LAKE MICHIGAN 2023
A Record Shattering Seventh Crossing
I dedicate this crossing to my 9-year-old granddaughter, Lola.
INSPIRATION CAN COME FROM ANYWHERE.
Mine came from my 9-year-old granddaughter.
Mine came from my 9-year-old granddaughter.
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When I last spoke with my nine-year-old granddaughter she asked me how many times I had crossed Lake Superior. She was thinking I had done it six times. I had to correct her as I have only solo paddled across Lake Superior once, it was Lake Michigan that I had crossed six times. Just knowing that she thinks about this, and boasts to her friends about what her grandfather does for a hobby, made me proud.
Lola did not know at the time that I had been thinking about crossing Lake Michigan again. Before we finished talking, because of her interest, I committed to what would be a record shattering seventh Lake Michigan crossing. Before we said good bye, I told her of my plans and that I am dedicating this next grand adventure to her. |
When speaking with my youngest daughter Elizabeth the next day, she shared with me how excited Lola was when I told her that I was dedicating my next Lake Michigan crossing to her. There was no going back now. I did not tell Elizabeth that I had been closely watching the weather forecasts and that a window of opportunity was forming for acceptable lake conditions as soon as two days.
That same evening I look at the weather reports in Two Rivers, Wisconsin and Ludington, MI. For the first time all the hourly wind forecasts for Saturday are equal or less than 8 mph. It’s A Go! |
Having notified Wisconsin’s State Park Department of my plan to park my car at Point Beach State Forest for a couple days, and telling the US Coast Guard of my itinerary, all the boxes have been checked off. But, I keep in the back of my mind the USCG’s forewarning of NOAA’s Lake Michigan forecast of heavy rain and winds exceeding 15 knots in some areas. It is his recommendation that I do not go.
It is customary for me to walk the beach below Wisconsin’s Rawly Point Lighthouse the night before. This gives me a chance to ‘get my head in the game’ and assess the lake’s temperament.
The 113-foot tall Rawley Point Lighthouse stands grand just off to my right with its beacon of light brightly shining. The lake looks more inviting than I can remember. Children are swimming in the lake as their parents are seated on the beach not far away. Out in the distance, fishermen are trying their luck with a late evening salmon run. I am feeling good about the lake's temperament and tomorrow's weather conditions.
The 113-foot tall Rawley Point Lighthouse stands grand just off to my right with its beacon of light brightly shining. The lake looks more inviting than I can remember. Children are swimming in the lake as their parents are seated on the beach not far away. Out in the distance, fishermen are trying their luck with a late evening salmon run. I am feeling good about the lake's temperament and tomorrow's weather conditions.
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I drive into Two Rivers to the local Pick N Save grocery store. I find everything here that I need, including powdered electrolyte to supercharge my water. I am excited as everything is coming together so very smoothly.
Before I leave the parking lot I message my friend, Sister Susan Loefflen of my plans. I ask for her thoughts and prayers. It’s always good to have God on your side, although we know he always is. Then I announce on Facebook my plans. I figure the more support the better. When I leave the Pick N Save parking lot I will no longer have access to the internet. There will be no turning back. If things change, I will never know. I must trust my plans.
I make it back to the Point Beach parking lot and set up for the night. I must hurry as the wind is picking up, the temperature is dropping, and the threat of rain is great. I settle in just before the sky opens up. I am covered up by brilliant lightning, clapping thunder, heavy rain, and strong winds. Not allowing for worry to creep in, I roll over and think about the calm after the storm. It’s all very reassuring.
Before I leave the parking lot I message my friend, Sister Susan Loefflen of my plans. I ask for her thoughts and prayers. It’s always good to have God on your side, although we know he always is. Then I announce on Facebook my plans. I figure the more support the better. When I leave the Pick N Save parking lot I will no longer have access to the internet. There will be no turning back. If things change, I will never know. I must trust my plans.
