Paddling the Pere Marquette

Paddling the Pere Marquette River

A 70 mile day trip.

I may have been the first to complete this feat the same day.

PADDLING THE PERE MARQUETTE RIVER
This is my all-time favorite river paddle!

With the forecast for unseasonably warm temperatures in the mid-to-high 70s and with low winds, the conditions are too good to pass up the opportunity to paddle Michigan’s Pere Marquette River. My plan is to paddle its entire length, then continue on to Lake Michigan before turning around and finishing at Ludington’s Stearns Park. The total distance is 69.6 miles.

The Pere Marquette is a designated National Wild and Scenic River and considered one of Michigan’s most scenic rivers. There are no dams to portage around. The river averages thirty to forty feet wide, and is often only two to four feet deep. This river may be best known for its trophy fishing.

I am excited to paddle the Pere Marquette. It will be my longest paddle of this short season and I am hoping the experience matches that of other scenic and remote rivers that I have paddled across the Upper Midwest.

The Pere Marquette River beginning. The night before.

The night before I stay at the Pere Marquette River Lodge in Baldwin. In the morning I drive the short distance south to the boat launch on the east side of M37. I arrive around 6:15AM, a little later than I originally planned

There is no one else here, which is good. I am hoping to have much of the river to myself this Tuesday, May 10. The boat ramp is remarkably well designed and is well suited for a river of this exceptional quality. It is made of railroad timbers and framed by large boulders. Its slope is ideal for a smooth entry into this swift flowing, shallow river.

It is so shallow here I can see its sandy bottom across this narrow stretch. I scan the river in hopes of seeing a large trout, steelhead, or king salmon passing by. But, all I see are minnow sized fish. Perhaps in five or six years they will grow to trophy size and become a prized catch for some lucky fishermen.

The Pere Marquette River beginning. Just before launch.

I launch onto the Pere Marquette at 6:40AM with relative ease. The sun is up and it’s already pleasantly warm. I am in good spirit and look forward to paddling and a new grand adventure.

I round the first turn and surprise a blue heron. At no more than 10 feet away it breaks away from its statuesque stance and his favorite fishing hole, to flee my unexpected arrival. This is a good omen as the blue heron is my favorite bird

A little later I hear the distinctive sound of a male ruffed grouse. Somewhere in the woods, atop a low laying log or short stump, this male is letting the ladies know he is available and eager. The low pitched drumming of his wings, increasing in speed and sound, reminds me of a helicopter preparing to take off. It’s a magical sound.

The start of the river paddle is what I expected and hoped for. It’s scenic, twisting, narrow, and full of wildlife. I wonder, "Will it be this nice all the way?"

At the beginning, much of the river is no more than 20 to 30 feet wide. With its swift flowing current, I get pushed into the far corner at every bend. In many of these bends there is a collection of trees from past seasons. Getting caught in, or under, these entangled debris fields can be dangerous.

The Pere Marquette’s frequent sharp turns challenge my skill and strength. Many can be described as s-curve, horseshoe, and even hairpin turns. I often have to suddenly stop and quickly paddle backwards to make a turn and avert certain danger. This is by far the most winding river I have paddled.

Another winding narrow bend.

I adapt by testing different strokes and paddling methods, then discover the best approach for these tricky turns. Before entering every sharp corner I try having my 17’2” kayak already pointed in the correct direction for after the turn. But, if I approach too early, the swift river spins me totally around like a top, causing me even greater work to head in the right direction. For those more moderate turns, or when navigating around fallen trees blocking the river, I try out a new stroke that I learned while watching a top U.S. female paddler when I was racing in Wisconsin a few years ago.

With a near mastery of my new approach and use of a new stroke, I am able to focus more on this river’s incredible beauty and peer into the woods in search of wildlife.

With so many twists and turns, you get a new look of a river stretch every few minutes. Although its early in the day, I am already ranking the Pere Marquette among my most scenic river paddle, rivaling that of headwaters of the Mississippi and St. Croix River, Minnesota’s Rum River and Wisconsin’s Namekagon River.

This morning, the ducks, geese, and eagles are paired up. The occasional small fish jumps out of the water ahead of me. Being able to see the bottom of this shallow river adds to the enjoyment. When my kayak touches the river’s sandy or rocky bottom, it just adds to the excitement.

