Taking Up Where We Left Off

Randy and I chose to finish the trip to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, known as the U.P., (see http://waybackstories.blogspot.com/p/adventure-one-up-on-two-wheels.html) that was interrupted by an unfortunately located loggers post last year. Instead of covering old ground. we chose to travel the reverse of the last leg of that trip, culminating in a visit to the nefarious hidden sculpture. 

THE Post

Here’s a quick summary of some of the things that i learned in this years recovery trip.

Randy enters mine through a cliffside entrance

A miners life was a whole different level of hardship. I can't imagine how the miners that worked in these copper mines in the late 18th and early 19th century found reward in life. As described by young Cody, our guide in the Adventure Mine tour (which I highly recommend - http://www.adventureminetours.com ), there was no light in their day. Cody's family came from a line of miners way back in the day, so he had some perspective even though he only had a months experience conducting tours in this mine, located in Mass City. 

Armed with a single candle for each team of three miners that they had to purchase from the mine operator, a miner would enter the shaft before daylight, submerging himself into the dark until reaching the current blast sight. The trip in and out could take up to three hours, for which they were not paid. Then, either swinging a sledge hammer, or holding the drill bar while his two teammates took turns swinging their hammers, he would do his part in pounding away on that bar, ultimately sinking it five feet into the rock to make way for the explosives that would be used to blast the rock into rubble. If that candle was accidentally extinguished, he would have to wait for someone with a lit candle to come by to relight it.  A miner would never feel his way in the dark because of all the dangers underfoot. If the mine boss learned how long he had to wait for that light, he would dock the miners pay for that period of time.

For their efforts, they were paid in script, not currency. That script could only be used in company stores or to pay their rent to the company. That kept most miners bound to the mine in which they worked. 

Mines were not closed because they ran out of copper, but rather because the labor cost of waste rock removal and of breaking up the copper rock exceeded the value of the copper. It's estimated that about a third of the copper in the Adventure Mine was mined, with two thirds left behind. It just grew too expensive to remove it.

Houghton has a wonderful downtown. I guess because it's fundamentally a college town, harboring Michigan Technological University, so Houghton's downtown district is filled with neat restaurants, bars, and shops, all aligned along the Keweenaw waterway. An interesting factoid - Houghton is the birthplace of organized professional hockey.

Further up the road, Calumet Michigan also has a tremendously historic downtown, with many of the old buildings from its heyday in the early 20th century still standing. The Calumet Theater is classic, and has a full event calendar, with any event worth the price of the ticket just to see the inside of the theatre. 

Lake Superior is still cold. We had to confirm that with a dip in the big lake. Fooled a bit by the inland air temperature, which could vary from the lakeside temperature by as much as 20 degrees, we thought it would feel good to cool off and take care of the sweat that had formed in hard to reach places of higher friction. So Randy found one of his favorite beaches just north of Lac le Belle, pulled over, and started peeling off his riding gear. After watching him enter the water slowly, but without reversing himself, I followed. 

Randy acting brave in "refreshing" Lake Superior

I remembered the process well especially after touching my toes in the water. Enter slowly, a few inches of depth at a time. The idea was to numb yourself, first ankles, then calves, then the knees, and so forth. As my ankles got over the shock, I asked Randy how he was doing, since he was not far from the milestone water level of his waist. In a high pitched voice, he noted that his landing gear was securely tucked into the fuselage. I already knew what my short-term future held. It just seemed more unsurmountable than I remembered it. Once my waist started the numbing process, I would be required to either withdraw to the beach in shame and failure, admitting to either having changed my name to Janice or reached senior citizen status, or to fall face first into the water to grin and bear it. I choose the later, since my riding partner had just passed the same test. As I submerged, I considered that perhaps I should have pointed out the location of the nearest automated defibrillator.

The U.P. is a contradiction in time. Having traveled through numerous small, largely run down mining towns in the U.P., it strikes me odd that they should still have residents or structures at all, given that their reason for being closed so many years ago. It's clearly an attractive landscape, with all of the forests, hills, and lakes. It's refreshing, with the clear Lake Superior air blowing through that landscape. But making a living there continues to challenge folks with the dream of calling it home. One of the more beautiful motels we stayed at last year was shuttered this year. Businesses come an go, from year to year. Perhaps our more mobile, work-from-home workforce will find ways to boost the economy through internet value creation, which can be done from anywhere. Or Michigan Tech graduates will find entrepreneurial ways to stick around. I hope so. It's a great part of the country to visit and, I would think, in which to live.