Photo: Steve Trosin | Digital Art: Stephanie Thwaites
Doorway to Adventure
Rediscovering Freedom on Two Wheels Through Michigan’s Lower Peninsula
Story By: Steve Trosin
“You’re lucky you found someone who will put up with your s%#&.”
That was my Dad’s response when I called to check in with him after arriving at our hotel on the second night of our first-ever “bikepacking” trip. I had told him it had been a long day, and my wife Monica and I had both been tested on the bike. Most people drive the 120 miles to Lake Michigan from where we live in the south-central part of the state of Michigan, but I’ve always preferred paths that are less traveled. My Dad has always been supportive, but we don’t come at life from the same angle. As someone with an addictive personality, I don’t do moderation. It’s all or nothing. This has led to a few different obsessions in my life.
Bikes, which I believe fall into the healthy category of obsession, are something that I’ve been pretty much all in on for just about as long as I can remember. My first bike was a Sears version of a Schwinn Stingray. Like so many people, I trace my love of cycling to that initial feeling of freedom that came when I first learned to ride. Over the years, I did a lot of cycling on many different bikes, spending hours in the saddle training for triathlons. Even during darker times of unhealthy living (we’ll get to that in just a second), I kept an eye on the bike world.
Alcohol was my main unhealthy obsession. I had been a fan since my teenage years, but my alcohol use gained momentum after a tough divorce and the financial meltdown of 2008. You might say my focus shifted from endurance athletics to endurance drinking. It took years, but I eventually gained over 100 pounds and faced serious health issues. Quitting alcohol in November 2014 was the turning point for getting healthy again, and the bike became my tool for transformation.
Gravel bikes were my reentry into cycling. These versatile machines offered the freedom to explore the dirt roads and trails I’d always been curious about. Monica and I bought a pair of Specialized Sequoias and started dreaming of multi-day bikepacking adventures. After watching videos of elite riders tackling epic challenges, I became fixated on planning something of our own.
When the pandemic hit, those dreams suddenly felt urgent. I began spending a lot of time on two different route-planning apps, Komoot and Ride With GPS, along with Google Maps. Monica said she would be comfortable riding between 40 and 65 miles per day, with the caveat that we stay someplace with a hot shower and a real bed. With those guidelines, I started crafting a route between towns spaced approximately that distance apart, ensuring each had a hotel, motel, or short-term rental option. For this trip, we planned to do what’s often called “credit card bikepacking.”
I also prioritized routes that featured dirt or gravel roads or dedicated bike trails whenever possible. We’re fortunate in Michigan to have several “rails to trails” bike trails, where abandoned or no longer used railroad tracks have been converted into multi-use recreational trails for walking, biking, and other non-motorized activities. By comparing the two apps with Google Maps’ street view feature, I could gauge how busy a stretch of road might be, whether it had a decent-sized shoulder, and other factors that could impact our ride. Since our trip, these apps have advanced significantly, and new tools, like the Gravelmap.com website, now make it even easier to identify dirt and gravel roads in different areas. With some homework, you can plan a route that easily downloads to your phone or bike computer, guiding you through some incredible places. Traveling by bike offers the unique advantage of noticing details and connecting with people and places in ways that are impossible when traveling by car.
Graphic: Google Maps, Generated by Steve Trosin
The route I created started and ended at our home in Jackson, Michigan, located in the south-central part of the Lower Peninsula. It took us west to the shores of Lake Michigan and then back inland through a sizable portion of our home state. Over eight days, we covered 377 miles and climbed a total of 8,150 feet. While it wasn’t as epic as some of the adventures I’d seen on YouTube, it was challenging enough for both of us to enjoy and feel accomplished by the end.
Here are the highlights of our journey and why you might consider embarking on an adventure like this yourself.
Day 1: Jackson to Battle Creek
(48.3 miles, 1,125 feet of climbing)
We set out from our house with fully loaded bikes—bags and gear ready. If you’re ever planning an adventure like this, it’s a good idea to do a trial ride with your loaded bike first to understand how it handles and check for any potential issues with the bags. Unfortunately, we didn’t do that, and less than five miles in, we were stopped along the Falling Waters Trail to make some necessary adjustments. Monica’s bike is significantly smaller than mine, and ordering the same size bags for both of us was a rookie mistake.
The day’s highlight came after a sudden downpour soaked us to the bone. We detoured to Dark Horse Brewery in Marshall and had a late, unplanned lunch while waiting out the storm. By the time we reached our hotel, we were ready for hot showers and a short walk to a local Mexican restaurant. With Day 1 in the books, we both felt like we were starting something we would remember for a long time.
Day 2: Battle Creek to South Haven
(64.8 miles, 1,100 feet of climbing)
We started the day on quiet country roads, meandering toward Kalamazoo. A surprise bike path made navigating the city more manageable, and we stumbled upon a natural grocery store for snacks before tackling the Kal-Haven Trail. This crushed-limestone rail trail was a peaceful 34-mile stretch. We took a slight detour for cold drinks and salty snacks. It felt good not to have a schedule or an agenda other than getting to South Haven before dark.
