Hancock Recreation Area
Tuesday, 30 and Wednesday, 31 July 2019
On Tuesday I went into town for groceries and found my new favorite grocery store: Pat's IGA Foods. Locally owned, with a great selection.
I also found many sorority and fraternity houses, though I don't know whether they're for Finlandia University or Michigan Technological University, both of which are in Houghton. The frat houses were in Hancock, though, confirming to me that these act like the same city much of the time.
Almost all of these two days has been spent trying to catch up with my blog. What's really been slowing me down, though, isn't me but the internet service. I'd heard before I came to the UP that internet connections can be spotty, but the connection map my hot spot techs sent me (when I was in Maine having trouble connecting) shows the Hancock/Houghton area to be a really good spot, which is why I came here in the first place.
Maybe so, but the connection operates as slowly as dial-up did, and if you remember how slow that was, you have a measure of the level of my frustration. It takes a minimum of 6 minutes to download even one photo, which has been seriously slowing things up and giving me headaches.
I wanted very much to do some traveling around this area. My friend Phil suggested I go up to Copper Harbor at the tip of the Keweenaw Peninsula, and also that the state campground at Gogebic Lake is very peaceful and relaxing. Unfortunately, I couldn't find an available campsite at either place, plus I was worried about the internet connection I might get at either place. It's bad enough here where it's supposed to be great, and the one thing I really wanted to do in these last few days is catch up on my blog.
So I ended up staying in this campground. I had to change campsites, which is just as well as the first one I had had enough of a slope to make sleeping a real challenge. The second one is much more level but the water connection, which I wanted because I've been draining my water tank, is too far away for my hose to stretch.
Fortunately, as I was trying to back in close enough to reach, my neighbors stopped walking their dogs and not only helped me back in, but also loaned me an extra water hose because even going in crooked didn't get me close enough for an ordinary hose length. They said their site didn't have a water connection and, since I'm leaving before they are, I could borrow it no problem.
Nice folks. Nancy and Mickey from Tallahassee, FL. They're escaping the summer heat and doing a slow tour of the Lake Superior coast. Mickey told me later that they've been camping for 60 years, first with a VW van that he converted into a camper, later with the VW pop-up camper, and they've evolved over the years to their current Class A. They have 2 elderly dogs, Ginger and Lily who's nearly blind. They've apparently been in this area before and knew that the local garage owner also owned an RV, so they got him to send out some help to figure out why first their DVD player and then their TV stopped working. Apparently the kid, who was barely old enough to drive, who came out figured it out - kids seem to know all about electronics.
It's now way after my bedtime but I've finally gotten all the daily posts done for Michigan. I still have the monthly summary to go, but I can do that later. I'm sure I got behind because I allowed too little time for posting during my travels.
One of the big lessons I've learned this month is that I have the stamina to travel day after day, but not to do that and write about it too. Even with a good internet connection (so downloading photos isn't like a slow death), I can only do 2 or 3 postings in a day, and I need the best part of a day to figure out where I'm going next and where I'm going to stay and how I'm going to get there. In other words, I need a minimum of two days in the campground for every two or three days I travel, and preferably a day in between each day of traveling.
That would severely limit what I can see, but that's happened anyway with me having to miss this whole western part of the UP just so I can catch up. Something to keep in mind for this next month and see how it works out.
Wednesday, July 31, 2019
Michigan - Day 29 - Presque Isle, Iron Museum, to Hancock
Hancock Recreation Area, Hancock
Monday, 29 July 2019
The Marquette campground is on the Dead River, which sounds awful but is actually very much alive as far as I can tell and very pretty.
As often happens after a weekend, the dumpster was full. But for the first time in all these many months, I found that this campground posted several signs saying: Dumpster full, please deposit bagged trash in truck. And there was a pickup truck parked right next to the dumpster, which is where I put my trash. I've never seen such a sensible choice. All the other campgrounds, in every state, just wait for the service to come while letting the trash pile way higher than the top of the dumpster, often falling out on the ground.
Presque Isle Park
This park is what you might call the crown jewel of Marquette. It's on the immediate edge of town and isn't an island at all, but instead is a small peninsula out into Lake Superior. About a hundred years ago, Frederick Law Olmstead, designer of NYC's Central Park, was in town for something else and the town fathers inveigled him out to the area, hoping he'd tell them how to develop it. Instead he said, basically, Don't touch it. Amazingly enough, they took his advice.
There's one 1-lane road around the perimeter of the peninsula with small pullouts at frequent intervals. There are trails for pedestrians only and specific times of the week when no vehicles at all are allowed in the park - pedestrians only.
At the entrance there're a few picnic tables. There's a small beach area. Dogs are allowed only if they're kept in an enclosed vehicle. Apparently they're supposed to charge an entrance fee, but nobody was around shortly after 8:00 this morning when we got there, so I got in free. It's a lovely place, heavily wooded throughout the interior. For those who enjoy hiking (without dogs) or jogging (I saw one), it'd be a great place to go.
Back in town
Just outside the park is this dock that I thought, at first, was closed down. Then I noticed a whole line of rail cars the length of the dock, but still thought they were just left over from the old days.
There's a sign saying "Cliffs Ore Dock, 100 years of service 1912-2012." So I figured it was closed several years ago until I got around to the other side.
There was a huge cargo ship there, belonging to the Erie Trader Co., which is who owned that ship I saw at Soo Locks the other day (odd coincidence). And that ship wasn't left over from the olden days because the white stuff you can see in this photo above the ship is steam clouds - active clouds of steam rising from the ship.
On the other side of the road is a huge plant of some kind, and I'm wondering if it maybe processes iron ore and sends it over to the dock on a conveyor, which I think is what I drove under. All speculation, though.
You can see in these photos how low the clouds are. Not an auspicious beginning to the day.
We went from there to a laundromat, Loads of Fun Laundromat (what a name), that was a little spendy but still very decent. Modern, clean, with the very pleasant and helpful owner hanging around to help explain these foreign-built machines to me.
From there we went down the road to the small town of Negaunee, which calls itself Iron Town USA. It's the home of the Michigan Iron Industry Museum.
