Part the First (Getting Ready)

North Country Trail Diary
By Mike Dundas (2007)


I. March 19, 2007

Well! I've finally done it! That is, I've finally carved out a piece of my life to fulfill a long-time dream: to hike a major section of the North Country National Scenic Trail. So far, this has required much more grim determination than I had thought. Not only have I made myself unavailable for good friends' weddings and my job as the church choir's section leader for a month or more, but I have – by implication – cancelled out a number of opportunities that may have proved less consuming, equally pleasant and 'safer'. I'm even going to be away from my wife on our wedding anniversary! The problem with such a project is the number of chances one offers one's self to put it on hold until 'one more thing' or another is out of the way. In a life as rich and full as mine is already, the urge to temporize is as selfish as the urge to go adventuring.

I won't set foot on the trail until May 7, but the process of creating the rather large hole into which the adventure will fit has already consumed several full days. I have looked my best friend in the eye and said, "I really want to do this!" That may have been the shortest – and the most difficult – part. After all, her agreement to support me meant not only that I owe her a real debt of gratitude, but it also cancelled the only serious excuse for not continuing. Since this is my dream, not hers, it also means I will have to do without her company for the full time. I have informed several people who might have used my services that I would be unavailable for a time. This includes striking deals about services already tentatively assumed. I have spent most of three days laying out an itinerary I may not be able to maintain. I have called and e-mailed NCT members for help to find lodging and supplies. I have even made commitments to be at certain places at certain times by specific dates while on the trail! Most unnerving of all: I have begun telling everyone I know that I am going to do this thing. Now I'm well and truly stuck with it!

I'm sixty years old. I backpacked for the first time on Isle Royale with the Moose-and Wolves expedition (directed by Dr. Rolf Peterson of Michigan Technological University) when I was fifty. Over my years as a teacher, I switched every few years – from music, to theatre, to history, to elementary classroom, to middle-school math. I began reviewing the latter at age fifty and finished the second level of calculus by fifty-five. My objective then, as now, was to avoid a life of complacency, and – hopefully – to keep myself interesting as well. I have definitely avoided boredom! Not being boring remains a work in progress.

Having the time to make a journey like this is, in itself, a dream come true. In the middle of the career that feeds one's family it can be hard to believe in such multi-facetted freedom that allows the full arc of usefulness and self-indulgence. Since retiring from teaching in June of 2005 many hoped-for objectives on my life-list have been interfered with by others from that same list. This spring it is high time I began working on this one. It will need some years to complete.

The plan is to be dropped off at the southern border of Michigan near Waldron and travel toward the Mackinaw Bridge. Somewhere about the 10th of June, I hope to be in the vicinity of Kalkaska near the cottage of some down-state friends. At that point, I will need to get a ride back home to Southfield, a northern suburb of Detroit. I will have covered about 400 miles.

I am very concerned that I will not be able to keep to my itinerary. It often requires that I make fifteen or sixteen miles a day. In many cases, the only way to legally have a place to stay demands that kind of hike. Conditioning aside, I find the prospect somewhat daunting. Nonetheless, I am impressed by the title of 'thru-hiker' and determined to earn it. If I cannot achieve every goal, I am still intent on seeing as much of southern Michigan as I have time for, staying well – which includes staying flexible – and leaving the NCT on June 10 with the urge to come back to the project next spring.


March 24, 2007

I still don't have a place to stay in Homer. One other e-mail response about the area around Duck Lake is still pending as well. Otherwise, all lodging is arranged. I actually spent most of today working to decorate the edges of the Boundary Waters canoe trip my wife bought us for Christmas. After getting grubby and – perhaps – thoroughly mosquito/fly bitten, a trip to the Guthrie Theatre in Minneapolis should help. It's the musical 1776 and I'm looking forward to it partly because I played its irascible Scott in our community theatre just last spring.

I went for a four-mile walk this afternoon during which I worked on keeping the steps short and the turn-over crisp. Hopefully the technique will help keep the knees from going any further down the slippery slope. I can tell the iliotibial bands are loose after a winter indoors, but it's clear that the elliptical trainer downstairs has done its work well. I came back without a single twinge, though, and ready to go further tomorrow. The only problem concerns how hot my feet got by the time I got back. I'm going to have to experiment with different socks.

