Sugarbowl

Site Notes…

At the entrance to Muskegon State Park stands a large sand dune, known locally as the “Sugarbowl.” In the winter it is a favorite sliding hill for area young people, although it is quite a hike back up the hill between trips! Don’t worry, you don’t have to climb the hill (well, at least not the whole way up)!

This box is located in Muskegon State Park. A Michigan State Parks vehicle pass is required for entry and can be purchased at the park. Please check the park web site for dates and hours of operation.

Getting There…

Follow Memorial Drive west toward Muskegon State Park. Where Memorial Drive ends at Lake Michigan, turn left. Across from the guard station at the entrance is a small turn-out, with a large sand hill visible in the distance. You will need to pick up the trail at the turn-out, however it is posted, “no parking” here. Parking is available just up the road in the beach lot.

Clues…

“Hey let’s go sliding after school,” Ralphie caught up with me in the lunchroom, as an early winter snowstorm gusted outside the window and dumped fluffy white stuff on top of the couple inches that had fallen the day before.

“Do you think there is enough snow on the hill?” I asked, referring to the infamous Sugarbowl, a huge sand hill at the State Park where the local kids went sliding.

“Yeh, I heard some kids saying they were there last night and it was great!”

“Okay, but I have a few chores to do first before my mom will let me go.”

Ralphie made a face and said, “Well I’ll meet you there then, at 4:00.”

“Okay, where do you want to meet?”

“Meet me at that tree that kind of stands there all by itself, in the middle, at the bottom of the big hill,” Ralphie said.

“Okay…” I answered a bit hesitantly. Being new to the area just last year, I had only been to the Sugarbowl a couple of times, and wasn’t quite sure I knew the tree Ralphie was talking about. I remembered that there were three hills, with the big hill in the back being the one everyone went sliding on, but it seemed to me it was a bit tricky how to get back there without climbing up and down the front two hills.

“Remind me how to get there,” I said.

“Take the trail from the turn-out, up along the left ridge of the front hill. When you get to the tree that’s twisty like a pretzel stick, go down into the woods and follow the trail that runs in the valley all the way around the back of the first hill and along the edge of the second hill. You’ll see the tree from there; just follow the path down the back of the second hill into the clearing to get there.”

“Sounds easy enough,” I answered confidently. Although I couldn’t quite picture it in my mind, I was sure it would make sense once I got there. “I’ll meet you there at 4:00,” I said as the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch hour.

I hurried home from school and completed my chores as quickly as possible, anxious to get to the hill. “Mom, I’m going sliding,” I called as I headed out to the garage to get my sled down from the wall brace where it had hung all summer.

Ralphie’s directions ran through my head as I arrived at the park and started down the path from the turn-out… I followed the ridge to my left along the edge of the front bowl and immediately saw the twisty-trunk tree up ahead. Taking the path down into the trees, I picked up the trail that headed to my right along the valley. After a bit, the trail broke out of the trees and wrapped around the back of the front hill, where it turned to the left toward the middle hill. It was all beginning to look familiar now. I could see the meeting tree in the distance and I anxiously walked up along the ridge of the middle hill to the path that led down the back side. Up ahead, past the tree, the big hill was filled with kids and sleds and even a couple of dogs.

I arrived at the meeting tree promptly at 4:00 p.m. Ralphie was not there yet, and I sat down on my sled to rest for a minute, looking anxiously around, hoping that I was at the right tree. Spotting another, bigger tree standing kind of by itself, just north of where I was, I headed across the path about 30 paces to wait there.

As I waited impatiently for Ralphie, I noticed a lot of commotion up on the ridge of the hill, 100 degrees from where I was sitting. Tired of waiting, I hiked over to see what was going on. As I neared the bank of the hill, I asked a man what had happened.

“There was a kid racing a big guy in a red snowsuit down the hill, and they collided and came sliding right up the side of the hill here into the trees. The kid is all tangled up in the roots of that tree up there.” The man answered, pointing ahead into the crowd of onlookers, to a tree, whose gnarly roots clung to the ridgeline, with several inches protruding over the path, creating a tangled mess of roots and hollow cavities.

I pushed my way in past the crowd, and there was Ralphie, wedged in a tight crevice between two thick fingers of root.