A Little Slice of da Harbor...: What I just Herd

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

What I just Herd

I forgot to tell you that I'm on my annual trip to Wisconsin for Thanksgiving while Aaron hunts. The boys go to hunting camp, and the girls, Aaron's mom and I, hang out and do fun girl things.

Here in northwest Wisconsin, they got their first snow on Saturday. It snowed half the day and all the night and most of the next day. Probably about 5 inches stuck here. Then it was time for that dirty 'sh' word: shoveling. Shoveling was fun, though. In da Harbor, we have a plowing machine, so I don't often have to do it up there. It's good exercise, and Duce loves to catch the snow I throw off the shovel.

But you're probably thinking, "so what? It snows in Wisconsin. It snows in da UP. Why are you wasting my precious time telling me about this?" Chill out. It's my transition.

Are you ready for something really Wisconsiny? Yesterday Linda, Aaron's mom, and I were driving to Hayward. On one of the little roads by her house we saw something odd going on up ahead. I thought they were hunters on the road at first, but hunters don't wear black. Or weigh 500 pounds. They were cows. ON THE ROAD! Ha!

There must have been 20 cows wandering down this road, lost. As we drove by, they met up with another herd of cows behind their fence, probably to catch up on the latest moos. Some of them jogged down the road. Have you ever seen a cow jog on the road? I didn't know it was physically possible, but it sure was hilarious. The funniest sight of this whole spectacle was a pregnant cow trotting down the road to catch up with the others. I still chuckle when I envision that double wide belly bouncing dangerously over those stick legs.

I don't know if it's politically correct to laugh at big, pregnant, running cows, but I sure wish I got a video of that for you. They just looked at us and mooed as we drove by. We drove slowly as Duce starkly barked at the huge beasts. We then stopped at the neighbors to let them know about the cows, but they already called the owners. Apparently they had enough people to round them up because the cows were gone on our way back home.

Other than that, all is well. Happy Thanksgiving to you.

2 comments:

Denny From FLNovember 22, 2011 at 7:35 PM
When I lived in Indiana there was a road into town and it had the watch for the cattle signs and on some occasions we sat and waited as the farmer moved the herd out of the grazing field on to the road, then down the road, then into the barn side of the farm if that makes sense.
ReplyDelete
Replies
AmandaNovember 25, 2011 at 8:21 PM
Hey Dennis! Yup, I've seen that done before, but these cows definitely escaped. I wonder how it feels to be a cow out of the pen...
ReplyDelete
Replies

Add comment

Unofficial Overview from a Resident's Point of View

“If you’ve never been there, you wouldn’t understand” is a quote printed above an outlined picture of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula on a t-shirt sold in gift shops in the area. Some people cock their heads in bewilderment of what this could mean. Well, if you’ve never been there (to da U.P.), then you wouldn’t understand.

It’s simple really. Where are you guaranteed to see more trees than people on any drive or walk? Where can you sit in a bar in April and know everybody’s name? Where can you wear flannel and Carharts anytime of the year without a flinch from a passerby? Where can you end most of your sentence with the colloquialism eh, eh? Where can you go to truly get away from the civilized world? If you answered “da U.P.” to all of these questions, why, you must have been there.

Michigan’s Upper Peninsula makes up one third of the state’s land mass, but only 3% of its entire population. It’s no wonder the average number of people per square mile is 19.3. Nineteen people per square mile! Its lack of inhabitants combined with a plethora of wilderness, unique geographical features and an abundance of water is a big part of what makes the U.P. so unique. In fact, it was included in the Sherman Travel worldwide “Top 10 Places to Go in 2005."

And unique in itself, at the most northern tip in the Keweenaw Peninsula sits the little village of Copper Harbor. “Tops in Michigan,” “the beginning of the road” and quite frankly, the hardest place to leave once your soul has found its peace. It’s the least visited and most revisited place in America. Returning visitors make an appearance at least once a year, no matter what gas prices are. And when they’re back at home, they dream of their next visit to the end of the world.

Why would people want to return to a place where their cell phones don’t work and they can’t get a Big Mac for at least 54 miles? Once you drive through the one and only blinking stop light in town, you are 99% guaranteed not to see any authorities. The town can take care of itself for the most part, and people respect each other and each other’s property.

To the local residents and the handfuls of returning tourists (of which some have been adopted), Copper Harbor is the only place where they can be themselves -- completely and shamelessly (at least until the next morning). Fashion does not exist, but comfort is a must. Possessions mean nothing, but attitude means the world. Loitering is encouraged, and talk is ceaseless. Fresh air is plentiful, and serenity is down the block on Lake Superior’s shore. Ahhh.

Only 90 people can bear to live there year-round (good thing because the post office only has 130 mailboxes), but the population peaks around 250 in the busy summer months when people reopen their business or their summer home.

Copper Harbor and the rest of the Keweenaw Peninsula average 270 inches of snow each season. Whether it falls consistently throughout the winter or all in one dump, it’s guaranteed to fall if it isn’t drilling sideways. Only four businesses stay open through these long months because sometimes, there’s just nobody there.

U.S. Highway 41, which runs all the way to Miami, Florida, begins in Copper Harbor, and yes, it gets plowed the whole way up. A half mile north, six miles east and five miles south of this landmark puts you in magical Lake Superior. I know it’s magical because I’ve caught myself and many other people staring, mesmerized by its pure vastness, undulations and crashing waves.

When you can enjoy every breath of Lake Superior air, wear clothing soley for funtion and not mind seeing the same people day after day after day after day, then, my friend, then, you’ll understand.

A Little Slice of da Harbor...

Copper Harbor, That is!

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

What I just Herd

2 comments:

Unofficial Overview from a Resident's Point of View

Blog Archive