An Inkling of Home

September 7 and 8, 2018 – Saranac to Ada, Michigan  

Tom Writes . . . 

Two lovely days on the Grand River. Recent rains have given us a strong current, in our direction. The Lords of the Winds have helped us, with winds at our backs, swift passages.

We are deep within West Michigan now. We are in Kent County, and beyond Kent County, we only have one more county to paddle through. That will be Ottawa County. Ottawa County will take us to our goal:  The mouth of the Grand River, Lake Michigan, Grand Haven, our family home.

Before this, we already have paddled through nine different counties. We found joy in all nine (Please read back in our blog), but our real joy will be in our goal, when we get home.

Joe already has posted great photos of mighty eagles from this stretch of our trip. I must tell you about a tiny eagle. It landed on my right elbow. A handsome dragonfly, black with large green eyes and light green decorations on its body and tail. It stayed on my elbow for about five minutes, even while I paddled. Then it flew away, fine and free.

Fly fine and free, all my friends!



Thank you for visiting our blog, please share it with a friend. You may contact us by leaving a comment here or via email: (Joe Neely) or (Tom Neely). 



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Saranac to Lowell in Pictures

DSC_1229September 7, 2018

Water Temperature 70 F, Air Temperature 68 F

Joe Writes . . . 

For now I will simply post some photos from a great day on the river. I expect Tom will take up the slack and send me a written entry soon. The coolest thing was the two eagles in a tree; they allowed us to float right underneath their perch without spooking. Enjoy!


A typical view from our canoe, here near to our put-in at Saranac.





A comfy spot to watch the river flow; perhaps we’ll come back here in the next life.


We were glad of the company of our spirit guide this day.


I always take the river’s side; Industry and Big Agriculture have plenty of friends already. Thank you for visiting our blog, please share it with a friend. You may contact us by leaving a comment here or via email: (Joe Neely) or (Tom Neely). 

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The Old Men and the River

August 16, 2018 – Ionia to Saranac, Michigan, 10 Miles

3.5 hours including lunch break

Tom Writes . . . 

CANOE and GRACEFUL never go together at our age.

My brother Joe and I are cute as can be, and strong. No ravages of age yet, no disabilities, still studly. Canoeing is easy for us. Our shoulders are strong; our hearts and lungs can take it.


Still studly, indeed. Notice how Tom takes after a young Walt Whitman here. “I celebrate myself, and sing myself, and what I assume you shall assume, for every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.”

However, getting into and out of our canoe is a challenge, sometimes. Think about it: Canoe seats are less than a foot high, so sitting on them is a low squat situation. And, canoes move around on the water. No stable platform ever, getting in or getting out.

Hours in a canoe: One’s legs are stretched out ahead, motionless. It is not like driving a car for the same number of hours. In a car, one uses the legs, the feet, for pedals, but in a canoe, no pedals, no leg or foot activity.

So, a couple days ago, at the end of our paddle, getting out of the canoe, I ended up on my knees in the water, because I could not exit gracefully. Joe almost laughed. (Editor’s Note: I did not.) And then, I walked funny, on nearly-paralyzed legs for a good half hour.

Brother Joe has this line, when stuff such as this happens. He says, “That’s why we’re doing this canoe trip in our sixties, rather than in our seventies.” Joe and I both are in our sixties now, and the first time he said it, it seemed clever, even somewhat wise. But, now Joe has said it nine or eleven times, and I am sick of it, especially when he uses it to highlight my embarrassing canoe exit.

August 17, 2018 was a lovely day on the lovely river, in West Michigan. And, we old guys had a great time. We paddled and sang and laughed. Maybe take a look at this web site about the Voyageurs.


Thank you for visiting our blog. If you found your visit worthwhile,  please share this website with a friend. You may contact us by leaving a comment here or by email: (Joe Neely) or (Tom Neely).





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Ionia to Saranac

. . . or, All Hail the Mighty Fisherman

August 24, 2018

Water Temp a steady 70 F, Air Temp 69 – 76 F

Joe Writes . . . 

