Duck Lake

I never looked forward to something so much in my life. Going up to the cabin was my absolute favorite thing in the whole wide world. The cabin sits on Duck Lake just outside of Traverse City.  My aunt and uncle own it and unfortunately we have become too busy and have not been able to go up there in years. That is why this past summer when we were camping in Traverse City and my parents told me that we were going to stop by for the day, I was ecstatic.  Driving down the road I felt my stomach tense up. It was like I was nine years old again, and we were finally arriving after a four hour car ride.  Getting out of the car it was Nostalgic. My sisters and I instantly leapt from the car and ran straight to the dock like we did every time we first arrived. The sound of the water lightly lapping onto the rocks was soothing. We ran out onto the dock with load thuds as our feet hit the wooden boards. The lake looked just the same. Just as inviting as it always had. The water was still clear right down to the bottom.  I kicked my flip flops off, plopped down, threw my legs over the edge of the dock, and dipped my feet into the water. I sat back and closed my eyes.

 This lake holds so many of my fondest childhood memories. I wanted to cry it was so overwhelming. It is where I learned to fish. Where I caught a large mouth red eyed bass and talked about it for days. Where I learned to love being pulled on a tube and get tossed around by the waves. Where I learned how to steer the paddle boat. To go left you push the knob right and to go right you push it left. Where me and my sisters spent hours on the paddleboat going in circles between our dock and the neighbors. This is the lake that I learned to kayak, and canoe on. Where my dad let us kids steer the boat around the lake for a little bit. Where no matter how irrational I knew it was, I always feared there was a shark lurking. Where we collected clam shells and zebra mussels. Where me and my sisters brought soap and shampoo in the lake and took lake baths.  This is a lake that holds a special place in my heart. I opened my eyes and looked around. I remembered the water snake that lived right by the neighbors dock and I wondered if he was still around…

"Snap"

We took the lead, Laura and I, strutting our way into the first trail the Blandford Nature Center had to offer. We moved briskly when we saw the crowd of our classmates following. It is easier to enjoy nature when you don’t have a bunch of people yacking right behind you. We set out to complete the four most appealing trails in the time we had.  This first trail was called, the Wild Life trail. A twisting and turning bridge guided us through displays of wildlife including hawks, owls, and bob cats. Laura and I gawked at each animal snapped a few pictures and then hastily moved along as the crowd was approaching fast. Lucky for us the second trail was near. We began the walk down the, West loop. It was quiet now, we had lost the crowd. This trail was filled with streams, so there was always a perfectly placed bridge we could walk over. We took it all in, the sound of a startled chipmunk who scurried over fallen leaves and disappeared into the woods. The sound of the birds chirping, and the streams flowing. Every now and then the peace was interrupted when Laura tripped over a few tree roots that had risen out of the ground. We walked on, all the way snapping pictures.  We must have walked over four or five bridges when we came to a staircase. The staircase led us to our next trail.

This third trail was called Helen Stiles, It was the shortest trail, but the one we spent the most time in. As we descended down the path we came to a frog pond. We were like kids in a candy shop. I could not believe the amount of frogs that were living in the pond. We got down on our bellies so we could get a closer look.  As we lowered ourselves we could hear the plop of frogs who were startled and retreated into the water. We could now see all the frogs in all of their hiding places. Each frog was unique in size and coloring. Two little eyes and a nose popped out of the water and stared at me. We snapped picture after picture wishing our cameras could capture what we were seeing. After a good amount of time we figured we better move on before we run out of time. We walked until we came across our final trail. The Blue Heron trail. We had picked this trail because the map showed it had water. We wanted to go where water was. We started down the trail.  The trees bowed over the trail and made it look like we were walking through a tunnel. More pictures were snapped. It wasn’t long when we came across and observational building. We hurried up the stairs as fast as we could and looked over. There was a dock that lead you out into the middle of a marsh. We immediately took off down the stairs because we needed to get to that bridge. We got to the dock and began walking down it. The water was covered in a layer of green algae. The dock swayed side to side as we made our way to the end, breaking cracks into the algae cover where dark water shown through. We were out of the woods now in the middle of an open marsh. We quickly got a reminder of just how strong the sun was that day. We snapped more pictures and retreated back into the woods to find our way to where we started. It was no Appalachian Trail like Bill Bryson explains in his novel, A Walk in the Woods. But it was quite the escape from room 2146 in AuSable Hall.