Michigan Iron Industry Museum
Michigan had 3 iron deposit ranges: the Gogebic, 1883-1967; the Menomie 1873-1978; the Marquette 1846-present.
The Civil War greatly increased the Union's need for iron, but increasingly there was no labor available because the workers went to war.
From the beginning, labor came primarily from Europe. First were the Cornish, followed by the Irish, French Canadians and Germans. Eventually, over 40 nationalities were represented in the Michigan mines, including Scandinavians - especially the Finns, Italians, Poles, Hungarians, Russians, Croatians, Poles, and Austrians. They worked 6 days/week and fueled the Industrial Revolution.
Back on the road
When I turned the corner and started running up the Keweenaw Peninsula, the body of water I was seeing was the Keweenaw Bay off Lake Superior. The water seemed multicolored, though that doesn't show up in this photo (below).
I passed a business called Superior Screed Service. I thought a screed was something like a harangue so can't imagine what this business was about.
Again, there were strong side winds, even though we'd changed direction from west to north.
I passed cornfields and tree farms.
The town of Chassell says it's the Home of the Strawberry Festival, which sadly was in early July.
I passed a Maranatha Church, which I wouldn't have expected to find up here.
I turned west again and came to Houghton, Birthplace of Professional Hockey, they say. it's also the home of Finlandia University, which should tell you something about the ethnic background of the settlers in this area.
Just over the bridge crossing Portage Lake is Hancock. As far as I can tell, the difference between the two is the bridge over the lake. And the lake, at that point, isn't a lake - it's more a river that runs from Portage Lake into Lake Superior on the west side of Keweenaw Peninsula.
Tonight's campground is on this sort-of lake, owned by the town of Hancock. The campground flies both an American flag and the flag of Finland at the office.
In case I haven't already said this, the Upper Peninsula has the highest concentration of Finns outside Europe, and it has the only US counties where a plurality of the residents have Finnish ancestors. Which I suppose explains the flag.
Monday, 29 July 2019
 |
| today's route |
As often happens after a weekend, the dumpster was full. But for the first time in all these many months, I found that this campground posted several signs saying: Dumpster full, please deposit bagged trash in truck. And there was a pickup truck parked right next to the dumpster, which is where I put my trash. I've never seen such a sensible choice. All the other campgrounds, in every state, just wait for the service to come while letting the trash pile way higher than the top of the dumpster, often falling out on the ground.
Presque Isle Park
This park is what you might call the crown jewel of Marquette. It's on the immediate edge of town and isn't an island at all, but instead is a small peninsula out into Lake Superior. About a hundred years ago, Frederick Law Olmstead, designer of NYC's Central Park, was in town for something else and the town fathers inveigled him out to the area, hoping he'd tell them how to develop it. Instead he said, basically, Don't touch it. Amazingly enough, they took his advice.
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| Sunset Point at Presque Isle |
At the entrance there're a few picnic tables. There's a small beach area. Dogs are allowed only if they're kept in an enclosed vehicle. Apparently they're supposed to charge an entrance fee, but nobody was around shortly after 8:00 this morning when we got there, so I got in free. It's a lovely place, heavily wooded throughout the interior. For those who enjoy hiking (without dogs) or jogging (I saw one), it'd be a great place to go.
Back in town
 |
| Cliffs Ore Dock |
There's a sign saying "Cliffs Ore Dock, 100 years of service 1912-2012." So I figured it was closed several years ago until I got around to the other side.
There was a huge cargo ship there, belonging to the Erie Trader Co., which is who owned that ship I saw at Soo Locks the other day (odd coincidence). And that ship wasn't left over from the olden days because the white stuff you can see in this photo above the ship is steam clouds - active clouds of steam rising from the ship.
On the other side of the road is a huge plant of some kind, and I'm wondering if it maybe processes iron ore and sends it over to the dock on a conveyor, which I think is what I drove under. All speculation, though.
You can see in these photos how low the clouds are. Not an auspicious beginning to the day.
We went from there to a laundromat, Loads of Fun Laundromat (what a name), that was a little spendy but still very decent. Modern, clean, with the very pleasant and helpful owner hanging around to help explain these foreign-built machines to me.
From there we went down the road to the small town of Negaunee, which calls itself Iron Town USA. It's the home of the Michigan Iron Industry Museum.
Michigan Iron Industry Museum
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| how iron was formed |
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| early use |
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| Michigan's iron deposits |
Michigan had 3 iron deposit ranges: the Gogebic, 1883-1967; the Menomie 1873-1978; the Marquette 1846-present.
The Civil War greatly increased the Union's need for iron, but increasingly there was no labor available because the workers went to war.
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| rapids that inspired the Soo Locks |
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| early strap railroad |
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| slide rules: a special calculator (this is how I got this over the explanation) |
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| labor issues |
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| explains the slide rules |
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| WWII effect |
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| the new product |
From the beginning, labor came primarily from Europe. First were the Cornish, followed by the Irish, French Canadians and Germans. Eventually, over 40 nationalities were represented in the Michigan mines, including Scandinavians - especially the Finns, Italians, Poles, Hungarians, Russians, Croatians, Poles, and Austrians. They worked 6 days/week and fueled the Industrial Revolution.
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| the difference 100 years makes |
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| legal milestone for the tribes |
Back on the road
When I turned the corner and started running up the Keweenaw Peninsula, the body of water I was seeing was the Keweenaw Bay off Lake Superior. The water seemed multicolored, though that doesn't show up in this photo (below).
 |
| Keweenaw Bay off Lake Superior |
Again, there were strong side winds, even though we'd changed direction from west to north.
I passed cornfields and tree farms.
The town of Chassell says it's the Home of the Strawberry Festival, which sadly was in early July.
I passed a Maranatha Church, which I wouldn't have expected to find up here.
I turned west again and came to Houghton, Birthplace of Professional Hockey, they say. it's also the home of Finlandia University, which should tell you something about the ethnic background of the settlers in this area.
