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In
The Outdoors,
by Lon L. Emerick
Code
of the North
It was one of those glorious evenings in August and the Upper Peninsula
was putting on quite a show for a friend and prospective new resident.
We had taken our guest out to Little Presque Isle, a showplace of this
area, for an evening stroll. The waves of the Superior Lake and the
wind in the pines combined to create a wondrous natural symphony.
When we paused to admire the white-capped lake and the shadows in the
slanting sun, a lone hermit thrush added his flute-like coda.
Even after all the years of enjoying this signature spot north of Marquette,
Lynn and I were awestruck. Then our companion said, “Now, if only
we could hear Bach playing in the background, this would be perfect.”
We were astonished by his remark: Why were the natural sounds and visual
beauty not enough?
As time goes on, more and more people will be coming north to seek the
quality of life we enjoy—open space, opportunities for solitude,
incredible beauty, availability of outdoor activities, a strong sense
of heritage, lack of crowds, locally owned businesses, two-track roads,
places where phones can’t reach us—the list goes on.
Some new residents, however, may be hooked on romantic myths about the
north, much more so than long-time residents. Far more alarming, they
have false expectations about bringing their urban/suburban lifestyles
into the great outdoors.
There is an unwritten code of conduct, usually respected by people living
in the Upper Peninsula. To be sure, the wild of the north has been tamed.
Consider the oxymoronic slogan developed by an out-of-state consulting
firm and adopted a few years ago by an area tourist association to lure
people here: “Discover how civilized our wilderness can be.”
Fortunately, for those of us addicted to wild places and natural settings,
there still are large tracts of forest to tramp, undeveloped rivers
to fish and a myriad of sparkling clean lakes to swim or launch a boat.
However, before seeking admission to this Superior Peninsula, a newcomer
will want to be aware of the realities of living in the isolated north
country; it presents far more challenges than urban or suburban life.
That is why we like it, and we harbor some anxiety that new residents
or visitors will arrive with certain expectations of comfort that lead
them to try to alter what we love.
Climate
Actually, we don’t have a climate in the U.P., we have weather.
Do we ever have weather! There is no way to gloss it over: we have long,
cold, snowy winters.
In order to survive and thrive here, you have to be able to find positive
values in the lengthy white season. (Have you ever spent time looking—really
looking—at snowflakes, or long blue shadows in January?) Finding
joy in winter here also requires strong inner resources to use the time
to learn and entertain oneself.
Insects
Blackflies, wood ticks, mosquitoes, deer flies. These critters descend
in hordes as soon as the snow melts. Don’t expect massive spraying
programs here.
Wildlife
There are bears in the woods (and sometimes in town), deer on the roads
(and sometimes eating plants in your yard), a thriving population of
timber wolves and lots of other smaller animals. It’s their home,
too, and they were here first.
Roads
There is no interstate highway in the U.P., except for one short section
from the Mackinac Bridge to Sault Ste. Marie. Most of the roads are
two-lane. There are many miles of gravel and two-track dirt roads to
explore.
If you choose to build your home in a remote area, don’t expect
the roads to be paved, the school bus to trundle out for your children,
water and septic service to be provided, electric wires to be strung
to your new location or the snowplow to show up early on the morning
after the big January storm. Rural living is what it is, and is likely
to remain so.
Transportation
Some planes, no trains, mostly cars for moving about up here. Be aware
that weather is a major factor in both flying and driving; it takes
more time to get somewhere and sometimes you can’t get there from
here.
Phones
There are places in this region where a cell phone will not work. Many
of us think that’s a good thing, as we view the proliferation of
tall, visible towers needed to carry those signals.
Emergencies
Keep in mind that the population is sparse and the distances are great,
so it may take longer for a first responder corps or ambulance crew
to reach you in the event of an accident or sudden illness.
Consumer items
Although the region is well on its way to possessing every chain superstore
known to Western civilization, there may be items or choices that frustrate
the urban-dweller or long-time lover of gigantic malls.
Employment
The options for gainful employment you may have enjoyed in more populous
areas will be much more limited here. Even if you are lucky enough,
or creative enough, to put together satisfactory work here, you may
have to be willing to trade the high salaries of the cities for other
values to be gained.
As a long-time lover of this wondrous Superior Peninsula, I worry what
the future may bring. The slower pace of life and the gentle rhythms
of the land are part of our being.
Will visitors or prospective immigrants embrace the whole experience
of living in the Upper Peninsula and add their enthusiasm, creativity
and skills to the community, or will they come with other, more material
values and attempt to alter us as well as the land? Will we morph into
a venue, not a place—a backdrop for activities and ways of living
that one could do anywhere?
I offer only this plea:
Please don’t come to the Upper Peninsula and try to alter the land
or our way of life. Don’t set about to change this place into the
place you have just left (or fled).
It is what it is, and we like it that way.
Rather, approach our beloved north country with reverence and awe.
Tuck yourself in here and let the land change you.
—Lon L. Emerick
Editor’s Note: This piece contains excerpts from You Wouldn’t
Like It Here—A Guide to the Real Upper Peninsula of Michigan by
Lon Emerick, which is to be released by North Country Publishing in
October 2005. Acknowledgment also to Code of the West, published by
Gallatin County.
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