Welcoming Fall Michigan-Style: Sugarloaf Mountain and Morgan Falls

If you know me (or if you've taken a look around this blog), you know I love Kentucky. I love fall in Kentucky and going to pumpkin patches, picking apples from the orchard, and having evening bonfires. But ever since I first spent time in the north during the fall of my senior year of high school (we went on a college visit to Vermont), I've been enamored by autumn up north and everything that comes with it: the chilly temperatures, the vivid reds, oranges, and yellows of the trees, the morning mist and gray skies. So how could I pass up an opportunity to see one of my best friends and witness the height of the fall season in a lakeside vacation town? 

Marquette is in the upper peninsula of Michigan, tucked right beside Lake Superior, and it's no surprise that it has been ranked one of the best places to see fall foliage in the U.S. with its expansive forests reflecting off the tempestuous waters of Superior. Lucky me, one of my best friends from undergrad lives there and graciously opened her apartment to me for the weekend. Though the time I had with her was short, we made the most of it by taking two beautiful hikes that gave us different perspectives on the gorgeous foliage around us. 

1. Sugarloaf Mountain

For our first stop on the fall foliage tour, we decided to check out the changing leaves from above. Sugarloaf is very accessible from Marquette, and the hike up isn't difficult—it even has stairs up to the summit. And the view is well worth the twenty minutes to the top. You're greeted with a panoramic view of Superior, and the rocky terrain makes for some unique and challenging climbing if you choose those routes. There are some nooks in the rock at the summit that are perfectly suited for taking a break while gazing out over the lake. (Next time, I think I'd want to take a picnic! It would have been perfect.)

2. Morgan Falls

For our second adventure, we went off the beaten path (literally). After turning down an unmarked dirt road, we parked off the side in the leaf detritus at where we assumed the online directions had designated a parking area. Four-wheelers and dirt bikes sped along the path, and signs designated that the route was created for snowmobiles for parts of the year. 

This is where our adventure got more adventure-y. For some unknown reason, we assumed that the entrance to the trail to the waterfall was a little ways ahead of the parking spot, so we set off until we found another trail marked "Carpe Eh Diem." We knew that the waterfall was at the intersection of the Carpe River and Morgan Creek, so we figured that was the right way. 

Famous last words, right? We spent the next two hours hiking in the complete wrong direction, backtracking and questioning ourselves along the way. By the time we gave up and decided to return to the car without having found the waterfall, we had ventured all the way to a sketchy path following massive power lines. 

However, I can't ignore the serendipity of us getting lost. In the midst of following the wrong trail, we found two of the most interesting sights of the hike. The first, pictured below, was a clearing presumably made by loggers in the middle of nowhere. Imagine walking through a dense forest for miles and then suddenly seeing this massive swathe of empty land marked by the skeletons of fallen trees, dark woods hemming it in on every side. The second was a path that led to a Lord-of-the-Rings-esque patch of forest of towering pines where we could climb down to the water's edge to see the rapids. The vibes were very Pacific Northwest, and I could not get enough!

In true INFJ style, we realized that we had been completely unaware of our surroundings when we started our hike and had somehow passed up the trail that was quite literally directly across from our parked car. So upon returning from our diversions, we finally beheld the waterfall that had lured us into this forest in the first place. And, surrounded by gushing water, fiery leaves, and mammoth evergreens on every side, I felt that longing that tells me that I will be back to a place soon.