On the southwest side of the lake, one will notice the dam with the overflowing waters spilling down the spillway. Next door is the lakefront Algonquin Lake Party Store, a small market that carries all of your weekend supplies. Since the day was warm, I stopped in for an ice cold Orange Crush. The friendly clerk thanked me and then returned to gaze out the large picture window overlooking the dock and lake. Having a great view must make work much more pleasant!

 On the northern side of the lake Camp Algonquin, a YMCA camp, is located . I like their motto: “I am third.”  Having summer programs since 1946 and year round use since 2002, the camp has been making memories in the lives of the attendees for many years.

Having visited many Michigan lakes, I think, generally speaking, camps make good neighbors. What do you think?

I came across Maple Manor by pure serendipity while out exploring the upper  Thornapple River. My goal on this last day of February, 2009, was to find the headwaters southeast of Charlotte. I didn’t succeed, but I had a wonderful afternoon, and if I’d had another hour of daylight and a county map instead of a state map, I’m sure I’d have found what I was looking for.

The Thornapple is, in my humble opinion, the most beautiful river in southwest Michigan. All rivers have their lovely stretches, but the Thornapple has more of them than any other river I’m aware of in this part of the state. It’s a clean river, untainted by industry, flowing through mostly rural settings and just a handful of town on its journey from the south central part of the state to its junction with the Grand River in  Ada.

I’m familiar with the Thornapple as far east as  Charlton Park, where it broadens out into Thornapple Lake. From that point on, I’m in personally uncharted territory. Today, I decided to acquaint myself with the upper half.

Just north of the bridge in Nashville, the first road east takes you for a winding journey right along the riverside for maybe a mile-and-a-half before curving to the north. A fleet of swans—scores of them, perhaps hundreds—call this area home. The swans were patrolling the waters in company with a multitude of Canadian geese, the weed birds of the North.

Farther east, down a muddy country road, I caught up with the Thornapple again. But it was a wilder version of the broad backwaters in Nashville. It had narrowed down to a wide, ice-fringed ribbon bordered by cattail marshes and forested hillsides. I stopped to snap a few photos under the late afternoon sun. The day, which had begun with bands of cloud and a light sprinkle of snow, had transitioned into a flawless blue mirrored in the river’s serene surface.

Down the road a few more miles lay Vermontville. When you draw near the town this time of year, you’re apt to see steam rising from local maple sap refineries. These aren’t big, commercial businesses; they’re down-on-the-farm, family-run operations, bastions of Vermontville’s treasure, real maple sugar and maple syrup.

Impulsively, I stopped in at Maple Manor, purchased a half-gallon of syrup and a sampler of candy, and talked with the crew, who were sitting around the boiler. But as I’ve said, that’s a separate blog, so stay tuned.

Twenty minutes later, I was back on the road and headed for Charlotte. Southeast of town, along the backroads, I once again crossed the Thornapple. But it was nothing like the broad channel that flows through Middleville, and Caledonia, and Alaska, and Cascade. Here, in the midst of farm country and lowlands, a narrow stream threaded through a tangled, swampy woods. The sun’s last rays slanted through tree silhouettes, glinting orange off of icy banks.

The day had wound to a close, and I, too, was winding down. I snapped one last picture. Then, climbing back inside my car, I commenced the long drive home.

From fishing, to photography, to birding, to family outings, to Michigan history and more, Charlton Park offers something for just about everyone. Even cabins in the woods for winter wanderers like me looking for something a little different with which to fill their camera lenses.

The cabin called for exploration, and naturally I responded. I have no idea what its history is. It could be a relatively recent reconstruction, but given its weatherbeaten appearance and its location a few hundred yards up a wooded slope from a historic community, it’s reasonable to assume that the old structure is an original pioneer dwelling. The raised foundation suggests that it may have been moved from somewhere nearby to where it now stands. Or maybe not. I didn’t find any mention of it in the Charlton Park website, so the story behind it remains a mystery. What’s plain to see, though, is that the cabin is remarkably well constructed, a very sturdy-looking log dwelling dovetailed together with amazing precision.

Sundry items on the premises add to the sense of human presence—a shed for firewood on the northwest side; a rustic, picturesque rain barrel up against the east wall. The grounds, if not the cabin itself, appear to be used for something—school groups, Boy Scout outings, who knows?

