Thursday, October 3, 2002(Back to the Top)
A couple of weeks ago, Saturday, September 21 to be exact, I was "off" from work. After putting in several six-day, 70-plus-hour workweeks, I was looking forward to actually having a two-day weekend even though I had nothing special planned. Shortly before noon, however, I got a phone call as all hell was breaking loose at work. Briefly--I ended up going in for a few hours and doing some truck repair. I cannot, and will not, express here how pissed off this made me. In addition to my anger was the fact that I was ridiculously tired and--due to nightmares and other issues--feeling rather insane. That evening was the night that I wrote "Decay," and I don't think it takes a professional psychologist to figure out what my state of mind was at that point. It's probably the closest I have ever come to actually following through with suicide (especially recently), and, in the days following, this option seemed to become a more and more hauntingly viable one. This frightened me and still does frighten me. There are times in my life where it is a constant struggle to stay alive. After a phone call on that Sunday (the 22nd) that I could barely finish and that left me curled up in the fetal position on my floor crying, I decided I needed to do something. Though I can't escape my madness without death, perhaps I could eliminate a different stressor in my life, albeit temporarily. The days following the 21st were the closest I have come to really seriously entertaining thoughts of quitting my job. Perhaps I would try something less drastic first. I decided to take a vacation.
That Monday (the 23rd) I blocked off my schedule for about two weeks, from October 2 through October 15. I didn't know then what (if anything) I was going to do or where (if anywhere) I was going to go, but I just wanted to get away from work. I later decided to head up to the North Woods of Wisconsin and the U.P. of Michigan for a road trip, some hiking, sightseeing, maybe some offroading, and so on. What follows largely is my journal account of that trip.
After a day of preparation and switching gears on October 2, I headed out on October 3 a bit later than I had anticipated simply because I somehow overslept. Nonetheless, my trip had begun. I don't really have a plan. I'm in the city of Marinette at a Super 8 Motel right now. From here I plan on heading west and north and exploring the numerous waterfalls in Marinette County and Northern Wisconsin, many of which I already saw as a student at UWGB (those in Marinette County anyway). My first stop was on the way up here this afternoon. I did some hiking and very minor caving at Maribel Caves County Park about 20-25 miles south of Green Bay. Again, this is a park that I originally visited as a student. "Caves" is a bit of a misnomer. "Small crawlspaces between and underneath rocks" may be more appropriate as the largest accessible "cave" is probably no more than 40 or 50 feet deep, though a flashlight is required to see the end of it. There is one cave, presumably bigger, behind a locked steel door that belongs to the Wisconsin Speleological Society. I may have to look into this (the WSS that is, not the door). I've always been interested in caves and other small, hidden, inaccessible, out-of-the-way places, and I'd like to see what's behind that door as well as others. I did some hiking along the river that runs through the park (Devil's River?). Being a weekday, I didn't see one other person, so I took a seat on the shore between two babbling sections of the river and just sat and thought. No child abductions. No terrorist attacks. No wars. No deadly beatings. No shipping strikes. No sniper shootings. No TV. No stock market. No corporate scandals. No worker's comp. No unemployment hearings. No BBB. No pissed off customers. No two-way radio. No worn out stress balls. No traffic. No computer. No cell phone. I have my phone, but it's off, and it's staying in my truck. I probably won't even be within range on some parts of this trip. No one knows exactly where I am, and no one can get ahold of me. I won't see anybody that I know until I go back. If I go back. Maybe I'll just find a nice cliff to do a swan dive off of. It's very nice but somewhat weird to let someone else worry about the stupidity of work. No matter what, I won't know what happens until I go back. If I go back...
I'm alone with my thoughts, a pen, and a legal pad. Cut off from my everyday existence. I won't even listen to the radio. I've got tapes in my truck, and that's all I'm going to listen to. I bet I won't even have to touch the Pantera tape. I find it hard to believe I'd get pissed off enough up here for that. I'm not checking my voicemail. Hell, I even changed my answering machine message to, "Good evening. I am currently on vacation and unavailable for an unspecified period of time. Thank you." No appointments to get to. Time means little, so who cares if I get lost while driving around. That should be one of my goals. Let's see what happens tomorrow.
Friday, October 4, 2002(Back to the Top)
Three words for you (well, four actually if you count the conjunction)--"Rain" and "Forest Roads!" Upon awakening this morning, I was met with, in part thanks to Hurricane Lili, vast amounts of rain. Well, I wasn't about to let a little rain stop me. Not after an additional hour of sleep anyway. After all, I'm on vacation! If nothing else, it would probably mean even fewer people (a rainy weekday), though the scenery probably wouldn't be spectacular. In all, I ran into a total of about three people and one dog during today's travels. And though the fall colors were somewhat muted by the overcast skies, I wasn't about to sit in my hotel room all day. So off I went.
My first stop was Dave's Falls and Bull Falls on the Pike River. I had visited Dave's Falls as a student at UWGB, but I did some more extensive exploring this time. In short order with the rain, I became quite wet, and while this wasn't terrible (had it been colder, I may have had to rethink my position), it wasn't particularly pleasant or comfortable, nor was it particularly safe. The rocks were rather slippery. Add in the moss/lichen/fallen leaves factor and you're looking at almost instantaneous dunking into the river. But somehow I survived and found a railroad bridge. I know, I know--trespassing. I followed the tracks to the south (I think). A large rock formation caught my eye, and I clambered to the top of it. Here's what I saw. I was standing on one end of what was basically a half-circle cliff. Think of a cylinder cut in half the long way and stuck in the ground, except the convex side seemed to be the raised, quite overgrown surrounding terrain. The cliff (and though I'm no geologist, I do know it was made of granite) was about 30 feet high straight up. I was on the top of this thing looking down into it. At the bottom was a really dark pool of water that was who knows how deep. I'm guessing at one time this may have been some kind of mining or quarry operation or something similar. Off to one side were huge granite slabs and boulders that almost looked like they may have been dumped there. In the very slippery rock that I was standing on, I also saw some drill holes, probably for dynamite. Interestingly enough, however, the cliffs that remained looked natural--no evenly spaced alterations of drill holes and roughness where the rock was exploded away, etc. The cliffs led me to recall the swan dive comment I made in yesterday's writing. It would be quite awhile before anyone would find me (if ever).
