My husband, Andy, and I left downtown Detroit on August 1st, 2024, bike-bound for northern Michigan. We’d spent months preparing for our journey — our plan to bike hundreds of miles in search of adventure, honing our skills as bikepackers. Gear strategically strapped to bike frames, maps studied & printed, food dehydrated & portioned, campsites reserved, bunnysitter hired, PTO approved, call-to-action reviewed — our mental checklist was marked until we rolled our bikes out the back door. Outside, heat enveloped us, slowed our hearts as they tried to beat on ahead. Breath pulled us down to street level, down from wherever our imagination had taken us, and, after a few last minute adjustments, we were off! … to the bike shop down the street for another spare tube… then we were on the trail, northbound. 

 

Our plan was to follow the Iron Belle Trail (IBT) from Detroit to Mackinaw City, then continue southwest to Wilderness State Park. Following the trail would prove to be one of our biggest hurdles. Further from home, we started to get flustered. Once we left the city and passed that line of familiarity, the route wasn’t so obvious. You won’t be able to print the IBT maps and rely on them to navigate it. The maps aren’t detailed enough to see street names. Knowing where a particular bike path starts isn’t as clear in-person as it is online. Not seeing a bike path across a busy 6-lane highway added 5 miles to our first day. And more would pile on as pedestrian pathways criss-crossed each other, disorienting even a savvy map user.

 

Our purpose for this ride was (and is) to raise awareness about the threat that Enbridge’s Line 5 oil pipeline poses to our beloved Great Lakes. The largest freshwater system in the world is in danger of being contaminated by oil leaking from an expired pipeline, running through tribal territory and under the Straits of Mackinac. Decommissioning the pipeline has been argued as the best solution by engineers, economists, politicians, and activists for decades. Even our own Governor ordered Enbridge to cease operations. Yet the Canadian oil company continues to pump fossil fuels through the Great Lakes, arguing it’s their right to do so and that it’s for our good that they do, fueling that antiquated claim of profit over planet (and by that logic: people need profit more than the planet…) : / 

 

Our goal was to more fully connect to the water that we call home, to travel across the state using only food as fuel, and talk with fellow Michiganders about water and why it’s worth protecting. Each night we slept under different trees, each day we passed different lakes, rivers, and streams, our journey taking us to two of the Great Lakes, to sources of life-giving water that have seen ill effects from industrialization. Bodies of water can be healed and kept from further harm. Their veins spread beneath us, permeating the soil. We call water home wherever we live. She is the river that guided us east, the creek we followed north, the bay that pushed us west, the shore that pulled us south — each in collaboration and connection with the other. Below I’ll briefly recount our journey. I’ll often refer to water in the feminine, giving her personhood. 

 

Day 1, Detroit River to Conner Creek to Clinton River to Paint Creek — hot and full of cars. Even in a designated bike lane, some drivers felt the need to honk or shout at us. Navigational issues caused delays. Heavy showers sent us dashing for cover under a park shelter. We arrived at our first destination after dark — Oakland Hills Farm & Garden, a farmhouse filled with the spirit of activism, community, and sustainability. We were greeted by the smell of umami, a rich aroma lingering above the pot of brown rice our host, Alex, cooked for us. He led us on a nighttime tour of the grounds, foraging herbs and greens for dinner. By daylight, the plants and good company were even harder to leave — fields of lavender, bushes of herbs and tall stalks of “wasabi” greens — herb-topped oats mixed with conversations about travel, futures, and hopes. With mostly dry gear and a bag full of greens, we bid farewell to Alex and continued our journey. 

 

Day 2, many small lakes, Kearsley Creek to Thread Creek — more navigational issues and car horns. We rode all afternoon and into the night, arriving late at an Airbnb in Flint. Our host Toi and her husband, Steven, kindly welcomed us into their home, showed us around as Bob Marley played in the background. We spread our belongings across the upstairs suite and stood on the balcony, relishing the breeze. By morning, Toi and Steven felt like close friends. We stayed for hours sharing stories. Steven turned out to be a tattoo artist, etching his artwork into our skin — a bunny on my left arm, a hand-drawn sprig of lavender on Andy’s. Toi offered her delicious dairy-free ice cream and gifted me a copy of her book, Personal Lessons & Their Naked Truth. Words within were cherished the entire trip, though I never had the time to read it! Her book currently sits by my bedside, waiting to be savored.  

 

Day 3, Flint River to Cass River to Saginaw River — ready for less car traffic. We missed a few turns leaving Flint and made up for it by cutting north along M-54. Following major roads is more direct than trying to find each bike route of the IBT. And it’s entirely legal to ride on the road, as long as you’re as far to the side as practical. Yet we still got hollered at by a few motorists. By night, we were at our cousin Bo’s and her husband Cameron's place, watching the Olympics after pitching a tent in their backyard. It was our Aunt Lori’s birthday, so celebrations were had as we exchanged adventure stories and eagerly stowed away tips from Cameron, a DNR wildlife biologist. Morning had us splashing water with their adorable toddler, Aster, and bouncing newborn, Fisher, before packing up and waving goodbye.

