This is a rare photograph of the Fairy Arch. Most pictures of it left today are drawings.
One of the popular attractions on Mackinac Island is the Arch Rock. This beautiful limestone formation is seen by most visitors to the Island, but at one time, there was another limestone arch formation called the “Fairy Arch.”
The Fairy Arch was one of the Island’s must-see attractions and countless visitors would make the trek out to view it. It was located on the east side of the Island near Mission Point Resort and Robinson’s Folly. Though not as large as Arch Rock, it created a limestone tunnel that could be walked through creating a magical experience.
The Native Americans believed that giant fairies inhabited the east part of the island. The arches were how the fairies entered the Island. Fairy arch was for the fairy children while Arch Rock was where the adult giant fairies entered. They must have been really big fairies. Fairy Arch was one of the many breathtaking sites on Mackinac Island.
In the 1940s, the Fairy Arch was demolished. One source says it was destroyed for an environmental mitigation project while others say it was due to construction of a road to a private residence resulted in the arch being destroyed. It was a stupid shortsighted project in a place where roads aren’t really needed.
The Fairy Arch, unfortunately this did not survive into the modern day.
The Norrie Mine was one of the prominent mines at Ironwood.
I received a few historical pictures from Ironwood. I wanted to pass them along as it has been difficult for me to find pictures from the west end of the Upper Peninsula. Above is the Norrie Mine. It was the first mine in Ironwood. Named after A. Lanfear Norrie, an explorer leading an expedition looking for iron, he found it. They sank a mine which was named after the discoverer and it became an extremely successful operation.
This old stereoview shows the view of Ironwood from the Norrie Mine.
Ironwood began as the camp for Norrie’s expedition. The foreman of the expedition was named Captain James Wood, nicknamed “Iron,” would receive the honor of the new settlement’s name, Ironwood. The town would soon prosper with mining operations springing up all around.
The view of Ironwood from the Ashland Mine. The city was growing quickly.
Ironwood grew fast. Looking closely at the photo above, several mine shafts can be seen on the horizon. The city is growing and the mines are running at full production. Almost all of the trees are gone. This was the beginning of what would be known as the Gogebic Iron Range. It would give life to communities all around, thriving off of iron mines. There were even attempts at gold and silver mining. Some did well with it while others did not.
This picture is titled “White Way” and shows downtown Ironwood at night in the early 1900s.
To this day Ironwood is a nice town to spend some time in. Much of it still has its turn of the century feel and remnants of its prosperous and historical past is represented all around.
Ironwood downtown today as the sun sets for evening.
A rare photo of the Ropes Gold Mine near Negaunee. This was taken 1860s near its beginning.
Over the last couple of months, I’ve come across some really nice mining pictures. I thought I would post them up for everyone to check out. The picture above is of the Ropes Gold Mine which was located north of Negaunee and Ishpeming. The mine was established in 1881 by Julius Ropes and produced consistent quantities of gold until 1897. It was reopened for a few years in the 1980s. News of the Ropes opening prompted a gold rush to Ishpeming. Suddenly there was no less than 13 gold mines in the surrounding area all producing some gold and silver.
The Ohio Iron Mine
This is a picture of the crew of the Ohio Iron Mine near Michigamme.
The iron range of the Marquette region was full of iron mines. Dozens of them operated west of Marquette nearly the entire distance to L’Anse. The Ohio Mine was one of them and was west of Michigamme. It opened in 1907 and operated for 7 years. It produced low grade ore and wasn’t profitable. The picture shows the mining crew of the Ohio. No shortage of man power here. This has to be close to 1914 when the mine shut down. It was briefly reopened in the 1950s as an open pit mine by Cleveland Cliffs International (CCI).
New York Mine
This is the interior of the New York Iron Mine located near Ishpeming.
The New York Mine was a hematite operation. Beginning in 1864, the New York produced high grade hematite iron ore. Located in Ishpeming, it was part of the iron boom that fueled the entire region. It gave out in 1919. The New York lasted longer than many mining operations and provided the raw materials for the industrial revolution. The picture shows the interior of the New York Mine in its early days of 1870.