Bull Falls sucked. It should be renamed Bullshit Falls. It was a pain in the ass to get to, and when I did get there, I found the falls to be little more than a tiny amount of very small rapids. I quickly left and headed to the depths of Marinette County, the Forest Roads.
Forest Roads are unimproved public roads that criss-cross the woods of Northern Wisconsin. They have catchy names like FR510, FR511, and so on. Forest Roads kick ass. There is a cluster of four falls on the Pike River located off of some of these Forest Roads just south of Highway 8--Eighteen Foot Falls, Twelve Foot Falls, Eight Foot Falls, and Horseshoe Falls. I had visited at least some, if not all of these when I was at UWGB. This time was different however.
I have, from my school days, a Marinette County map that shows many of the places I have just written about. I will quote directly from one of the notations on this map. "The roads leading to Horseshoe Falls can be rough, particularly in bad weather." Well, Jeez, guess where I went first. It had been raining most of the night and, though it was little more than drizzle at the time, all of the day. Perfect. Time to do a little playing with the 4WD, something I didn't have last time I was here (nor was it raining). Bottom line, I did a lot of driving (more than was really necessary) and not so much hiking, and while 4WD is not absolutely necessary, it's certainly more fun. I guess the rain wasn't all bad. There are more Forest Roads to come tomorrow, along with more rain tonight. You know, as a side note, my pants are still wet, and they haven't been exposed to actual rain for about six hours now. My truck is, at this time, quite filthy. Both inside and out, actually. I'm making quite a road trip mess, but I digress.
As far as the hiking goes--again, the wet rocks not particularly safe, getting a lot closer than I prudently should, etc. Eighteen Foot Falls wasn't too bad, but Twelve Foot Falls, Eight Foot Falls, and Horseshoe Falls are really little more than glorified rapids, though I did see a fish jump out of the water trying to swim upstream at Twelve Foot Falls, so that was pretty cool. I guess when one does not have mountains in one's state, one must take what one can get.
I then headed to an area just south of Iron Mountain, MI (where I'm currently spending the night at another Super 8 Motel) where Long Slide and Smalley Falls are located. Long Slide Falls is the largest waterfall that I have seen so far on this trip, but again it's one that I have seen before. The Pemebonwon River drops a total of about 50 feet, and the gorge walls lend themselves to some half-way decent rock climbing even though, as we all know, (say it with me) it wasn't particularly safe. In fact, at one point as I was perched precariously on a rock outcropping to take a picture, I even said to myself, "If you fall, you will die." But somehow I survived and went to Smalley Falls.
I didn't spend a lot of time at Smalley Falls for a few reasons. First, they weren't anything spectacular. Second, by not spending much time down in the falls, I was able to get some decent, wide, see-forever landscape views. Third, as daylight was rapidly fading, my first real encounter with wildlife scared the shit out of me. I think it was a deer that jumped across the trail. I saw the trees move, and I heard whatever it was, but I didn't actually see it. I froze but didn't see one more branch move or hear one more twig crack. Kind of freaky. Time to go.
With all the trampling around I've done in this seriously thick wilderness, I've probably acquired West Nile, Lyme Disease, and, heck, throw in Spongy Brain for good measure. And despite my visions of my grisly death--wild animal attack (the bear vs. shark debate could finally be answered once and for all), falling/drowning, or human attack (the perfect place for a murder--no witnesses, no body), I'm heading out for more Forest Roads tomorrow. It's supposed to be cold tonight and cool tomorrow. Hopefully it won't be raining.
Saturday, October 5, 2002(Back to the Top)
Today's weather was just about perfect. It was cool, crisp, and dry. The high was about 50°F with just a slight breeze under mostly sunny skies. I sound like I should be working for The Weather Channel. In all, it was much more comfortable today. I had planned today to head mainly west and spend the night in Eagle River. That didn't happen; I'm back in Iron Mountain, this time at a Comfort Inn. I guess I'll have to spend an extra day up here. That's too bad (Sarcasm Alert!).
I first headed back to the Horseshoe Falls area this morning. I figured, with this great Saturday weather, that I would probably be seeing more people today. I was right. My first indication was the trucks parked along some of the Forest Roads where the people could go with their ATVs. I ran into a couple people at Horseshoe Falls. I didn't spend much time here because I had more exploring to do, but I just couldn't stay away from the mud. One interesting thing that I did notice is this. As I'm walking away from the falls, it's amazing how quickly the sound of the rushing water gives way to the sounds of the forest and my footsteps. Yesterday it was the gentle raindrops on the canopy above me. Today it was the birds, the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze, and the yellow sentinels of autumn fluttering slowly to the damp, anticipating earth. But that's enough poetry for now.