Just over the bridge crossing Portage Lake is Hancock. As far as I can tell, the difference between the two is the bridge over the lake. And the lake, at that point, isn't a lake - it's more a river that runs from Portage Lake into Lake Superior on the west side of Keweenaw Peninsula.
Tonight's campground is on this sort-of lake, owned by the town of Hancock. The campground flies both an American flag and the flag of Finland at the office.
In case I haven't already said this, the Upper Peninsula has the highest concentration of Finns outside Europe, and it has the only US counties where a plurality of the residents have Finnish ancestors. Which I suppose explains the flag.
Michigan - Day 28
Marquette Tourist Court
Sunday, 28 July 2019
There are several things I'd like to see in the Marquette area, but I'm almost 10 days behind in my blog posts and am almost desperate to catch up before I go to Wisconsin. I took a look at the map and decided I'd have time tomorrow to go to these places on my way from this campground to my next one in Hancock.
Our campsite was slightly buried among other sites, but I figured out a route for the dogs and me to come and go without causing a riot, so we could take regular walks. Other than that, I spent the day working on the catch-up postings. Didn't get nearly as far as I'd hoped, but I don't want to skimp on them too, just because it's inconvenient. It's hard enough for me to remember things now, even with my fairly extensive notes. I sure wouldn't want to try to do it several months from now.
Sunday, 28 July 2019
There are several things I'd like to see in the Marquette area, but I'm almost 10 days behind in my blog posts and am almost desperate to catch up before I go to Wisconsin. I took a look at the map and decided I'd have time tomorrow to go to these places on my way from this campground to my next one in Hancock.
Our campsite was slightly buried among other sites, but I figured out a route for the dogs and me to come and go without causing a riot, so we could take regular walks. Other than that, I spent the day working on the catch-up postings. Didn't get nearly as far as I'd hoped, but I don't want to skimp on them too, just because it's inconvenient. It's hard enough for me to remember things now, even with my fairly extensive notes. I sure wouldn't want to try to do it several months from now.
Michigan - Day 27 - Munising and Marquette
Marquette Tourist Park, Marquette
Saturday, 27 July 2019
By the 2nd morning, the ants had shown up at the campground and, added to the Mayflies, I was just as glad to be getting back on the road.
On the road
I spent much of the morning's drive going through the Hiawatha National Forest. Very pretty.
Almost no traffic. Many French radio stations.
I passed the turnoff for the Taquemahnon Falls and was sorry to have to do that. The falls are considered one of UP's more scenic attractions; they're the largest falls east of the Mississippi, other than Niagara of course. I'd thought a week on the Upper Peninsula would be enough to hit the high spots, but now I find even 10 days might not have been enough for that. There's a lot to see up here.
Looked like some insect has been killing trees up along here - you'd have thought it was a fire except some weren't touched.
I kept finding really strong squirrely winds that made it hard to stay on the road at times.
One of the highway clean-up crews is Newbury High's advanced biology class. Good idea. Surprised others haven't thought of that. Though I don't know if all schools offer advanced biology these days - they didn't when I was in high school.
I passed parts of the forest that reminded me of tundra in Alaska. We're not anywhere near that far north here - only on about the level of Bismark, SD, and Helena, MT, and Olympia, WA - but that's still what it reminded me of. And the trees I'd see on Alaska's tundra - black spruce - looked much like these trees here look, though these are nowhere near as stunted as Alaska's.
Fire danger signs along the road all pointed to Very High today.
Lots of RVs on the road, for some reason.
Munising
I was very sorry not to be able to stay in the Munising area because it's near the Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore, which I'd hoped to visit. Unfortunately, this being a Saturday, I couldn't find any campsites available anywhere near. And I'd have had to stay a couple of days because the only real way to get to the rocks is via boat tour ($38), which I couldn't just run in and run out for. They also offer Glass Bottom Shipwreck Tours, per the signs. So, yet another thing for another visit to Michigan.
However, the road led me through Munising anyway and I decided to stop and try a pasty. This is like the pepperoni rolls in West Virginia - developed for the miners to eat underground.
A pasty - pronounced like patsy, only with the consonants reversed - is stew without the liquid wrapped in a dough. There are two types: the Finnish style with carrots, and the Cornish style without carrots. They both have ground beef (usually), onions, potatoes and rutabagas.
Some online review of the various offerings of pasties around the state said those at Muldoon's in Munising were among the best.
They also said people often ask for either catsup or gravy, but that locals scorn these additions. The nice ladies at Muldoon's, however, told me they personally used catsup with theirs, so I asked for that. I should have asked for gravy, though I didn't know that then.
Turns out these actually are exactly like stew without the liquid wrapped in a dough. They're big, too - I could only eat half of one for lunch. But I found them very dry, because to me stew really does need the liquid. Catsup didn't at all make up for it. Next time I'll know although, not being a miner, I'll probably just forego the dough and go straight for the stew in its ordinary form.
Back on the road
From now on I'm skirting the edges of Lake Superior and I catch glimpses of it now and then.
I thought I saw some cranes in a roadside marsh.
There's a Chocolay River and Township along here.
I stopped in a rest area and had a hard time parking because most of the spaces that had been set aside for RVs were being used by cars, even though there were plenty of car spaces available. I guess it's like people who park in handicap spaces - they don't realize their convenience is seriously inconveniencing someone else. In fact, I took the last RV slot and several others came in behind me and drove back out again.
Marquette
Marquette is proud of the Marquette High State Hockey Champions.
The town of Marquette is built on hills, with streets that go up and down even though it's right on Lake Superior. Of course I got lost.
I finally parked in the City Hall parking lot to get on the internet to get found again and was impressed by St. Peter's Cathedral right across the street.
And so to the campground, owned by the city and, based on its name, it's quite old. (Tourist courts are what they called campgrounds about 100 years ago.)
Saturday, 27 July 2019
 |
| today's route |
On the road
I spent much of the morning's drive going through the Hiawatha National Forest. Very pretty.
Almost no traffic. Many French radio stations.
