Copper country’s bounty is not in its copper but in its beauty. The peninsula is dotted with small, historic towns, waterfalls, lighthouses and homes, ranging from quaint cottages to modern villas, line the shores. The coast is scenically rocky with pristine beaches in shallow, protected coves. The northern tip contains snug harbors where boaters can take refuge from the unexpected fog that rolls in from the lake’s cool depths. Chris and Jay spent hours traveling the roads beyond Calumet through Eagle River, Eagle Harbor, Mandan, Phoenix, Mohawk, Bete Grise and Gay.
One day they drove to Copper Harbor at the northern tip of the peninsula and toured Fort Wilkins State Park. It was created in 1844 to protect the miners from Indians. The Indians in the area were migratory and only came to the northern coastal areas in the summer to hunt and fish. Since the mining took place in the central part of the peninsula and most of the supplies the inhabitants needed arrived by ship or rail, the Indians didn’t feel threatened and were never a hostile presence. The fort was abandoned a few years after its creation.
Some of the buildings at Fort Wilkins State Park.
Situated on an inland lake, the overall size of the complex was reasonably small as there were less than 100 men assigned to it when it was active. The adult and child employees dressed in costumes of the period and spoke as if they lived there. The children were barefoot and played games in the central compound, while two young women sat in one of the enlisted quarters cabins, complaining about the long, cold winters they had to endure and how they had to go all the way to the harbor for water because the fort slaughter house made the lake water just outside their cabin unfit for consumption.
A young girl in costume.
Always on the lookout for hiking trails Chris found the Estivant Pines Nature Sanctuary noted in a brochure local to the Copper Harbor area. The directions took them down a rutty dirt road deep into the woods where they found, to their surprise, ample parking! The 500 acre tract sanctuary is home to 300 to 500 year old, three to five foot diameter White Pine. In the 1970s the Michigan Nature Association bought the land saving the ancients from a logging fate. Two loop trails took them through the home of these giants. At first there seemed nothing unusual about the forest - it was just trees and undergrowth - until they began to look closely at the diameters of some of the trunks. Their gazes followed the massive wooden pillars skyward to the top branches towering over all other forest life. Humbled by their magnificence, Chris and Jay were grateful that these specimens had been spared from the “take no prisoners” policies of the 19th and 20th century lumber trade.
Chris and one of the monstrous White Pines.
Jay had remembered a high, scenic road that he had driven with his parents when they visited him in the 60s. The Visitor Information rag identified it as the Copper Country Trail National Scenic Byway. They found it began at Copper Harbor and wound up the nearby hills, followed the top of the ridge and afforded sweeping views of Lake Superior to the west and gently rolling terrain dotted with lakes to the east from the numerous scenic overlooks. West Bluff, the highest point, was completely unprotected and they almost had to lean into the wind to stay upright while they walked around the loop road to read the signs and absorb the sublime views. The heavy, carved, wooden signs posted near the road informed them, among other trivia, that they were 726 feet above lake level and 1,328 feet above sea level. Not a bad ski run distance if you could handle the winds.
View of Copper Harbour from the Scenic Byway.
On another day’s drive they discovered Lake Linden, located southwest of Calumet. It sat at the north end of Torch Lake and retained the 19th century historic buildings on the main road through the heart of town. They stopped for lunch at the Lindell Chocolate Shoppe, an adorable café with the original 1920s décor of patterned tile floors, wooden booths, with juke box music selectors and stained glass wall lamps at each booth. The original wooden juke box stood centrally against the back wall. Memorabilia of days gone by, probably collected over the 80 years of continuous operation, were housed in built in glass cabinets covering one side wall near the front of the café. Chris was surprised to find a (mostly) vegan sandwich on the menu which was delicious and Jay sunk his teeth into a plate of an open-faced beef sandwich smothered in gravy with mashed potatoes – his meat fix for the week.
The ornately decorated wall at each booth with stained glass shade and juke box selector.
After lunch they continued south and discovered Tamarack City, the location of the Hungarian Falls listed in a guide that they could not find because the town wasn’t on any of their maps! Chris had been anxious to find it because the photograph in the guide looked so wonderful that she just had to try her hand at capturing it. They found what they believed was the road to the falls, parked and, equipped only with hiking boots, hats and point-and-shoot camera, began to hike around and around and around searching for the falls. (They started out so sparsely because Chris wanted to see the falls and confirm they were worth photographing before lugging all of her camera gear there.) Eventually they took a trail that led them back down the hill toward the town where they cut through a wooded area and located the stream. It was shallow and strewn with enough rocks and low banks that they started to hop from rock to rock, crossing the stream dozens of times as they made their way toward where they hoped to find the falls. After their experience at Siskiwit Falls they loved the idea of actually hiking through the water, but this time they didn’t have their sandals on and had to work a bit at staying dry. They could hear but not see the fall as they arrived at an area strewn with large boulders, fallen trees and deeper water. Deciding that the going had finally gotten too rough they were lucky enough to find a path up the steep hillside adjacent to the stream and it led to another path that followed the ridge to the falls. They were worth photographing but the trail took them to the top of the main fall and it was evident that it was only clearly visible, and therefore photographable, from the stream 50 feet below. A short distance further up the stream was a second, smaller, and actually more beautiful fall and beyond that a man-made dam created a fair sized pond. Content that they had adequately explored the stream’s meanderings Jay and Chris found a road leading away from the falls which took them to where they should have parked in the first place. It was decided that they would return the next day, fully equipped with water wading sandals and camera gear to photograph.
Some of the myriad of stones they stepped on while working their way up the stream.
The trip up the stream in sandals wasn’t quite as much fun as the day before because of the extra weight and bulk of the backpacks. To steady their balance in the rough areas, Chris used the tripod and Jay an adjustable walking pole. Persistence paid off and they emerged a little wet but triumphant at the base of the lower Hungarian Falls. The water flow wasn’t as profuse as the guide photograph but then again it was mid-July and the snows which provided that volume had melted months ago. Chris actually preferred the lighter flow as the water cascaded down layer after layer of rock creating multitudes of mini falls rather than one giant torrent. She located a slippery, narrow, knob of earth about 20’ above the water which provided a reasonably unobstructed view of the fall, set up the tripod and camera and, praying that it was all worth it, snapped away. Jay was content staying waterside with his magazine and reluctantly ascended the slippery slope to occasionally hand needed gear to Chris. When Chris had finished photographing they picked their way downstream through the boulders and fallen trees to the path they had ascended the previous day and set up at the upper falls. Chris spent more time photographing at this location as there was a greater variety of views while Jay found a comfortable rock at just the right height to sit on and settled in to read his magazines. Time passes quickly in such beautiful locations and with digital cards filled with a variety of views and the sun nearly setting they headed home chatting about the wonderful days they’d just experienced.
Upper Hungarian Falls