My next stop was Strong Falls. It was a nice, large, popular park and a nice set of falls, but, again, they were little more than a series of fast-paced large rapids. There were way too many people there, so, after a very brief hike and a really itchy bug bite, I left to go to McClintock Falls just down the road. These falls are located in a nice park where people were picnicking (and a kid was crying). However, once I got away from this and started hiking, it was pretty quiet. The "falls" here were just tiny little whitewater ripples, but the scenery and park were so nice that I spent more time there than I maybe otherwise would have. I took one picture that, if it turns out like I hope it will, I would like to have enlarged, framed, etc. One really cool thing about this park were the bridges that crossed the river, led to an island, and so on. And here's something that I just thought of--the geology is a lot different up here than in the southern part of the state where I currently reside. There are a lot of huge boulders in the rivers, around the rivers, and just generally dotting the landscape. There aren't "rocks" in the rivers. Furthermore, many of the river banks do not gently slope down to the water. No, no, no. In fact, many of them, particularly the ones with the larger falls, have rather sharp rock cliffs to the water. It's kind of trail, BOOM!, cliff, water. The soil is more sandy and red (iron!) up here as well, and the predominant rock types are granite, sandstone, and ancient basalt lava flows.
McClintock Falls was pretty much the end of my Marinette County excursions. After searching for--and not finding--a lookout tower, it was on to Florence County. The remainder of my day was not very successful. I first went to Little Bull Falls. Three rocks in the middle of a river does not a waterfall make. Next stop? Big Bull Falls. Much bigger and much better than Little Bull Falls. Here's where things got a little messy (as far as driving, not actual dirt, which I've already covered).
First, a bit of an aside. Before beginning this trip, I had a great debate with myself over whether or not I should buy a GPS unit. I decided against it but now believe it would have come in handy. I'll probably buy one shortly after I get back just so I have one for next year...hint, hint. Florence County is not nearly as good as Marinette County with labeling things like Forest Roads, turnoffs for interesting areas, etc. Not only that, but making these areas at least somewhat accessible, as well. The DeLorme Atlas and Gazetteer that I have, though nearly flawless so far, also seems to be lacking in the Florence County area. The atlas has GPS grids in it which would probably help me locate some of this stuff, but without a GPS unit, the grids aren't very beneficial to me. Marinette County also does a way better job with the quality of their Forest Roads, in part I believe because ATV use is restricted on many of them--not so it seems in Florence County. The roads are a lot rougher and a lot narrower in Florence County. Many of these roads in Florence County are closed off as well for whatever reason, which can make getting around in this back country more difficult.
I can now return to my original point, which even I have forgotten what it is by now. Oh yeah, after Big Bull Falls, I attempted to find Washburn Falls, Jennings Falls, LaSalle Falls, and two lookout towers. I found none of those, despite trying what appeared to be alternate routes on my map. I even stumbled upon a map on the river for portage points for these falls, but I was unable to actually find the falls themselves. Whether my map was wrong or Florence County doesn't label them, I don't know. And I wasn't about to find out as the sun was setting and some of these spots seemed like they would be some pretty hefty hikes through some seriously rough and wildly overgrown terrain.
My search for the first lookout tower, which was actually the second of the day, led me to a sign indicating some kind of DNR wood grouse rehabilitation program or something goofy like that. I hiked around a little bit in this area hoping to find the lookout tower. I didn't find it, but what I did find was silence. Absolute and total silence. No birds; no animals; no crickets or other insects; no cars, trucks, or planes; no people; no gunshots in the distance; no wind or rustling leaves. Not even a wood grouse. Absolutely nothing. Such silence I have never experienced. This was very odd to me.
The quest for the next lookout tower led me to a very tight and rather rough Forest Road. I didn't find the tower, but I saw a fawn, and I did learn something. One should not leave one's truck window open even a crack when one is traversing mud and water. I have mud-drip-stained inner door panels to prove this.
I was going to spend this evening in Eagle River, but I didn't want to drive over there tonight, so I was going to spend the night in the "city" of Florence, but instead of trying to find a hotel there (if there even is one), I just headed about 15-20 miles back to Iron Mountain. On the way back, however, I did see signs for LaSalle Falls. I wrote down the directions and now have some place to start for tomorrow.
Sunday, October 6, 2002(Back to the Top)
Two words--Road 'Tang! But I'll get to that later. After not sleeping real well for some reason last night, I awoke to the sound of...raindrops. What a surprise. So I slept an extra hour then started my day. Not necessarily wanting to repeat Friday's soaking, my first stop was at Dunham's for a rainsuit. Dunham's not having them, I went to Wally World (Wal-Mart) to buy one, at which point, of course, it stopped raining. I kept it, figuring it might come in handy later in my trip, and continued.
Last night I was perusing literature in my hotel room and read about two falls right in the Iron Mountain area that I decided I would visit. The first of these was Fumee Falls which, as I found out when I would have arrived, was closed due to recent tornado issues. However, I was able to see the falls from the road and note that it was an actual waterfall and not just some cheesy rapids. I then went to Piers Gorge on the Menominee River. Even though it was really just a lengthy series of large rapids, it was still cool. I cut myself a walking stick from a fallen tree, which was a good thing because I was about to need it.
As I was walking upstream along the river I came to a clearing in the forest. This was a powerline right of way, the lines crossing the river perpendicularly. I was on a small hill looking upstream. To my left was the river and an electrical tower. To my right, not all that close by, was another electrical tower on a rather sizable hill that I could not see over. Naturally, I wanted to see what was on the other side of the hill. Climbing this sand and rock hill was difficult but probably would have been even more so if it hadn't been raining and the sand wasn't wet. This seemed to aid my traction. The view was nice, but all I could see was along the powerline right of way. I knew I could do better. The trees to the west of the right of way were blocking my view, so I climbed another hill on the east edge of the right of way. As this hill was sand and rock as well and even steeper than the one I just climbed, reaching the peak was both very tiring and very difficult. I had visions of high school cross country practice hill runs in my head. Luckily, the terrain was loose enough that I could actually kick my toes into the hill in order to get enough grip to propel myself upward and forward. It was a similar situation with my heels on the way down. The walking stick proved to be quite handy at helping me keep my balance, pushing me onward, and so on. It was hell getting to the top of the hill, but it was definitely worth it. The view was outstanding. I could see virtually forever, even with the overcast day. I even saw smoke rising from the hidden houses that were below the carpet of trees. Birthed by warm hearths in dry, secluded cabins, it rose from the muted fall colors to merge perfectly with the leaden skies. But that's enough poetry for now.
