Sunday, January 29, 2012

Cabin Fever?!

When Tracy and I made the northern migration to Skandia last June there was plenty to be excited about with just a few reservations. Those "few" virtually all centered around how we'd fare living at the end of a country road in the middle of the U.P.'s "snowbelt." Having grown up in the southern part of the peninsula (Gladstone), which is affectionately dubbed the "banana belt" by Lake Superior shoreside Yoopers, this was somewhat of a minor concern and we were both cautiously optimistic about the challenge.

It was not so much the snow itself that caused the anxiety, but the snow REMOVAL and ensuing cabin fever that always seems to set in around February. After a generous early winter from Mother Nature, the snow removal has since lived up to its expectations. Thanks to my handy Dad with a keen eye for useful things, however, we've been able to tame it with our "brand new" trusty Ariens "Sno-Thro" (circa 1970).

So once you're able to get out of the driveway, what does one do here during winter? It's a fair question - and one we heard often from family and friends not familiar. Initially we both anticipated a greater-than-usual amount of time spent at the ski lodge this season, as it's a favorite winter pastime that we rarely were able to enjoy as residents of East Lansing. Before the alpine ski season came upon us, however, that idea went out of the picture for me after an unfortunate firewood hauling knee injury back in December (yes, snow-related). Regardless (and probably against conventionally wisdom), Tracy and I decided to take up cross-country skiing in order to take advantage of the backcountry trail network here at the farm and the impressive groomed trail systems present in the greater Marquette area. It's been a complete riot of fun as well as a gateway for us to get involved with the Noquemanon Skijor Club and try the sport out with some new friends who know what they're doing. Thule enjoys it and it's a fun way to get in some winter exercise while taking in some north country backcountry scenery!

Tracy & Thule enjoying some nighttime skijoring
On top of the annual Noquemanon Ski Marathon, inaugural Noque Animoosh Skijor Race, and inaugural Noque Snow Bike Race this weekend, there's still plenty of winter festivities here in our new home to look forward to: The U.P. 200 Sled Dog Race, the 125th annual Suicide Hill Ski Jumping Tournament in Ishpeming, "Michigan Ice Fest" Ice Climbing weekend in Munising, and the very much less serious 19th Ever Trenary Outhouse Classic. Surely if cabin fever did in fact settle in up here it would be our own fault.

As far as indoor hobbies go, I'm still working on improving the homebrewing skills. I quickly realized that the craft is a fun way to blend creativity with an affinity for quality brew. With the opportunity to share the fun in this new embarkment with a great friend on the Pacific Coast (Mike Shea), and a very patient craft-brew-loving wife, the creativity is never lacking. The quality, on the other hand...we'll see.

In the spirit of Trenary's February classic...

Thursday, January 26, 2012

Happy Birthday, Michigan

On January 27, 1837 - 175 years ago from tomorrow - Congress brokered a deal with Michigan's twenty-three year old Territorial Governor, Stevens T. Mason. In addition to a grant of statehood, Michigan would receive 15,000 square miles of pure wilderness bounded by Lake Superior to the north, Lake Michigan to the south and spanding eastward from the Montreal, Brule and Menominee Rivers to the Straits of Mackinac.


Michigan's receipt of what is known today as the "Upper Peninsula" was meant to placate early settlers over an ongoing "war" with the State of Ohio over the 468 square mile Toledo Strip. With the exception of the likes of Douglass Houghton, Henry Schoolcraft, and a small handful of other scientific explorers who envisioned a great economic potential for the U.P., most agreed that Michigan received the sour end of the bargain.

Of course hindsight tells anyone who is familiar with Michigan history, or anyone who has ever set foot in the U.P, for that matter, that we made out on the deal pretty well and then some. But those were different times and circumstances. Besides profit-driven fur exploiters and government supported explorers like Houghton and Schoolcraft, very few white settlers ventured beyond the City of Detroit (Modern suburbs such as Royal Oak was a day's travel and mostly wilderness). Even those who had the resources, charge and/or willingness to do so would be forced to navigate the northern Great Lakes and their unforgiving waterways on small ships and canoes. With a lack of tangible appreciation for this new "wasteland" now a part of the State of Michigan, bitterness ensued against Ohio, which arguably won the "Toledo War" in the minds of many due to its power in Congress where Michigan was yet to be represented.

According to Steve Lehto in his recent biography of Douglass Houghton, Michigan's ColumbusThe Detroit Free Press lambasted Congress for its attempt to placate the citizens of Michigan "by extending their jurisdiction over the region of perpetual snows - the 'Ultima Thule' of our national domain in the north...."

No doubt in addition to others who read this passage, I got a good chuckle for the reasonable lack of foresight into Michigan's future. Also, because the U.P. still seems to remain the "region of perpetual snows" -- especially for Tracy and I during our first winter in Skandia -- and for the namesake of our loving border collie mut/skijor dog-in-training.


Lehto goes on to explain that "Ultima Thule is a reference to a place beyond boundaries, often with a connotation to the far north." In many ways, the U.P., Michigan, and the Great Lakes still remains a place beyond boundaries. This is the way many of us like it. In some ways we're still able to admire the U.P. in the same way Houghton and Schoolcraft did on their first birch bark canoe traverse along the southern shore of Lake Superior. We do so by fishing for native trout or admiring them through the gin clear waters of Lake Superior and its tributaries, hiking along the beach, atop Pictured Rocks, climbing "Totesh" (Sugarloaf Mountain) for a beautiful view, or scavenging the forests and shorelines of Lake Superior for unique rocks. Surely in most ways 21st Century life here is vastly different, due largely in part to Houghton's findings. The U.P., which in 1837 was considered a wasteland, became an economic boon to the state and contributed significantly to the industrial revolution in Michigan and throughout the United States. Additionally, the U.P.'s natural bounty of timber, minerals, precious metals, and water have provided for generations of "Yoopers" the opportunity to love, respect, and live in this wonderful place.

Of course we all know at the expense of these successes came damaging exploitation and the unforgivable treatment of native people, which leaves an embarrassing mark in Michigan history. But as Michigan celebrates its 175th anniversary of statehood, a strong sense of pride and undeniable resiliency still exists in the U.P. Combining this optimism with modern, responsible developments in natural resource production, limitless recreational opportunities, and a fresh look at the future (not to mention fantastic home-grown beer), things seem to be on the up and up. In addition timber, copper, gold, silver, iron ore, and other minerals that continue to fuel the U.P.'s prosperity, other natural assets that were once thought of as barriers now generate economic opportunity as well.  Lake Superior, Lake Michigan, and the vast wilderness of the U.P. have become one of the region's primary values as thousands visit to hunt, fish, snowmobile, ski, dogsled, skijor, climb, kayak, sail, hike, bike, and explore among their beauty.

Today, on Michigan's 175th anniversary of statehood, I tip my hat and say "thanks" to our early pioneers: Brule, Marquette, Schoolcraft, Houghton, Longyear, Marble, and many others. Most of my appreciation, however, is for Houghton's lobbying, Mason's bargaining, and the 24th United States Congress's ensuing decision on January 27, 1837 to give Michigan what it thought was a northern "wasteland," which has contributed significantly to 175 historical years for the State of Michigan. I feel privileged to have been a part of 29 of them. For Tracy, Thule, and I it's been even more special since our migration north. Here's to many more.