Lake Superior Iron Mine
A small iron mining operation. The location and name is unknown.
Iron mining was prevalent throughout the central and western Upper Peninsula. Small companies started up and then crashed as quickly while other companies flourished with the rich deposits iron. This picture shows one of those small operations. Labeled simply as “Lake Superior Iron Mining,” it is an unknown digging probably somewhere around Ishpeming or Negaunee. Though they are hard to see, there are four miners in the background of the photo. Piles of ore and the mine entrance can be clearly seen. Mining was rough, hard and dangerous work.
Victoria Copper Mine
Riding the Rock Skip. The mining company warned men against doing this and taking ladders instead, but it was a common practice anyway.
Victoria is a copper mining ghost town near Rockland. It can still be visited today. The Victoria Mine was notorious for its safety problems, injuries and death were common. The picture, “riding the skip cart,” shows one of the miners going down into the shaft doing something that was against company rules. It was simply quicker and a couple of fatalities resulted from this. Victoria mine operated for nearly 50 years and was a solid copper producer.
I thought it might be fun to look back at some of the fashions of days gone by as represented by historical photos of the fashionable ladies of the Victorian era.
These unknown ladies are decked out for their picture. This one is from Crystal Falls.
These ladies look like they found their best hats for this photo session. This unknown group of women were from Crystal Falls. From the hairstyles to the ruffled dresses, This picture is great fun.
A picture from Menominee unknown woman with 1890s winter coat and muffler.
This woman from Menominee is dressed for the winter cold. Her fur lined coat and muffler say she’s ready for some outdoor fun. That muffler could hold a clandestine bottle of brandy well concealed.
Several ladies of the 1890s relax on a porch on Mackinac Island.
On Mackinac Island everyone dresses their best no matter what time of day. These Victorian ladies relax on a porch enjoying the Lake Huron breeze. We all know life on the island is easy and they seem to be making the most of it.
An unknown Ojibwa Princess in beautiful hand-made clothing.
This picture was taken from a stereoview and was labeled Ojibwa Princess at Sault Ste. Marie, Michigan. Unfortunately, no name was attached to the picture. I wish the picture had a little more detail of the intricate beadwork on the shoulders. A truly wonderful example of Native American fashion capturing the traditional dress of Ojibwa culture, her leather and bead finery shows the love and care that went into that dress.
This little girl from Sault Ste. Marie shows children weren’t immune to the Victorian dress either.
This little girl has the look that means business. She does not look like she and getting pictures taken agree. Maybe that lace collar is a little tight. She looks like she could hold her own in a bar fight.
The Lypsinmaas sisters pose from Red Jacket showing the fashions from the Keweenaw.
From the Keweenaw we get the Lypsinmaas sisters. This is the hot look from the Keweenaw but admittedly, the fingerless gloves say things are pretty cool. The woman on the right looks like she’s headed for Roswell, NM for a UFO convention with that hat. The one in the middle looks like she’s auditioning for a George Romero movie.
This old picture from Crystal Falls shows the horse drawn winter delivery sleigh. The Neboshshon Dairy operated around 1900. The advertising on the side says “All cows tuberculum tested annually.” It’s Ayershire Milk is “Clean milk for clean people, good milk for good babies.” The delivery man is unidentified and the same for the photographer.
A group sits around the campfire at Big Manistique Lake in Curtis, MI
Camping at Big Manistique Lake in 1873 – Curtis, MI
These people look like they are having a great time. This picture was dated 1873 and labeled that it was taken at Curtis on Big Manistique Lake. As to who these folks are? Nothing is said. On the left is a Native American family. One guy is holding a trout creel and his fish net is on his back. Another is smoking a long pipe while a guitar player strums a few tunes. The outdoors clothing shows the period perfectly. This is a gem and probably one of a kind.
This is an old building from Republic, MI. The vintage architecture is worth noting. Its use was unknown.
Rare photo of Victorian Building – Republic, Michigan
This picture is from an old stereoview from the mining town of Republic. The building’s use isn’t told, but the figures in the picture are children. This makes me think this is either an orphanage, a school, or a boarding house. There is nothing to indicate its use.