After every turn is another picture perfect scenic view.

The occasional small rapid, hidden large boulder, or partially submerged tree adds a little adrenaline charge and increased challenge, keeping me alert. Up ahead I hear the sound of another small rapids. I look forward to paddling through this too and having the racing water push me at an even quicker pace.

I scan the narrow stretch of rapids and see nothing to worry about. I see no large boulders or fallen tree. Then, in front of me and to my left, breaking just above the water’s surface I notice an object. I don’t have time to avoid it. I hope it’s a partially submerged tree that will give way when I paddle over it.

I’m not so lucky. It’s a large boulder and there will be no give.

At a pace way too fast, I hit it on the right and instantly spill into the swift flowing and cold Pere Marquette. To protect my face from hitting another rock or the river’s shallow bottom, I let go of my paddle to quickly shield my face with both arms. Upside down and dragging along the river’s bottom, I find it difficult to free myself from my kayak.

I try pushing off from the bottom of my upside kayak, but am unable to break away. I try again, with no luck. The third time, with a twisting motion and pushing off my foot rests, I am able to free myself.

I instinctively pop up in the waist high water and try reaching for my kayak. But, it’s well beyond my reach and I get pushed over by the swift flowing river. I quickly collect myself, begin running and lunging for my kayak. After several failed attempts and falling into the river, I am able to grab onto the rear deck line. I stop its advancement and pull myself toward my now swamped and nearly fully submerged kayak. All the while I keep my eye on my paddle, as well as my bright red dry bag packed with food, electronics, and other miscellaneous items, making their way down river without me.

Ahead is a fallen tree with other river debris. I try pushing myself toward the middle of the river to avoid being caught up in this entangled mess. The weight of my swamped kayak and fast water makes it impossible to avoid it. With a death grip on my kayak, I lower my head just before hitting the tree’s outer branches. Luckily, I am able to plow through without incident or injury.

With my kayak at my left side, I begin leaping and pushing forward to catch up to my paddle. I am being challenged a bit as either, or both, my kayak skirt or loose fitting water proof pants are restricting my stride. After a few minutes I catch up to my Werner paddle.

The cold river water is beginning to chill my body. I’m not too worried for now as I am confident I will soon find a convenient place to exit the river, then change into dry clothes if I need to.

I work my way to the side of the river to empty my kayak. But the river bank is too steep in this area. The best I can do is lodge my swamped kayak against the river’s edge and reenter, then paddle to a safe place to stop, empty my kayak, and collect my nerves.

I look ahead for my dry bag. It’s no where to be seen.

I don’t have to paddle much long before I come across a friendly sandy shoreline to pull everything together and collect my nerves. With my weighted kayak it’s an easy exit. I pull my kayak to shore and notice a fresh set of tracks. Based on their size and depth of their imprint, I am certain they’re from a bear.

After emptying my kayak of the Pere Marquette River, I inspect my forward and rear hatches, and stashed cargo. Everything is surprisingly dry. It doesn’t take long before I’m ready to relaunch. Because it’s quite warm, I decide to continue on without changing into dry clothes. I’ll save those for later, if I have to camp out overnight before finishing my trip tomorrow.

Having to stop to pour the Pere Marquette River out of my kayak.

Before reentering my kayak, I take a moment to stretch and look around and take in the view. To my surprise, not too far down on the other side of the river I see my bright red dry bag snagged in fallen tree. The problem is, it’s snagged in a tree just before a large debris field in another turn in the river.

Paddling to it is not an option. I consider swimming to it, but the river is too swift and the large debris field just below makes it too dangerous. I would hate to continue on without it as in it is my phone charger, headlamp, flashlight, food, suntan lotion, and other items. But, I see no other choice.

This riverbank appears to be a popular spot for bear to sip from the river.

Then I remember reading about the average depth of the Pere Marquette. It is reported to ‘average’ two to four feet deep. On the other side of the river there is a drop off, it appears much deeper than four feet. I worry. If I miscalculate the river’s depth, the strong current will sweep me away and I will certainly get entangled in the large debris field.

I decide to go for it.

