Discovering secrets in the Empire Bluffs

By Adam Dean
Sun contributor
The location in which you choose to live your life defines a great deal about why you live it. Some people dedicate their lives to their corporate jobs and often live in bustling cities full of the “American dream” and asphalt jungles. Some people dedicate their lives to helping others and move from place to place wherever help is needed. Then there are people like me. We live for the outdoors, for the feeling of sand between our toes and the sun on our skin. We choose paths over roads, walking over driving, and trees instead of skyscrapers. Location lies much deeper still. It says things about your inner-most self. I am a quiet person except when I am passionate about something. My love for my home has grown so strong that I have decided to spend my life pursuing ways to help conserve and preserve Leelanau County. The location which I love and where I grew up inspired and taught me so much that a point came while laying on my magnificent bluff, that I knew I must help protect my home.
Photo by Peter Richards

There is a private, hidden paradise unknown to many people in the town where I grew up in. It’s located deep past a rich forest filled with coniferous and deciduous alike, on a steep and sandy slope. This place is not easy accessible, and if not for my constant travels forming a trail, most people would never find it even after being lead there. At the end of the trail is the perfect place to lay secluded in the sun and feel no direct imprint of humans. You can see the most elaborate sunsets on a horizon so surreal you may just be able to feel it with your eyes closed. This paradise has taught me much through my life. At fourteen years of age, I first found my bluff. It is in no sense mine other than the time we have shared and grown together. It still feels very much mine to me though. I have spent countless nights staring at the constellations, searching for shooting stars, and watching the cycles of the moon while laying on the bluff. The constant rhythm of Lake Michigan waves are always very present and so steady the sound gets lost in the starlit sky. The bluff changes. It grows, shrinks, twists, morphs, and always is itself. I try to learn to follow the lead of the bluff, twisting and growing into a sufficient individual. The bluff knows itself much more than I do.
To get to this northern Michigan paradise of sorts you must earn it. While anybody could walk the first half of the trail that is part of the National Park, the second half of the trail is not evident to most people. Many friends have traveled with me to this wonderful place, for I don’t believe I am the only one meant to enjoy such a perfect destination. It is not my land as it is not any one person’s land. Human beings are just a blink of an eye in the life of mighty Planet Earth, yet we set up fences and sell deeds giving rights to her land. The planet has outlived ice ages, dinosaurs, meteors, volcanoes, and earthquakes. It will be here when we are gone too.
The beginning of the path that leads to my private paradise is like many other paths in Michigan. It is a ten-foot wide gravel pathway with small wooden markers. Along the path support beams are buried to help prevent trail erosion. The beginning of the path leads up a steep incline with raspberry bushes lining both sides. Careful not to be too tempted because if you dig too deep for the delicious red berries you will find another red plant, this one is not your friend though. Poison ivy, with its three-leaf clusters, also lines the path warning walkers to stay on course. The red leaves are brightest in the Spring time, but can be seen in the center of the leaves almost year-round. Somehow I am immune to the oil of poison ivy because I have still never had any rashes despite many encounters. Once the incline is behind you, the path becomes very elaborate. Massive oaks, maples, and Elm trees are set up sporadically along a vast canyon top like guards watching over a fortress. The moonlight casts shadows on the path that can lead an imaginative mind wandering. Three sweeping turns in the path help the down-slope seem more gradual until the final straightaway. There is an amazing lookout on the National Park path that is photo-worthy on even the grayest and dullest of days. When you leave the lookout, you must walk up another steep and steady hillside with formed gravel stairs. This is the last part of the path before you reach the trail of which I created.
The first time I took the trail, it wasn’t a trail at all. I wanted to find a direct line to Lake Michigan from the top of the hill on the National Park path. In doing so I found my favorite place in the entire county, of which I would spend numerous nights after work with friends, lovers, or alone. It was an accidental meeting of which I don’t think there is any coincidence. We were meant to meet, the bluff and I. There is a mutual respect and admiration that we share. I know I can come with any problem and the bluff with be there. Its sandy slope forms perfect seats, molding to my body. We become intertwined with one another, and for awhile I am not present in my normal life. The tribulations of the human world seem so small and meaningless on such a magnificent bluff. Looking out over such a powerful lake and such never ending hills shows to scale how small I really am in the scheme of the world. When I am on the bluff I am not making any money. I am not working at a job or talking on a phone. I am in no way connected to the people and places in my life aside from the bluff, and yet life goes on. The clouds still move, and rain still falls. The waves still crash on the beach with the wind, and the coyotes still stalk the white-tailed deer, howling at the moon and at their hunger. The cherry trees continue to grow and the cherry blossoms bloom with such beauty. Yes, I am very small in this world, yet very much a part of it.
