Most people in this world don't even know it exists. It certainly isn't the famed beginning of the Mississippi River or the headwaters of the Nile. There were no battles fought on its banks and it doesn't even have a name. Most locals just refer to it as the Fife Lake outlet and some of us call it "the creek."
I drive across this creek daily as I journey into and home from the village to pick up our mail and purchase a Record-Eagle. My wife and I usually take the same route on Sunday to attend church. We live here year round so I've observed the creek during all four seasons and in all its various moods.
Every time I cross the creek, I slow down and take a look. Sometimes I park the Jeep alongside the road and linger awhile. There is always something different to see. It's a modest creek, without a fancy bridge crossing it. Old-timers tell me that many years ago the road ended at the creek. Now, crossing is made possible by two large galvanized culvert pipes that run under the blacktop road.
After a winter's worth of snow accumulation on the frozen lake, the spring thaw begins. It doesn't happen quickly. Winter is slow to loosen its grip. It is during this time that the creek is at its highest and the water running under the blacktop fills the culverts to the top. On the south side of the road, the creek runs wide and swift. The water is crystal clear and very cold.
After the ice is gone from the lake, the creek continues to run clear and fast. The lake level stays high into early summer, fueled from the melted snow and ice and supplemented by warm spring rains. It is at this time of the year that I see enthusiastic young fishermen on either side of the road tempting fish with their poles, bobbers and hooks from which dangle fat juicy worms. I've never seen any of them pull out a big one but they seem happily optimistic.
During the summer months, if one stops at the outlet for a visit, a beaver might be observed gnawing on green saplings along the bank then disappearing downstream where no doubt he is building a fine waterfront lodge. Startle him and a slap of his tail warns his friends of danger as he disappears from sight. Occasionally, the roadside visitor will spot a wood duck or a mallard working their way among the reeds looking for a tasty morsel of food.
As we enter late summer and early fall the creek begins to quiet. It is no longer the lively bubbling brook of early spring. The drier months of August and September have lowered the lake level and slowed the flow into the outlet. What was once a creek of six to eight feet in width could now be jumped across without getting a foot wet. The ferns along the bank and in the woods will turn yellow and then change to a dull brown. The leaves on the white birch begin to fade from green to pale yellow; another signal that summer has run its course.
Within weeks, the forests will be in full color and mornings will host a frosty nip in the air. As I stop by the outlet, I see a reddish orange maple leaf slowly drifting downstream toward Headquarters Lake on its journey to the Manistee River and possibly beyond to the big waters of Lake Michigan.
Soon the gray days of late October will usher in the first hard freeze and the end of the garden for this year. We will wake up one November morning to a dusting of snow and wonder if it is "the one that stays" or are we yet to enjoy an Indian summer? I suppose it's time to put the boat in storage and pull out the dock.
The days get noticeably shorter and the nights colder. The lake will first begin to develop a skim of ice in the protected bays behind the islands. In December it will reach across the big water to the far shore. As I drive to the village to pick up the mail, I'll pause to look at the outlet. There will be ice forming along its banks but the current will keep it from freezing across. The outlet will rest in quiet cold until next spring, then like the rest of us, will look forward to the return of warmer days.
Ed Hungness and his wife owned their cottage on Fife Lake for six years before moving there after his retirement in 2005. He can be reached at edhungness@yahoo.com. For more of Ed's columns, log on to record-eagle.com/edhungness.
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