9.18.6
Machinac Brdge
Left Ruth MacFarlane’s house in Mass City about noon Saturday in a light rain. By the time I made Chris & Horse’s place in Deerton about sundown, it was blowing a gale from the south. About midnight the power went off. We sat on the porch for a while watching the lightning and trees bending. Power was on by morning, though it was still blowing warm from the south, but not as bad.
When in Marquette on the way up, my friends and I tried to call Steve Heightman, the fellow I was searching for near Ontonagon off Lake Shore Rd. On arrival Saturday night, Steve had called back and left a message with Chris & Horse; he had been out of town. The reason I was trying to reach him was the hope that he might be in touch with Jimmy Traver, a mutual friend I lost track of about 20 years ago. Turns out Jimmy
Munising Moose Lodge (link)
was up from where he lives near Austin camping right in the Mass City area the same time I was there! Too bad we didn’t connect, but at least I have a number for reaching him that I wouldn’t have if I hadn’t gone to Ruth.
King's Fish Market (link)
Left Deerton about 1000. Had Sunday breakfast at the Moose Lodge in Munising. Cut along some back roads over through Curtis. Popped out on U.S. 2 having forgotten about the regular Sunday afternoon parade of trolls L.P. bound. Jumped off on a back road running north of Brevort Lake to 123 near Moran. Stopped at King’s Fish Market and bought a bunch of smoked fish, which I enjoyed some of on a pic nic table behind the St. Ignace Moose Lodge.
Stopped on both sides of the Strait to shoot the bridge.
Decided to take 23 over to 27 and check out Mullet Lake on the way to Indian River. Arrived at Frank Helle’s just before dark. Frank is getting ready to close his place up and head down state. He plans to stay with his sister, Cynthia while undergoing treatment for HepC.
9.16.6
It is nearly midnight on the 15th. I plan to leave Mass City tomorrow for Marquette and beyond as I begin to ease south. Joe wants me in Ypsi for his big 5-0. I wish he was having it somewhere else and tried to get him to go to E. TN or something.
9.15.6
Atop Mass Bluff
Bucky checking out the view
Today I hiked the Bluff again behind Ruth’s house. The colors have changed and the view is stunning. I sat from late afternoon into sunset reading and taking pictures as the light changed.
The Bluff brought back memories of a certain shady knoll I often visited as a child. My first climb to the high grassy knoll began in an early morning dream— a trip up through a long forest trail to an opening, with a view; dark woods surrounded the clearing on three sides, and off from the heights toward the south lay a checkerboard of farmlands. During my school days though. the grassy knoll only existed in mindspace; I journeyed often to that pastoral retreat, the breeze below a my face, a long piece of grass in my teeth, and the drone of distant tractors working the fields; it was my refuge when the world pressed in too closely.
Mass City backs right up to the bluff. It is a volcanic upthrust boundary showing a face easily 200 feet tall. A festival of fall foliage drips from outcroppings. Along the backside, a lane winds through the dark forest with ravines and washes exposing rocks as big as buildings. The path rises up onto a bald south-facing ledge; the foot of the bluff is traced by an old railroad grade that once hauled the finest copper in the world 13 miles to waiting ships in the Ontonagon Harbor; the right-of-way is now one of many that chris-cross the region used by 4 wheelers and snowmobiles. Spreading out below is all of Mass City, with far roads reaching in and out that seem as seen more from an airplane than terra-forma.
The view from Mass City bluff seems to stretch 50 miles— gently rolling hills brightly painted with reds and oranges against emerald evergreens and shown vividly beneath a golden orb in a cobalt heaven. Powdery wisps ride a wind-blown warmth sweeping clean the wide perch beneath me, the top of the ledge gouged and scored with long intersecting lines echoing the face of Mars. Bucky likes the view, sitting face to the wind at the very edge, her butt gradually slipping until she nonchalantly moves back 6 inches and starts the slide again. I ignore her as long as I can, until my palms sweat and fingers tingle and I become dizzy with vicarious vertigo.
From the heights I can see Joan Johnson’s farm. I was there yesterday thinking of her daughter, Carol on her birthday. Wood cutters invited me along while they gleaned tree-tops for firewood that have been left by clear cutters. I recalled Carol’s mother’s concern that the forest near her home might be mowed right to the edge of the property spoiling the view.
I asked if we were near the Johnson place. “Evardt Johnson? You Betcha. Right down that little trail.” I followed a four-wheeler track a very short distance into the corner of a field. Joan Johnson’s house was on the other side. In the far corner, a big buck slowly raised his head beneath the weight of a huge rack. He surveyed us in complete stillness for many moments until Bucky finally sat, only then lowering his head to continue browsing.