I finally caught a fish on the Grand. Most trips I’ll make a few perfunctory casts but our trip is all about paddling forward, while fishing requires that one not be in a hurry to get from one spot to another. My brother never cared much about fishing – even when we were kids – so there’s that, too. I start casting and he starts drumming his fingers on the fish pic joeBillie V’s gunwales and humming impatiently.

On this trip I had resumed my rightful place, as the strongest paddler, in the stern seat. I saw the resulting after-splash of a leaping fish, starboard and ahead of Tom’s subservient seat in the bow. My fishing pole – in its pink, floatable carrying case – lay at my feet.

“Thar she blows! Hold ‘er steady,” says I, quickly and quietly unsheathing my Zebco harpoon. One perfect cast and – wham! – the Leviathan hit my spinner like a rogue gator introducing itself to a curious Shih Tzu.

Pictures don’t lie.

Other thoughts: the river at our put-in spot for this leg of our journey – the Ionia Fairgrounds – is rather dismal. City Mothers and Fathers would do well to haul away the dead trees that line the riverbank, providing first-time visitors with an uncaring greeting  to their otherwise-attractive city. And we like Ionia; indeed we do.

We didn’t see a heron, our spirit guide, until we were four miles into our 10-mile paddle. That is most unusual and I was beginning to worry, thinking perhaps this stretch of river was cursed. Herons are usually sighted early and often, leading us down the river.

I love that Saranac has a sign geared towards paddlers on its bridge spanning the Grand. Makes a guy want to stop and spend some money . . . other river towns might take heed.

Joe (l) and Tom (r): two handsome River Rogues on the Road to Saranac

saranac bridge pic


I always take the river’s side; Industry and Big Agriculture have plenty of friends already. Thank you for visiting our blog, please share it with a friend. You may contact us by leaving a comment here or via email: (Joe Neely) or (Tom Neely). 

We would love to have you join us on the river, but it’s BYOC.


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Who’s the True Patriot?

After extensive consultation with our legal, financial and spiritual advisors we have decided that the Billie V – unlike the DeVos yacht – will sail under the American flag.

Billie V flag pic

In case you missed the news.


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Bald Eagles and The Alibi: Paddling Into Ionia

Joe’s Photo Essay (followed by Tom’s writing)

Lyons to Ionia on Michigan’s Grand River

August 10, 2018





Tom Writes . . . 

Lyons to Ionia, a Perfect Morning on the River, about Six and a Half Miles

Water Temperature 78 F, Air Temperature 75F

The Grand River is public, but we made use of private property today, rather than the public access points. I already described our put-in place: the sandy beach on the downstream side of the Lyons bridge. Same place we pulled out last time. I have learned that this actually is private property and the property owner is generous, he lets people such as Joe and I use his property. Maybe I should not have publicized it.

So . . . I am somewhat hesitant to tell too much about our pull-out place in Ionia, because it also is somebody’s private land. It is a nifty place. People use it to moor their boats and park their trailers. Before Joe and I paddled there, I scouted, and learned that we would be welcome. But it is not my place to describe it in detail, to invite the world to pull out their kayaks and canoes at that spot.

I call it the River Rat Enclave. I do not believe the people who stay there would be offended by that name. And, just so you know, Joe and I went to a high school where the sports teams are named the River Rats. I hope to devise a River Rat flag to fly along with Old Glory on our canoe when we paddle.

Anyway . . . We had a lovely morning on the river. Clear sky with just a few pretty clouds. Nice breezes cooling us, and the wind was not always in our faces. Sometimes, it even helped us.

Brother Joe was hoping to get some great nature photos (editor’s note: he did, see above). We saw eagles and herons. I hope Joe got some pictures of trees with green leaves, because many of our previous blog photos are of brown trees in the spring and fall. We need green photos, in order to entice you guys down to the river. This time of year, Michigan is green and lovely.

We ended our time together at one of Michigan’s great restaurants: The Alibi Bar and Grill In Ionia. Do yourself a favor and go there! The Alibi is at the south end of the Cleveland Street Bridge, just across the river from Ionia town proper, corner of Cleveland Street and Riverside Dr.