I make it back to the Point Beach parking lot and set up for the night. I must hurry as the wind is picking up, the temperature is dropping, and the threat of rain is great. I settle in just before the sky opens up. I am covered up by brilliant lightning, clapping thunder, heavy rain, and strong winds. Not allowing for worry to creep in, I roll over and think about the calm after the storm. It’s all very reassuring.
After a surprisingly good night’s sleep I wake up ten minutes before 5AM. I allow myself to warm up to the day and don’t leave the comfort of my car until 5AM. The second thing I do is walk to the beach where I take in Lake Michigan’s grand view and assess the adventure ahead.
It is a beautiful morning view. The sun off to my left is about to break free of the clouds. About 2-3 miles out there is a line of fishermen trolling for salmon. The wind and waves are reasonable in size, but I was hoping for even a little more calm. It's just wishful thinking, I know.
It is a beautiful morning view. The sun off to my left is about to break free of the clouds. About 2-3 miles out there is a line of fishermen trolling for salmon. The wind and waves are reasonable in size, but I was hoping for even a little more calm. It's just wishful thinking, I know.
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All is good. It is a go!
Just before 6AM I begin to drag everything to the edge of the lake. On my way I try making sense of a recently made pattern in the sand. Someone was here not too long before me. I look up and down the beach and out into the lake, I see no evidence of my predecessor and what he or she may be doing. It has me wondering
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I arrive at the edge and begin to gear up. Then, I see this lone figure approaching from directly in front of me. It is a fisherman with a huge net and several rods shooting off to the sides from his fishing kayak. I begin taking pictures of his approach and this encouraging site.
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When he lands we begin to chat. He pridefully shows off his prized catch. His salmon is so large it exceeds the capacity of his large freezer bag. He laughs, “Looks like I need to get a bigger bag.” I wonder, “How did he keep from tipping over when pulling in such a large trophy.
After exchanging stories and hearing his assessment of today’s lake conditions and his understanding of the weather forecast, I am all the more encouraged of today’s grand adventure. With his approval, best wishes, and push from off the beach, I officially launch at 6:20 AM. With the wave of my right hand I give thanks to my new friend, and trophy fisherman, Dan Hoefert.
After breaking through where the waves first crash onto the shallows of Lake Michigan (see photo right about 50 feet ahead of me), I shake off a large wave that crashes into my chest and hope there are no more. ________________________ I am now in the open waters and at the start of my grand adventure. As my mind remains in the logistics mode, I think of all those things that I did, wished I did, and regret not doing. It all doesn’t matter, as what I have is all that I got and whatever Lake Michigan throws me, I will have to accept and adjust.
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I set my mind and kayak pointed in the direction of ESE 104º where Big Sable Lighthouse awaits.
During the first hour I will try to focus and master the rhythm of the lake. It often takes about forty-five minutes for where we learn to dance together and where we achieve a steady, predictable, and smooth rhythm. I have no pretense that I am the lead in this dance. It is my plan to stop to rehydrate every hour. Every two hours I will rehydrate and snack. Every four hours I rehydrate and have a meal. I will not break from this routine as anything less will prove punishing to my strength, energy, and mental clarity. |
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There is no room for error when solo paddling across our Great Lakes. Any thought of doubt, or worry, can be fatiguing or worse. Any misplaced stroke can prove disastrous. After six prior trips across this Great Lake, my favorite, I must fight off off the fleeting thought that this has become routine. To not give her the respect she deserves could prove tragic.
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I find my rhythm quickly. My early morning pace is quicker than expected and am feeling good about my speed. I am benefiting from a moderate wind and its favorable direction, although I am finding it a bit challenging to maintain on course at ESE 104º. The lake appears determined, more so than in the past, to push me north and well off course.
At 7:20AM, one hour into today’s paddle, I pause for a drink and to take my first GPS reading. Before I pull my phone out, I remind myself that this is only a single point of measure and to not overreact, favorably or unfavorably. With the push of my thumb I wake up my phone. After punching in my six digit security code I click on my Google Map app. I am immediately taken aback by how far off course I am, but am encouraged by how much distance I have covered. I remind myself, don’t overreact with your first reading. |
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The second hour goes much like the first. I have found a rhythm, my strokes are fast, smooth, and near effortless. I am making great speed and focus on relaxing my grip on my paddle to conserve energy and avoid blistering. As during the first hour, I am challenged to maintain a ESE 104º direction, but remain determined to keep my kayak pointed on course.