As I make my way across I lean into the river and take small, sure steps. I approach the edge of the drop off and look down, as I thought, I am unable to see the river’s bottom. I have no idea how steep the slope is or how deep the river is here. I continue on, leaning aggressively against the swift river. Its strength is greater than what I expected, but still manageable. With the river now chest high, and my dry pack just a few feet further away, I hope the river doesn’t get any deeper.

It doesn’t. I am able to retrieve my dry bag and return to shore without incident.

It is 8:04AM when I reenter my kayak and continue on. In less than an hour after my starting the day, I have spilled into the river and risked being swept down river. I wonder, and worry, how many more of these small rapids will challenge me along the way?

Around every bend I am greeted with another picture worthy scenic view. With the trees not yet in full bloom I am able to peer deep into he woods in search of wildlife. The occasional stretches of remote cottages and homes adds charm to the trip. The small tributaries feeding the Pere Marquette make the river stronger and gradually wider. The bright blue sky with patches of clouds add color and warmth. I have mastered how to navigate the tricky winding turns and have become quite good at paddling over fallen trees, or finding a narrow path to make my way through what otherwise would be a full river obstruction.

The picture perfect views around each bend never end.

I come across a young couple fishing in a classic drift boat.

It isn’t until about four hours into my trip I come across another on the river. It appears to be a young couple with a fishing guide, in a classic drift boat. I ask them how the fishing is. While they’re not having the best of luck, they are enjoying their time on the water. How could they not?

At around 11:00PM I pull over to a sandy patch along the river for lunch. I run up on shore to discover I am sharing this space with a lone boxer turtle. He seems unimpressed and quickly, or as quickly as a turtle can, escapes into the tall grass. I reach into my dry bag to discover one of my PBJ sandwiches is soaked. Apparently I failed to secure the zip lock feature and the sandwich didn’t survive the recent drowning in the river. I’ll be rationing my limited food the rest of the way.

I can't help but be in awe of the Pere Marquette's stunning beauty.

I remember packing a Tupperware container of strawberry muffins my girlfriend baked for me. They’re packed in my rear hatch. They’re delicious. I had a couple last night for a dinner snack. I open up the container to discover I also failed to secure this as well I should have, and they too are now soaked. But, I find an extra plastic thermos of electrolyte supercharged Gatorade. This will be all that I have to drink, before I begin drinking straight from the river, as my other bottles got swept away when I took my spill.

After my disappointing break I continue on down the Pere Marquette. It continues to impress as with every turn in the river I am in awe of it’s natural beauty. Interrupted only by the occasional need to paddle over a log or reposition my kayak for another tricky turn.

At about 1:30PM I come across a couple more fishermen. These two are wading with the assist of a fishing float tube. As I pass the second fisherman I enter a tricky turn filled with fallen trees and river debris on both sides of the river. I get caught in the corner and have to work hard to avoid being pushed into the entanglement. A mistake here will certainly prove disastrous, possibly tragic. Able to stop my forward momentum, I find a calm spot in the river where I can pause and plot my course.

I see no possible way through. If I attempt this tricky passage I will certain to be caught sideways and find myself quickly in the snag of trees and branches. I back up a couple of times and consider my approach, but think better of it. I have no other choice. I must paddle back up stream then portage around.

As I back up, I find myself snagged on a tree. I didn’t notice the forked branch below the river’s surface. It has me in its grasp and won’t let go. The nearby fisherman sees my predicament and offers to help. With a gentle lift and push I am free to paddle and plan my detour across land.

The eventual portage around this bend is no more than 100 yards and am I able to drag my kayak thought the trees across the soft, leaf covered forest with relative ease.

This is not the view you what when you're paddling.

The remainder of the trip proves much easier. There are no more rapids to navigate and the river becomes wider and less winding. There is a stretch of a few miles that is popular for fishing and the weather is perfect. It’s hard to imagine more ideal paddling conditions and location.

I enter the first of several lowlands where the river splits up and goes off in several directions. There is no clear route, nor promise of a successful way through. I chose a narrow passage to my right that looks most promising. Then this too splits up into one, two, or more smaller passages. I am often having to push myself off the shallow sandy bottom to maintain my progress.

At 4:25PM I approach a low bridge that marks the end of this first lowland area. The bridge is named Indian Bridge. From a distance it appears too low to paddle underneath. As I get closer, I am almost certain it’s impossible to pass underneath. I look to either side of the river for an obvious portage, but I don’t see any sign of well worn path. There appears to be no easy way around.

