Michigan's "Tunnel of Trees" Rte. 119

They call this a road but I think "lane" might be a more appropriate term. A ride down this lane brings you in close proximity to every type of tree that grows in NW Michigan. You also get treated to beautiful views of Lake Michigan, sand dunes, beaches and a very interesting paved trail with little other traffic, even on a Sunday.

This picture gives you an idea of how wide the lane is. Its 20 or so miles of narrow, unmarked track with lots of blind corners and hidden driveways. I'l post a couple more pictures later. I wish I would have snapped some of the hairpin (Yes Michiganders, I said hairpin) turns.

Thanks CJS for the recommendation of this ride.

I'm back with the rest of the story:

There’s a mostly invisible line that wraps around Earth, halfway between the equator and the North Pole. I crossed the 45th parallel twice yesterday while traveling to and from the top of Lower Michigan.

Sunday morning was crystal clear and pretty comfortable as far as temperature goes. It was about 4:00 a.m. when I decided to take a little spin on the Goldwing. I figured it would get warmer as daylight approached so I took off with just a t-shirt and armored jacket with liner. I did wear my chaps, which turned out to be a good call.

I started from the southeast part of the state, heading for the opposite corner. Since it was dark out and I couldn’t see anything anyway, I decided to stay on the freeway at least for a while. I headed more or less north. The moon was a sliver over my right shoulder, surrounded by bright stars. I knew the weather would hold since the bottom part of the moon was showing, holding in all the rain. (At least that was what my father told me when I was a little kid).

As a late sleeper, I had forgotten how long the darkness lingered this time of year. As the first hour eroded away, I was starting to wonder.

The traffic was light and I decided it would be a good time to rack up a few quick miles since I intended to meander around slowly later in the day. I noticed some weird signs in the construction zones and stopped for a picture. Back on the road, I set the cruise well inside my headlight range and just low enough to make a warning more likely than a ticket if I busted somebody’s radar.

When US-23 turned into I-75 Flint came into view and just as quickly faded into the darkness behind me. I did pass a tow truck with a lot of extra running lights on it. I flipped on by blue LEDs and he flashed all his lights in response. I imagined he was going to pick up the remains of somebody’s Saturday night.

As I passed Bay City (remember the Bay City Rollers?) the temp dropped from 61 to 52 in the space of about ¼ mile. I was already wearing all the clothes I brought so it was time to shiver for a while. The tension was causing pain in my shoulders and I had to concentrate on relaxing, if such a thing is possible. Saginaw Bay was a couple of miles off to my right and I knew the temperature might drop, but I hadn’t anticipated how much.

Eventually, the sun decided to slowly peel back one edge of the night sky. The change was visible to the east as the horizon let in the slightest hint of daylight. Then the sky turned a different shade almost every minute with purple, pink, and finally every shade of blue imaginable, then at last the bright yellow sun with its warmth which I anxiously anticipated.

Now, in the daylight, my anxiety about stray deer began to subside and I started thinking about sleep. About then, I crossed the mythical 45th parallel for the first time today. As soon as I saw the sign, I was hit with the aroma of fresh sawdust. There must be a lumber mill nearby. It reminded me of my youth in Alaska. I was raised on a homestead in the woods and my father was constantly building, repairing, or creating something made of wood. He left piles of wood scraps and sawdust in his wake and it usually fell to me to sweep it up. I hated sawdust at the time but now it seems like an old friend I haven’t seen for a while.

I stuck to the freeway all the way to Mackinaw City and rode directly down to the Straits below the fabled “Mighty Mac,” bridge to the Upper Peninsula. I took a few snapshots while a seagull took the opportunity to leave his calling card on my back seat. If that was an intentional shot, we could use him on our side.

That reminded me of an old joke about the bald guy who had a seagull take a dump on his head. His buddy asked “Do you want me to get you some toilet paper?” the bald guy replies “Nah, that seagull will be long gone before you could get back.”

I decided to let it air dry and remove it later. As it turned out, I didn’t have to. I forgot and laid my jacket on it when I stopped at the Big Boy for coffee and that pretty much took care of it.

Prior to stopping for coffee, I took a turn around the town and ran across a group of travelers on Goldwings getting ready to hit the road. They were from New York or New Jersey and were heading to the Badlands. Some of them were members of gl1800riders.com but I didn’t get their handles. I couldn’t quite make out what they said due to several hours of XM set at 20 on the way up.