I look over my left shoulder, then my right, and notice I can no longer see any sign of Wisconsin. This tells me I am making great time. After snacking on a granola bar and having a drink of my electrolyte charged water, this is the moment of truth. It is time for my second GPS reading where I begin to pattern my course. |
With the push of my thumb, entering of my passcode, and clicking on the Google maps app, I discover that I am well off course. Far greater than I imagined and further than ever before.
This is not good. The lake is deceivingly much stronger than I thought. If I maintain this direction I will find myself landing somewhere near Frankfurt, about 40 miles north of Big Sable Lighthouse. Hell, I may be headed to Charlevoix if I’m not careful. To make a course correction I change my reading to ESE 120º. I avoid recalculating in my mind my new ETA as it is still early and it will only frustrate. |
As I begin the third hour the lake’s movement changes dramatically. It is no longer small choppy waves that I easily slice through, but large rollers that remind me of the deep open waters off Big Shoal Bay in Lake Huron. These larger and much more powerful rollers will make it harder for me to maintain my new corrected course.
I scan the horizon off to my right for any signal that these waves may get bigger, and possibly worse, begin to break. There is no sign of their letting up, only evidence of their continued onslaught. I look away as I wish to not worry. I remain confident of my studies and don’t allow this surprise to unsettle me. I suspect their source is from last night’s storm. They must be remnants of the heavy winds and rain that the USCG had forwarded me about.
I scan the horizon off to my right for any signal that these waves may get bigger, and possibly worse, begin to break. There is no sign of their letting up, only evidence of their continued onslaught. I look away as I wish to not worry. I remain confident of my studies and don’t allow this surprise to unsettle me. I suspect their source is from last night’s storm. They must be remnants of the heavy winds and rain that the USCG had forwarded me about.
For the next four hours these powerful, determined waves, with their predictable pattern under the cover of a light gray sky poses another challenge. So smooth and calming, I struggle to remain awake. Several times I catch my eyes closing and head falling back. To break this near hypnotic state I reach down, cup my hand, and splash my chest with cold Lake Michigan water. This sudden shock brings back to life, momentarily. I repeat this act often.
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These waves are so large that during my scheduled hourly breaks I must turn my kayak directly into them to avoid a certain spill. It is when reaching to return my bottle of water under the elastic straps atop my kayak, I am at greatest risk of a spill. With neither hand on my paddle, I must use pressure from my hips, knees, and feet to maintain balance.
After about the sixth hour the lake lets up and returns to its more predictable pattern expected of winds of less than 8 mph. It’s a welcomed relief. But, after over the past four hours, despite pointing my kayak ESE 120. I have only been able to maintain a direction of due east. I have expelled a lot of energy and my distance covered has reduced. |
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At near 1:30PM, seven hours into my journey, I make my way to the imaginary Wisconsin/Michigan border in the center of Lake Michigan. It is here where I break to hydrate and have a hearty snack. I then turn my kayak in a southwest direction toward Los Angeles. As loud as I can, I shout out, “Lola! I love you! We got this!”
I repeat this several times as I want to make sure Lola hears me. With Los Angeles being 1,800 miles away, I worry she may not have heard me. With the wind and waves more cooperative, and having changed my compass reading direction to no less than ESE 120º. I begin to track southeast in an attempt to get on course. |
Taking a pause near the imaginary Wisconsin and Michigan border.
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As I enter the east side of Lake Michigan the wind and waves are mixed, and begin to shift and turn directly against me. I know from experience, the wind racing up along Michigan’s west shore will work hard to push me away, north by northwest, toward the middle of the lake. When I am most tired, I will have to work the hardest to make any real progress.