 

Day 4, Saginaw River to Saginaw Bay — smooth pedaling. There’s a bike trail that runs almost directly from Saginaw to Bay City. We followed it along the Saginaw River, circled Ojibwe Island, rode under the Zilwaukee Bridge and through Crow Island State Game Area, where migratory birds that Cameron told us about were wading in the water — herons, cormorants, egrets. The bike trail continued along the river to Bay City. Once there, we veered west to the state park where we camped and stayed an extra day, working remotely from the local library on Day 5. Dreams of washing the heat away in the bay fizzled as we stood at the shore that evening, the water dense with an algae bloom, not suitable for swimming. 

 

Day 6, Saginaw Bay, Pine & Rifle River mouths— the rail trail that didn’t exist. More issues with the IBT map. A proposed route along a railroad led us searching for an accessible path, eventually taking the road. Trying to find the rail trail seen on our map (which probably existed at one point) led us onto private property where a sign was posted that read “Trespassers will be prosecuted. OR SHOT!” We bailed on that route and continued our day on back roads. We arrived at our destination after dark again, a campground at Point Au Gres. We stayed there and worked remotely on Day 7. Andy roused me awake for a sunrise that rivaled every sunset from the west. Later, our neighbors brought us firewood as a welcome gift. 

 

Day 8, Au Gres River to Tawas Bay — easiest ride yet! We rode along US-23 north using the shoulder of the highway until a bike path appeared and swept us into Tawas City. We had most of the day to swim in Lake Huron, stock up on supplies, and meet the local mobile bike mechanic. We treated ourselves to vegan pizza and beer, caught some music at the park, and enjoyed our most luxurious sleeping arrangement at the newly renovated motel we checked into that afternoon. We fell asleep to Olympic cycling after a long soak in our private jacuzzi, drifting into visions of the rest of our journey. 

 

Day 9, Lake Huron & Au Sable River — fastest ride yet! We needed to get to Harrisville before the post office closed to collect our next resupply package. We followed US-23 north, crossing the Au Sable River midday. There at her banks, we learned of the world’s largest canoe race, and ate lunch at the finish line. A local cyclist, seasoned by years of riding, stopped to study our bikes and hear about our travels. He reminded us that we were at the point where the IBT turned west, though we had plans to continue north, and spend more time on the shores of Lake Huron. Our next destination at Harrisville State Park was worth the detour! We had all evening to partake in its beauty. After the campground lay quiet, we rode to the beach and laid in the sand, gazing at stars and counting the Perseids.

 

Day 10, Pine River tributaries, Au Sable River, & Alcona Dam Pond — a thrilling ride! We followed M-72 west over tall, rippling hills. Andy got a flat, which he fixed in a farmer’s ditch.  We reached the Huron National Forest that afternoon. Light cold rain was refreshing, though strong winds were exhausting. With elevation gains, at times it felt we were riding in place. We stopped to marvel at a double rainbow, dipping south to rejoin the Au Sable River at Alcona Dam Pond. More rain that night played rhythms for a soloing loon — music which accompanied me into dreams. 

 

Day 11, Au Sable River to Jones Lake — our longest, most tiring ride. West along the Au Sable River and north following branches of her. We’d gone further south than we had planned the day before, so extra miles were packed in to make up for it. More hills and wind, though the clouds had parted. By nightfall, we heard what sounded like fireworks in the distance. As we rode west, the bangs got louder and deeper. We were near Camp Grayling, hearing military explosives — Operation “Northern Strike”. When we finally made it to camp at Jones Lake, the blasts were shaking our tent, keeping us awake even with plugs shoved into our ears. 

 

Day 12, East Branch Au Sable River to Otsego Lake — our roughest day yet. I had to work remotely. Lack of cell signal and the persistence of military operations sent us pedaling on a day meant for rest. I worked from a small township hall we passed. Andy continued north to Otsego Lake, where he secured our next campsite and collected our last resupply package from the Waters PO. As the sun set that evening, we sat together on the shores of the lake, watching a heron hunt fish as a military helicopter batted its wings overhead.  

 

Day 13, Otsego Lake to Mossback Creek, Club Stream to Sturgeon River — a rail trail wonder. I started the day working remotely, then we followed the North Central State Trail (NCST), an old railway turned bike path, from Otsego Lake to Wolverine. We camped within earshot of the Sturgeon River at Haakwood State Forest Campground. Splashing cold river water on my face after a sweaty day is always rewarding. The Sturgeon River was no exception. Standing next to her, surrounded by her, we finally felt alone with the Earth — no more traffic, factories and big cities, no more packed campgrounds, RV generators or military operations. We were stewards of a small plot of land, in the woods, by a healthy river, for a dozen hours. 

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