Nearby your Joan’s house, where the gleaners were working was a tree cutting machine the size of a large track hoe. The boom is fitted with tree-hugging arms; at the end of the boom an hydraulic cutter shaves them off razor clean at the base. The sight of it somehow pleased me: it had burned! About 3 weeks ago the fire department had rushed out to the site, but was unable to save it. The operator had escaped unhurt. However, the monster had already done its duty; hundreds of acres had been laid waste and left in a tangle of smaller trees mowed down in the way, and the tops of those that had logs of value.
Still, from the top of the bluff, the clear-cut was over the hill and easy to think of as a distant memory. The weather was warm. Though the sun had dipped behind Ridge Road, I was still comfortable reading beneath the long light of sunset until a noise in the trees alarmed Bucky. I realized that the wind was blowing in from the south, carrying our scent into the woods. If there were bears on the one side of us, there was only cliff on the other. With a flashlight in hand, we tipped-toed back into the forest, but it was only dusk beneath the canopy and it made for a nice walk back into town.
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9.12.6
Bucky and I walked over to the Adventure Mine. From Ruth’s house, it is about a 5 mile drive, but if one goes along the trail the miners once walked from the town of Mass, it’s only 1/2 mile. It is a pretty trail that goes around the end of the bluff. A trail that leaves that trail is the one that takes you to the top of the bluff.
Along the way we met a woman on the ground scraping. Beside her was a metal detector. She said she was unemployed and looking for enough copper to sell to buy some gas. There is still copper around to be found.
Outside the Adventure Mine, 2 men were sitting in a pavilion. The fellow named Dave was a tour guide and his friend Wayne was visiting from Charlevoix. I mentioned that I had just driven up a few days before from near Charlevoix— and that I had cousins on 6 Mile Lake Rd.
Wayne said he had cousins on 6 Mile Lake Rd.
Told Wayne my cousins’ family name is Russell.
Wayne said his last name is Russell! Turns out we are cousins-in-law! What a hoot. We made plans to connect when I headed back south.
Bucky was allowed to come on the tour of the mine! She liked it too. We took the $10 tour which lasted about an hour. We walked through the mine as the guide described the lives of the miners. The miners had to buy their own candles— so they ate lunch in the dark. I found a rock with a small piece of pure copper gleaming in it. Bucky was interested in the bats. At the far end of the tour, an all-terrain-bus takes you back to the entrance of the mine.
There is another tour I’d like to take some time— it’s a 1/2 day tour. You pack a lunch and use some climbing gear to go down inside the deeper part of the mine. As I understand how they mined, the shaft went down to the lowest part first. Then as they mine closer to the surface, they let the spoils fall into the already mined areas.
You would think that pure copper would be very profitable to mine, but it’s not. It’s hard to extract because it won’t break up. The veins must be drilled out and it’s hard on men and equipment. And it’s said that the technology used didn’t extract all the copper from the spoils. There is talk now and then of reopening the mines and reprocessing the spoils.
The woman was going when we walked back through the woods to Ruth’s.
9.11.6
'Click' to see Mass City webcam
Today I walked up onto the bluff overlooking town. What a view!! Probably can see for 30 miles. Didn’t take a camera. I should have. The colors are changing fast across the area and I’m hoping to get up there again before I head south.
Tomorrow I hope to take a tour of the Adventure Mine in Greenland.
9.10.6
The folks here are very friendly and everyone waves. My mother’s best friend is 86 and still lives on her own in Mass City— the village is one of those unincorporated former mining communities. Perhaps you are familiar with the Adventure Mine? The raw copper from this area is the purest in the world— so pure in fact, it is expensive to extract because it will not break apart for easy mining.
Ruth MacFarlane and my mother became friends and both attended EMU in their 40s while starting new lives after marriage. Ruth is a botanist. She taught at Eastern before retiring to the north country. When my mother died, I went through the names in her address book and notified each of the folks I recognized with a personal message. The letter to Ruth initiated a correspondence that has continued for 9 years. My wanderings have finally brought me in this direction just in time for a spectacular Fall color season. Ruth is enjoying great health and works part time at the local library. She also is well educated and very sharp. Our evenings have been filled with late and lively discussions!
Ruth grew up on Thomas Rd. in a portion of Pittsfield Township that I believe is now known as *the Preserve*. Turns out Tina Lerones, Jim Walters, and Jan Ben-Dohr (sp?) are mutual acquaintances. She follows *developments* there with interest and belongs also to the Pittsfield Township Historical Society.
'Click' for live view if of Mass City, MI
9.6.6
Ruth's house. Mass Bluff in background
Ruth's house. Mass Bluff in background
Mass City
Greetings from the shores of Gitchee Gumee and the lands of northern lights!
I am visiting a small hamlet called Mass City, an old copper mining village about 15 miles from Ontonagon. Copper has been mined here for 5000 years! No one knows who the first miners were, but copper from the Keweenau region has been uncovered throughout Meso-America. The raw copper found near this place is the finest in the World— nearly pure, which I’m told is a problem because it bends instead of breaking apart— making it expensive to get from the ground.