For most of the day the sky is covered by a thin layer of gray. With the lake taking on the color of the sky, the views are quite unremarkable. But, I am fortunate as the thin cloud coverage protects me from what would be a hot beating sun, making today’s paddle all the more difficult.
For most of the day the sky is covered by a thin layer of gray. With the lake taking on the color of the sky, the views are quite unremarkable. But, I am fortunate as the thin cloud coverage protects me from what would be a hot beating sun, making today’s paddle all the more difficult.
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As planned, around the ninth hour I turn my thoughts above to family and close friends that have passed. It is for this reason, for so many years, that I have returned to this Great Lake. It is a closeness that I haven’t found anywhere else. It is here where I give thanks and prayer, and talk to my parents, brother, and grandparents. Then there is my close friend and personal mentor Pamela Caspari, and my life-long best friend Jack Hoyle, who both passed way too early and just a couple weeks apart from each other.
It is when I speak to God, just He and I, I thank him for my good health, opportunity, and for blessing me with an incredible life. I look forward to my next chapter for all that I will discover and accomplish, and for which He only knows. |
Because I have dedicated this trip to Lola, I look up and ask the He, and all the others, watch over her. I pray that Lola will always know how much she is loved, how much support she has around her, and that by her presence and smile alone, she lifts everyone’s spirit. May she forever know how proud I am to be her grandfather.
I wish I could stay in this area of the lake, to reflect, think, and simply enjoy all the company. It is a special place and truly a remarkable experience. But, I have much further to go and the work ahead will only get harder. It is time for me to push forward |
Having taken hourly GPS readings, and several in between, I can no longer deny how far behind plan I am. I can’t dwell on it as it does no good. But I am certain now I will finish well past the 14.5 mile mark, which was my worse case scenario. A 15 hour time begins to come to mind.
I have paddled for 12 hours. By now I should begin to see clear evidence of land and be tracking on Big Sable. At this time I am typically well into my sprint in attempt to set a new personal best time. Because I have been pushed so far off course and covered under a blanket of grayness, I remain dependent on my compass and GPS readings for guidance.
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It is the sounds of Great Lake shipping traffic that signals that I am approaching Michigan’s west coast. I heard in the distance the sound of the S.S. Badger announcing its welcomed return to Ludington. Then hear the discernible sounds of massive diesel engines powering a freighter somewhere far head and I think in front of me. Finally, I spot this Great Lakes freighter. It's working its way up north. Based on its size and estimating that he must be tracking 3-5 miles off shore, I attempt to calculate my distance from shore. It is not encouraging.
Fast tracking behind me and from the the south is a rapidly approaching Great Lakes cruise ship. He is far enough behind me that I am not worried about our crossing paths. But, he is so near I worry about the wake that he is pushing off and that I may get caught up in it. To prepare for its onslaught I turn my kayak around and point it due west toward the passing ship’s direction. It is best that I attack the rapidly approaching wake, rather than to be surprised and be pushed from behind. By the time the wake hits me it has diminished so much it is barely discernible.
The sun is rapidly falling and I am yet no where near shore. I will certainly not be watching the sun set from below the shadows of Big Sable tonight. I turn my kayak around again and take in its view. Because of the cover of gray, all I see is the burning glow of an orange fireball. There will be no brilliant display of color tonight.
The sky begins to darken and temperature quickly dropping. It’s not so cold that I worry about a deep chill overcoming me. Plus, the steady challenge of waves working directly against me keeps me working hard and my core warm.
Ship traffic is heavy tonight. Another freighter is working its way from the north. He too is so far away that I need not worry about our crossing paths or its trailing wake. I wonder, “Will there be more?”
I have paddled for 12 hours. By now I should begin to see clear evidence of land and be tracking on Big Sable. At this time I am typically well into my sprint in attempt to set a new personal best time. Because I have been pushed so far off course and covered under a blanket of grayness, I remain dependent on my compass and GPS readings for guidance.