I passed the turnoff for the Taquemahnon Falls and was sorry to have to do that. The falls are considered one of UP's more scenic attractions; they're the largest falls east of the Mississippi, other than Niagara of course. I'd thought a week on the Upper Peninsula would be enough to hit the high spots, but now I find even 10 days might not have been enough for that. There's a lot to see up here.
Looked like some insect has been killing trees up along here - you'd have thought it was a fire except some weren't touched.
I kept finding really strong squirrely winds that made it hard to stay on the road at times.
One of the highway clean-up crews is Newbury High's advanced biology class. Good idea. Surprised others haven't thought of that. Though I don't know if all schools offer advanced biology these days - they didn't when I was in high school.
I passed parts of the forest that reminded me of tundra in Alaska. We're not anywhere near that far north here - only on about the level of Bismark, SD, and Helena, MT, and Olympia, WA - but that's still what it reminded me of. And the trees I'd see on Alaska's tundra - black spruce - looked much like these trees here look, though these are nowhere near as stunted as Alaska's.
Fire danger signs along the road all pointed to Very High today.
Lots of RVs on the road, for some reason.
Munising
I was very sorry not to be able to stay in the Munising area because it's near the Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore, which I'd hoped to visit. Unfortunately, this being a Saturday, I couldn't find any campsites available anywhere near. And I'd have had to stay a couple of days because the only real way to get to the rocks is via boat tour ($38), which I couldn't just run in and run out for. They also offer Glass Bottom Shipwreck Tours, per the signs. So, yet another thing for another visit to Michigan.
However, the road led me through Munising anyway and I decided to stop and try a pasty. This is like the pepperoni rolls in West Virginia - developed for the miners to eat underground.
A pasty - pronounced like patsy, only with the consonants reversed - is stew without the liquid wrapped in a dough. There are two types: the Finnish style with carrots, and the Cornish style without carrots. They both have ground beef (usually), onions, potatoes and rutabagas.
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| a Finnish-style pasty |
Some online review of the various offerings of pasties around the state said those at Muldoon's in Munising were among the best.They also said people often ask for either catsup or gravy, but that locals scorn these additions. The nice ladies at Muldoon's, however, told me they personally used catsup with theirs, so I asked for that. I should have asked for gravy, though I didn't know that then.
Turns out these actually are exactly like stew without the liquid wrapped in a dough. They're big, too - I could only eat half of one for lunch. But I found them very dry, because to me stew really does need the liquid. Catsup didn't at all make up for it. Next time I'll know although, not being a miner, I'll probably just forego the dough and go straight for the stew in its ordinary form.
Back on the road
From now on I'm skirting the edges of Lake Superior and I catch glimpses of it now and then.
I thought I saw some cranes in a roadside marsh.
There's a Chocolay River and Township along here.
I stopped in a rest area and had a hard time parking because most of the spaces that had been set aside for RVs were being used by cars, even though there were plenty of car spaces available. I guess it's like people who park in handicap spaces - they don't realize their convenience is seriously inconveniencing someone else. In fact, I took the last RV slot and several others came in behind me and drove back out again.
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| Lake Superior |
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| migratory bird info |
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| near the rest area |
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| there are actual hills around here |
Marquette
Marquette is proud of the Marquette High State Hockey Champions.
The town of Marquette is built on hills, with streets that go up and down even though it's right on Lake Superior. Of course I got lost.
I finally parked in the City Hall parking lot to get on the internet to get found again and was impressed by St. Peter's Cathedral right across the street.
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| St. Peter's |
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| Indiana's not the only state with a tree in the bell tower |
Michigan - Day 26 - Sault Ste. Marie
Aune Osborn Campground
Friday, 26 July 2019
This campground is sandwiched between 2 boat launches. When the dogs and I were out for our second early walk (about 5:30), we found a circus going on at one of them. The William R. Gregory Boat Launch has 3 ramps, and they were all busy at once on a continuous basis. Apparently the pre-dawn fishing in the river is really really good. Later in the day I drove through the parking lot and counted 57 truck+trailer combos parked there.
In contrast, the Mission Street Boat Launch on the other side had nobody in the predawn, and later I counted only 17 truck+trailer combos parked there. I have no idea why the big difference, but there's obviously something.
Any sign of light - say, from my flashlight - draws enormous flying insects in mobs. There were piles of dead ones under the lights for the restrooms. The campground manager told me they're Mayflies, that they had just come in 4 days earlier and were a nuisance in her book. In mine, too. They cling to my clothes, to the dogs, to the sides of the RV, to the screens - and they really don't want to let go, for some reason.
The internet says they're related to dragonflies, as you can see. This photo I got online shows how big they are. Weird nuisance.
I drove back into town for a few hours today. I was desperate for a place to dump my recycling and the campground manager gave me really good directions to the one she uses. There's also a local grocery store on the way.
I found the recycling center easily, and so did many local residents - we were all taking turns dumping things in the various doors for glass, plastic, etc. But I feel 10 pounds lighter, and may be - even plastic adds up after a while and I haven't found a place to dump it all month. Every state since Virginia has been shy about recycling, though considering they're all on the interstate highway system, I don't understand why. Hope Wisconsin will be better about it.
For the third time since I got to town, I passed a "Historic Water Tower," according to its sign, so this time I turned around and went to check it out. Turns out it's not historic, it's old. But the town is obviously proud of it.
It was the only shady place I'd seen all morning, so we stopped to go for a neighborhood walk and have a little lunch. You can see a piece of the RV at the right of the sign photo.
I spent the rest of the day figuring out where we were going next and working on the blog. Seems like all I ever do any more, but I'm still way behind.
Friday, 26 July 2019
 |
| sunrise at the riverside campground |
In contrast, the Mission Street Boat Launch on the other side had nobody in the predawn, and later I counted only 17 truck+trailer combos parked there. I have no idea why the big difference, but there's obviously something.
 |
| Mayfly |
The internet says they're related to dragonflies, as you can see. This photo I got online shows how big they are. Weird nuisance.
I drove back into town for a few hours today. I was desperate for a place to dump my recycling and the campground manager gave me really good directions to the one she uses. There's also a local grocery store on the way.