My next stop was another attempt at LaSalle Falls. I'm glad I went back, and even more glad I actually found the falls this time. While driving there I saw two deer and a gaggle(?) of, I believe, wild turkeys. While hiking I saw two more deer on my way out and, while driving back to a "real" road, I saw one more deer that I could have hit if for some odd reason I wanted to.
The parking for the falls was located a couple miles in on a Forest Road. It was then a fairly easy one-mile hike in to the falls themselves that took about 20 minutes. It took a few minutes of clambering around and snaking through the underbrush to find the best place to view the falls. They weren't bad--fast, loud, and (relatively) big. I could feel the rock vibrating beneath my muddy feet. After spending about 20 minutes around the falls and after a 20-minute hike back out, I was once again on my way.
I then spent a decent chunk of time just kind of exploring the Forest Roads in and around this area. I was half-looking for one of those lookout towers from yesterday as well as for Washburn Falls, neither of which I found. I did, however, find a logging camp which was nothing but mud. Figuring this might not be public land, I turned around to leave and got stuck. No worries, though. I put my truck in 4WD, and out I slurped with no problems. I thanked myself for spending the extra money to buy a truck with 4WD because even though I have a come-along for emergencies, my goal is to not need and/or use it. It's kind of like insurance--you don't want to use it, but you're glad you have it when/if you need it. My truck at this point is just absolutely filthy. I can barely see out of the passenger side window, and I even have mud drips on the rear cab window. It started raining, though, as I headed back to civilization, so as it sits right now in the parking lot of this Comfort Inn in Ironwood, MI, it looks better than it did before. The rain at least washed off all the chunks. As an amusing anecdote, after it rains at night, there is a ring of mud on the ground around my truck in whichever hotel parking lot it's sitting in in the morning.
I gave barely a half-ass attempt to find Meyers Falls and Bull Falls off of Highway 70. I think I saw the Forest Road that they may have been off of, but, as it was raining and approaching the end of the cloud-shortened daylight hours, I basically decided to skip them and drive to where I would be spending the night.
I finally made it to Eagle River but decided to keep driving to Ironwood where I am right now writing this to entertain you, my dear reader. My truck rolled over 50,000 miles on Highway 70 and Wendy Dr. in Arbor Vitae, just east of Highway 51. I've logged over 700 miles on this little excursion so far. The rain kept falling, and the day got darker on this leg of my journey, but there wasn't much to see anyway. Most of the trees in this area are evergreens, so you don't get all the cool colors of the deciduous trees. I did see several deer along the way, both alongside and in the road.
Just as I was getting into Ironwood the rain was turning to snow. Nothing that will stick, certainly, or even cause any problems, but it was snow nonetheless. I am, of course, being so appreciative of the winter season, very happy about this. Decent snow is in the near future.
And now, the moment you've all been waiting for, Road 'Tang! (I'll bet you thought I forgot. Ha! Well I didn't, so there. Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha-haaaaaa!) Before you get all excited, I didn't get any Road 'Tang, but the potential may have been there. Let me explain.
I ate dinner tonight at the Country Pub, a bar associated with and in the same building as the local Country Kitchen. How I ended up in the pub portion I'm not exactly sure, and it was quite by mistake. Anyway, since it was about 7:00 on a Sunday night, it was just me and the bartender who looked to be about my age. We got to talking about where we were from, what we do/have done, etc. I thought we were getting along quite well, and really I couldn't tell if I was hitting on her or if she was hitting on me. Now, she had short blond hair (I much prefer long dark hair) and was wearing bell bottoms (Ack!), but she was cute. Besides, I haven't had sex for coming up on one year, so I'll just about take whatever I can get at this point. And she actually spoke to me, even though I realize she gets paid to be nice to and to talk to people. Granted, we didn't get deep enough to get to the "real" me, but still. I'd like to think that if I wasn't who I am (as far as not taking any kind of risks in this area) and that if she didn't live more than 6.5 hours away from where I reside, that this could have actually gone somewhere. Oh well, something to ponder...
Monday, October 7, 2002(Back to the Top)
The weather started off great today. It was nice and cool, and there were very few clouds. As the day progressed, the clouds rolled in and it became completely cloudy. At least it didn't rain (yet). I started my day with a trip to downtown Ironwood where I purchased a couple of postcards. Realizing I forgot stamps, however, I have to go back tomorrow to finish this little task.
Today's first adventure was a bit of a backtrack to the Mercer area. There I went to the Lake of the Falls on the Turtle Flambeau Flowage. The falls aren't much (again, think large rapids here), but this whole flowage area is rather interesting and scenic. It's a large system of lakes, rivers, and swamps that are all connected together. From there I went back towards Ironwood where I attempted to find Spring Camp Falls off of Highway 51. My first attempt failed. A section of one of the roads on the route that I wanted to take was washed out. While I probably could have traversed the water of the washed out section with little or no problems, I didn't really want to risk it because, had I failed, I would have had some serious issues (the whole "without a paddle" euphemism comes to mind here). So, I tried an alternate route by coming in from the north. What I found may or may not have been what I was looking for. I came to a sign indicating the falls were off to the left. Off to the left was absolutely nothing but a wall of trees, not even anything remotely resembling even a primitive trail. My map indicated the falls were off to the right about one mile down another Forest Road. Not wanting to put forth the effort to forge my own new trail and avoid getting lost for something that, traditionally as I have learned in the last few days, wasn't going to be that spectacular anyway, I headed down the Forest Road. I drove about a half mile and hiked the remainder. All I found was, I believe, a couple of small springs and a tiny babbling brook. I gave up and went on. P.S. I actually saw a sheriff on these back roads today.