Whaleback barges docked at Sault Ste. Marie. These now extinct ships once were common on the Great Lakes.
Whaleback barges docked at Sault Ste. Marie, Michigan
These unusual ships are no extinct on the Great Lakes. These were made in Superior, Wisconsin, and were considered a better idea than shipping ores with schooners. At one time 44 of these ships sailed all through the lakes and delivered iron ore, coal, grain, and other commodities. Eventually they would be replaced by the modern ore freighter which still operates today.
The SS Athabasca the ship that rammed the S.S Pontiac.
For those that don’t know, the St. Mary’s River supports the shipping for much of this country’s and Canada’s economy. The river connects Lake Superior with Lake Huron and any ships that travel to or come from Lake Superior must travel through its winding course. The waterway is dotted with islands which narrow the travelable route in many places. As long as there has been ships and boats on the Great Lakes, the St. Mary’s River has provided the route for water transportation.
It is not surprising then, like the rest of the Great Lakes, the St. Mary’s River has seen shipping accidents and shipwrecks along its course. This sets the stage for the story of a collision in 1891. Two ships, one downbound and one upbound, collide in the mid-morning hours in a deadly accident.
On July 14 between the hours of 10 and noon, reports vary on the exact time, an ore carrier by the name of the steamship Pontiac, owned by Cleveland Mining Company (eventually Cleveland Cliffs Mining Company), was downbound on the St. Mary’s River when it was rammed by a passenger ship named the Athabasca owned by the Canadian Pacific Railway.
The Athabasca struck the Pontiac so hard, that it tore a hole in the Pontiac’s bow that was nearly 25 feet deep causing the Pontiac to sink within two minutes. The ship sank in 30 feet of water leaving a portion of the top deck above water. The Athabasca sailed on and made it to Sault Ste. Marie carrying a large portion of the Pontiac’s upper decking lodged on its bow like a trophy of conquest.
Eyewitness Account of the Wreck
An account of the collision is given by one of the crew members of the Athabasca in one of the newspapers at the time.
“When approaching the Pontiac, the barge blew two whistles, the signal to pass on the port side. The Athabasca whistled she would do so. As the two steamers approached each other the Pontiac whistled for the Athabasca to take the other side and changed her course with that object. Capt. Foote, of the Athabasca, however kept his course seeing it was too late to avoid a collision and the Athabasca’s bow struck the Pontiac about ten feet from the bow, cutting into her massive frame with a series of terrific crashing reports as the pats gave away. She is said to have penetrated the barge to a distance of twenty-five feet! The unlucky wheelsman, who was in his berth, lay right in the path of destruction and was taken out a few minutes later, with both legs broken and his head horribly crushed. He died after suffering some hours. When the Athabasca was released from the barge, she carried with her some 10 or 12 feet of the upper deck which had been nearly lifted onto her forward deck in the collision. The Pontiac went down within two minutes afterward and lies with all of her promenade deck above water, a most imposing wreck as she is represented in the photographs taken soon after the disaster. She is the largest barge on American waters, a magnificent iron vessel sixty feet longer than the Athabasca and was one of the three monsters built at Buffalo in 1889 for the Cleveland Iron Mining Company. The iron ore with which she was loaded will have to be removed before she can be raised. The shock of the collision on the Athabasca was severe but happily no one on either steamer was hurt with the exception of the wheelsman on the Pontiac.
“It was nearly noon when the accident occurred and the tables on the Athabasca were being laid for lunch. The dishes and edibles were sent flying in every direction, much to the damage of the carpet of the elegant saloon. The noise of the collision was frightful, and those within, especially, those who knew nothing of the danger until the shock came, remember the feeling they then experienced as long as they will live. The Athabasca is said to have been moving very slowly, and it is now reported that she was backing up at the time of the collision. However this may be, it appears to have been the opinion of the passengers that the Athabasca’s Capt. Foote was not to blame. The Athabasca carried the Pontiac’s Captain Lowes and crew to Sault Ste. Marie, except a few men who were left in charge of the sunken vessel. The Athabasca remained there until midnight on Saturday when she left for Detroit where she will undergo repairs.” – Meaford Monitor, July 1891.
