobstructed and in full color. I notice the boat traffic beginning to pick up. The occasional Great Lake freighter passes by. To occupy my time and mind, I wonder: is it coming from Gary (IN) or Chicago (IL), where is it headed? What is it carrying? Then, a little to the north is a Great Lakes cruise ship. I am certain there must be a grand party and the captain and his guests are certainly unaware of the solo paddlist spying on them miles away off their starboard (right) side. Vertical Divider
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Finally, I spot a red light far in the distance! This is the first indication of land and it will be my first landmark to guide me in.
This is great news as it is now past 4AM and fatigue is setting in. For 12 hours I have been battling a steady southern wind, tireless waves, with a woefully inadequate food supply. Fortunately, I have access to 6 quadrillion gallons of freshwater to quench my thirst. I so love Lake Michigan. I select a single red light to bring me in. I don’t know where it will lead me, other than somewhere in Michigan and it’s time to end this lake crossing expedition. My thoughts and arms are beginning to weigh heavy. The more I paddle, I begin to wonder; am I making any progress, is the wind stronger than I think, am I just too tired to push through, am I losing my sense of time? Now that I am well beyond my worse-case scenario of finishing before 12 hours, will someone be so worried and call our U.S. Coast Guard? In the middle of Lake Michigan, somewhere I don’t know, out of food and my energy near depleted, I was never worried about failure or worse. With my life jacket, ship-to-shore radio, flares, 76F water, and the best U.S. Coast Guard in the country, I knew if I had to be plucked from the water I would be found. Before this trip and over my first season of paddling I have logged 525 miles on the water. Several trips were of greater distance and time than what is required of me tonight. Additionally, with cross training at the gym, biking, swimming and running, I was certain of my chances for success. My greatest fear was defeat. The embarrassment of not being able to complete a goal for which I planned and well prepared, and so many begged that I do not attempt. To not worry others, I share my plan to paddle across Lake Michigan with only a few. My daughters don’t even know. Among those who I do share my plans there were doubters no doubt. Some said it was a stupid idea, some described it as worse. Others were thrilled about the challenge. I was drawn to this challenge even before the delivery of my custom kayak and first journey onto the local lake. From the onset I was determined and my commitment unwavering. I knew I would wait until after August 1, my granddaughter’s birthday (the same as my older brother of four years who passed away way too soon) as nothing was going to keep me from this most special occasion. I was invited by my friend, Greg, to celebrate my journey with a campfire and drink on the beach. I am already late and have a ways to go, and I can't contact him. Will he be the first to call the U.S. Coast Guard to alert them of a missing kayaker? I pick up my pace to reach this distant red light and begin crossing paths with early morning fishermen, their lines in tow. The red light I am following is now surrounded by several others and I must avoid being distracted by those other false targets. |
With the early rays of the sun the landscape is now beginning to take shape. My mood lifts and I put a little extra effort in my stroke. The clouds to the north of me indicate the sun will soon be on full display. I take another glance at my red light and notice a brighter white light nearer water’s edge. I don’t know why, but I choose this to be my final guiding light and ultimate destination.
The sun reveals itself. WOW! This is the first Great Lakes sunrise that I have experienced miles from shore. The view is stunning. It is daylight now and I can see all the activity on the water. In front of me to the north is a solitary sailor enjoying the morning’s strong breeze. Directly in front of me there must be a hundred recreational, commercial and charter fishermen taking the same oval path around a rich fishing ground. Each one is sure of a record size fish at the end of their line and hoping their morning’s harvest is the greatest among them all. On the shore In front of me is my new guiding light. I can see that it’s a lighthouse, but I don’t know which one. Soon, I notice its discernible black and white horizontal shape and realize this is Sable Point Lighthouse. With only a compass, 15.5 hours of zig zagging across Lake Michigan, 50 miles later, and selecting random lights for my final destination, somehow I hit my original target absolutely dead on. How is this possible? With all the strength that I can muster, I make my way through the last of the fishermen this morning and disrupt their routine. I wonder what they must be thinking as they see this lone kayaker make his way through from what appears to the center of the lake. If they only knew. As fast as I can I run my kayak straight onto Lake Michigan’s pristine sandy beach below and to the south of Sable Point Lighthouse. Too tired to stand, I spill out to the side then struggle to pull my boat up the slight hill. In a hurry, or just not caring, I haphazardly unpack in search of the only thing I want, my down filled sleeping bag. With what strength I have remaining I try making a shallow compression in the sand the length of my body, and with my kayak shielding me from the cool Lake Michigan morning breeze, this is where I collapse and in minutes fall asleep. |