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It is the sounds of Great Lake shipping traffic that signals that I am approaching Michigan’s west coast. I heard in the distance the sound of the S.S. Badger announcing its welcomed return to Ludington. Then hear the discernible sounds of massive diesel engines powering a freighter somewhere far head and I think in front of me. Finally, I spot this Great Lakes freighter. It's working its way up north. Based on its size and estimating that he must be tracking 3-5 miles off shore, I attempt to calculate my distance from shore. It is not encouraging.
Fast tracking behind me and from the the south is a rapidly approaching Great Lakes cruise ship. He is far enough behind me that I am not worried about our crossing paths. But, he is so near I worry about the wake that he is pushing off and that I may get caught up in it. To prepare for its onslaught I turn my kayak around and point it due west toward the passing ship’s direction. It is best that I attack the rapidly approaching wake, rather than to be surprised and be pushed from behind. By the time the wake hits me it has diminished so much it is barely discernible.
The sun is rapidly falling and I am yet no where near shore. I will certainly not be watching the sun set from below the shadows of Big Sable tonight. I turn my kayak around again and take in its view. Because of the cover of gray, all I see is the burning glow of an orange fireball. There will be no brilliant display of color tonight.
The sky begins to darken and temperature quickly dropping. It’s not so cold that I worry about a deep chill overcoming me. Plus, the steady challenge of waves working directly against me keeps me working hard and my core warm.
Ship traffic is heavy tonight. Another freighter is working its way from the north. He too is so far away that I need not worry about our crossing paths or its trailing wake. I wonder, “Will there be more?”
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The sun is about to disappear below the horizon, yet I have only caught a glimpse of a rapidly blinking light in the direction of where Big Sable should be standing. The speed of its bursts is not typical, but I convince myself to dismiss these anomalies and accept that this is Big Sable. I choose this to be my land marker and paddle toward it.
I am so far off my planned time I try not to get discouraged. While I am not yet tired or having to fend of fatigue, my right hand is revealing the formation of blisters. To give relief I shift pressure points and let my fingers dance, then paddle on. |
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Under the cover of darkness I spot a solitary green light given evidence of a lone fishing vessel. They’re working their lines up along the shore in hopes of catching their limit of salmon. I remain focused on the rapidly blinking set of lights, still unsure if its Big Sable. To the right appears to be the bright lights of Ludington State Park Beach, the likely place where I will set camp tonight.
Tonight’s approach of Michigan’s shoreline is remarkably uneventful. I must not be much further than 3-5 miles off shore and I have yet to clearly identify Big Sable. I find this particularly odd, even a bit puzzling.
Tonight’s approach of Michigan’s shoreline is remarkably uneventful. I must not be much further than 3-5 miles off shore and I have yet to clearly identify Big Sable. I find this particularly odd, even a bit puzzling.
While trying to maintain a straight-line course to these bright, rapidly shooting lights, I must give up on this too. I decide it is best that I maintain a path of directly attacking the opposing waves as they begin to break over the front of my 17’2” open sea kayak. It is nothing to worry about, yet, but it's best to be cautious so late at night and when so tired.
I reset my course which is considerably to the right, and south, of what I think is Big Sable. Sadly, I am certain now, I will not be seeing her tonight as I am how headed toward Ludington State Park Beach, my final destination.
At about 15.5 hours, finally, I hear the discernible sound of waves crashing on shore. Rather than shouting out a cheer of joy, I remain cautious. Tonight’s lake conditions and lack of discernible sighting of a land structure remains puzzling, slightly eerie, even a bit unsettling. Then, I see the welcoming sign of Michigan’s shoreline. Today’s journey is about to come to an end.
I reset my course which is considerably to the right, and south, of what I think is Big Sable. Sadly, I am certain now, I will not be seeing her tonight as I am how headed toward Ludington State Park Beach, my final destination.
At about 15.5 hours, finally, I hear the discernible sound of waves crashing on shore. Rather than shouting out a cheer of joy, I remain cautious. Tonight’s lake conditions and lack of discernible sighting of a land structure remains puzzling, slightly eerie, even a bit unsettling. Then, I see the welcoming sign of Michigan’s shoreline. Today’s journey is about to come to an end.
