Manry Family

A river runs through the time I have spent in Michigan.  Geographically speaking, the Au Sable River snakes its way over 200 miles from north-central Michigan before it empties itself into Lake Huron on the state’s eastern coast.  But in my mind, the Au Sable, along with the thick stands of pine, spruce, cedar, and birch trees its waters cut through easily composes one of my favorite pictures of this state I’ve called home for six years.  That I have annually traversed this water way by means of a canoe has something to do with my fondness for this river.  A canoe transports its passengers and cargo with a quiet grace that allows a journey to be experienced in its fullness.  Rippling waters, fish leaping out of the water at hovering flies, giant blue herons slowly gliding across the river, paddling through a thick morning fog blanketing the top of the water leave lasting impressions on my senses when I paddle the Au Sable River.  But even more deeply embedded in my memory are the people that have accompanied me on these trips. 

In 1999, Ross Grantham and I ambitiously paddled the first 110 miles of the Au Sable in three days.  It was a real test of endurance and a feat I could only pull off with someone as happy-go-lucky as Ross.   Two years later, my brother in law Paul Bobo and I traversed 55 miles over two days and camped at a little spot we called “Cedar Flats” for its abundance of cedar trees surrounding a leveled patch of grass.  The only thing better than the smell of cedar burning in our fire was the sound of Paul’s guitar strumming along with the river rolling by.  In 2003, it was Ben Brown who came with his own agenda in the form of a fly rod to Au Sable's famed “holy waters” for fly fisherman.  Last year, my good friend Brad Benedict drove up from Kentucky to experience the river along with my then 4 year old son, Luke.  We camped at a spot that had always caught my eye when I passed by three times previous because of the towering pines that surrounded the shore like an amphitheater.  Soon after our arrival we discovered a family of bald eagles called this bend in the river home causing us to name the site “Eagle Bend.”  Brad and I have shared many trails during our college days and I thoroughly enjoyed the chance to reminisce around a fire and under a starry sky – a familiar venue of many of our conversations.  This week, however, I got to share the river, one more time before we leave for Africa, with both of my sons, Luke and Connor.