I got general directions for Route 119 from the waitress at the little restaurant and headed west. I should have brought a map. I considered crossing the Mac but figured – been there, done that.
The directions took me into a snooty neighborhood with lots of signs saying “local traffic only.” I decided to follow my infallible instincts and was soon at the end of a dirt road somewhere along the east shore of Lake Michigan. The water puddles and greasy mud from the previous night’s rain made for an interesting turn-around.

After finding pavement again, I kept taking right turns until I found a sign that said 119. This is the road CJS mentioned a while back. He found it on his way back from the Midnight Ride to St. Ignore. His description of the area intrigued me. It turned out to be just as he had described.

I expected to see tons of bikes since it was a beautiful Sunday. Not a single one. I did see a bunch parked at a little inn called Legs which features genuine Polish fare. See http://www.legsinn.com/news_hunts1.html for some interesting background on this place.

I forgot to mention there were Corvettes all over the place in Mackinaw City. Must have been some kind of car show or swap meet. When I got there, Corvettes were heading out in all directions. I came across a blue one while traveling south on 119 and we swapped positions several times, as I stopped often to take pictures.

I don’t know if there is an official start to 119 but if there is, it is probably Cross Village. As soon as you leave town, the road narrows and trees form a canopy over miles of winding road. I use the term road loosely. The trail is wider than most bike paths, but not much. Large and small trees line both sides of the lane, some dangerously close to the pavement. There is no paint on the centerline, or shoulders. Approaching cars slow and pull to the right. I doubt if some portions of the road are wider than 18 feet.

All along the way, you are treated to views of the deep blue Lake Michigan waters. Where the water is shallow, a green color takes over. The road winds in and out along bluffs, maybe 100 feet above the water line. Most of the way is buffered from the cliff by an assortment of trees. There are many varieties of firs as well as birch, poplar, willow, various oaks, maples and others too numerous to mention. There are many places to pull onto the grass unless you’re in a car. In a car, your best bet is to stop along one of the short straight-aways for photos.

When riding the trail, watch for debris on the corners. Just when you think you have the rhythm figured out, a tight corner appears that is covered in sand. The whole area is sand just beneath a thin layer of topsoil. The other surprise is the couple of creeks you encounter. With the tunnel effect and the constant turns, it’s hard to see very far ahead. Entering one left-hander, I found a tighter than anticipated rising, then falling turn. Of course the apex contained an oncoming nine passenger van. The road suddenly dropped away to the bottom of a little draw with a hairpin turn at the bottom and a series of quick twists up the other side.

The encounter with the van was exciting, given the width of the road and fact that a hard turning Goldwing takes up a lot of width already. I’d estimate my windshield and left grip were well within two feet of the van. At the time it felt like two inches. I got a chance to practice changing my line, mid-turn. The divot I took out of the macadam was rivaled by the one left in the seat. Back to acting my age I guess.

The road is fun to ride but should be considered a scenic ride as opposed to “spirited.” Too many driveways, bicycles, and blind corners to get carried away.

Once you think you have seen all the beautiful vistas you can stand, you arrive at Harbor Springs with its stately old houses, church steeples and its port, filled with sailboats and other yachts.

A little farther south, you pass through Petosky with its lakefront park and more grand old houses. Route 119 is gone and a modern but still scenic stretch of road leads south past countless little stands where locals sell cherries and all manner of fresh produce. Charlevoix, Eastport, and Elk Rapids all display attractive roadside conveniences designed to separate the traveler from his funds. I managed the trip without purchasing a single piece of driftwood.

The scenic drive ended in Traverse City and it was time to slog back through oceans of corn and soy bean fields. I was back in the Michigan I know. I angled southeast on 115 for a while, then cut south. I was tempted to stop at the casino in Mt. Pleasant, but soldiered on. I made good time all the way to Lansing, in spite of heavy traffic. I-96 was a piece of cake until everything came to a stop. A couple of miles at a crawl and I got to look at a SUV and its upside down trailer in a ditch. Nothing obstructing anything on the roadway, but my fellow travelers couldn’t bear to miss the free show. Back under way, I took a shortcut through Pinckney and Hell and snuck back into the garage before 5:00 pm with an extra 837 miles on the clock.

I sure wish Route 119 was a little closer. Don’t miss it if you’re ever in the neighborhood.