As the miles stretched on, Monica’s bike computer’s five-mile alerts felt like they took longer and longer to happen. By the time we reached South Haven, our legs were fried, but the promise of Lake Michigan views lured us out for a three-mile walk to dinner. We earned every bite that night.
Photo: Steve Trosin
Photo: Steve Trosin
Photo: Steve Trosin
Day 3: South Haven to Grand Haven
(56.4 miles, 1,375 feet of climbing)
A cold, gray morning greeted us, and fierce headwinds added to the day’s difficulty. Our breakfast plans fell through due to pandemic closures, so we stopped for coffee and snacks at a tiny general store on our route. The owners’ curiosity about our trip reminded us of the human connections that we were in search of when we began this journey. It also made the ride seem a little easier.
Later, we encountered our first major obstacle: flooded roads. With no alternative, we took off our shoes and socks and waded through knee-deep water (thigh-deep for Monica). While we wouldn’t have asked for that kind of obstacle, it made for a lasting memory. By the time we checked into our hotel, we were ready for a rest day. My knee had begun to ache, making the timing perfect.
Day 4: Rest Day in Grand Haven
We had coffee and breakfast at a nice café with outdoor seating, followed by massages and a sensory deprivation float. Blissed out, we wandered the crowded beach and ended the day with a quiet dinner downtown. My knee, thanks to Tiger Balm (“Who told you to put the balm on?”) and a little TLC, felt ready for the road ahead.
Day 5: Grand Haven to Belding
(58.3 miles, 1,625 feet of climbing)
Starting the day with a flat tire wasn’t part of the plan. Luckily, it was an easy fix, and we were back on the road without much delay. Heading inland, the scenery shifted to farmland and rolling hills. We stopped for lunch in Rockford at a brewery by the river and were happy our route took us by such a great spot to take a break. We got to Belding in time for dinner at the restaurant that was connected to our eclectic motel and then called it an early night.
Photo: Steve Trosin
Photo: Steve Trosin
Photo: Steve Trosin
Day 6: Belding to Alma
(52.2 miles, 825 feet of climbing)
We were on the road early and were in Greenville before 8 AM. The local bike shop owner let us use his pump to top off our tire pressure even though they weren’t open yet. Pandemic closures once again derailed our breakfast plans, so we got an early lunch at a gas station Subway a little way down the road. Flexibility is key on the road. The Fred Meijer Heartland Trail made for a relaxed ride, and we ended the day with pizza and card games at the Triangle Motel. The pizza delivery guy saw our bikes and had lots of questions about our trip and our gear. Once again, the bike created instant connections between strangers.
Day 7: Alma to East Lansing
(51.2 miles, 950 feet of climbing)
The day started with quiet roads and a friendly passerby in a pickup offering water. After lunch in St. Johns, we saw another bikepacker with the tell-tale bags on his bike, which made us know that he wasn’t just out for an afternoon ride. He was heading across the trail with plans to end up in Traverse City and spend some time near Sleeping Bear Dunes. Talking with him and imagining the adventure he was on made me sad that our trip would be ending the next day. Outside of St. Johns, we rode past miles of mint fields. The smell was fantastic! I had forgotten that St. Johns is known as “Mint City.” The traffic steadily increased the closer we got to Lansing, and by the time we rolled into our hotel, we were grateful for the air conditioning and the proximity to a sushi restaurant that was open for take-out orders.
Day 8: East Lansing to Jackson
(46.0 miles, 1,175 feet of climbing)
We got an early start on our last day, and the streets of East Lansing were quiet on a Sunday morning. Our route took us onto another flooded trail, deep enough to require removing the bags from Monica’s bike along with our socks and shoes. Despite soggy bike shorts, we spent the last part of our ride appreciating all we’d accomplished. As we rolled back into Jackson, we were grateful for being reminded of how beautiful our home state was, and we were grateful for being able to have this adventure together.
This journey reminded us that even when the world seems really challenging, it is full of kindness and connection, and an adventure can be there for the taking if you’re willing to step outside of your comfort zone. If you’re considering a bikepacking trip, start small, embrace the unexpected, and savor every mile, and if you’re lucky, maybe you’ll find a partner who is willing to put up with whatever crazy ideas you throw at them.
About the Author
Steve Trosin is as close to a lifelong Jackson resident as you can get without being a native. A songwriter, singer, cyclist, and outdoor enthusiast, Steve’s passions are deeply rooted in both creativity and adventure. Formerly the Executive Director of the Jackson Symphony Orchestra, he now serves as the Outdoor Recreation and Sales Manager for Experience Jackson. Steve’s mission is to showcase the best of Jackson, inspiring others to embrace the outdoors and helping the community thrive as the best version of itself.
Follow Steve on Instagram
