The Upper Peninsula of Michigan enjoys a mystic reputation, because it’s a place apart, underpopulated and isolated.
In this long stretch of land bordered by lakes and Canadians there are no recognizable chain stores, not much cell service and not many people. There are lots of trees, lakes and mosquitoes and winters are a bit demanding, or so I hear as I’m not likely to be here in winter.
It’s lovely in summer, all green and sunny, at least when we’ve been here, with long largely empty roads and small towns.
The roads put me in mind of the large open spaces I’ve seen in photographs of the “far north.” It confirms my relief that we didn’t dash off to Alaska this Spring, picturing myself driving for hours with an increasingly grumpy navigator fearful of mosquitoes which are like cats-attracted to people who dislike them the most.
We took off exploring partly by accident as Google Maps flipped out for a bit and decided gravel was either a short cut or the main route, we never did figure it out. After the suburban mailboxes faded from sight it became apparent that logging is big business and requires many dirt roads up here.
Fortunately Mexico has inured us to potholes bumps and dirt on our roads and we pressed on looking for the brown signs that indicate National Forest roads on public land.
Our first night around the neighborhood known as Iron This and that (wood, mountain etc…) we screeched to a halt in a roadside park. These are located all over the place but the ones in scenic spots on the edge of lakes near houses are all labeled “No Camping Or Overnight Parking.” This lovely spot wasn’t so we did.
We don’t pull out chairs and tables in rest areas, we simply park and sit at a picnic table or aboard GANNET2 and make no messes. This place had a pit toilet a trashcan and an old metal hand pump on which I hung my bucket three times and filled our water tank by siphoning the bucket as we do in Mexico.
The bottom of the parking area ended in an overlook which didn’t impress Rusty but the human members of the expedition stood and watched the flowing waters as humans do. Flowing waters and jumping flames attract our atavistic natures and we are not immune. Pasties for dinner reminded us we were in Copper Country, a land of much mining it turned out.
Roadside fruit stands, like the ghastly road surfaces it is in mind of Mexico. Layne tackled the sellers but she said they were not very forthcoming so I looked Wikipedia to read all about the mining history of Copper Country. Cornish miners have traveled all over the place, including Mexico, in search of work and brought pasties with them. I like meat pies in any form but Layne will only eat a pasty of it has exotic spices and curries and the like. Cornwall and hot peppers together is not traditional. But she is the rule breaker on the expedition.
My dinner was traditional ground beef, potatoes carrots and swedes (rutabagas in American English); hers was a jalapeño pasty. Go figure.
I wanted to visit Marquette, the big city of the you pee at least to drive through as we had skipped it entirely at the height of the pandemic. On our way out to the most famous park in the city, Presque Isle 300 acres of reputed loveliness we had to pass under an active ore loading system. Train on top, ship alongside underneath and the contents of the mines are off round the world somewhere.
The park may well be divine but we’ll never know. There was a big sign saying no dogs outside vehicles so, thanking the Promaster’s front wheel drive for a tight turning radius we made a quick u-turn and stopped at a beach on the way back to the city. Rusty was delighted.
Lake Superior is the backdrop to the city.
A lovely summer day in the 80s with a fresh breeze and the only sign was one warning of the chance of drowning if one ignored the stern order not to swim. Luckily Rusty hates the water so I never have to worry about him. And I of course am the rule follower…
We drove through Marquette which under the August sun looked lovely.
It reminded us of Portland Maine, broad streets lined with rather severe Victorian buildings, monuments to endeavor and industry. The city nowadays is home to a university campus which must raise some rugged students this far north.
A pedestrian walking by in Munising told us his wife buys their pasties at the supermarket but he had heard good things of Muldoons which is totally traditional and thus Layne said no thanks and I got a beef pie with rutabagas which I happen to like. We tried the other recommended spot but they were all out of their non traditional pasties. Rusty, who enjoys the northern climate got a couple of decent urban walks out of it all.
iOverlander had a couple of spots listed, one by the water predictably already occupied so we drove off looking for the National Forest which you’d think wouldn’t be that hard to find. In the end I turned the street map off and navigated the map myself.
We spent the better part of three days lounging and reading with barely a cell phone signal and the sounds of birds and distant highway 28 traffic to keep us company.
I think four vehicles drove by while we were parked. We worked on projects fixing a loose cupboard door and sorting out our new mosquito nets even though the mosquitoes were very few.
I wonder how Rusty views these places, here checking them out through the new netting. He only knew South Florida heat until we rescued him and promptly took him off to Canada where he first encountered cool summer days.
He checks the perimeter and trails with me. After we do a tick check he makes a nest in the long cool grass under the bracken and half sleeps and half keeps watch. At night we have to call him in to supper as he is really an outdoor dog and loves watching the wilderness. If he gets spooked we look around while he hops on his bed in the safety of his home, GANNET2.
If we want to be away from people we look for camping spots away from water. Most campers want to wake up to water views which around here are freshwater and breed mosquitoes. In Mexico we enjoy waterfront views because there are so few RV travelers and few among them are ready to ignore the nonsense about dangerous Mexico. As you’ve seen we camp in lonely beaches with all the water views we could wish for.
The masses are getting ready for Labor Day so we will need to navigate the crowds we anticipate will be out for the last hurrah of summer even as a few deciduous leaves turn yellow. Where we will sleep we don’t quite know but we’ve been doing this a while and we are confident these days something will present itself, unlikely a campground but most B likely some wild camping opportunity somewhere.
It’s been a long ten weeks of driving since we crossed the border in Mexico and we have more to go. A van upgrade in Ohio on the 8th, changing leaves in the Northeast, Layne’s sister in North Carolina, boat work with Webb in South Carolina and then home to Key West to renew acquaintance. After that we leave for South America, far beyond Mexico. Phew! Retirement is only for the tough. Meanwhile this:
As lovely as it looks.