The SS Pontiac sunk after being rammed. The top part of the deck still above water.
There arose considerable controversy over the erratic behavior of Capt. Lowes and the Pontiac. He was known for being a bit of a showoff and felt his ship was hot stuff. He had a reputation for hogging the waterways with his shiny new, larger than everyone else’s, ship. Soon accusations flew from both sides, American and Canadian. Some said that the Athabasca had run into the Pontiac on purpose. According to most accounts, if it wasn’t for Capt. Foote’s quick thinking it might have been the Athabasca that was rammed with all of their passengers aboard. There was one other detail which may have influenced Capt. Foote’s thinking.
A Load of Dynamite!
The Athabasca was owned by the Canadian Pacific Railroad. Earlier on the Athabasca was tasked with picking up a small load of dynamite for use on a CPR project. Capt. Foote objected to doing this but the company insisted so the Athabasca took it aboard. This was on Foote’s mind when the encounter with the Pontiac occurred. If the Athabasca would have been rammed by the Pontiac, the possible resulting explosion from the cargo of dynamite could have gave this a much worse outcome. It is very possible the Captain did ram the Pontiac on purpose to prevent the Pontiac from hitting it and setting off the dynamite.
Due to pressure from insurance companies, Capt. Foote of the Athabasca was fired though the company didn’t blame him. He remained on good terms with them until his death. The blame for the collision rest squarely on the shoulders of Captain Lowes and his arrogance with his ship. Capt. Foote had no choices, it was ram or be rammed. Carrying a load of dynamite, it was really no choice at all.
The Great Northwestern Hotel that was in Marquette around 1860-1870.
Marquette’s Great Northwestern Hotel
Over the years, most cities in the Upper peninsula each had their legendary hotels. Sault Ste. Marie had the Iroquois Hotel, Escanaba had the Ludington House, and Houghton had the Douglass House. These places were the height of luxury for their time and prided themselves on that reputation. It was an era for the traveler and passenger ships and trains abounded. Travelling in style was the rage and these luxury hotels rose up to meet the challenge.
One of those was the Northwestern Hotel in Marquette. Catering to the rich and elite, the hotel was the ultimate place to stay in Marquette’s early years beginning around 1860. Its exact date is unknown. Marquette was founded around 1850 centered around the beginning of the iron mines. As the iron mining grew, travelers came to the region from places like New York, Cleveland, Detroit, and Boston looking to invest in mining. They needed someplace to stay that catered to their east coast lifestyles. The Northwestern Hotel provided exactly that.
The hotel had over 100 family rooms and was three stories high. The lower level had a dining room that seated 125. There were three adjoining cottages, one had 17 rooms while the other two had 6. The south side bordered the residential section of Marquette. The courtyard had a fountain, reputed to have been stocked with brook trout. Also for the guests’ convenience was croquet courts, swings, benches and sidewalks. An outdoor bandstand provided a venue for music during the summer months. The hotel provided a dock for sailboats and rented row boats for guests to paddle around Marquette Harbor.
The hotel was located on the lower harbor shore north of Gaines Rock. It was in a grove of pines and maples with a breathtaking view of Lake Superior and the harbor. It was situated only a block from the early business district. There is an age-old story that Mary Todd Lincoln came there to recover from her husband’s assassination, but there is no evidence anywhere that she did.
The Northwestern’ reputation reached well into the Midwest and the east touting the “best summer hotel” which prompted many to spend their entire summers at the Northwestern. With excellent fishing in Lake Superior and the lake’s cool breezes, the Northwestern promoted itself as a place to stay for the betterment of your health. In 1882 it burned to the ground. Its days were over but by then other establishments had been built and were there to fill in the gap left by the Northwestern.
A drawing of the grounds of Marquette’s Northwestern Hotel.
The Union Mine site in 1889 on the eastern part of the Porcupine Mountains in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.
