The Porcupine Mountains Series Part 1: Hallowed Hollow Ground

I like trees.  This is a bit of an ongoing argument at my house, because Scuba likes to cut down trees.  I understand his concern with things like pine needles and leaves clogging eaves troughs, and roots
infringing on the driveway.  However, I always point out the trees were here first, so I win.

If I could get Scuba to take a day-long hike through the Porcupine Mountains, I might be able to change his way of thinking.  A long time ago, before settlers arrived in Michigan, Wisconsin, and Minnesota, those lands contained 81 million acres of undisturbed, closed-canopy forest.  About half of this land consisted of forests of sugar maple, eastern hemlock, yellow birch, American basswood, northern red oak, and eastern white pine.  Today, less than 0.2% of these hardwood-hemlock forests survive as virgin (never been logged) forests.  The largest of these virgin forests is in the Porcupine Mountains, with 35,000 acres of relatively undisturbed hardwoods and hemlocks.*

I only saw a fraction of that while hiking the Porkies, but it is really something to see.

It's not that portions of the Porcupine Wilderness has never been logged.  In the late 1800's, tracts of land were purchased to log the white pine and cedar stands.  Sadly, remnants of the logging era still remain today, where century-old pine stumps can be seen all along the Lake Superior shoreline.*  But the difficulties of logging in this wilderness area pushed the logging barons to other places by the early 1900's.  As technology advanced, some logging activity took place until the early 1940's.  The last logging operations in the Porcupine Mountains occurred in 1953-1954, after a wind storm left a blowdown of centuries-old trees between the mouth of the Big Carp River and Summit Peak.  After the storm, park officials contracted with Connor Lumber and Land Company to salvage the timber in exchange for land the park wanted.  When the salvage of the timber was complete in 1954, the Michigan Conservation Commission declared the Porcupine Mountains a Nature Reserve, thereby protecting the remaining virgin stands from further logging.*

Darkness in Daylight

My favorite tree is the Hemlock.  When hiking on Government Peak trail to the top of a
mountain is halted by a majestic 400 year old tree, I can't just walk around it.  I must take a moment to study its solidity, its gnarled roots visible below my feet, yet stretching deep into the mountain rock for stability.  Standing under its branches, I am awed by the darkness at the height of day, the mighty Hemlock blocking the warmth of the sun, yet radiating its own heat down on the earth.  I am humbled by its strength, inspired by its endurance, and joyful at its beauty.

As I hiked, I noticed from time to time my footsteps made a hollow sound, like I was walking on a drum, and I wondered about it.
Later, a visit with Bob Wild of the DNR shed some light on this phenomenon.  The mountains are a result of millions of years of volcanic eruptions and tetonic plates moving around, and have a strong foundation of rock.  The Hemlocks traveled through pollination and took root in the glacial deposits and rock, but the roots necessarily grow down through the earth.  In various places, especially where the virgin Hemlocks stand, the root formations under the rock have created pockets of air, or hollow places.  At first I found this unsettling, but Bob explained that the roots serve to strengthen the framework under the ground.  He pointed out that the "hollow" ground on which I walked felt very hard and solid.  As my time progressed in the mountains, I came to think of these areas as walking on hallowed, hollow ground.  Bob liked my description.

Those same roots, exposed above the crust of the mountain, act like fingers, reaching out to claw and grab.  It is entirely possible that a lone hiker could find herself having some difficulty navigating the Hemlock roots, which brings up the age old question; if a hiker stumbles and trips her way up (and occasionally, back down) a trail, but no one is there to see it, did it really happen?  So I found myself being quick and light of foot, following in the steps of my American Indian ancestors with speed and agility on my hike.  That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.

The entire 7.3 mile hike up Government Trail was made worth it by the rest stop I took at Trap Falls.  Stumbling…um, I mean, gracefully stepping, into a designated backcountry campsite, complete with a bear pole, and finding a rustic outpost of the most delightful design, was a much welcome respite from the hike.  Many others who had traveled this way before me had created an outdoor home complete with chairs, tables, fire pit, and the soothing sound of Trap Falls cascading into the Carp River.