I quickly veer off to the right to avoid running into a well hidden and protective sand bar. I turn my headlamp settings to maximum brightness to help me navigate Lake Michigan’s shoreline.
I am thankful that I don’t have anyone waiting to greet me on this trip. Being so far behind schedule I would hate to worry someone. Plus, having to worry about that would have added stressors to an already long and challenging journey.
I work my way down shore toward a soft cast of lighting. I am certain this must be Ludington State Park Beach just around the bend. As I make my approach, the first appearance of discernible building is made. I feel a sense of relief, rather than accomplishment, as the end of today’s grand adventure is approaching.
The closer I get the more puzzled I am. This building’s shape, which I think must be on the north edge of the state park, is unfamiliar to me. As I approach, this building is considerably narrow and tall. Just as I am about to pass it, I can’t believe it, this is Big Sable Lighthouse!
Knowing the area well, I quickly turn to my right and paddle away from shore to avoid hitting its protective steel embankment and large rocks below.
I try making sense of all of this. I wonder, “Why is Big Sable so dimly lit?" Its lights are so dim that I wasn’t aware of its presence until I passed directly underneath. Big Sable tonight provides no benefit for those who may need it while out at sea, like me. I then wonder, “Where did I first reach the shore of Lake Michigan tonight” and “What were those lights that I was using to help navigate?”
Rather than dwelling on all these questions and attempt to make sense of what just happened, I need to refocus on the lake and my final leg.
I am thankful that I don’t have anyone waiting to greet me on this trip. Being so far behind schedule I would hate to worry someone. Plus, having to worry about that would have added stressors to an already long and challenging journey.
I work my way down shore toward a soft cast of lighting. I am certain this must be Ludington State Park Beach just around the bend. As I make my approach, the first appearance of discernible building is made. I feel a sense of relief, rather than accomplishment, as the end of today’s grand adventure is approaching.
The closer I get the more puzzled I am. This building’s shape, which I think must be on the north edge of the state park, is unfamiliar to me. As I approach, this building is considerably narrow and tall. Just as I am about to pass it, I can’t believe it, this is Big Sable Lighthouse!
Knowing the area well, I quickly turn to my right and paddle away from shore to avoid hitting its protective steel embankment and large rocks below.
I try making sense of all of this. I wonder, “Why is Big Sable so dimly lit?" Its lights are so dim that I wasn’t aware of its presence until I passed directly underneath. Big Sable tonight provides no benefit for those who may need it while out at sea, like me. I then wonder, “Where did I first reach the shore of Lake Michigan tonight” and “What were those lights that I was using to help navigate?”
Rather than dwelling on all these questions and attempt to make sense of what just happened, I need to refocus on the lake and my final leg.
Knowing the area, I understand, I have another two miles to paddle before I reach the state park where I will set camp for tonight. As I make my way down the lake I am careful to keep a safe distance from shore to avoid running into any hidden sandbars, and the messiness where the waves crash along the shoreline and collide with prior waves’ backwash.
Despite my best efforts I manage to catch my paddle on the bottom of the lake a few times and get covered by waves as they crash over the side of my kayak. I remain determined not to spill, especially so near today’s ending, and because I have dedicated this journey to Lola.
As I make my way around a slight bend I catch sight of the reflective markings on the buoys that define the park’s swimming area. I make my way through and decide to paddle toward the south end of the park which is in front of its large stately building. As I plan my arrival I anticipate a tricky landing and even more challenging exit from my kayak. Luckily, no one is at the park so late at night so no one will know of my certain embarrassing attempt.
Despite my best efforts I manage to catch my paddle on the bottom of the lake a few times and get covered by waves as they crash over the side of my kayak. I remain determined not to spill, especially so near today’s ending, and because I have dedicated this journey to Lola.
As I make my way around a slight bend I catch sight of the reflective markings on the buoys that define the park’s swimming area. I make my way through and decide to paddle toward the south end of the park which is in front of its large stately building. As I plan my arrival I anticipate a tricky landing and even more challenging exit from my kayak. Luckily, no one is at the park so late at night so no one will know of my certain embarrassing attempt.