I would like to take a moment here, if I could, to give a State of My Vehicle Address. Besides the uncleanliness of the beast, I have sustained some damage. The driver's side fog light cover has gone missing. This is not terribly surprising as I had to replace the passenger side light for the very same reason just a few months ago, and I was simply driving down the freeway when that one fell off. There may be some new paint scratches as well. One Forest Road was particularly narrow today and while I do my best to avoid tree branches as much as I can, it's not always possible or practical (one side--trees, other side--a cliff to who knows where). If the truck wasn't so damn muddy, though, I might actually be able to tell for sure if it is scratched--not that I'm terribly concerned about it. And finally, there's some kind of odd noise coming from, I think, the rear end. I should probably investigate that some time. Thank you. Thus endeth the Address. I now return you to your regularly scheduled programming.
Peterson Falls was my next destination. Located just outside of Ironwood on the Wisconsin/Michigan border, it was very easy to find. In short (hey, there's something new for this essay), the falls were big, fast, and loud. Bottom line--they kicked ass, unlike Rock Cut Falls. Despite numerous attempts and alternate routes and even some cursing, I failed to find those falls due to road construction (mainly), map problems, and other difficulties.
Gile Falls was my next destination, and, while it was on my list of places to visit today, I found it quite by accident. Without really having started to look for it, I just kind of stumbled across it. The falls themselves were very small, but the surrounding area was incredibly unique. All of the rock surrounding the river was sideways. Let me explain. Many of the boulders in and around the river and even the walls of the river are made of layered rock, but the layers don't match the landscape. They aren't parallel with the water or anything else for that matter. Such is it at many of these places that I have visited, but I digress. I spent quite a bit of time exploring this place. I came to some giant hills that really I don't know if they were "officially" part of this park or if I could do what I was about to do to them. Naturally, I wanted to see what was on the other side of the hill. I stood at the bottom (which was neither on the "official" trail, nor was there a trail up the hills) looking up thinking to myself, "Can I get up there?" The angle was more than 45° and probably closer to 60° and made up entirely of very loose sharp rock. There was really no grass and very few plants in general because there was no soil--just the rocks. Nonetheless, I started climbing. It was incredibly difficult. The climb was longer, taller, and steeper than the hills from yesterday. It was like climbing a ladder but worse because I'd push as much rock down with my feet as I would my body up. In fact, I was in 4WD for a lot of it, using both my hands and my feet. By the time I got to the top my legs were just burning, and I was breathing like I had just done an 800-m track race. The view was excellent, and I spent some time at the top examining the layered rocks. I think this may have been part of a mining operation. I found some rocks with drill holes through them, some iron scrap, automotive hose sections, and so on. I then did a controlled slide back down to where I was supposed to be, took a couple of small sample rocks (tsk, tsk), and left.
Just for the heck of it, I then motored out to Upson Falls but didn't spend a lot of time there because it was getting late. It was pretty cool, but I'm going back there tomorrow, so I'll have a more detailed report for you then. I hope the sun will be out--there could be some excellent picture-taking opportunities.
Before finishing today, I'd like to have a paragraph of miscellaneous information, irrelevant observations, random musings, and disjointed "stuff." Here we go. The water in Ironwood (where I am spending the night) tastes like...(drum roll please)...iron! The timing for this trip is basically perfect except for the rain and clouds of course. 80% of the trees are at peak color up here right now. That's about as high as it gets. This will do nothing but go down and may not even last through this coming weekend, particularly if there is wind and/or heavy rain. Furthermore, the bug content is fairly low, there are no summer crowds, I can wear pants and be comfortable, it's cool, and my hay fever isn't a problem (even without the trusty Allegra-D). There is a bar in Iron Mountain call the Back Door Bar. If that's not a gay bar, I don't know what is. Highway 8, Highway 2, Highway 141, and somewhat Highways 70 and 77 kick ass for both their scenery and the stuff that you can get to from them. There are apparently many water issues around Spring Camp Falls. Even my alternate route looked like it just had some work done (such as additional drainage pipes). Thank you.
Tuesday, October 8, 2002(Back to the Top)
Guess what. Rain! And why wouldn't it? Actually, the rain cleared out relatively early, but then it was cloudy all day again. The temperature was fairly decent--nice and cool again. My first stop was, as I mentioned yesterday it would be, the Ironwood Post Office where I mailed my postcards. Next I stopped at the Wisconsin Travel Center just outside of Hurley. I got a couple ATV and sportsmen's maps of Iron and Ashland Counties as well as some information from a lady who was incredibly helpful. She was probably more knowledgeable and helpful than she really had to be.
I first went to Kimball Falls which were somewhat in the area of where my map indicated Rock Cut Falls were. These falls were in a small county park and were fairly nondescript and lame. The coolest thing about it was the one-lane bridge one must cross to get into the park. I quickly left. My next stop was to be Saxon Falls, but the lady at the Travel Center said they were inaccessible, so I took her word for it and skipped them. They are near Superior Falls, which I'll get to in a minute, and the road I think I would have taken to get to Saxon Falls appeared to be in pretty rough shape, under construction, or whatever, so the lady was probably right.
Superior Falls, and somewhat even more so the area around it, kicked ass! The river drops a total of about 90 feet over the course of a couple smaller drops. The walls of the river gorge aren't all solid rock, either. The water comes down and does kind of a dogleg as it heads to the lake. The gorge wall stopping the water at this dogleg where it all kind of swirls around looks to be largely made of clay, mud, whatever. It certainly isn't rock like what's found along a lot of the other falls that I've seen. There's a fence at the top of this wall to keep people from falling into the river (there is a power plant associated with these falls, so it's not quite as "wild" as many of the ones I've been to). This fence is at least the second fence that's been there because you can see old fencepost holes and a path in front of (closer to the river than) the current fence. So that's the falls.