Leaving the cabin, I hopped in my car and continued down the road toward the park office and the historic village. Originally known as Indian Landing, the town was once a thriving nineteenth century community, and today it is preserved as a landmark jam packed with fascinating insights into life in an 1800’s Michigan settlement. Look through the website and you’ll be amazed at what this park has to offer in the way of educational programs, events, volunteer opportunities, forestry, and recreation. Charlton Park is a class act and one of the true jewels of Barry County, Michigan.

Today, however, with a cold northwest wind blowing snow across the empty parking lot, you’d have had to use your imagination to picture the place filled with people strolling down tree-shaded walks past the Bristol Inn, the cooper’s shop, the blacksmith shop, the one-room schoolhouse, and so forth.

On a rise overlooking the rest of the village stands the Carlton Center Church. My hands were growing numb, but the lovely, white building with its picturesque steeple was too photogenic to pass up. Built in 1885, the structure served as a Methodist Episcopal church until 1975, when it was moved from its original location in Carlton Center to Charlton Park. Complete with all of its original furnishings, the church is still used today for weddings—and as a subject for wayfaring writers bearing cameras.

If you think of Barry County as little more than a hinterland of lakes, wetlands, farms, and state game land, then a visit to Charlton Park will change your mind. Whether you want to experience a cross-section of Michigan history, picnic in a pavilion, or simply relax with a book beneath a shady maple by the riverside, treat yourself to an afternoon at the park. Bring your family, your date, or just yourself. You’ll thank yourself for taking you there.

Well located in central Barry County, Head Lake is close to many other Michigan lakes, both large and small, as well as being close to Hastings and Delton for all your weekend supplies. It is also close to the Gun Lake area and all that area has to offer.

Out of the way doesn’t mean poorly maintained, though. The trail system here is well conceived, with solid boardwalks and two benches where one can pause, rest, and look. And this unique Michigan landscape invites plenty of looking. I’ve been coming here for at least ten years, and I never cease to marvel at the beauty of this many-faceted sanctuary. Season to season reveals different aspects of the place, emphasizing its rich biological and ecological diversity. According to the Grand Rapids Audubon web page for Maher Sanctuary, “Yellow-breasted Chats have been found near the marl pond. Screech Owls have been found roosting in several locations. Common Snipe may be found ‘winnowing’ over wetlands in spring. Some of the best sightings here are plants, not birds.”

Being a plant man myself, I’m certain that last statement is true. I’ve got a pretty good eye for high-quality habitat, and the Maher Audubon Sanctuary is prime, a fascinating tapestry of hardwood forest, upland, prairie fen, and shrub swamp, through the heart of which flows Caine Creek. I’m struck by Calvin College biology professor Fred Warner’s assessment of the sanctuary following a botanical inventory conducted in 2002: “I cannot overemphasize the beauty and conservation significance of this parcel…sections of this property have likely been unaltered from presettlement times. A notable element of this survey is that a total of 67…species have not officially been recorded for Barry County.”

All that to say, when you visit the Maher Sanctuary, you may wish to bring a wildflower guidebook, and you’ll definitely want to keep your camera ready and your eyes peeled.

For an easy route to the site, take Alden Nash south from I-96 to 100th Street. Head east half a mile, then turn south on Baker Road to 108th Street. Turn west on 108th and look for the little parking turn-off with a sign board on your left about a quarter-mile down the road.

You’ll find the trailhead right next to the parking area. Plan on an easy walk of roughly one mile. How much time? It’s up to you. You can easily walk the entire loop in half an hour. But what’s the rush? Slow down and open your senses. That’s why you’re here, right? Places like this reveal their treasures to the patient. So pause and savor the spiced wetland air…the striking, crimson blossoms of the cardinal flower and the spikes of its cousin, the great blue lobelia…the primal ratcheting of sandhill cranes…the red berries of Jacks-in-the-pulpit at summer’s end…the play of light on Caine Creek, filtered through a canopy of maple leaves. Cross the stream, ascend a hill, and you’ll find a bench with a view—an overlook of the broad fenland stretching below.

A little farther, and another boardwalk takes you across more wetland, then ushers you onto the last stretch of trail, past a small pond and through the woods back to your car.

Take one last, savory breath before you climb inside and head home. One for the road to tide you over till next time—because there will be a next time. Trust me, you’ll be back.

This sign has always been one of my favorites. It is found at the Airport Sand and Gravel Company on State Rd, just outside of Hastings Michigan in Barry County.

I like it so much that I am thinking of having our FOR SALE signs redesigned. I need something a little larger than what I have now and this just may work. I only wonder what the various townships would say.