I found the recycling center easily, and so did many local residents - we were all taking turns dumping things in the various doors for glass, plastic, etc. But I feel 10 pounds lighter, and may be - even plastic adds up after a while and I haven't found a place to dump it all month. Every state since Virginia has been shy about recycling, though considering they're all on the interstate highway system, I don't understand why. Hope Wisconsin will be better about it.
For the third time since I got to town, I passed a "Historic Water Tower," according to its sign, so this time I turned around and went to check it out. Turns out it's not historic, it's old. But the town is obviously proud of it.
It was the only shady place I'd seen all morning, so we stopped to go for a neighborhood walk and have a little lunch. You can see a piece of the RV at the right of the sign photo.I spent the rest of the day figuring out where we were going next and working on the blog. Seems like all I ever do any more, but I'm still way behind.
Michigan - Day 25 - Mackinaw City to Sault Ste. Marie
Aune Osborne Campground, Sault Ste. Marie
Thursday, 25 July 2019
Mackinac Bridge
As I mentioned a while back, there was no way I could drive across this bridge, given the extreme difficulty I had driving across the shorter Bay Bridge over the Chesapeake in northern Maryland. The Michigan DOT has online instructions for how to get one of their employees to drive you across, and I followed them. I waited in a parking area not far from the bridge for less than 10 minutes for a nice young man named Tim to come help me out.
The biggest problem I had with that drive was trying to explain to Dexter that, not only was I going to sit in his usual seat, but also I didn't want him to join me there. Otherwise, Tim turned out to be very chatty and I learned a lot in a fairly short drive over the nearly 5 miles of bridge. Built in 1957, it was the first connection, other than ferries, between the Upper and Lower Peninsulas and helped unite the state in more ways than one.
It's a toll bridge, with cars being charged $4 one way and RVs like mine were $5/axle - $10 for me. Since the only alternative was not visiting the Upper Peninsula, I was happy to pay it especially since, unlike in Maryland, I wasn't having to pay for the DOT driver.
We passed a Peregrine Falcon sitting on a bridge support, and Tim told me that they nest under the bridge. He said the highway dept. had noticed that there were several of them there, living on the pigeons that were willing to fly as far out as that, and decided to help them out by building nesting boxes for them. Now there are many raising their young there. They're one of the world's fastest birds and pigeons are no match for them.
I'd seen signs saying the bridge would close for the morning of Labor Day and asked about it. Tim said there's an annual walk for charity that day, with as many as 35,000 doing part or all the walk. He said in the past, they only closed half the bridge but, because of concerns about terrorists, they now closed the whole bridge to vehicles. The good part about that is that it allows people to walk only part-way over, not the whole 5 miles, and this opens up the event to disabled folks as well as regular folks that want to check out the view but don't want to go the distance.
St. Ignace
A mile on the other side of the bridge is the exit for the small town of St. Ignace, which also has ferry service over to Mackinac Island. I stopped there for the grocery store a quarter mile off the highway and 4 other RVs pulled in to the parking lot right after me. Other people thought it was a handy spot like I did.
I didn't take the time to run around the town, though I'm guessing it's much like Mackinaw City - plenty of local life but inundated with tourists in the summer.
On the road
I passed a large bison herd in a field.
I've been passing signs off and on along the Lake Huron coast that noted it was part of the Lake Huron Circle Tour. Turns out there are 4 of these tour routes in Michigan (which abuts 4 of the 5 Great Lakes), and the Lake Huron tour is the only one that includes only 2 districts: Michigan and Ontario (Canada). A look at the map showed me the reason: Lake Huron is entirely bounded by Michigan and Ontario. It's also the only tour that includes both of Michigan's peninsulas, and one of the 2 that includes the Mackinac Bridge.
As I drove north I found far more radio stations for the CBC (Canada) and that were French-speaking than regular American ones.
Sault Ste. Marie
Sault Ste. Marie (pronounced SOO-saint-mah-REE) is smack on the border between the two countries, or it would be if not for the St. Mary's River, part of the St. Lawrence Seaway. The town's connected by a toll bridge to the twin city of Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario. Not really twins, though, because the Canadian version has 73,000 residents while the Michigan version has 14,000. Cousins, maybe.
Soo Locks
I particularly wanted to visit the Soo Locks, justly famous in the boating world as one of the world's busiest locks. The facility is now guarded by Homeland Security folks who insisted on searching my purse; when I asked, the guard said they'd had no specific threats but an international shipping facility like this was considered a top area for terrorist protection.
The locks are needed because the St. Mary's River, which connects Lake Superior with Lake Huron, drops 21' in less than a mile right here. The resulting rapids meant every cargo ship (originally canoes) had to be portaged - not efficient shipping. Now the locks not only allow enormous cargo ships through, they also generate hydroelectric power at one plant in Canada, two plants at the locks, and one more farther downstream.
They have a large glassed-in viewing stand that lets visitors watch lock traffic. The lock nearest the view stand is the Macarthur Lock, built in 1943, 800' x 80' (I saw a sailboat and a locks tour boat coming through going uphill); the larger lock just beyond it is the Poe Lock, built 1969, 1200' x 110' (I saw the Erie Trader take up the whole space going downhill). There's a 3rd even larger lock planned to be built in the next decade.
This ship is so large, I could only get half of it at a time. The half you don't see is just as big as this half, if not bigger.
Most of Lake Superior's southern coast (the Upper Peninsula) is sandstone, which is 1000' thick here at the Soo Locks area, making building the locks an engineering feat requiring special equipment. They're currently planning a third, larger lock, and the building processes they'll use now should be very interesting.
Plenty of sturgeon and salmon use the river, too, but in general they prefer to fight the rapids, rather than use the locks.
Previously, the power of the outgoing water flushed fish eggs and fry out of the protected areas they needed to grow. These days, engineers have learned to automate the gate positions to reduce the impact on fish needs.
The locks use gravity, not pumps, to move millions of gallons of water through, allowing ships to rise or fall by the magic of natural forces to the level needed.
To the campground
Tonight's campground is owned by the city and isn't far from the center of town.
