Lake Superior


Finally, here. Lake Superior is the one I had been waiting for. Being the northern most of the Great Lakes, Superior is the end. It is the edge. Standing on its shore one looks north and out there is something else. Literally, of course, that something else is Canada. But I prefer the figurative or emotional sense of something else as, another world. Adventure.

The coastline of this lake always looked to me like someone’s hand posed to make a shadow puppet.

Yes, there are borders that reach further north. Those M states, Maine, Minnesota, & Montana are among those who got that covered.  And, one could make the argument that standing on some spot betwixt North Dakota and Manitoba is about as remote as you can get. Is there a more lost feeling than standing in the outlands of America, staring an imaginary line or fence posts lined up to the horizon, all the way east and all the way west?  Oh, to step across that line, with not another person in sight. Just some moose or wolf and the CIA looking down from a satellite to watch your every move.

I don’t want to be lost. I want adventure. Land has roads. Roads take you somewhere in particular. In a sea, there are no roads. You board a ship on your way through no man’s land, risking the elements, the waves & water. That is adventure. Standing on that beach, I’m thinking I need to crawl into a boat and sail of on some Lord of the Rings kind of quest. That is the mystery and danger of the lake that the Chippewa called Gitchigumi and the one whose most famous victim, the Edmund Fitzgerald was taken down in 100 mile an hour winds.

But our day would not be so risky. Heading out across Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, we were off to Green Bay, Wisconsin. In our Ford Freestar, we had to drive north, the opposite direction of our final destination, to get to the lake. It would be a whole day, interstate free. Nothing but Michigan state highways, passing through the Weedsports and Streators of the Wolverine State.

Our plan was the same as it was for Lake Huron. Drive to the coast and find a beach. Simple enough. Eventually, we came across the appropriately named, Sand Pointe Beach. At Huron and Michigan we took rocks from the water as souvenirs. But I combed that beach. I dug. There wasn’t a rock to be found. Nothing but beautiful soft sand from the parking lot, well out into the water. It was luxurious enough to make any Florida beach green with envy.

Not a rock to be found. My wife scooped up a cupful of sand, which has become my favorite souvenir.

But this sure wasn’t Florida and I don’t say that just because the mid-July ice water around my feet. Each of the lakes that we had visited had such beautiful views and vistas along with those visitor friendly beaches. What the Great Lakes have that Florida doesn’t, is a lack of development. Looking out to sea, there were long forested patches of the coast and a watery horizon that seemed as if they would have looked no different to a traveler in 1950, a sailor in 1850, a prospector in 1750, an explorer in 1650, or an American Indian in 1550.  

 

And that water was cold. Ninety degrees outside but the kids were quite tentative, taking baby steps into the frigidness. That is until mom came screaming by, kicking water and splashing. Ice water on their heretofore unexposed skin made them jump like they were jolted with a defibrillator. AWAKE they were, suddenly, stomping and splashing about themselves.  With a few hours of driving ahead of us, our Superior trip was short, but did not disappoint.

 

When I look at a map of the United States, my eyes are drawn to my place. I grew up in Illinois and when I looked at a map, Lake Superior was always at the top.  The North Coast. Setting foot in this lake was one thing that I have always wanted to do. But there has to be more. I need to take my Lake Superior dream up a notch. But how? Can you make the realization of a life long dream even better? I could go to Duluth.