The river that these falls are in (the Montreal River) empties right into Lake Superior only a few hundred yards from the falls. This is the first time that I have seen or been on Lake Superior, and I must say it kicks ass as well. Of course, what I am about to describe applies only to the very small portion of the shoreline that I explored (as far as I know). There is very little actual "shore" as one would traditionally think of. The cliffs lead nearly right to the water. Think of something like the White Cliffs of Dover...except not white. The shore, by which I mean a portion that one can walk on at lake level, was anywhere from maybe 20 or 30 feet wide to just a few inches wide--just enough to grip my boot on to stay dry and continue. I spent about two hours down there (and could have spent days) walking along the shoreline, exploring, and picking up driftwood and small rocks (tsk, tsk), all the while the water lapping gently at the rocks. To the north, water to the very horizon. To the south, 40-foot cliffs looming straight up above me. To the east and west, the tightrope of shoreline that I was dancing on. But that's enough poetry for now. Most of the rocks there were worn smooth by years of wave action. The rocks and the cliffs were predominantly red with an occasional exception. The cliffs were largely layered perpendicular to the water and some of the layers had fallen off and certainly will continue to fall off (indeed, some small stones fell off even while I was there). Where the red rock had sheared off was left a black spot, presumably iron that hadn't yet rusted. This also left sharp shards of rock on the shore as opposed to the predominantly smooth ones. Like I said, this was an awesome place. It was very rocky, the water was very clear, and it was just all-around very cool. There was even a deer and a frog down there. I spent some time skipping rocks and continued on my way.
I went to Upson Falls next, the place I scouted out yesterday. When I first stopped by I prepared myself for disappointment because I could see rapids as I crossed the bridge to enter the park. I figured that might be it. However, I followed the trail (and really, calling it a "trail" is an insult to legitimate trails everywhere) upstream a bit to find a series of about three five- to ten-foot high falls. Not too bad. The scenery in and getting to the park was nice as well...if only I could get some sun. The trail consisted of some seriously soggy ground. I had to make sure my boots stayed on with nearly every step I took. The park also contains a shelter built on the sloping shoreline. This building seems to be sliding into the river as the building and the top of the concrete pilings no longer meet flat parallel to each other. The solution? Shims between the building and the pilings. Yeah, that ought to do it.
My next stop was at a place that I saw a sign for yesterday--the Plummer Mine Headframe. This is an old 80-foot high piece of iron mining equipment. (Please note--when I use the word "equipment" or machinery here, I personally get the feeling that this word indicates something smaller and movable. This machinery is neither. It's quite huge and quite immovable as it's anchored securely to and in the Earth, but I can't think of a better word to use.) I found some related ruins as well as some animal bones. I also found rock piles like those that I climbed at Gile Falls yesterday, confirming that belief that they were somehow associated with mining.
Next stop? Foster Falls. They were fairly large--about a 25-foot drop--and very wide. The cool part about it was that, with its width, there were multiple paths that the water could follow. From there I went to Wren Falls. These falls were listed as "difficult to extreme difficult" (that is, "Good luck getting in...and good luck getting out") in some information I picked up this morning. It was a hell of a drive to the middle of nowhere (anytime it takes ten minutes to go 1.3 miles and there is no other traffic, you're looking at a hell of a drive). I made it in in 2WD, but taking a car in would be risky at best and unwise or foolish at worst. One definitely needs the ground clearance and suspension of a truck. As for the falls, they weren't very tall (maybe 15 feet), but right at the drop is a giant boulder that narrows the river, making it speed up over the falls. A bit downstream another boulder/small falls combo creates kind of a whirlpool-type looking thing. In all, the difficulty reaching the falls was worth it. The drive out was equally as fun. I'm telling you, Forest Roads kick ass!
I then went to the Potato River Falls on the *take a guess* River. The falls were excellent (dropping a total of about 90 feet), but they were located within a county park which, for me, usually seems to take something away--the wildness if nothing else. Plus, it usually means more people. It also means more development. In this case, steps--224 to the lower falls and 130 to the upper falls to be exact. Feel the burn, baby, yeah. There was an old woman there that I passed who was resting partway up the stairs. I said to her as I went by, "Better view than the Stairmaster, huh?" She was in no mood for my shenanigans. Then I passed her friend on the trail. Even with the "improvements" of the county park, they really had no business being where they were--wrong footwear and dressed too nicely. Oh yeah, I took a couple rocks from along the river (tsk, tsk) and played with a crawfish for a bit that had washed up on shore before I left.
To finish my evening I went to Copper Falls State Park. I finally found (and went up) an observation tower and then did the trail in double time. Because it was damn near dark when I got there, I will be starting there tomorrow morning. I will have a full report at that time as well as my views on state parks. For now, know that I saw the two old bitties from Potato River Falls there and that I didn't spend much time there tonight because I didn't want the "Spookies" to get me, as one old couple just returning from the trail said would if I stayed out there too long (yeah, and they had probably been out there since dawn).
I'd like to finish this day with more disjointed "stuff." I rolled over 1000 miles for this trip just south of Ashland where I'm spending the night (at a Super 8 Motel). Ashland, at least the small part that I've seen, is kind of a cool little city. This trip, for whatever reason, is making me horny. On the other hand, I'm beginning to realize how much this is costing me (mainly hotel rooms). The typical brown color of the river water is caused by tannin, a byproduct of decaying tamarack and white cedar trees (plus others). Thank you.