I have two options. Attempt to paddle underneath and risk being knocked over, or take the time and do some heavy lifting and portage around for a more reasonable and safe passage.

This low bridge, Indian Bridge, poses a passage challenge.

I approach the bridge slowly and where I will have river’s current push me through. With all the water from the lowland collecting here, the river is deceivingly quick. As I get closer to the bridge I question my choice and am doubtful of a safe passage.

I place my paddle on top of my kayak, grab onto the side, then pull myself down as far as I can bend, which isn’t far and am certain won’t be far enough. With the front of my kayak well beneath the bridge and bent over as far as I can go, I wait for the moment of truth. I wonder, “Will I make it under or will I be knocked over for my second spill of the day?”

Luck is on my side today. The bottom of the bridge brushes the top of my hat. Thinking that the area immediately below the bridge may be a little higher I attempt to sit up for a little relieve from the discomfort in my abs. I learn there is no break in height and I get knocked back down. It’s a wide bridge, but I make it through without incident.

The area after Indian Bridge is remote and for the remainder of the day I have the Pere Marquette River all to myself.

As I paddle into the early evening I come across a number of deer. Because I must continue to navigate my way through a number of sharp turns and am jumping logs, my approach is not always stealth-like. I quit counting after 20 deer white tails wave good by with their white tails. Many are in small groups of four to six. Then there are the curious ones, or perhaps those that are simply indifferent, who stand by the riverbank and watch me paddle by.

I make it to the small town of Scottsville around 6:30PM and make small talk with a resident on the south side of the river. After I pass, he shouts out, telling me there is someone trying to stop me. All I can think of is the DNR, but I can’t imagine why.

Navigating over submerge logs or small debris fields is a recurring theme.

I look back and see the man running along the riverbank trying to catch my attention. He shout’s out with a high sense of urgency, “You do know this is the last stop before you arrive in Ludington?” I respond, “Yes, thank you!” Worried about my apparent lack of preparedness and the time of day, he tries convincing me to get off the river now. He adds, “It’s another four-and-a-half hours down river!"

I appreciate his concern. I wave him off and tell him, “I’m good. Thank you!"

I recalculate my estimated time of arrival based on his thinking. If it takes the average paddler four-and-a-half hours, I am thinking I will complete the journey between three and three-and-a-half hours. That gets me into Ludington around 9:45, which would make my journey a 15-hour day paddle. I double check my math to make sure.

My spirits are lifted as my original estimate was I would complete this paddle in 15 hours, plus or minus one hour. Despite my spill, having to make an unexpected portage, the difficulty of all the winding turns and the many obstacles, I will be finishing in length of time as originally planned. But, because I launched later than I originally wanted to, I will be certainly be paddling at night.

As the evening begins to set a calm overtakes the woods and river.

Paddling at night, in the dark, does not worry me too much. I am confident the remainder of the trip will be easy to navigate and I expect there will be very light boat traffic when I make it to Pere Marquette and Lake Michigan. Plus, there is something special about paddling at night, watching the sunset, and taking in its stillness, especially when paddling on our Great Lakes.

As I continue on I am greeted by a mix of incredible scenery and tons of wildlife.

The landscapes varies between lowland to steep riverbanks. The wildlife consists of all types; deer, blue herons, eagles, ducks, geese, turtles, and otters. In the distance I hear the magical sound of male grouse trying to attract the attention of a mate. It’s a spectacular experience.

At 8:12PM I pass under Highway 31 and the evening begins to darken. I am greeted by incredible displays of color and shapes of a changing sky. One stunning cloud formation looks like a pair of angels welcoming and pointing me in the right direction, while the setting orange sun slowly disappears behind the distant trees. The reflection of this scene in the calm river water makes it all the more remarkable.

Forty minutes later I pass under the old Highway 31 bridge and soon after enter into the lowlands preceding Pere Marquette Lake.

A spectacular cloud formation lifts my spirit.

Around one bend I startle a couple of baby raccoons. They quickly disappear in the tall thick marsh grass. I look back, hoping to see a glimpse of these masked bandits and spot one half way up and peering from behind a weather warn dead tree. It’s just too cute!