I came here to visit my mother’s best friend, 86 year old Ruth MacFarlane who lives on her own and, I’m delighted to report, still works at the library. Ruth also walks everyday instead of driving— something that I’m sure contributes to her remarkably good health! She is well educated and lively and our discussion range widely.
A Summer Full of Adventure
I began a trek in this direction about the end of June when Joe Golder invited me to travel with him to Jeff Porter’s farm near Alden, MI which is on a hill above the east shore of Torch Lake. After 3 weeks there, I meandered over to see old friends in the S.E. corner of Leelanau County (Traverse City); one of whom is quite a fisherman. I had to suffer eating all the Lake Michigan salmon I could for 3 weeks and never became tired of it!
August 22nd, I began driving north again. But I only made 30 miles before my car conked out in Central Lake. I have a deaf cousin living on an old family farm a few miles from there, and though I hadn’t visited the place in 40 years, I had a pretty good idea of where it was and started out on foot just after dark looking for it. The first 3 miles were straight up Bunkerhill Rd. At the top, some folks offered me a ride who knew my cousin and right where she lived. Jan was home and up and very surprised! The disruption in my travels was simply caused by a faulty fuel pump— which is no longer located on the side of the motor; the fuel pump, once a 30 minute change out, is now placed inside the fuel tank. With do-it-yourself optimism, I was able to make it a 3 day job. The unplanned reunion brought brought my cousin and me very close again.
An afternoon drive from Jan’s farm got me up to the home of a childhood best friend living in the woods near Alanson. Frank Helle quit smoking since I visited in 2002, something he misses, but I certainly do not! This one was a planned reunion and Frank has a nice little guest house. I showed up with fried green tomato fixin’s and pork chops. We talked late into the night about old days and new.
The following morning, my car again failed to start! I became concerned about the state of my vehicle and whether I should even be attempting a land voyage to a place another 300 miles west of Big Mac. However, some quick tests revealed the problem was a faulty ignition module and I was carrying a spare. Took longer to make a tool to for removing the module than it did to accomplish the actual replacement. Since then, my little car has run perfectly. Pretty lucky really that this most recent mechanical delay occurred in a friend’s driveway with all the resources needed close at hand.
But the ignition problem at Frank’s ate up half the day, and by the time I reached the St. Ignace Moose Lodge I was ready to stop. I pulled around back and a gruff sounding fellow came out of a trailer demanding to see my card. When I told him my dog and me might sleep in the car after a few beers rest, he showed me to a delightful little *tear-drop* trailer no one was using right there in the Moose campground; he told me to throw a contribution into the children’s activities fund and make ourselves comfortable for the night. Yup. I wasn’t in the L.P. anymore!
At day break I was on the road looking for friends from 25 years ago, builder types that lived in small hovels beside the Laughing Whitefish River in Deerton, between Munising and Marquette. Though still quaint, I had trouble recognizing the place! The hovels are gone and nice houses have been constructed in their places— along with a big guest house over a huge garage. I had hoped Chris and Horse might put us up for a night. They told me folks were already in the guest house and other friends were on their way up from Chicago and that I might like to join them all for their Labor Day weekend festivities! I bedded beside the babbling river for 3 of the best nights’ sleep in my life!
Normally, it is a couple hours drive from Marquette to Ontonagon, but I continued to stop at every yard sale I passed, even though I hadn’t bought anything since finding a nice shirt near Pelliston. My car is already rather full, so I passed up quite a few nice items for want of space.
Days are warm here in Mass City, but the nights often drop into the 30s. It has also been dry and the trees are turning early— which is a delight for me! In 2002 Fall was warm and wet and the trees never did change. In Traverse City during the fourth week of October that year, things went from green to white— stunning though disappointing.
Well, that’s the news from the Lake In The Clouds region! This looks like it will be the northern and western most extent of my travels for this year.
9.4.6
Photo credit: Lk Superior Regional Blog
Old Marquette Post Card
Photo credit: Lk Superior Regional Blog
Old Marquette Post Card
Travel
I met up with my friends, Chris and Horse and they have invited me to stay with them in Deerton for the holiday weekend (near Marquette), and enjoy the *festivities*.
On the first day, I volunteered to go to Munising fix their boat motor. The starter bendix was jammed into the fly wheel and the fuel system had lost its prime.
On the second day, *festivities* included changing a water heater in an old apartment building in Ishpleming.
Labor Day evening I was invited to a really nice block party in a downtown Marquette neighborhood.
Photography
My camera is a Sony Cyber-Shot, 8 mega pixel DSLR. It has 2 storage chips inside. One has 2 gigabytes, the other, 8— for a total storage capacity of 10 gigs. I can take about 400 high quality pictures before I must upload onto a computer. It is a good camera with many features— some I haven’t used yet.
Sold! $3.75k!
eBay
The eBay auction for Joe Golder’s Airstream trailer finished up on Labor Day. A fellow in MN paid $3.7k! Not bad for a $2k investment. The fellow is planning to drive down and pick it up.