During a week of camping and hiking around Porcupine Mountains State Park, I kept a travelogue of my adventure. In this post, I am seriously hurting after doing a strenuous 19 miles the day before.
At World’s End:
A Week In The Porkies
DAY THREE: in which our invalid hero gets super-high.
-If anyone reading this has trouble sleeping, I have the cure. Walk 19 miles. I slept like a baby. I mean, like the kind of baby that sleeps nine hours straight without needing to eat or pee. On reflection, that is a very weak simile. I slept like a dead person who after being dead awhile gets up. I slept like Jesus.
I resolved to take it easy today, and do some driving. After convincing my knees that staying in bed all day wasn’t going to make things better, we headed out.
The trip to Ironwood took me right by the Summit Peak overlook. It would be dumb not to stop on the way, the overlook is a 20 minute drive from my site. I parked and walked out to the tower with all the steps. “You son of a bitch!” my knees yelled at me when they realized what was happening. I apologize for the language here. But I am just quoting; they were really upset that I knew how badly they were hurting, and yet I had just taken them UP A BIG HILL AND NOW WE HAD TO CLIMB A TOWER. So, they had a point is all I’m saying.
The view was stupendous. You can see what seems like forever, including the tip of Government Peak, which from this vantage point you can see is way up in the air by itself and why in God’s Green Earth would anyone think climbing all the way up there was a good idea? We took it easy coming down from the tower. Coming down from things was especially tough today.
-Next, it was off to Copper Peak, the world’s largest ski jump. They call it “ski flying,” coming off the thing and soaring 600 or more feet — about twice as far as Olympic ski jumpers. It’s the only one of its kind in the Western Hemisphere. It was built in 1970, but closed in ‘94, reopening later as a tourist attraction.
First, you take a ski lift 800 feet up the side of a hill. Then you walk to the jump, which sits atop the hill like the Jesus The Redeemer statue, visible for miles. You ride the elevator up 18 stories, and you’re still not to the top. You can stop there and enjoy the swell view, or you can walk up another 8 flights of stairs to the tippity top. If this wasn’t the most nerve-wracking thing I’ve ever done, I can’t think of what would beat it. This time, I wasn’t just forcing my legs to play through the pain, I had to convince my brain that if I fell there was no way I could plunge to my death through the metal cage. My brain wasn’t having it. My brain looked through the metal grating floor and saw the treetops 1,000 feet below. Then, it imagined being impaled by those treetops as we rocketed earthward. I made it to the top, took a couple shaky photos and quickly found my way back down. It was an incredibly unique experience, and I’m glad I did it. I don’t need to do it again.
-Next, I needed to find the Stormy Kromer factory in Ironwood. Since my phone doesn’t work north of the Mackinac Bridge, I’ve spent a good portion of this vacation pretending it’s the 20th century, and stopping at gas stations to ask for directions. I got in line at the Holiday, and asked the man in front of me if he knew the way to Stormy Kromer. It was as if he’d been waiting all week for someone to ask him this. He was pumped. “Oh, wow. Are you doing the tour? It’s great, I love it! I’ve done it four times.” He proceeded to give me directions that, no lie, included the phrase “turn where the driving range used to be.” There was a little hiccup, though, because he wasn’t sure if construction would block either way there. I chose one of his options, thanked him and left. As I was getting into my van, he pulled up behind me and got out. “Hey! I’m kind of heading that way! Want to follow me, I can take you there!” Did I mention he was really pumped? So, I followed him around construction, right to Stormy Kromer. He honked and waved out his window as he sped away. In a life before pocket computers that take you wherever you want to go, people were forced to interact. And they did things like lead a stranger to a hat factory. So, thanks Ironwood Allen (which I have named you). You’re a real analog superhero.
-The Stormy Kromer tour is very interesting and free.
-Since I didn’t have access to Maps or Yelp, I just drove around Ironwood. I found an old mine marker, which isn’t hard. They’re every 100 feet or so up here. I also found Hiawatha, the largest Indian statue in the world. So, that’s something. I don’t know what the competition is like, but he’s pretty big. This whole area loves Indians, they’re everywhere. No Native Americans, though. They kick it old school. Out of respect, I’m assuming.
-If it’s not named after an Indian, it’s named after a miner. Multiple towns have football teams called the Miners, and there’s a local paper called the Bessemer Pick and Axe. How cool is that?
One school, though, confused me. In Ewen, there’s a Trout Creek Elementary. Their sign has a big drawing of a trout leaping out of the water. But under the name and the trout, it said “Home of the Panthers!” I love this so much.
-I decided it was time to head out, so I got on the road and accidentally drove into Wisconsin. It wasn’t much of a drive, Ironwood and Herley, Wisconsin share a border. But here’s what’s wild. One second over the border there’s a nudie bar. Then another. And another. One advertises “cage dancers.” Storefront after storefront, it’s bar after bar for two blocks. What was happening?! Had I traveled through a Stargate into the sexth dimension? (should it just be “the sex dimension”? I don’t know. I’ll workshop it) For real, though, what was Wisconsin’s deal? I decided to find out. I’m a journalist, after all.
Before I left I told my family I was going to Wisconsin and buying cheese. I didn’t really plan to, but now that I was in Wisconsin I decided to find me some cheese. It didn’t take long. After deciding on Cajun Curds, I asked the cheesemonger about all the nudie bars. Was it a mining town thing, where rules were different in Wisconsin and Michigan miners crossed the border for some action? The rest of Herley was pretty normal, why just those first two blocks into the state? She admitted it was strange, and said she didn’t really know. Well, I tried. I didn’t say I was a good journalist.
-My waterfall guide told me that the Black River has some killer waterfalls, and I was right there so once again my knees were outvoted. Each waterfall was only a mile or so hike from the road, and 10-15 flights of stairs. I won’t repeat what my knees had to say to me this time. Let’s just say it was very HBO.
Dinner: Bacon double cheeseburger and fries, courtesy Bessemer Dairy Queen. Pairs nicely with Blue Powerade. 6/10