The weather is gorgeous! Neighborhood silver maples are already fully budded. The rain from this morning had given in to watery sun and the hum of activity was everywhere I went. Monday I should trek to the library and back with books and a lunch (over seven miles round trip).


March 27, 2007

Well, I didn't get to the library, but I did walk five miles (in nearly eighty-degrees!). I was tired enough afterward to realize that the seven-mile trip would have been too far, too soon. The not-quite-gimpy knee is still not-quite-gimpy, and the amount of soreness in the thighs and hip joints tells me that muscles should be building rather than breaking down. The bursa in the ball of one foot was sore on Sunday. After yesterday's longer walk, it's not really tender at all. So far, so good. What a lot of parts I have that could break down! Twenty years ago I wouldn't have given them a thought. Ten years ago I had begun to be aware that I was not indestructible. Now …!

I am reminded of an exchange from a great many years ago with one of my favorite professors at WMU. In my youthful arrogance I declared, "I'm 19, and I'm not afraid of anything!"

His response: "I'm forty-five and I'm afraid of everything!"

At the time I was prone to feel a bit sorry for the old boy. I understand much better now.

I'm already aware of the shrinking time before 'lift-off', and the need to push myself – carefully – to get in good condition before then. The first two days on the trail now look like full fifteen-milers. The two days built in for dawdling won't be usable until I get past Battle Creek.

The Duck-Lake question looks like being resolved, thanks to help from Dave Cornell. Welcome notes of encouragement are coming from several sources along with more offers to hike along for parts of the trip. The latter are especially welcome. The trail goes through wonderful places, but the people who use it, care for it, and live along it are a big part of the experience I'm expecting.


March 29, 2007

Six miles! I'm already getting tired of paved streets and sidewalks, not to mention walking in rather a circle. The wind was rather strong and unusually cold despite the full sun. The temperature was supposed to be fifty-three, but it wasn't that cozy. It felt like walking into a wall every time I faced east. As I passed by the house I stopped in and put on a ski cap. The skies, however, are just that color of blue that make even my tired feet twitch to be off somewhere. Tomorrow the temperature is supposed to be sixty-four and sunny, so it will be a perfect day to get out to a state park for a nice walk in the woods.

That spot on my right foot is acting up, but seems to be fading now that I'm off it. I hope a dirt hike will help that problem, too.

Yesterday I got a phone call about the Western Michigan Chapter's School House. A family group had called just after I had confirmed an overnight there, and they were anxious to stay there for three days. I was glad to relinquish it to them, but I was informed they had already offered to cook me dinner if it would help. Anyone who has spent a full day on the trail knows it would help! So it looks like I'll spend the night in my tent, but still be able to shower and enjoy some – for me by that time – extraordinary amenities. By then the company will likely be welcome as well.


March 30, 2007

Today Pam (my wife of thirty-eight years) and I walked the six-mile trail through the Island Lake State Recreation Area near my childhood home town of Brighton. Our eleven-year-old Lab, Scout, walked with us. No-one was unhappy to get back to the car! The mountain bikers were numerous. What a difference between the sleepy area in which I grew up and the yuppie Brighton of today, even in the state parks. Still, everybody was very friendly and considerate, and delighted with the sixty-five-degree sunny day. The trail was in great shape and the Huron River was barely not in flood.

I performed extremely minor surgery last night on a tiny corn in the ball of my right foot. Today's hike didn't cause any new problems. In fact, the bruise on my foot – if anything – got better as the day went on. Although this is only another six-mile day, but it is also twelve miles in two days. The hips are complaining just the right amount, and I am really encouraged. I should be back to take the nine-mile route next week. Before I leave for The Trail, I should hike the entire fourteen-mile pathway. After today that sounds a bit daunting.


March 31, 2007

Woo Hoo! Today Pam told me she will be singing with the Birmingham Musicale chorus at the state convention (Michigan Musicale). The date is May 18 and the place is good old Miller Auditorium at Western Michigan University in Kalamazoo. That means that, in the afternoon, she can easily drive up to Lowell where I should have arrived a bit earlier.