Wednesday, October 9, 2002(Back to the Top)
I started today at the same place I ended yesterday, in bed. No, wait! I mean at Copper Falls State Park. Ha! I spent a lot more time there today than I did last night simply because I was no longer endangered by Spookies. I had the misfortune of being behind a guy who was smoking on most of the trail. I mention him because he plays a role later in my day. The park is the location of two sets of falls--Copper Falls and Brownstone Falls. What's neat about these falls is that they meet each other head on. One river comes from one direction. The other river comes from the opposite direction. The water goes over their respective falls, meets, and continues off as one river in a perpendicular direction, like a T-intersection.
Here now is my rant on state parks. First and foremost, state parks are largely made for sightseeing, not necessarily adventure. I don't feel one gets enough access such as that which I have experienced at all of these "wild" falls. I want to get wet. I want to feel the water spray in my face. I want to sit on a rocky outcropping and have my feet be only inches from the swiftly rushing water. I want to be in danger. Danger's my middle name, baby, yeah! Certainly the accessibility to the park and in and around the park can't be beat (paved roads, well marked/groomed wide trails, signs, maps, handicap access, etc.), but as far as back country exploration opportunities go, forget it. There are way too many people at these places, especially old people. The last thing I want on a vacation intended to get away from people is to run into a whole busload of touring seniors.
All of the above, however, is also a good thing about state parks--it allows for safe, mild adventures, but the closed off/fenced off areas should be opened for those who want to explore further. The fenced off areas are always set too far back to see the deepest depths, and lookout areas are usually at least partially obscured by trees. Either move the fences/platforms closer (my preference) or trim the damn trees. And what is the deal with the brown painted log fences, shelters, benches, and other park creations that are present in every single park? They always smell like railroad ties. Is that creosote or something? Thank you. I'm much better now.
My next stop was to be the Penokee Scenic Overlook, but I skipped it for two reasons. First, it was very close to Copper Falls State Park where I had climbed the observation tower again today (this time there was even some sun poking through the clouds), so I figured I wouldn't see much of anything different. In fact, I believe I saw--with my binoculars--the Penokee observation tower from the Copper Falls State Park observation tower. Second, I saw the smoking guy from Copper Falls State Park pull in just before I passed the place. So, I skipped it and went on to Morgan Falls and St. Peter's Dome in the Chequamegon National Forest.
Morgan Falls was tall (about 70 feet) but very thin. In fact, the falls are not part of a river but instead part of Morgan Creek. They were different from a lot of what I've seen in that they were so narrow. In addition, instead of coming straight off the rocks, they kind of went sideways following a small crevasse in the cliff.
St. Peter's Dome was interesting but it was quite a hike to get to it. Most of the trail was very muddy and slippery. Those portions that weren't were very rocky and uneven. The trail terrain was up and down, left and right. Add in a couple of switchbacks for good measure, too. This was probably one of the longest, most difficult hikes I have encountered on this trip (more than four miles round trip in addition to the two miles I had just completed not 30 minutes before at Copper Falls State Park). The lady with the four little kids (especially the two-year-old she was carrying before they even got to the top--I had passed them long ago and was already on my way back at that point) really had no business being there. In all, with the hike to the falls and the dome and with several minutes of observation at each spot, I spent a couple of hours there.
So I suppose you'd like to know what St. Peter's Dome (aka Old Baldy) actually is. It's a red granite summit in the middle of the forest that peaks at about 1600 feet above sea level, about 400 feet taller than the surrounding area and about 350 feet shorter than the tallest point in Wisconsin. The view was spectacular (and the sun even poked through the clouds a bit). Now, 400 feet does not sound like a big deal to climb, but remember, I said the trail goes up and down and all around. It's really...What?...What's that? All right, why don't you go do it, be-atch. Tell me how easy it is. Go on... Now piss off! Sorry. As I was saying, it's really not a simple hike. When I was driving from this destination to go to my next, I saw my first bald eagle. I took a picture of it, but who knows if it will actually turn out.
Next was a fairly lengthy drive up to Siskiwit Falls. There were no signs, no park, no trails, and no parking area--just a two-foot (maybe three-foot maximum) waterfall just upstream from the bridge. I didn't even get out of my truck. My final destination, before the Super 8 Motel in Superior where I am spending the night, was Orienta Falls. They were bogus, manmade crap. They were part of some kind of dam or something, and I may have been trespassing, so I quickly left. I did see another bald eagle up there, though, which was cool (two in one day), and the soles of my boots are just absolutely packed with some impossibly sticky clay.
I'd like to close again this evening with miscellaneous items. First, today's weather. It was cool and cloudy, though the sun did come out around 2:00 PM. I even had my vest on for a lot of the day. It seems to stay lighter up here later. For instance, the sun was still above the horizon at 6:30 PM. Also, the trees in the Superior area don't seem to have changed colors as much yet. Could these two things be related? I hope the person that was snoring in the room next to mine last night got a good night's sleep. This little trip and these reports will be coming to an end shortly, I can assure you. Many times when I get to a peak or other high place (waterfall, lookout tower/area, etc.) I still think about jumping. The view on the way down would be so much nicer than the Hoan Bridge. I guess I still need more help than just this vacation.
Thursday, October 10, 2002(Back to the Top)
The weather started out misty today--and ended simply cloudy--so I began this morning with a quick six or seven mile drive into Duluth just so I could say I was in Minnesota. My next stop was Pattison State Park, which is the site of Big and Little Manitou Falls. For a state park (see yesterday's diatribe), Pattison was both good and bad. First, Little Manitou Falls. There was a big tree trunk that had washed down and gotten hung up on the falls that I could see moving with the water flow. I sat there and watched, hoping it would go over, but it didn't. If it lasts long enough, I'm sure it will go over next spring when there is more water. Little Manitou Falls (about 30 feet high) was not fenced off at all, so I was able to explore them. I guess the park guys figure with big ones around, who's going to look at the small ones? But like I said, I'll take whatever I can get. Wait...are we still talking about waterfalls? Anyway, next it was on to Big Manitou.
