Bois Blanc Island, Straits of Mackinac
The day woke up cloudy and cold on Bois Blanc Island (Boblo in local parlance). We took our coffee out to the edge of Lake Huron and peered up at tentative spots of blue sky above the distant trees.
In the summer, the days here are spent in an on the water. Now, the water is so cold you feel icicles forming the the marrow of your bones when you step in. This lonely island has a remote kind of charm in the cooler season. You feel a little special having come here when hardly anyone else does: braver, hardier, more pure... The air smells of rain, moldy leaves and damp earth, and yet has a kind of crispness in it that foreshadows the coming of snow.
Here, we’re pretty far away from urban biking. We came up one last time this year to close up the tiny cabin for the season, and to pack in some late season outdoor fun. This year, the fun came in a fat, double package.
There are no paved roads on Boblo. A single, county-maintained gravel road encircles it —well, almost. If you want to travel all the way around the island, you’ll have to traverse the deeply-rutted ATV trails on the north-facing side in something other than a Subaru Outback.
Boblo is relatively flat, but the gradual, rolling ridges that one must climb to access the island's interior are littered with boulders, gravel, sand, slippery leaves, and transected by projecting roots and fallen logs. So although the topography is not necessarily very challenging, portions of the terrain are quite technical.
Turns out that fat bikes are the perfect vehicles for these conditions. As we ascended our gravelly and thickly overgrown driveway to the main road, the monster, 4-inch wide low-pressure tires of our fat bikes floated effortlessly over the rocky surface. About a mile up the road we turned onto an ATV trail, and began the slight climb into the interior. And that's when we ran into a few puddles. Man-eating ones.
Some of these puddles are seasonal, others are virtually year-round ponds in the middle of ATV trails, teeming with amphibian life, abuzz with mosquitoes, their murky surface concealing underwater ridges and traps. So, on my first approach, I limped through the puddle with one foot on the muddy edge, the other on the pedal.
But after emerging unscathed on the other side, I thought, oh what the hell! The ride was exhilarating. Floating on fat air balloons, I stopped worrying about gripping the handlebars or putting my foot down in fear of obstacles, as I picked my way deftly over and around roots and boulders, and even hopped an occasional log. The puddles changed from a challenge to an enticing treat, as we rode through them with a splash that muddied us from shin to shoulder, and left tell-tale streaks on our backs. Riding through puddles turned out to be hootin’ and hollerin’ type of fun.
As we climbed up, the moist, piney thicket gave way to drier, more open birch and maple woods, and the muddy, puddled trail turned to a rocky, rooted, golden leaf colored paradise.
After a couple of hours of knocking around the central ridge of the island, we dropped back down to the trail that hugs its northern edge, where we got a few good glimpses of Mackinac island. We poked around the rocky Lake Huron shore looking for a suitable picnic spot.
After a glorious day of riding we built a fire in the clearing overlooking the lake, rested, and enjoyed some smoked Polish sausages that we brought with us in happy anticipation of such an opportunity.
And we toasted our journey, the adventure, the crazy bikes we rode, and the spectacular fall day at one of earths most glorious corners.
The day ended as it had begun, on the shore of the big lake by the fire. The wind fanned the green smoke out over the water, as the chill from the damp rocks worked its way up our backs, and we thought of the summer that faded away.
In case you are curious, here's the approximate route we travelled, marked in green. Approximate, because, as far as I know, no reliable map of Boblo exists, and even if it did, it's impossible to correlate it with reality, because nothing on Boblo is marked. You follow your nose. The blue line indicated the route we took the following day, when we went searching for the mysterious giant boulder that sits on the island (pictured above).
Summary:
Bois Blanc is a place near and dear to our hearts, and we visit several times a year. Here’s an account of an overnight bike camping trip we did on the island in early fall.
Accessible by the highly reliable Plaunt Transportation Ferry service from Cheboygan, MI.
Mackinac Island’s larger (34 sq. mi) and much more rustic sister in the Straits of Mackinac.
No paved roads. The main gravel road goes most, but not all the way around the island.
Many inland roads are accessible only by ATV.
Outstanding opportunities for self-supported bikapacking and camping.
Bois Blanc has 6 inland lakes and a privately owned lighthouse at its northern tip.
Rudimentary amenities, including small general store & restaurant, and a tavern.
During some winters, an ice road is marked by cut evergreen trees, allowing travel over the ice between the Island and the mainland. The route generally runs from Pries Landing on the mainland, to Sand Bay on Bois Blanc.
Bois Blanc Township official website.
Pure Michigan Bois Blanc page.