Sunday, June 23

We made it back from the Upper Peninsula to the Downer Peninsula. South of the 45^th parallel and closer to the equator.

Going back across the Mighty Mac.

Roadwork on the bridge. Looks like they used a sign designed for south of the equator.

Had a great time in the UP. Got to play with some friends, went to some cool places, and got some time on Sand River. Can’t beat time on Sand River. Throw in some pasties from Jean Kay’s, and fresh whitefish from Thill’s, and you got about as good time as you can have without scrapple. Ticks and mosquitoes seemed a bit worse this year. We use our gin and tonics to knock back the threat of malaria and the limes helped to keep scurvy in check too.

Made it to the McCormick Tract a couple times. One trip we only walked in a bit, trying for boreal chickadees. The second trip we hiked back to the site of the McCormick camp. We walked for six hours, birding and odonating, without seeing anyone else. On the first trip we saw a group of backpackers heading in as we were heading out. Their car was still there when we went back the second time but we saw no sign of them. No remains or anything. I assume the mosquitoes got them. The mosquitoes sucked them dry, the bears got the remaining meat, and the coyotes dragged the bones off, leaving us undisturbed on the trail. 

The McCormick Tract was the summer camp of the Cyrus McCormick family in the early part of the 20^th century. The camp was on White Deer Lake, and they owned several thousand acres surrounding the camp.

White Deer Lake.

Lodge remains.

Lodge remains.

Hard to imagine outfitting a camp consisting of a couple large family lodges, servants and servant’s quarters, and ancillary buildings, that far back in the boonies,. The trail back to the camp was once a road bed but you can tell it wasn’t much of a road. Even the paved road up the old Peshekee Railway grade to the McCormick trail head is nothing to brag about. Big rocks stick up out of the macadam road surface. Bigfoot is reported to live along the road.

Tracks along the Peshekee Grade. He lives.

The UP is an interesting place. Where else are you going to overhear a diner conversation that goes, “He shot that bear in the ass he did.” Not in Okemos for damn sure. The UP has an independent streak I like. I think comes from living in a tough environment. If it was easy anyone could do it, right? The place reminds me of Arivoca out in the Arizona desert. When you live in a place like that you don’t care much about what the rest of the world thinks.

Down the road from the cabin there is Lakenenland. You might call it folk art or you might call it a blight on the landscape. All depends on your point of view. Some people saw the Irish Republican Army as freedom fighters, others saw them as terrorists.

The guy that owns Lakenenland is a metal worker and likes to make scrap metal sculptures. So he is either a recycling artist or a crackpot. The categories are not mutually exclusive I guess. Apparently he lived in Harvey, the Okemos of the greater Marquette metropolitan area. The good people of Harvey leaned a little more towards the crackpot description. So he had a multiple year battle with his neighbors and the Chocolay Township administration over his artwork. Eventually he bought land near the cabin and set up Lakenenland. Enough tacky statues to make any folk art aficionado happy. He even built a boardwalk trail through a wetland area. Everyone is welcome and Finns in particular. With the exception of some Chocolay Township officials. Serving on a Township zoning board must be about as much fun as a colonoscopy.