HS #86 2022.9.8
Good Living in the Michigan UP
I vacation each year in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. As soon as you cross the Mackinac Bridge, life changes. Instead of SUVs, you see rusty pickups and kayaks atop cars. Canoeing and kayaking are ubiquitous in the north country. Once when on a remote canoe trip in the Boundary Waters, I spied in the distance a broad-shouldered, flannel-shirted figure muscularly thrusting a canoe towards our landing. Hitting the shore and nodding acknowledgement, the paddler deftly heaved the canoe up on her shoulders and quietly disappeared along the portage path. You read it correctly, “her.” Impressive.
Interesting people. My license plate is “EXP LOG.” I chose it half dozen years ago expecting STEM folk to honk when they passed. EXP stands for “exponential” and LOG for its mathematical relative “logarithmic”. Alas, I have driven these six years unacknowledged. Until this past vacation. A woman approached me, “May I ask you a personal question – what does your license plate mean?” I explained it. She responded, “Oh, I thought it meant “Expert logger.” Of course, I’m in the UP.
No lack of cultural experiences. Each Wednesday I join a dozen other string musicians playing Celtic music at the Munising Falling Rock Café/Used Book Store where locals congregate to play games. I recently met the daughter of the only American sailor on Shackleton’s Antarctic expedition.
Rules are relaxed. Years ago, I brought a dozen Hope College Outdoor Adventure Club students for Labor Day weekend camping on the Au Train beach. Upon arrival, one asked, “May we stay here? The sign says ‘No camping or overnight parking.’” I reassured her that I had camped and overnight-parked for years, never having even noticed the sign. They remained concerned until a late arriver explained that she had stopped in Munising at Family Fare to ask directions to find our group. The Alger County sheriff happened to be behind her in line. He answered, “Oh, your friends are camping on the Au Train beach.” We enjoyed a weekend of illegal camping under his watchful eye.
I once returned home from vacation to find a $125 fine from the City of Holland because I had a few weeds (milkweeds as I recall) in my lawn over 8 inches high. The City Council had recently passed an ordinance and, like a child with a new toy, it was being zealously enforced. Only after getting pictures of the lawns of city council members, several of whom were in technical violation of the ordinance, did I convince the city to waive the fine. In contrast, in the UP I have a “Natural Indigenous Wildflower Lawn.” That is, I let the local weeds grow as they want. The result: My lawn is filled with wild raspberries, wild blueberries, and blackberries – compliments of seed-bearing birds. My breakfast of shredded wheat and granola never tasted so good. More altruistically, there is also milkweed for the monarch butterflies, now endangered with their numbers cut in half in recent years. Holland would do well to reconsider its priorities.
And the air! Holland gets its air across the widest east-west spot of Lake Michigan, but it is flavored by Milwaukee. Au Train sits at the widest north-south point of Lake Superior. Its air comes across 160 miles of fresh water from Canada. I should bring back jars of it to sell.
I DO bring back the water – 30 gallons this trip. I collect it from a spring cascading over a ridge by Au Train falls. Nothing wrong with Holland water, but natural spring water, collected by many in the UP, is a treat. All without wasting plastic.
But perhaps the best aspect of the UP is the opportunity to recreate in pure nature. I frequently kayak the Black, Pigeon and Kalamazoo Rivers in West Michigan, but I stay in my kayak. Kayaking the Au Train River allows for swimming and bathing in the crystal clear sandy-bottomed river. (Sand is a great exfoliant.) There are also rope swings and places to jump from bridges.
I’ve taken advantage of those in past years, but this year I joined the class of people who have jumped from Blackrock Cliffs into Superior in the northern corner of Presque Isle Park in Marquette. It’s a rite of passage in becoming a true Yooper. It compensates for the other rite of passage – eating a pasty. Pasties are good if eaten occasionally – once every ten years is about right. White fish, on the other hand