Before we even ordered the owner sent us fresh, free samples of a new Russian dish she is developing. Delicious! The owner’s name is Gala (“Like the apple,” she told us) and she is Russian, with an incredible soft attractive accent in English. Who would ever expect to meet a Russian restaurant owner in Ionia, Michigan? Unexpected, but true. She has great tasty burritos, salads, burgers and more on her menu. Even Russian Burritos. All yummy. (I have been there three times: today and on a couple of scouting trips).

Brother Joe says he loved the Alibi because it checked off all the boxes that are important to him: it is not a chain and they are doing innovative and adventurous things with food as opposed to offering nothing more than the standard mom-and-pop restaurant fare. The Alibi offers more than just burgers, etc. (although they have WONDERFUL burgers).

The Alibi is no flash-in-the-pan. They have been in business in Ionia for five years. I hope Brother Joe will post links to their website (done, they are on Facebook as well, search ‘Alibi Bar and Grill Ionia’ on FB).


I always take the river’s side; Industry and Big Agriculture have plenty of friends already. Thank you for visiting our blog, please share it with a friend. You may contact us by leaving a comment here or via email: (Joe Neely) or (Tom Neely). 

We would love to have you join us on the river, but it’s BYOC.


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Perch Fishing and Foghorns

We’re going out on the river tomorrow: ending up in Ionia. I just asked a guy at an AA meeting if he knew where that was. “Yeah,” he said. “I was in prison there.” I expect we’ll be eating lunch at the Alibi in Ionia around 1 pm, after a 3-hour+/- paddle from Lyons. Join us if you can . . . we’ll be the swashbuckling pirates.

Joe Writes . . . 

These are my earliest memories of the Grand River, starting in about 1960 I suppose, when I was five years old, and beyond.

Perch fishing. Our cottage was a mile north of the channel, where the Grand enters Lake Michigan between Grand Haven’s north and south piers. We knew at a glance if the perch were biting because even from a distance we could tell whether the pier was largely deserted – perch not biting! –  or if the fishermen were lined up shoulder to shoulder. Fishermen fighting for a spot on the pier, of course, were a sure sign the perch were biting.  Perch fishermen were not an unfriendly lot – they always invited us to look in their buckets when we asked them “Catch anything?” – but they spread way out across the pier for some peace and quiet  unless the perch were hitting good.

Walking to the channel on the beach after a storm, the sand washed smooth and hard. We scooped up silver cylindrical fisherman’s floats, floats which before the storm had been used to hold up fishing nets.  I haven’t found one of those floats in ages but they were plentiful then. As far as I can tell commercial fishing is pretty much ka-put on southern Lake Michigan now.

In those days there were only a few houses on the beach past the Hartgers’ place. A few old, weather-worn classic cottages. The Caldwell cottage is the one I remember; it was straight out of a Cape Cod landscape painting. By the time I got to high school that stretch of beach was still deserted enough to provide cover for a couple of kids looking to be alone. Now? Forget about it. Get a room. (I defy anyone to identify a better summer love song than ‘So Much In Love’ by The Tymes.)

The foghorn was on the south pier, as it still is today. An early and comforting memory is of being gently urged to consciousness by the old-fashioned “AH-OOO-GA” of the foghorn on a rainy, misty morning. I probably wasn’t much older than 10 or 12 when the tone switched to an electronic ping; I think that’s what is still used now. I’m sure the new sound was safer and more detectable by the various ships at sea, but it wasn’t nearly as romantic. An electronic ping urges no boy to adventure. “AH-OOO-GA!”

Oh, and freighters entering the Grand or exiting back to the Big Lake belched black smoke from their stacks in those days. Coal smoke? I should know. Haven’t seen a freighter belching smoke in a while. Are the engines all diesel now? Again, I should know.

There have been many changes in the past 50+ years, but the river and the lake remain largely the same in my mind.

– 30 –

Hey, do me a favor; ok? Take the river’s side whenever you can. Industry and Big Agriculture have plenty of friends already. Having stumbled across our blog, please recommend it to a friend. You will also find us on Facebook. Contact us by leaving a comment here or by email (, Join us on the river some day, we’d love the company but you must BYOC (bring your own canoe).


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