I pick up my speed and run my kayak up on the beach. As expected, the back of my kayak remains perilously hanging over the beach’s descent. When the first wave crashes against me it violently pushes me sideways. I dig my paddle into into the sand to keep from spilling. The front of the kayak becomes dislodged and I now find myself sideways and at the mercy of the pounding waves.
I am bouncing around like a children’s toy and have no other choice. I decide after a pending crashing wave I will lean over to my left and spill out of my kayak. To prepare, I loosen my skirt and toss my dry bag full of food, snacks, and electronics up on shore, then my Werner paddle.
After a crashing wave, I hurry and unceremoniously roll out, quickly jump to my feet, then pull my kayak up to shore. Surprisingly, I did this without falling over or hurting myself. I have to laugh as I am quite proud of myself of this simple feat.
My messy ending officially marks the end of today’s paddle. I finish at 10:53PM. It takes me just over 16.5 hours to cross Lake Michigan. It is my slowest time of record. Because of my northerly route and not knowing where I first approached the shore of Lake Michigan, I have no idea how far I paddled.
My only thought is to call Elizabeth, my daughter. I am sure she is worried as I have arrived much later than I ever expected. I know that phone reception is terrible here, but surprisingly my call goes through. I only have enough time to tell her that I arrived safely before my connection is lost.
I am bouncing around like a children’s toy and have no other choice. I decide after a pending crashing wave I will lean over to my left and spill out of my kayak. To prepare, I loosen my skirt and toss my dry bag full of food, snacks, and electronics up on shore, then my Werner paddle.
After a crashing wave, I hurry and unceremoniously roll out, quickly jump to my feet, then pull my kayak up to shore. Surprisingly, I did this without falling over or hurting myself. I have to laugh as I am quite proud of myself of this simple feat.
My messy ending officially marks the end of today’s paddle. I finish at 10:53PM. It takes me just over 16.5 hours to cross Lake Michigan. It is my slowest time of record. Because of my northerly route and not knowing where I first approached the shore of Lake Michigan, I have no idea how far I paddled.
My only thought is to call Elizabeth, my daughter. I am sure she is worried as I have arrived much later than I ever expected. I know that phone reception is terrible here, but surprisingly my call goes through. I only have enough time to tell her that I arrived safely before my connection is lost.
I then turn my focus to where I will set camp tonight. I find a brick wall that will protect me from the lake’s cooling breeze. After I dry off, change clothes, and inflate my mattress, I slip into bed. I take a moment to listen to the calmness of Lake Michigan’s crashing waves, take in the fresh air, and enjoy the view of a few stars beginning to peak out.
The last thing I remember was my trying to identify a constellation above and hope to see my favorite, Cassiopeia.
The last thing I remember was my trying to identify a constellation above and hope to see my favorite, Cassiopeia.
This marks the end of a remarkable day and what is likely my last Great Lake journey. I take the challenges that she threw me as a forewarning to not push my luck and to cherish those moments she has already given me. I have been blessed, no doubt. I will be forever grateful and am pleased to have safely crossed Lake Michigan a record setting seven times. I am all the more pleased to have dedicated this final crossing to my granddaughter Lola.
Thank you for joining me on yet another grand adventure. I hope my stories and photography inspire adventure in you.
Thank you for joining me on yet another grand adventure. I hope my stories and photography inspire adventure in you.
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LAKE MICHIGAN RECORDS AND INSIGHTS
While there is no central source keeping records of Lake Michigan solo paddle crossings, I believe I hold several: Lake Michigan Records
The Four Parts of a Great Lakes Paddle Part 1: Fresh, excited, optimistic. Part 2: The realization of the strength and endurance needed sets it. Part 3: The strain of the journey hits you. You wonder, “What am I thinking?” Part 4: With the end in sight, spirits are lifted. Thoughts after Finishing The moment of: So tired, you swear never again. Days later: You think of the excitement and accomplishment, and the possibility of another.
For insights on how to prepare for your Great Lakes crossing, click here. |