The trail begins atop a narrow ridge that overlooks a gigantic hillside known as the Bluffs. It includes trees of many different shapes, colors, sizes, and species. You can almost see the entire town from the start of the trail, and it gives you a perfect chance to say goodbye to everything human for awhile. As you keep on, you come down a lazy slope that wouldn’t be very difficult if not for the fallen trees. More trees fall every year and the last time I walked the trail there was seven trees that had fallen. The first time I walked the trail there was only two. As you keep down the trail you get to a hilltop. It is not much of a hilltop, rather the top of one side of a valley. Over the years the trail has gotten worn down to a layer of loose sand that makes this part very difficult at night. Once you get down the hill covered in Mother Nature’s best booby-traps of rocks, roots, and drop-offs, you have to ascend the wall on the other side of the “valley”. In the apex of the valley there is only maybe ten to fifteen feet between the hills/walls that create it. Not much of a valley at all if you ask me. The climb out is much less sandy then the descent and is covered in small trees that give a helping hand with their branches. Poison ivy is again waiting to brush ankles or fallen knees.
When you do finally get to the top of the valley hill there is a site that you are never quite ready for no matter how many times you’ve seen it. Spread across your view is an amazing assortment of hills, cliffs, trees, beaches, bluffs, clouds, Lake Michigan, and every other wonder the landscape has to offer. You can again see the entire town and how small it really is in this amazing landscape. The trail leads on through some bushes and short grass into what looks like a field. There are many bushes at least ten feet tall and some small trees scattered through the field. They look like chess pieces strategically placed with purpose. One must be careful when walking through this area because there are many prickly and thorny bushes and plenty of crab-grass to ruin delicate feet. It took a couple years for me to be able to walk the trail barefoot, and this was always the most dangerous place. After winding around some of the bushes and trees, the trail goes on to another cliff ledge. The top of the ledge is sandy and leads down a narrow path cluttered with roots and depressions. Many people have tripped down this narrow area and ended up with a face full of sand. The ledge continues and looks down a six-hundred foot slope of sand, rocks, and crab-grass. Some pathetic Elm trees and scraggly bushes also cover the cliff. The trail along the ledge is very narrow and curves along the top through tree branches and bushes. One wrong step could send you plummeting to a very catastrophic crash with injuries in the near-future.
At the end of the ledge is the loading zone as we call it. It is a perfect transition from the trail to the bluff. You must jump down a ten-foot drop from the trail into the sand at the top of the bluff. There are roots lining the walls daring you to get your foot tangled. Only a few select people have in fact tripped jumping down, proving the roots more effective at finding nutrients on this sandy slope than at tripping hikers. If you are wearing shoes, this is where you absolutely must take them off or else they will end up full of sand. The bluff, as we call it, is a five-hundred foot sand dune. At the top of the dune there are some trees, plenty of grass, and many sand mounds. The trail down the bluff varies for everybody, but the start of the trail is always narrow and windy. The top of the bluff is where most time is spent. Sitting and listening to the chickadees and finches sing and the waves crashing, hearing the wind blowing through trees and bushes, and the blowing sand make it a perfect place to disconnect from society and connect to something much more internal. You can actually feel the quiet calm if you close your eyes. The noises you hear feel like they belong, and don’t even qualify as noise really, but peaceful, natural music. The crisp aroma of Lake Michigan and the many scents in the woods such as leaks and flowers are always present and always rich. Even without sight, your other senses would help you to realize this place is special. It has its own feeling of righteousness that is such a sweet surrender.
The trail down the bluff takes you first through a narrow path with six foot sand mounds on both sides. It leads you through many cliffs, perfect for jumping off while running down the playful bluff. One spill will send you rolling through the sand, but no worries. Continue running straight on through into Lake Michigan and you can easily wash off that sand as well as cool yourself on a scorching summer day.
The trail changes a little every winter with the powerful winds and storms that blow over Lake Michigan. I love to find how the top of the bluff has changed every winter. It reminds me that nothing is permanent. Mother Nature will prevail in the end. It reminds me that we all must change in order to grow. To survive we must prevail through whatever challenges we face. The bluff is my home, and we are very much alike. It’s not always easy to see the true qualities in my hometown or myself at first glance. On the outside things look pretty normal. The bluff is remote. We are both quiet and yet strong willed. The bluff will keep fighting for itself, and I will never stop fighting for the bluff. It has changed me as I have grown into who I am today. I have learned much about how to listen, how to think, and how to relax. The bluff is very much a part of me now. I take it wherever I go and will always continue to fight for myself, my thoughts, and my bluff.