Union Mine, rare historical photo – Silver City, Michigan
I recently came across a rare stereoview card with the picture above on it. I hadn’t seen a picture of the Union Mine before. As a frequent visitor to the Porcupine Mountains Wilderness State Park, it is hard to ignore the “Union” name as one drives into the park. Union Bay, Union Springs, Union River and Union Mine. All crop up near the entrance to the Porkies.
Because the Union Mine only operated for a very few years, images of it are few and far between. The stereoview also came with an inscription on the back. “Union Mine (deserted), Lake Superior. On Porcupine Mountain, 20 miles west of Ontonagon, Michigan, 1889. Mother and I and Mr. & Mrs. James E. Crooker camped here for several days. Had a fine time. H.C.K.” (No idea who H.C.K. is.)
In the mid 1840s, the copper rush began and the Union Mine was one of the earliest. It began in 1846 and lasted a little over a year. Run by the Union Copper Country, they went hard until the next year. In 1847 copper prices dropped and the Union Mine was deemed unprofitable. There were reports that some amount of silver was mined too. Silver was found along with the copper in several of the mines around Ontonagon. It is how Silver City got its name.
The Union Mine remained a hole in the ground until the 1860s and the Civil War. It was then reopened and reclosed with the end of the war, copper prices dropping again forcing the mine to shut down.
In 1908 the Union mine was opened up for exploration by the Calumet Hecla mining Company but it was determined again to be unprofitable to open. It was never again mined. Though it didn’t operate for long, its memory remains hearkening back to days of wilderness and exploration.
A schooner barge is being loaded up with cargo at the Escanaba, Michigan coal dock.
Historical Photos – Escanaba, Michigan – Lake Michigan’s Northern Port.
Escanaba was founded as a northern port city in 1863. It established itself as a link to the Marquette Range iron ore. Iron was shipped from Marquette by railroad to Escanaba. The route saved time shipping from Marquette through the recently established Soo Locks and then downbound through the St. Mary’s into the upper Great Lakes. During the Civil War, this became a main supply point for the union army thirsty for iron ore to produce weapons and ammunition.
An unidentified man sits along the edge of the Escanaba River near one of the local rock formations.
Escanaba was founded upon an early Ojibwa village. The name “Escanaba” came from an Anishinaabe word meaning “Land of the Red Buck.” It is easy to understand why a tribe would have settled there with the large bay, the Escanaba River providing an abundance of fish. The bays De Noc (Big and little) are a reference to the tribe of Noquet that flourished there.
From the beginning, Escanaba thrived as a port and as a city. It’s strategic importance for shipping and commerce can’t be understated. As mining increased across the U.P. with mines opening in Iron Mountain, Iron River and Crystal Falls, all began shipping their ore out of Escanaba.
Added to this, the logging boom began. The timber resources from the surrounding area were rich. Like other parts of the U.P, the timber of the west end was thick and ripe for harvesting. The Escanaba River was a perfect artery for floating the logs to Lake Michigan.
The Sand Point Lighthouse in Escanaba was essential for shipping and marking the port in bad weather.
With the fast growing shipping, it was deemed necessary that a lighthouse should be placed in Escanaba. The Sand Point Lighthouse has shown since 1868 and it was lit by a woman. It warned mariners of a sand bar that was at the entrance to Escanaba Harbor. Construction began on Sand Point in 1864 and the first lightkeeper was named John Terry. He oversaw the construction and prepared the lighthouse for occupation along with his wife, Mary. Just before the light was supposed to be lit, John Terry died. Sand Point was scheduled to begin its beacon on May 13, 1868. Mary Terry made sure that happened and took over for her husband. She was officially appointed lightkeeper making her one of the very first women lightkeepers on the Great Lakes. Mary would serve until 1888 when she was killed in a freak fire in the lighthouse. Mrs. Terry would become one of several women who would faithfully serve in the Lighthouse Service.
A street view of Escanaba with the trolley running down the middle of Ludington Street.