Rooney ran down the steep bank to drink from the cool, clear water, while I sat on a log and drank my bottled water.  I looked up, at the mighty Hemlocks.  I looked over, at the bear pole where countless hikers have hung their food.  I looked around, at the natural impression in the mountain that gives a small but flat place to set up camp.  I looked down, at the water flowing over and around ancient rocks, and I thought "God is good, and Michigan's DNR is awesome."

I stayed longer than I should have, but found it difficult to leave this magical speck of earth.  As I climbed up the steep bank back to the trail, a Hemlock branch was there to give me a hand up.  In gratitude, I saluted the tree, and envied its post.  To be a sentinel over this beautiful mountain, and this very spot where people seek shelter, is a duty that can only be given by God.

Eastern Hemlock can be found throughout the park.  They can live 500 years or more, and reach 100 feet in height.


Arriving here from the eastern Allegheny forests 3,000 years ago, their thick canopy of needles provides not just shade from the sun, but shelter in the winter, attracting deer in the snowy months.  Hemlock stands become deer yards during the winter, where the deer feed on buds and needles.  The tannins in the needles and bark of the Hemlocks also creates the reddish-brown color of the streams and rivers in the park through runoff.*  All through my hike up to Government Peak, I marveled at the Hemlocks, seeing the effects of them everywhere I looked.  They are a living, dynamic presence which urged me to keep going, even as I tired.

Root growing over Rock

I found a sense of inspiration in the woods.  The Hemlock will not be daunted, giving me the idea that the next time someone challenges me to a game of Rock, Paper, Scissors, I want to be a Tree!

Throughout my hikes up the mountains, I forged ahead, I reached the top, and I came back down.  I followed the rules, carrying out my empty water bottles and granola bar wrappers.  Because God has given us this amazing place, but the DNR, hikers, and nature lovers are bestowed with the responsibility of keeping it amazing, I was careful not to disturb the balance or leave anything but footprints, and possibly a little bit of flesh and blood from my leg, but that's a story for another time.  I hope that someday, my husband will walk the mountains with me, and see what I've seen, and never cut down another healthy tree again.  Then again, he usually cuts them down when I'm not home, so if I'm not there to see the tree fall, did he really fell the tree?  That's his story, and he's sticking to it.

*All of the historical and environmental information in this post comes from The Last Porcupine Mountains Companion, Fifth Edition, by Michael Rafferty and Robert Sprague, published by Nequaker Natural History Associates, 2012.   I strongly recommend reading this book prior to a visit to the Porcupine Mountains.  It will not only give you helpful tips for exploring the park, but will also enhance your understanding of what you will experience here.

Can I Have A Moment, Please?

Lake Superior at Crisp Point

Sometimes, I just need a moment.  Maybe I need that moment to take a deep breath before I say something I shouldn't, or a moment to have a hissy fit wile I rant and rage and let out my frustration.  Most times, though, I need a moment to just be silent.  This usually involves sitting on a high bluff at the edge of the woods overlooking Lake Superior, which is where I plan to someday build my stone cottage and live out my days sitting on my bluff overlooking Lake Superior. And chopping firewood.

A couple of years ago, when I was going through a rough time, I started this blog as a catharsis of sorts, where I shared my moments of peace found while traveling in a vintage Airstream.  My tin can let me go places I had dreamed of my whole life.  I enjoyed sharing my stories so much, that I want to do more.  But life still intervenes and keeps me from traveling often enough to write about it full time.  I spent a considerable amount of time this summer thinking about how I could develop my blog when I only travel a few times a year.  I also spent a considerable amount of time this summer not writing, because the two dogs, two cats, husband, kids, and all their friends were a constant energy in the house that prevented me from writing.

