Warm Michigan Nights; or, Lost at Nordhouse Dunes

Unless you count the wildlife, I was always alone out there.

At first I kept staying in more civilized areas, I slept in a tent next to my car.

A mom came by to see what the hell I was up to, is this what you do she asked?

I told her babies, that they need to listen to narrated books about philosophy.

I don’t know what she expected me to say, I am not lost, I suppose.

Then I found a huge campsite system, on the other side of the dunes.

A couple told me they’ve been coming up there, since the 60s or something – amazing.

I told an old lady chewing on a maple leaf to see if it is sweet, that it is actually poison ivy.

As she opened her mouth to let the leaf goo out, her mom appreciated me being there, causing trouble.

The state park has hike-in sites, you have to walk with a back-pack on.

A couple with a young baby showed up, the poor woman did not want to be there.

I don’t know what that guy was thinking, nature has to call to you, you can’t just drag someone out there.

I threw a lot of bread into their camp site, for the raccoons to teach him a lesson, the heck with him.

And then, when I caused all the trouble I could possibly cause, I put on my backpack and set off for the Nordhouse Dunes.

It is right up there with Baltic Sea, Far Rockaway Beach, and the Veterans Beach I slept at in Florida Keys.

But you know how it is, the first time in a wilderness of any size, I ended up under a young tree hiding from loneliness and rain.

Perhaps that was the loneliest I’ve ever been, good thing I didn’t know about the 2 inch spiders that blend with the sand.

They don’t bite, they just scare, and easily, you, me, the bears, the raccoons! don’t even try to go to the beach.

But, unless you are examining the sand up close, and one moves their huge fat leg, you won’t see them.

And during the day, they won’t even bother you, if you keep close to the seagulls, so bring some birdseed, or trash.

And yeah to this day I can hear the poop clap that a sick old albatross made, into a young child hair, after I fed it trailmix, it was too big to call it a dropping.

From what I noticed from afar, the mother was happy that the child got taught, she probably bothered her all morning to come out to feed the damn birds.

I feel so horrible about that, I scarcely fed a bird since.

To this day, though, I love seagulls, they recently flew in to the gym parking lot, and it has been a real joy to hear them.

It boggles my mind, why everyone isn’t keeping them as pets, seagulls are the kittens of the sea.

You know it is really true that the size of a wilderness doesn’t compute, all wilderness in the world is connected, and it all calls to you once you feel it.

People who live out there and see Nordhouse Dunes as a beach, may not be able to understand it as an endless infinity of nature.

They go home, when they are done, but once you get bitten by the wild things, you will never be from the city ever again.

You become part of the wild, uncivilized.

Each time the air changes, when a new season comes, you hear it, you hear the call of the wild.

You never cease being aware of the snowy rocky mountain passes, or the endless woods in Canada.

You can feel and maybe hear, the pitter-patter of footsteps on the AT.

Feel the drop in the soul of every Triple Crowner that reaches the Northern Terminus of the Continental Divide Trail.

Sometimes, you cry with them, once you make it to the Bob Marshall Wilderness all that is left are the stars.