Escanaba grew to over 3,000 in the 1880’s. The population has grown to over 15,000 at its peak and is around 12,000 today. It remains a thriving community and is one of the Upper Peninsula’s larger cities. It is still an active port. At one time, the docks of Escanaba were frequented by a pirate named “roaring” Captain Dan Seavey. He would raid ships and then sell the captured cargo wherever he could. (More on Dan Seavey)
Out for an afternoon drive in Escanaba. The people are unidentified.
The picture above is for a personalized postcard sent in 1917 taken in Escanaba. They had this picture taken to show off their new automobile. It was a new thing then and it appears they bought the best one they could find. Scarves are wrapped, the top is down and a cruise along Bay de Noc is warranted. There are no names on this to identify anyone other than the person it was sent to in Detroit.
Smelting is an early season sport. Thousands of the fish would run up the streams every spring. These ladies are all ready to scoop them out.
Though Escanaba is a working town, the Paper mill and a college keeps the city thriving. It is also a tourist destination with legendary fishing in Lake Michigan, local lakes and streams. There is a place for any kind of outdoor recreation no matter what the preference.
A dog sled race in Downtown Escanaba breaks up a long winter with some fun.
Even winter has its appeal here. Though wind coming off Lake Michigan can be brutal, winter activities are a part of the culture. Skiing, sledding, and ice fishing on Bay de Noc have been an ingrained part of the culture.
A historical photo of the Tilden House boarding house. It no longer stands.
Escanaba has had an eventful history and continues forward into the future of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula.
The East Channel Brewing Company Building in Munising.
East Channel Brewing Company – Munising
Text by Jon C. Stott.
Along the first twelve miles of the winding County Road 58 from Grand Marais to Munising are two or three scenic pull-offs offering striking views of Lake Superior. One of the most interesting is at Hurricane River Campground, where a mile-and-a-half, pedestrian-only dirt road bordering the shore line leads to the historic Au Sable Light Station. Along the way are signs pointing toward the sandy beach indicating the locations of the remains of boats wrecked over a century ago. Close to Munising, a road leads off to Miners Castle, a scenic overlook of the Pictured Rocks. Coming into the town of just over 2,000 people, County road 58 passes one of the mills that has provided the major source of income for a large number of the residents. While the mill still operates, tourism has also become an extremely important “industry” for the area. Two new craft breweries play not insignificant roles in that industry.
East Channel Brewing, which is named after the stretch of water between the eastern shore of Grand Island and the mainland, began serving its beer in 2016. It is situated just over three blocks from the departure point for the Pictured Rocks boat cruises in a small building that has housed a horse stable, a sign shop, a glass factory, and, most recently, district social services offices. On the lower floor of the taproom on a shelf overlooking the bar is a life-size carving of Itchee, the seagull mascot who is pictured on all of the can labels. Refinished floors and wall paneling give the place the dark and comfortable look of a “snug,” an English pub where locals could enjoy a pint at the end of the day. Behind the taproom stands the 3.5 barrel brewhouse. The upper story is much brighter, as full windows look out onto the street and let in cheery sunshine. Pew-like benches along the walls and a table piled with board games enhance the English pub feel. The cozy atmosphere is what co-owners Joe DesJardins and Ted Majewski intended. “We wanted something for locals who were looking for a quiet place to unwind, relax and have a quiet conversation,” Joe told me when I first visited East Channel in the late spring of 2017. “This is about craft beer and it’s for the people who enjoy it. We welcome tourists, but we are here for the locals.”
DesJardins and Majewski had met when Ted began dating Joe’s sister. Joe, a home brewer, convinced Ted that the hobby could be very interesting. The two had different tastes in beer. Although both were fans of Bell’s Brewery of Kalamazoo, Joe’s favorite was Two Hearted Ale, a big, hoppy beer; Ted’s, the rich, malty Best Brown. When they opened East Channel in 2016, their beer list reflected this diversity. “We wanted to give people a range of colors, a range from light to full-bodied, and a range from lower to higher alcohol,” Joe, who handles most of the brewing, explained.