I called some old college friends who live just outside Grand Rapids to see if we might stop in, whereupon we got an invitation to spend the night with them. Pam was originally planning to just bring the bigger tent with her to Lowell. This is the very sort of thing for which I built in two extra days for dawdling. This will be delightful dawdling indeed.

I also called the home of my high-school choir director who has, for many years, lived near Big Rapids. The intention was to see if we could meet for dinner in White Cloud or some other nearby spot along the trail. Instead, I acquired a free 'hotel' room and a couple of square meals. Accommodations are looking better and better.


April 2, 2007

Yesterday afternoon I walked more than six miles in the neighborhood in the big boots. This morning I went back to Island Lake SRA to hike the nine-mile path. It turns out to be nearly nine and a half. That's fifteen miles in just under twenty-four hours. I did switch to running shoes to give certain hot spots a rest, and I did use liner socks for the first time this year.

The three-mile-per-hour pace I needed just to get warm this morning (at forty-five breezy degrees) soon dropped into a steadier pace as the sun showed itself a little more often. With a stop for lunch and a couple of short breathers the pace would have gotten me fifteen miles in about six hours.

Having gotten a bit tired Sunday, the nearly-gimpy knee started the day complaining, warmed up nicely and ended the day somewhat disgruntled. The good news involved the hips. They didn't even complain until after the first six miles and they reached a certain level of discomfort – along with the knee – and just stayed that way until I finished the hike. If it never gets worse, fifteen-mile days are already a real possibility. I will want to be in a bit better shape, though, as the residual effects of a six-or-seven-hour day will have me moving like an old man once I make camp.

The park itself was spooky quiet this morning. No bikers to be found. It's Monday, and a lot of the people we saw Friday were at work today. Still, by the time I left the trail at about 3:45 I had been overtaken by a runner and five bikers. The trail clearly gets a lot of maintenance from a local association that calls itself The Hellriders. They leave little tin logos nailed into the sawn ends of a few logs they leave near the trail. The maintenance that I wish some riders would perform involves picking up the debris – especially water bottles – that gets left beside the trail. From some of the acrobatics that appear needed to keep a bike on the trail, I'd not be surprised if the bottles just bounce loose from the holders. Many of them are full. I'll take a bag next time I go.

A few bluebirds were checking out the nest boxes at the edge of the re-claimed-gravel-pit field near a small fishing lake. I passed a guy there who had brought two adult beagles and two black and tan beagle pups for some exercise and probably training. The pups were on a double leash and well in hand, but they were so excited when they first got out of the car that – from a distance – it looked as if there were four of them.

Saucy chickadees were everywhere. Robins and cardinals were well represented along with the occasional nuthatch and titmouse. I was pleased to see – fleetingly – two pairs of wood ducks along the Huron River. They were under-represented here in my youth. One old scrub juniper had an entire family of tiny wood mice darting around under its exposed roots and collapsed branches. With all the sign I've seen of foxes and their furry victims, either Reynard has missed this little enclave, or it really is a surprisingly secure retreat. These trails are really quite fine. They cross or pass numerous habitats and manage to keep hikers unaware that they are often just over a hill from a group of homes or even light industry. During weekdays they offer a real sense of being lost to the world for a time.


April 4, 2007

Finally made that trip to the library! The fifteen-minute round trip by car took me about three hours. The trip there took me only an hour and ten minutes. I had already figured the distance to be three and a half miles. On the way home, trying to follow the city bike routes through an unfamiliar neighborhood, I went too far east. I had to backtrack to get to a bridge back over the freeway, so I probably walked over eight miles total. My lower back and hips were complaining, but the knee that had become worrisome is gradually recovering. I am developing a much shorter, quicker stride to keep from hyper-extending the joint; mostly a matter of learning what not to do.

Our typically Michigan weather has gone back into the deep-freeze. Last night I walked at mostly right angles to a strong westerly wind with snow swirling around me. Gusts were up to fifty miles an hour so it's not surprising that I found it easy to walk too far east on the way home. In the morning I wore just my shell to work. By the evening hike I was in my heavy hiking boots, insulated coat, with ski hat and gauntlet ski gloves. At no time was I too warm! Today and tomorrow we'll only get to the mid thirties.