I passed the dock for the Soo Locks Boat Tours, a company that also offers lighthouse tours. I'd love to have the time to take both but don't see how I'll be able to take either.
I also passed the Aquatic Research Lab, with a sign saying they offer hatchery tours. Clearly, Sault Ste. Marie has a lot to offer someone with my interests and I wish the end of the month wasn't so near. I still have the entire Upper Peninsula to go.
Thursday, 25 July 2019
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| today's route |
As I mentioned a while back, there was no way I could drive across this bridge, given the extreme difficulty I had driving across the shorter Bay Bridge over the Chesapeake in northern Maryland. The Michigan DOT has online instructions for how to get one of their employees to drive you across, and I followed them. I waited in a parking area not far from the bridge for less than 10 minutes for a nice young man named Tim to come help me out.
The biggest problem I had with that drive was trying to explain to Dexter that, not only was I going to sit in his usual seat, but also I didn't want him to join me there. Otherwise, Tim turned out to be very chatty and I learned a lot in a fairly short drive over the nearly 5 miles of bridge. Built in 1957, it was the first connection, other than ferries, between the Upper and Lower Peninsulas and helped unite the state in more ways than one.
It's a toll bridge, with cars being charged $4 one way and RVs like mine were $5/axle - $10 for me. Since the only alternative was not visiting the Upper Peninsula, I was happy to pay it especially since, unlike in Maryland, I wasn't having to pay for the DOT driver.
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| Peregrine Falcon |
I'd seen signs saying the bridge would close for the morning of Labor Day and asked about it. Tim said there's an annual walk for charity that day, with as many as 35,000 doing part or all the walk. He said in the past, they only closed half the bridge but, because of concerns about terrorists, they now closed the whole bridge to vehicles. The good part about that is that it allows people to walk only part-way over, not the whole 5 miles, and this opens up the event to disabled folks as well as regular folks that want to check out the view but don't want to go the distance.
St. Ignace
A mile on the other side of the bridge is the exit for the small town of St. Ignace, which also has ferry service over to Mackinac Island. I stopped there for the grocery store a quarter mile off the highway and 4 other RVs pulled in to the parking lot right after me. Other people thought it was a handy spot like I did.
I didn't take the time to run around the town, though I'm guessing it's much like Mackinaw City - plenty of local life but inundated with tourists in the summer.
On the road
I passed a large bison herd in a field.
I've been passing signs off and on along the Lake Huron coast that noted it was part of the Lake Huron Circle Tour. Turns out there are 4 of these tour routes in Michigan (which abuts 4 of the 5 Great Lakes), and the Lake Huron tour is the only one that includes only 2 districts: Michigan and Ontario (Canada). A look at the map showed me the reason: Lake Huron is entirely bounded by Michigan and Ontario. It's also the only tour that includes both of Michigan's peninsulas, and one of the 2 that includes the Mackinac Bridge.
As I drove north I found far more radio stations for the CBC (Canada) and that were French-speaking than regular American ones.
Sault Ste. Marie
Sault Ste. Marie (pronounced SOO-saint-mah-REE) is smack on the border between the two countries, or it would be if not for the St. Mary's River, part of the St. Lawrence Seaway. The town's connected by a toll bridge to the twin city of Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario. Not really twins, though, because the Canadian version has 73,000 residents while the Michigan version has 14,000. Cousins, maybe.
Soo Locks
I particularly wanted to visit the Soo Locks, justly famous in the boating world as one of the world's busiest locks. The facility is now guarded by Homeland Security folks who insisted on searching my purse; when I asked, the guard said they'd had no specific threats but an international shipping facility like this was considered a top area for terrorist protection.
The locks are needed because the St. Mary's River, which connects Lake Superior with Lake Huron, drops 21' in less than a mile right here. The resulting rapids meant every cargo ship (originally canoes) had to be portaged - not efficient shipping. Now the locks not only allow enormous cargo ships through, they also generate hydroelectric power at one plant in Canada, two plants at the locks, and one more farther downstream.
They have a large glassed-in viewing stand that lets visitors watch lock traffic. The lock nearest the view stand is the Macarthur Lock, built in 1943, 800' x 80' (I saw a sailboat and a locks tour boat coming through going uphill); the larger lock just beyond it is the Poe Lock, built 1969, 1200' x 110' (I saw the Erie Trader take up the whole space going downhill). There's a 3rd even larger lock planned to be built in the next decade.
 |
| half the Erie Trader, before |
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| on its way down |
This ship is so large, I could only get half of it at a time. The half you don't see is just as big as this half, if not bigger.
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| evolution of unloading |
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| evolution of loading |
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| evolution of ship size |
 |
| not a year-round location |
Most of Lake Superior's southern coast (the Upper Peninsula) is sandstone, which is 1000' thick here at the Soo Locks area, making building the locks an engineering feat requiring special equipment. They're currently planning a third, larger lock, and the building processes they'll use now should be very interesting.
 |
| our Great Lakes: world's largest freshwater body |
Previously, the power of the outgoing water flushed fish eggs and fry out of the protected areas they needed to grow. These days, engineers have learned to automate the gate positions to reduce the impact on fish needs.
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| how Duluth, Minn., becomes an Atlantic seaport |
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| comparing the various water levels |
To the campground
Tonight's campground is owned by the city and isn't far from the center of town.
I passed the dock for the Soo Locks Boat Tours, a company that also offers lighthouse tours. I'd love to have the time to take both but don't see how I'll be able to take either.
I also passed the Aquatic Research Lab, with a sign saying they offer hatchery tours. Clearly, Sault Ste. Marie has a lot to offer someone with my interests and I wish the end of the month wasn't so near. I still have the entire Upper Peninsula to go.
Michigan - Day 24 - Mackinac Island
Mackinaw Mill Creek Campground
Wednesday, 24 July 2019
I planned to spend the morning on Mackinac Island, which required some advance planning. (By the way, the island's name is spelled Mackinac while the town's name is spelled Mackinaw City; both are pronounced MACK-in-aw. Go figure.)
