Through Paddling the Betsy River

When you drive a canoe across the country, you best make use of it. Especially if it means almost having your topper ripped off by a tornado in Iowa, but that’s another story.

After reviewing a couple local paddling guides, we settled on the Betsy river in lower northwestern Michigan. With ample experience paddling on the Salish sea, and little to none with rivers, we thought we’d start easy. The trip consisted of roughly 40 miles of meandering slow moving river taking us through wetlands and nature preserves.

The trip began at Grass Lake, the headwaters to the Betsy. Parting the bugs and reeds to get the canoe into the river, it was so slow moving we couldn’t determine the direction of flow. After getting our bearings, we made our way downstream honing our techniques for quick maneuvers around tight corners, bends and numerous logs. In hind sight a kayak would have been better suited for this endeavor, but we made it through just fine. The going was slow as we constantly adjusted our trajectory around the obstacles of low water in July. If there was any question about our compatibility as paddling companions, it would have quickly become evident on this day. Despite the buzzing veil of mosquitos that never subsided, we paddled on. Not all canoe side companions were a nuisance however; beautiful neon blue dragon flies swarmed the river in a few sections, occasionally so thick that they would land on our hand and shoulders as we paddled.

We made camp along the river that night, and then paddled another long day. We only covered roughly 20 miles in those two days, but we worked for every one of them. Instead of searching the banks for another suitable campsite, Amanda was lucky enough to have a family friend with property on the river. Unfortunately our only directions were street directions, so after paddling under the nearest bridge, we hiked the canoe up to the road and down the street to her friend’s house, arriving at sundown. After making our introductions, we cooked up some quick dinner and fell fast asleep. In the morning we were treated like royalty, as we woke up to fresh coffee and a vegan-gluten-free breakfast complete with coffeecake, hash browns and homemade strawberry basil jam. On top of it all, Bob & Tina helped us shuttle our vehicle from Grass Lake to our terminus. Feeling good, but reluctant to leave, we loaded up the canoe and continued downstream.

Another long day of paddling was broken up with an exciting find. Out of the decaying roots holding the river embankment, the largest natural reishi colony I have ever seen. In all fairness, I paddled right by it, but upon Amanda’s request to turn around a take a closer look, I was quickly jumping out of the canoe to personally inspect the mushrooms. Known to the Chinese as the mushroom of immortality, its medicinal qualities are too numerous to list. After covering ourselves, canoe and gear is spore dust, we paddled on, spreading it everywhere we went. As the sun was setting Amanda got stung by a flying insect on the neck, and we decidedly made for an early camp. That night we fell asleep to the sound of beavers hard at work, smacking their tails back and forth. Our last day we were able make better time down the river as we approached Lake Michigan. Along the way I spotted Inonotus obliquus (chaga) growing off of a birch looming over the embankment. Determined to take some home with me, I shuffled up the tree, hatchet in hand, and precariously hacked off a few small chunks. Incredibly dense, it’s comparable to stale hard-wood. Satisfied, we paddled our remaining miles, and took out before we hit the urban development of Elberta, where the river is united with Lake Michigan.