Shortly later I come across several sand cranes marching through the muddy marsh. Then there are several trumpeter swans on alert, but not concerned enough to take flight. I listen to their musical trumpeter chatter. It was truly magnificent.

Once on the open waters of Pere Marquette Lake, for the first time, I feel the excitement of knowing my journey is about to come to an end. It has been an unforgettable day and it’s hard to argue against this not being my most spectacular day trip on a river, ever.

To my right is an industrial park. I believe it belongs to Occidental Chemical Corp. I must credit them for their meticulous care of the grounds next to this precious lake and wildlife preserve.

My route takes me across the middle of the lake. With the wind so calm there is barely a ripple on the lake’s surface. In the distance off to my right, is the tell tale sign of the S.S. Badger, the last coal-burning ship on our Great Lakes.

The billowing black smoke from its single stack tells me they’re preparing for their cross Lake Michigan ferry season which officially begins in two days.

I have taken this same ship back across Lake Michigan each of the five times I have solo paddled the 50+ miles from Wisconsin to Michigan. Viewing this iconic and historic ship from the lake was something I had been looking forward to since I first began planning this trip. The spectacular view tonight did not disappoint.

The S.S. Badger preparing for its ferrying season, which begins in two days.

As I paddle by the S.S. Badger I am also looking forward to entering the Pere Marquette channel leading to Lake Michigan. On my right, the north side of the channel, is the U.S. Coast Guard Station. While I have not yet had to use their services, there have many times when I was certain I would need their help.

As expected, boat traffic is light in the channel tonight. There is just one fishing boat and a lone sailboat coming in from a day on the lake. As I enter the open area protected by the breakwater barriers on both sides, the water remains like glass. I take in the stunning view of the Ludington North Pierhead Lighthouse with its brightly lit green beacon on display on this side.

A lone sailboat making its way through the channel.

I am thrilled (prideful) to have paddled so far in a day and feel privileged to have had the scenic Pere Marquette nearly all to myself. Now, here I am on Lake Michigan, where I have solo paddled across five times. I am experiencing an eerie balance of joy, excitement, and a certain closeness to many; present and past. This closeness, seems to be unique feeling when I am alone on Lake Michigan. I hope to never forget it and soon repeat it.

But, I must focus on the moment and be mindful of the tricky turn I am about to take. I will momentarily have my kayak perilously positioned sideways against Lake Michigan’s rolling waves. This is the moment where I am at greatest risk of a spill.

I complete the turn and begin paddling NNE and parallel to the north breakwater wall. I am being pushed by a nice SSW wind making it nearly effortless to sustain momentum. I can’t help but think about how much easier it would be to paddle cross Lake Michigan if I had the benefit of a similar wind and lake conditions.

As I make my final turn, due east to Ludington’s Stearns Park, I remain alert to make sure I keep enough distance between me and the north breakwater pier. If I paddle too close, I risk being caught up in the rough waters and car size jagged rocks protecting the pier. A spill here will prove disastrous, especially in the much colder and deeper water, and with my being at near exhaustion.

At 9:42PM I land at Stearns Park. This 69.6 mile grand adventure takes me 15 hours to complete. With all its challenges, incredible beauty and abundant wildlife, this journey down the Pere Marquette River, and paddling Pere Marquette Lake to Lake Michigan, rates as my #1 river paddle.

A Possible Record Setting Paddle.

I am honored that the Ludington Daily News (LDN) featured my Pere Marquette River story the next day. It made the front page of their next day’s paper.

I was surprised to learn, that I may have been the first to have paddled the entire length of the Pere Marquette River the same day. Such a feat, the LDN sports editor asked the reporter to call Pere Marquette River Lodge to ask them. Kevin Brandin, fly shop attendant said, “As far as we know, nobody has done it in a day.”

For proof of my paddling accomplishment, I was asked to provide GPS locations, with times, of key stops along the way. I was able to provide a near hour-by-hour accounting of my entire trip.

How cool is that?!

Front page story written by Daily News staff writer Justin Cooper.

A Special Thanks.

With any grand adventure there is considerable planning and coordination required. Without their support, my paddling feats would not be possible. Then there are those you meet along the way that make the event all the more spectacular. I would like to thank the following: