Usually we go on a great unplanned road trip for this day. The past two years we rediscovered familiar cities and enjoyed big special events, but this year, I (Dad), wanted to take it easy. A few weeks before the break, I called a few places within a few hours drive of home. One in Paw Paw, MI, seemed promising until they decided kids were a bit much for them. So I looked around and found a very curiously marketed little housekeeping resort near the Indiana-Michigan border in Three Rivers, MI, called Lakeside Melodies. It somehow had openings. The place looked basic, but it promised solitude, a lake, and an easy going weekend.

We packed up on Thursday and left Friday after the traditional Chicago holiday weekend traffic jam ended. It would be a late arrival, but the owners of the resort worked with that. The drive saw the sunset before we even escaped Illinois. Soon enough we were racing across The Indiana Toll Road looking for Exit 107. I was glad to be on the road even though I couldn't drive thanks to a serious gout attack that struck very late Thursday night. In fact, I considered canceling the whole trip, but friends explained that I could sit around at home in pain and agony or sit in front of a beautiful lake in pain and agony. I chose the later.

We arrived at about 11:45 pm, Michigan time. Everything was exactly as promised. The little cottage was spartan, and had a simplicity that took me a few moments to pleasantly adjust to. The walls were made of cinderblock, painted white inside and out. There was a little patio with patio chairs and a table. Inside were two bedrooms, one with bunks, a sparsely decorated living room with a small 18" TV that did a fine job getting local channels from South Bend. The bathroom was adequate for our needs. The kitchen was plain and a bit beat down. I remember the owner half-jokingly asking me if I wanted to buy the place when I made my reservation a few days prior. 

It was unseasonably cold, about 38 degrees, so the owner provided a couple little space heaters to take the edge off.  This cold came down after several days working in an un-air-conditioned school choking with heat and humidity all week.

The moon was full and I could see the reflection of the lake about fifty yards in front of the cottage. I saved my judgments for the morning and got to sleep as best I could. 

The next morning, dew was on everything. I hobbled around the grounds and assayed the situation. The lake was beautiful and small, about 35 acres, not including the long, meandering,  narrowing channel for the outflow to the south. Andrew followed, excited at the prospect of test driving our new 10 foot Viper kayak.  But first we needed groceries and lunch, so we headed a few miles into town and explored the three rivers of Three Rivers, the Rocky River being the prettiest. The historic St. Joseph River included canoe launches and parks.

We bought healthy snacks and dinners at Wal-mart and then carried on back to the cottage after stopping for greasy chicken. While I ate, I inflated the Sea Eagle kayak for its second voyage.  We dragged the boats down to the shore and I tried out the Viper and was quite pleased to find that not only did it not sink under my 290 lbs, but that it stayed straight, was comfortable, and maneuverable. 

I let Andrew have a try by attaching a rope to the end and staying on shore. Soon we were attached via rope in both kayaks, exploring the lake, the lake which is the real star of this place. It is semi-private. The lake does not allow motors and was perfect for kayaking.

  Little Pleasant Lake receives the outflow of all-sport Pleasant Lake via a narrow, fast moving creek that runs through the resort property. The point where the creek meets the lake is hidden by tall aquatic grass, but is the spawning ground of bluegills. I spotted several here defending their indented nests in the sand. They fought each other and they fought my hook and underwater camera. Bluegills have been known to attack snorkelers who come too close to these pothole-looking nests. I caught several bluegills at this point. 

To the west is a place I call 'Turtle City' because the first time I paddled through here, turtles seemed to be everywhere... On logs, on lily pads, swimming to and for. Some were as small as a finger and one, big snapper was as big as a large pizza... A large pizza that bites.

To the west of here the lake curves southward and the shore is heavily wooded. This might be why a couple blue herons hung out here most of the first day. The second day, it was the haunt of a swan for most of the morning and afternoon. And late in the afternoon, we spotted a beaver in the water here. 

Now the lake begins curving east and is rife with lily pads. There is a large, beautiful home here on a nice piece of uphill land. It was for sale. The property was full of bird feeders, flowers, and had two docks for boats. This marks the point where an underwater canyon (about five feet deep)  cuts  into the shallow mud. The channel narrows as one paddles south and varies greatly in depth from a couple inches of mud to several feet. Turtles and bluegills swim about here, the former burying themselves in the mud when they saw the kayak. In fact, most animals were afraid of the kayak.

The channel opens up wide after a bit, and on one hill is a white house. The little pond is very shallow and was the haunt of a wading heron when I first saw it. There are fish all over this pond, including one large pike. When I first saw the pike I thought it was a snake, but the scales and fins and torpedo shaped head gave it away. I would guess the pike was about three feet long and had a wide light-colored back. The wilderness f the back makes me think it could be a very large grass pickerel. It couldn't be a Muskie this far south. I tried to follow it, but he was off in the weeds preparing for another ambush.

The channel is hard to spot here if not for a boat up on a hill through thick rushes and rotting eutrifying water. The channel is about ten to twelve feet wide here and shallow. It is a maze to get through, but once trough it opens up a bit and the channel deepens, but does not widen. The channel meanders for a time and then narrows to about two or three feet at a large beaver dam surrounded by cat tails. The current here is tremendous, but my kayak couldn't fit through, so I turned around and moseyed back to the entrance of the out flowing channel by the big beautiful house.

To the east of the channel is another huge underwater field of bluegill nests and then the lake shore curves to the north. Following the shoreline north we paddle over the best spot to catch big fish. I caught my biggest legions here and spotted very large bass-shaped fish in the weeds. The drop off on this lake is very steep. The owner told me this lake might be over forty feet deep, and that one guest used a depth finder and clocked it at a hundred feet deep. This is not entirely surprising, since the lake is the product of a spring. This might be why the water is so clear despite bordering a farm on its east shore.

This farm had a little path through the grass and here was the best fishing spot for larger fish. I needled the kayak into the weeds, anchoring myself and cast a bobber and worm out toward the drop off, slowly pulling the bait in. I got a little fighting fish almost every time.

To the north, the fish are more jittery and scatter in all directions when confronted with the kayak. The drop off is closer to shore now and then we are back to the resort dock. Not too far south of the dock, one can pull in smallmouth bass. I caught several here and liked the fact that they did not have the spines of the bluegills. One that I caught at night, in the dark, must have been asleep. I didn't even know he was on the hook and then when I took him off the hook and put him back in the water he just sat there beside me as I sat on the dock... He did this for over ten minutes before I couldn't see him anymore. A fingerling was sitting beside me on the other side, even when I reached into the water and stroked his back.

Andrew made friends with the rambunctious kid in the cottage next to us and played. It was funny. He thought an ice breaker would be to show off his rocket launcher. It did prove an ice breaker when the other kid brought of his own rocket launcher to show Andrew. They had a ball in the sand. I heard Andrew proselytize the boy, probably because he was constantly trying to steal Andrews toys. 

Our other neighbors rented two houses and consisted of about a dozen people. It was a large Mexican family that seemed to like to yell in every language... particularly at a girl named "Jessica." At night they stayed up drinking, too late, singing old songs to each other. Fitting, since the place is called Lakeside Melodies.. Each cottage is named for a style of music.  I kind of like that we are staying in the Jazz cottage. In case one isn't aware they are in the "Jazz" cottage, the front room is decorated with posters of Coltrane and Miles Davis.

So it was a nice weekend mostly... With cold nights. We ate together, played games together, laughed together, dealt with each other's temper tantrums and fits, tried to figure out how to kick out an invading mouse together. My gout slowly cleared up and I found time to pray and think and be still for a few moments... I let the red winged blackbirds and bullfrogs sing to me.

Tomorrow, we head toward home, but I intend to take a long route and will post an update to this description later.

Update: We woke up to light rain. I was glad I prepared the kayak and brought stuff in from outside last night so that I could rest easy in the morning. I also cleaned up the kitchen. Within a few minutes a mouse was scampering around in a garbage bag. It might have come into the house one of the many times Andrew left the door open. I took the mouse out with the garbage as he enjoyed the garbage popcorn kernels.

Anyway, it was going to be a very wet day. The rain was never heavy, but it was persistent and light. I went out and packed the van in the rain as Jessica and Andrew picked up in the house. After bidding adieu to our host, we went off toward the east to see the covered bridge by the Sturgis Dam. Along the way we passed beautiful river banks and woods. The road twisted along the St. Joseph River, passing a park full of Amish buggies, until coming to the longest covered bridge in Michigan, built in 1887. We rode it twice. Because of the dam, the bridge no longer passes the river and ends at a causeway halfway across the river turned lake.

We returned to Three Rivers and headed west along Dutch Settlement Road, a beautiful road that cuts through hills, lakesides, and forests and small fruit farms along the way to the lake. In Dowagiac, we changed roads, but continued in a straight westerly direction. As we passed the Berrien County line, the rain stopped and the sun tried a few times to peek out of the clouds to play with the vineyards that this area is famous for. We obviously passed the warm front because my sinuses blew up and I had a huge headache. Jessica had the same problem.

We stopped for a diaper change at rugged Grand Mere SP on the lakeshore and then a few miles south stopped at our familiar beach at Warren Dunes SP.  It was far too windy and cold for a swim, so we played in the sand. Anastasia was particularly enjoying the texture of the sand in her hands, and, unfortunately, in her mouth. After an hour or so of this fun, we headed to Warren Woods SP, an old growth forest that embarrasses the dying, sad "forest preserves" of Cook County, IL.mi scoped out the rivers around New Buffalo for future canoe adventures.

We crossed the state line into Indiana and ate in Michigan City, before visiting Mount Baldy in the Indiana Dunes NS. I was sad to see the dune fenced off from the public, but respect that it has been blowing out far too fast into the city. We enjoyed the beach here before heading west into Beverly Shores. The area is full of bogs and swamps and these were full of interesting birds. We stopped our loafering at the bog on Mineral Springs Road near Portage.

As the sun set, I realized it took me nearly ten hours to drive 50 miles. It was time to get home. I hopped on the Indiana Toll Road and finished the remaining 60 miles in about one hour. We were home and ready for baths. It was high time to wash off the fish, dirt, sand.