I may have spent the first month of summer feeling frustrated and wishing more than anything that I could have just one hour to write, except I had nothing but my frustration to write about, and who wants to read that?  I may have let that feeling go on, except that I really enjoy being a positive person more than a negative one.  My good friend, Debbie, who shares so many of my adventures, reminded me, "it is what it is".  It was summer, and everyone was home.  I gave up trying to write (which also goes against my nature)  and started looking for the positive.  I found it.

Gotcha, Suzy!

In each day, somewhere in the chaos and noise and demands, I had a moment.  Suzy the Cat began a habit of climbing up the ladder to my daughter's bunk bed and stealing her stuffed frog animal.  I would find that frog in the oddest places, pick it up and return it to the bed, only to find it again in a new place the next day.  It became a game with me and my daughters.
Where would Suzy put the frog today?

There was a moment each morning, when my youngest daughter, The Wise One, would walk into the kitchen while I was having my second pot of coffee and sleepily murmur, "Good morning, Mom" followed by a hug.  It's always good to start your day with a fond greeting and a warm hug.  We would then proceed to place our bets for what item my older daughter, Birdie, would announce she needed to get from Target that day.  Birdie went to Target almost every day.  It's a disease, as is spending her paycheck before she gets another one.  We're working on that.

The couch is NOT for you, Rooney!

I had other moments, as well.  I rarely left the house this summer.  Why would I, when Birdie would be going to Target anyway and could pick up what I needed?  But a few times we met up with friends for an evening, giving me moments of laughter and companionship.  I watched my son, Fun Boy, growing into a fine young man this summer, who worked hard at his job all day and cheerfully helped out around the house.  I had many moments with Rooney the Newfoundland, but those are best left
unmentioned in my efforts to remain positive.  I settled in this summer, and while I admit I still had day after day of being frustrated with no peace, no time, and no privacy, I embraced that moment each day when my heart would warm with delight over my family and friends.

The Tin Can at Muskallonge Lake

This new-found emphasis on finding the good each day, taking the moments that were given to me and holding them, gave me some ideas on the direction my blog might take once school started and I had time again to write.  I have stories from a few trips I took this summer, but I need more.  Perhaps, instead of only writing periodically about my adventures in the tin can, I could fill my time with sharing the moments I find each and every day that give me peace beyond of the tin can.

Stop spinning, Rooney!

I already had one of those moments this morning.  In preparing for my upcoming escape to the mountains, I have been brushing Rooney's thick and unruly fur every morning, trying to loosen as much hair as possible before we go so my tin can doesn't accumulate an entirely new floor covering.  Rooney is pretty tolerant of being groomed, usually standing still until I tell him he can go.  However, this morning, I wanted to focus on his enormous tail, and he didn't like that so much.  I had to hold him by the collar with one hand and try to brush his tail with the other, while he kept spinning away from me.  He would spin, I would follow, he would spin again, I would follow again.  Long before I even made a dent in the massive amounts of hair on his tail, I became dizzy until I finally fell down and gave up.  See?  I told you moments with Rooney detract from my personal goal of being positive.  But at least these days, my house is quieter and I am finding time to think, write, and dream.

My son has returned to the University and is contemplating changing his major during his 3rd year.  I'm sure several moments will result from that.  The Wise One has entered Middle School and taken up running, following in the footsteps of her older sister.  Cross Country Meets are a great place for peaceful moments.  Birdie has moved to the big city to begin her Freshman year of nursing school, and gave me a really nice moment last week.  She called home and asked me if I had ever taken a Philosophy course in college.  I told her not only had I taken several, I taught Philosophy for many years at the college level.  She was surprised and duly impressed.  It's not often I can impress my children.  It was a really good moment.

Starting today, I plan to write often about my moments, good and bad, at home and in the tin can.  My goal is to connect with readers on a most basic level.  There are good days and bad days, ups and downs, and within each day is a moment to remember.  Sharing my moments with you will hopefully touch you so that you know you are not alone.  We can all love those peaceful moments together, and learn to laugh at ourselves during those not-so-peaceful moments.  Never forget, Rooney will be laughing at all of us during every moment.  He's good at that.

Have a spectacular day, and thanks for reading my blog!