Leaving the dogs for several hours is no small matter, because I didn't want Dexter to start barking when I walked away and left them in the RV, let alone later when other dogs walked by. I did the same thing I did in Indiana when I spent the morning at the flea market and antique sale - fixed Kongs with treats and peanut butter. I gave Lily some regular kitty treats and gave the Kongs to the dogs as I was walking out the door. I'm guessing they stay occupied long enough that they haven't gotten anxious by the time I get back.
I was one of the first to the shuttle bus stop, which made no difference by the time it got there because there were so many people wanting to go. The shuttle runs each hour beginning at 8:30, and it was so full there were quite a few people standing up for the drive. The driver on the return trip told me there'd been 104 on the 10:30 shuttle. I'm learning that an early start really can make a difference.
So many people were taking bicycles with them, the shuttle bus had a trailer attached just for the bikes. Mackinac Island allows no motorized transportation, which leaves only bicycles, horses and your feet. Thus, the ferries carry over almost as many bikes as people. Several people, including the captain, also brought dogs and I wished mine behaved well enough to do something like that. The ferry ticket was $23 for a round trip fare - I don't know if they even offer a one-way fare.
Several of the ferries, knowing they're mostly catering to tourists, make a detour under the Mackinac Bridge, which connects the Upper and Lower Peninsulas. Impressive bridge from any angle.
On the far right of that Round Island photo is a sailboat motoring out of the harbor. Going and coming we saw dozens doing the same thing. What was odd to me is that they all motored out a really long way - maybe they didn't want to try sailing under that bridge?
On the island I saw a huge bicycle-renting place right on the ferry dock with this sign (left) showing "the only highway in America where no cars are allowed"
There were also many many taxis (horse-drawn, of course) and carriage tours, and a place that allowed folks to rent their own horses or carriages. Free enterprise is alive and well on Mackinac Island. What isn't there is any industry, in the usual sense.
There are a number of fudge-making shops, something Mackinac Island is known for. My law school friend Phil, who grew up in Michigan, had told me about working in one of these fudge places as a summer job, but I couldn't remember the name of it. Since Phil's about my age, that narrowed it down to the few that were operating back then, and I tried 2 of them.
Inside, both shops were much the same. Both had marble tables on the right side where at times, though not when I was there, workers would make the fudge. Both had counters on the left side, like at an ice cream parlor, with various flavors of fudge displayed in pound-cake-like loaves.
I bought a slice of double dark chocolate fudge from each shop, not because I'm wildly crazy about fudge but so I could see if there was much difference. Turns out there was a huge difference, that even I could discern. The Murdick's fudge was hands-down the better of the 2, though I couldn't tell you exactly what made it so much better. It had a fuller, deeper flavor than Joann's and wasn't quite as sugary. Maybe that's all it was, but it was noticeable.
The woman at the counter in Joann's spoke English with a strong accent that I couldn't place. I'd heard other folks who either lived there or were summer workers who spoke a language I'd never heard and have no idea what it was. I would have asked the woman in Joann's, but another customer came in and I didn't want to wait just for that.
Besides the fudge, the other thing I wanted to see was the Grand Hotel, made famous (to me, anyway) in the movie Somewhere In Time. It was only a shortish walk (uphill) out of the main part of town, so I went. But didn't get to see the view I'd wanted because "exclusive" scarcely begins to describe this place.
There's a sign near the driveway entrance that describes their dress code: men must wear a coat and tie after 8:00 PM; women may not wear slacks. (I haven't been told I had to wear a dress since I went to a small Methodist college in the late '60s.) There was another sign that said there's a $10 charge to go inside the hotel, so I'd decided a walk outside would be just fine. Imagine my surprise when I was stopped before I'd even gotten near the building, by a very polite young man wearing an elaborate uniform, who asked if I were coming to register. When I said I just wanted to walk around the outside a bit, he said that would cost me $10, just for a stroll on the grounds. Absolutely not worth it in my book so back I went, taking nothing but photos, leaving not even my footprints (it was paved).
The church (left) is very near the hotel and is open only during the summer. Some nice stained glass windows and a small chapel.
The parsonage (right) isn't far down the street towards town. An example of some of the local architecture.
The entire town smells like horse manure. It was the first impression I had, before I even got off the ferry, and it stayed with me the whole time I was there. Not too surprising, when you see the number of horses they have in a small area, but they keep the streets well cleared - maybe they just need to hose them off several times a day. Still, I thought it detracted from the ambiance, though was maybe typical for late 19th/early 20th century living.
It was still early enough in the day that I saw quite a few locals out doing errands or making deliveries for their jobs. But mostly I saw tourists like me. One young man was wearing a t-shirt from Bristol Bay (Alaska) and I stopped him to ask if that's where he was from. When he said no, I told him I used to fish out there, and he and his father said that's what they'd gone out there for. I'm guessing, though, that they were there for sport fishing, not commercial fishing, because the father said, "It's so beautiful out there." I went out there for 8 seasons and I never once attached even the word "pretty" to the landscape there. But the sport fishermen go up the rivers farther into the interior, where it probably is quite pretty, while the commercial fishery is off the coast out in Bristol Bay itself, where the land that's visible is stark.
There were white caps on the water, which I think are the Mackinac Straits, between Lakes Huron and Michigan. Rough water meant a rougher passage than the previous one, and this particular ferry was one of the fast ones, with advertising that says: "High Tail It" to the island.
As we were coming in to the dock, we could see the mass of people waiting to board the next ferry - and it was indeed a mass. There must have been hundreds still waiting, even after the ferry had filled and left the dock. Glad I went early. What a mob scene they must have dumped on the island.
Back in the campground, the critters were delighted to see me, and I took the dogs out for a quick walk before lunch, then spent the afternoon, in between walks, figuring out where we were going next and how we were going to get there, and working on the blog.
This campground is mostly heavily wooded and has a number of campsites that run along a narrow beach along Lake Huron. Though we were somewhat buried in the campground, there weren't that many dogs near us and we were able to get out to open areas fairly easily for walking, especially at the safe times of the day (very early, 10ish, 3ish, and 6:15). By the end of this trip in 3 years or so, if I haven't wrung the dogs' necks, we'll all have figured this situation out.
