COVER PHOTO: Guided hike led on a sunny afternoon through the woods at Ludington State Park. Photo courtesy of Alan Wernette, Park Interpreter.
By Kevin Howell
Hiking the woods on a snowy winter day has long been a pleasant experience for me. The wind soughing through the pines, quiet stirrings of critters among the trees, and occasional glimpses of standing-still deer near a creek always make the chilly trek worth the endeavor.
I’ve never tried snowshoe hiking, though. So, after hearing about hikes at Ludington State Park, with free use of snowshoes, I thought I’d try it. But it was a guided group hike, and I don’t do group things.
On this January Saturday, the park had fresh snow ⸺ more than a foot. On the drive along the lakeshore, the wind was whipping around 30 mph, blowing snow off the dunes and trying to fill in the recently plowed highway and doing a fair job of it.
I was doubting my choice of days.
I also wondered if my seven-decades-old wearing-down body was up to the task. My feet, and other sensitive body parts, tend to get colder easier these days.
More people were at the park, considering the blustery cold wind, than I expected. About 20 of us gathered at the meeting place, a “warming” shelter that wasn’t warm but more of an out-of-the-wind shelter.
At about 1 p.m., the park interpreter and tour guide Alan Wernette appeared and began his pre-hike presentation. Wernette commended the Friends of Ludington State Park for supplying 60 pairs of snowshoes, then demonstrated several styles. I didn’t know there was more than one. There’s a short shoe, the Bear Paw, for running trap lines in brushy terrain. There’s a longer Michigan snowshoe with a pointy front that keeps a truer track, and there’s the Ojibwe with pointy toe and heel ends.
Around the 20-minute mark of the scheduled 1.5-hour hike, we finally headed out to the shoe shed, in the wind, to grab a pair of snowshoes and attempt to put our feet into them. Taking hands out of sort-of warm gloves, I worked at putting my snow boot into position and pulling cold stiff laces tight, which I managed to do before my fingers snapped off in the wind.
Okay, I’m ready. Snowshoes feel comfortable enough, but now it’s a waiting game for the others to follow suit. It was another reminder that I am not well-suited to group happenings and the waiting-for-everyone-else thing. It’s finally time to try hiking … wait, our guide broke a lace binding and must go back for another shoe.
Onward. Walking in the shoes worked, once I readjusted my stride to accommodate the over-sized shoe ⸺ kind of like the stride of an Old West cowboy who has been in the saddle too long, but easy enough to get accustomed to, and it did make getting through the new snow much easier.
We made it about 30 yards and stopped. After a talk about the first campground, a small cabin to rent, and other bits about the campgrounds in general, we moved another 30 yards and … stopped again.
“We’ll just walk a little and stop and talk a little,” our guide said.
After barely getting started, my feet were getting cold from standing still too much.
We moved a bit off trail and headed into the trees. I enjoyed gliding along, but there was just too much stopping and standing for my body to generate heat to reach my toes, despite wearing flannel-lined jeans, snow boots, three layers on top ⸺ including an insulated long sleeve undershirt, a flannel shirt and fleece hoodie ⸺ and a water-resistant hooded outer jacket.
I just wanted to try the shoes and traipse a little through the woods while listening to the quiet, but that wasn’t happening with so many people along. Despite a well-knowledgeable guide like Wernette leading the way, it was not what I had in mind. So, I broke off my trial run early, turned in my shoes and headed to a warm truck, where my navigator Jean sat reading a book awaiting my expected return.
Although this type of adventure didn’t suit me, I could see the enjoyment of the others and the state park is a great place to visit, no matter the mode of transportation.
So, I’m not giving up on snowshoeing. I’m looking for a pair to rent or buy so I can try it again on my own, at my own pace because, really, I do enjoy a good hike through silent woods in winter.
For more information on snowshoe hikes at Ludington State Park go to Friends of Ludington State Park’s Facebook page or friendsofludingtonstatepark.org.
Guided snowshoe hikes take place at 1 p.m., certain Saturdays in January and February. Lantern-lit hikes begin at 6 p.m. on specific dates and are followed by bonfires at the Amphitheater (with warm beverages) and Warming Shelter. Snowshoes are available to borrow.
Orchard Beach State Park in Manistee also offers lantern-lit hikes, followed by stargazing with NASA Solar System Ambassador Brooke Edwards and her telescope, when skies are clear. Hikers must provide their own equipment. For more information, check out the Friends of Orchard Beach State Park Facebook page.
Kevin Howell is a Mason County freelance writer. He loves the Michigan woods, lakes, people and, especially, Michigan craft beers – not necessarily in that order!