Big Manitou Falls is the largest waterfall in Wisconsin, cascading down 165 feet. Being in a state park, of course this was all fenced off (no climbing in the gorge allowed). Most of the views were pretty good, including those of the falls and the surrounding area. The gorge was close to 200 feet deep at its deepest, so I could see pretty far, at least in one direction because none of the trees were tall enough to block the view. There were several scenic overlooks of the falls, but would it really be too much to ask for access to the bottom of the falls, especially since there is already a trail leading down to the river (though it leads way too far downstream to be of much help, but I did try)? All told, I hiked a total of about four or five relatively easy miles and spent about two to 2.5 hours there.
My next destination was Amnicon Falls State Park. For a state park, this place rocked. Access to the area was nearly unlimited. One could swim in the river, and there were even stairs leading to the water. This area was made up of several different kinds of falls around an island, off in some kind of tributary, and so on. Everything was sandstone, so there were some really kick ass rock formations, wear patterns, and wall textures. There was a kind of rocky craggy overhang area that I got into that must have, at one time, been filled with water. The falls that were near it echoed around in there, and it sounded like a freight train (hey, there's a simile nobody ever uses). I spent a couple hours in the park and hiked a few miles.
Guess what. That's it. I have hit every location on my list (with a few exceptions, of course, the issues why having already been explained earlier). Exactly 1299.9 miles into my trip, I am finally heading in the direction of home. Over the last few days I've debated if I should go south then east or go east then south, roughly following the path I took to get here. I decided on the second option, but I took Highway 2 straight through the U.P. to Iron Mountain where I am again at a Comfort Inn. This drive back to Iron Mountain took longer than it should have because people don't know how to drive, but I digress. On the way here, just east of Ino, before it got dark, I saw yet another eagle. I also saw about a dozen deer throughout the drive.
On the way back, since it was virtually right on the way, I decided to give Spring Camp Falls another try. Acting on a tip from the lady at the Travel Center the other day and following a county-made map provided by her to me, I found them. This despite the lady's comment about GPS and excellent hiking ability. As it turns out, I didn't go quite far enough the other day. My map (and I) was right, though, and that sign was wrong. Had I gone only about a half mile further the other day, I would have proven this then. So, see, even the locals who put up that sign don't know where this stuff is, nor can they find it. As for the falls--about a 20 foot drop, nothing special.
I'd like to close tonight with yet another paragraph of miscellaneous stuff (it's nearly 12:30). I should be home tomorrow. The high was about 60°F today--a little too warm for me actually. I need a new backpack. Mine has zipper issues. Michigan stoplights are weird. They're all suspended on wires in/above the intersection; they're not on poles. The leaves are falling from the trees more now it seems. I'm not sure what pasties are (I thought they were part of a stripper's wardrobe or something), but whatever they are, they're mighty popular in Iron Mountain. There are a lot of signs for places to buy/eat pasties up here. One of my favorite all-time signs (something I originally saw when I did this sort of thing on a much smaller scale as a student) is located on Highway 2. It says, "Do not pass when opposing traffic present." No shit! Do you think?
Friday, October 11, 2002(Back to the Top)
It was a bright, sunny day today, so instead of heading directly home, I decided to make two quick stops that were virtually right on the way. First, Horseshoe Falls to see if they looked any better in the sun (they did). I saw a deer as I was leaving Horseshoe Falls to go to Dave's Falls again. I wanted a picture of that pit I found last week, and I wanted to see the falls in the sun. Because the rocks around the pit were nice and dry today, I was able to explore more than I did last week. That really dark pool of water at the bottom was still damn freaky. I also took a quick hike on the railroad tracks in the opposite direction but found nothing of real interest. There were quite a few people at the park, and it was warm, so I didn't spend too much time there. So at last, after 1590 miles, I headed for home. For real this time. No more stops. Just me and a long stretch of asphalt. On the way home I had an epiphany. I realized how truly unhappy I really am and how much I don't want to go back. This could be a problem... I even skipped the company picnic on October 12 just so I could have a few more days go by without "work."
Since there are no more adventures to write about, I'd like to take this opportunity to offer you some final trip statistics. This essay was handwritten nightly (about two hours and three to four pages at a time per day) on a total of 34 legal pad pages before being committed to ones and zeros in my computer. I left for this trip ridiculously stressed out; I came back sporting a beard and drinking coffee. I spent time (as little as it may have been) in a total of three states. I actually hiked in eight counties in two states. I spent eight nights in six different hotels in five cities in two states. Having left at approximately 11:00 AM on October 3 and having returned at approximately 4:00 PM on October 11, my vacation lasted about 197 hours (just over eight days). The total number of unique waterfalls that I actually saw (even cheesy ones) that are mentioned in this essay is 33. According to the Weather Channel, Iron Mountain, MI had received a total of 3.11 inches of rain for the month of October as of the morning of October 11, 2002. I drove a total of 1815.8 miles and consumed 89.237 gallons of gasoline, yielding a miles-per-gallon rating of 20.35 MPG (this is typical). Total fuel cost: $146.30. Total hotel cost: $476.31. Total low-balled estimated cost of entire trip (includes lodging, fuel, film processing, pre- and post-trip purchases/repairs, food, etc.): $1000-$1500. Getting away from everything: Priceless!
And finally...that's it. For real this time. That's everything. No more. I hope you have enjoyed reading about my adventures in the North Woods. Until next year, thank you for your attention. Seriously. Now go find something else to do. I've got some typing to get done...
Originally written:
October 3-12, 2002
Put online:
November 24, 2002
Discussion:
N/A