Wednesday, 24 July 2019
 |
| today's route |
Leaving the dogs for several hours is no small matter, because I didn't want Dexter to start barking when I walked away and left them in the RV, let alone later when other dogs walked by. I did the same thing I did in Indiana when I spent the morning at the flea market and antique sale - fixed Kongs with treats and peanut butter. I gave Lily some regular kitty treats and gave the Kongs to the dogs as I was walking out the door. I'm guessing they stay occupied long enough that they haven't gotten anxious by the time I get back.
I was one of the first to the shuttle bus stop, which made no difference by the time it got there because there were so many people wanting to go. The shuttle runs each hour beginning at 8:30, and it was so full there were quite a few people standing up for the drive. The driver on the return trip told me there'd been 104 on the 10:30 shuttle. I'm learning that an early start really can make a difference.
So many people were taking bicycles with them, the shuttle bus had a trailer attached just for the bikes. Mackinac Island allows no motorized transportation, which leaves only bicycles, horses and your feet. Thus, the ferries carry over almost as many bikes as people. Several people, including the captain, also brought dogs and I wished mine behaved well enough to do something like that. The ferry ticket was $23 for a round trip fare - I don't know if they even offer a one-way fare.
Several of the ferries, knowing they're mostly catering to tourists, make a detour under the Mackinac Bridge, which connects the Upper and Lower Peninsulas. Impressive bridge from any angle.
 |
| about half the Mackinac Bridge |
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| lighthouse at Round Island |
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| view of Mackinac Island to the right of the ferry dock |
On the island I saw a huge bicycle-renting place right on the ferry dock with this sign (left) showing "the only highway in America where no cars are allowed"There were also many many taxis (horse-drawn, of course) and carriage tours, and a place that allowed folks to rent their own horses or carriages. Free enterprise is alive and well on Mackinac Island. What isn't there is any industry, in the usual sense.
There are a number of fudge-making shops, something Mackinac Island is known for. My law school friend Phil, who grew up in Michigan, had told me about working in one of these fudge places as a summer job, but I couldn't remember the name of it. Since Phil's about my age, that narrowed it down to the few that were operating back then, and I tried 2 of them.
 |
| Murdick's Fudge, since 1887 |
 |
| Joann's Fudge, since 1967 |
I bought a slice of double dark chocolate fudge from each shop, not because I'm wildly crazy about fudge but so I could see if there was much difference. Turns out there was a huge difference, that even I could discern. The Murdick's fudge was hands-down the better of the 2, though I couldn't tell you exactly what made it so much better. It had a fuller, deeper flavor than Joann's and wasn't quite as sugary. Maybe that's all it was, but it was noticeable.
 |
| outside the box |
 |
| (l) Joann's; (r) Murdick's |
Besides the fudge, the other thing I wanted to see was the Grand Hotel, made famous (to me, anyway) in the movie Somewhere In Time. It was only a shortish walk (uphill) out of the main part of town, so I went. But didn't get to see the view I'd wanted because "exclusive" scarcely begins to describe this place.
There's a sign near the driveway entrance that describes their dress code: men must wear a coat and tie after 8:00 PM; women may not wear slacks. (I haven't been told I had to wear a dress since I went to a small Methodist college in the late '60s.) There was another sign that said there's a $10 charge to go inside the hotel, so I'd decided a walk outside would be just fine. Imagine my surprise when I was stopped before I'd even gotten near the building, by a very polite young man wearing an elaborate uniform, who asked if I were coming to register. When I said I just wanted to walk around the outside a bit, he said that would cost me $10, just for a stroll on the grounds. Absolutely not worth it in my book so back I went, taking nothing but photos, leaving not even my footprints (it was paved).
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| UN & NATO start |
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| longest, largest, most |
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| side and rear of Grand Hotel |
 |
| Little Stone Church, c. 1904 |
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| church parsonage |
The church (left) is very near the hotel and is open only during the summer. Some nice stained glass windows and a small chapel.
The parsonage (right) isn't far down the street towards town. An example of some of the local architecture.
The entire town smells like horse manure. It was the first impression I had, before I even got off the ferry, and it stayed with me the whole time I was there. Not too surprising, when you see the number of horses they have in a small area, but they keep the streets well cleared - maybe they just need to hose them off several times a day. Still, I thought it detracted from the ambiance, though was maybe typical for late 19th/early 20th century living.
It was still early enough in the day that I saw quite a few locals out doing errands or making deliveries for their jobs. But mostly I saw tourists like me. One young man was wearing a t-shirt from Bristol Bay (Alaska) and I stopped him to ask if that's where he was from. When he said no, I told him I used to fish out there, and he and his father said that's what they'd gone out there for. I'm guessing, though, that they were there for sport fishing, not commercial fishing, because the father said, "It's so beautiful out there." I went out there for 8 seasons and I never once attached even the word "pretty" to the landscape there. But the sport fishermen go up the rivers farther into the interior, where it probably is quite pretty, while the commercial fishery is off the coast out in Bristol Bay itself, where the land that's visible is stark.
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| front of the Grand Hotel |
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| view to the left of the ferry dock |
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| the rooster tail |
As we were coming in to the dock, we could see the mass of people waiting to board the next ferry - and it was indeed a mass. There must have been hundreds still waiting, even after the ferry had filled and left the dock. Glad I went early. What a mob scene they must have dumped on the island.
Back in the campground, the critters were delighted to see me, and I took the dogs out for a quick walk before lunch, then spent the afternoon, in between walks, figuring out where we were going next and how we were going to get there, and working on the blog.
This campground is mostly heavily wooded and has a number of campsites that run along a narrow beach along Lake Huron. Though we were somewhat buried in the campground, there weren't that many dogs near us and we were able to get out to open areas fairly easily for walking, especially at the safe times of the day (very early, 10ish, 3ish, and 6:15). By the end of this trip in 3 years or so, if I haven't wrung the dogs' necks, we'll all have figured this situation out.
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