When they opened, they installed a small canning machine behind the bar. It was capable filling two cans a minute and was intended as a service for in-house patrons who wanted to take some of the beers they enjoyed back to their homes, motels, or campsites. After a year or two, they installed a new one capable of filling eight cans a minute, so that they could supply six packs to local grocery and party stores. Now, Joe told me, they had purchased one that could fill thirty to fifty cans a minute. It would be part of a planned twenty-barrel facility that would produce enough beer for them to distribute across the Upper Peninsula.
Tourists are still very welcome at the East Channel tap room. “But we’re still very much here for the locals. They have become very knowledgeable about the various craft brew styles and are often making suggestions to us.” Joe said that the brewery is part of two communities: the community in which they live and the community of craft brewers. “Four years after we opened, ByGeorge started up just a couple of blocks away. We work together as brewers and we often sponsor community events together.”
Joe described the house style as beers that are approachable. “We have the familiar range of craft beers and we try to avoid making any of them too bitter.” One that was at the high end of bitterness and strength, at 7.6 percent ABV and 90 IBUs is Old Tru IPA, named after DesJardin’s great-great-grandfather, a Munising pioneer who grew hops. The label declares that it’s “an IPA like the man … simple and honest.” Based on one of Joe’s homebrew recipes, it is hop-forward, with the mix of Amarillo, Mosaic, Falconer’s Flight, Citra, Warrior, and Simcoe hops supplying fruity, piney, citrusy, and herbal flavors, along with a bracing bitterness. At the other end of the spectrum is Paradise Waitin’ Blueberry Lager (ABV 4 percent), East Channel’s take on the Upper Peninsula’s most popular style. “It’s like a pilsner,” DesJardins said. “There are pils malts, honey malts, and flaked rice to give it a gentle malt backbone, Saaz hops provide a crisp, clean spiciness, and a hint of blueberry.
Hobo Nectar Lager (ABV 4.6 percent) is the brewery’s crossover beer. Light-bodied, it has a spicy hoppiness, a gentle malt background, and crisp finish. Island’s Grand as Always Blood Orange Hefeweizen (ABV 5 percent) is about summer in two ways: the name of the beer comes from Joe’s father’s saying about warm afternoons finishing around nearby Grand Island, and the light-bodied hefeweizen infused with blood orange puree is a fine summer afternoon thirst-quencher. The pilsner malts give it a light body and the red wheat malt the distinctive taste of a favorite German style. Lake Street Stout (ABV 5.7 percent) is East Channel’s way of saying, “Don’t be afraid of the Dark.” An oatmeal stout, it doesn’t have the overly roasty flavors of many stouts, and finishes clean and crisp. “It’s very light-bodied for a stout,” DesJardins explained.
This is a postcard from around 1900 of the Aurora Mine shaft F in Ironwood, MI.
Time to take a journey, a small look back at Ironwood in its heyday. Built on the Michigan / Wisconsin border in 1885, the area became known for its rich deposits of iron on what became known as the Gogebic Range. Mines sprang up all around Ironwood including the Norrie, Aurora, Ashland, Newport, and Pabst. Mining is not without its hazards.
Miners heading down deep into the mine shafts. They rode down sometime to nearly a mile underground. It could drop as fast as 1000 feet per minute.
In September of 1929, after unusually heavy rains, a portion of the Pabst Mine collapsed trapping 40 men. 3 men were killed when an elevator snapped, causing a rock collapse which trapped the others. A massive rescue operation began immediately. The only nourishment they had after their workday lunch ran out, was tea they made from birch bark scraped from the wooden planks lining the mine walls and heated with the miners’ carbide lamps. For five days they waited, while those on the surface frantically worked to reach the trapped miners. When they finally did, all of them were still alive. Over 5,000 residents gathered to watch the lucky miners emerge from the mine.
This picture is of an Ironwood leatherhead football player. The only name I have for him is Ben.
Ironwood has always been a strong community. There are a large number of churches and always saw itself as an upright community, unlike its twin city on the Wisconsin side of the border, Hurley. The two towns are separated by the border and the Montreal River. In its early days Hurley was a dangerous town to be in, 60 saloons in one block, could lead to disaster at any time. Ironwood prided itself in being the opposite. Somehow the rough elements seemed to stay on the Wisconsin side of the river.
Ironwood had organized sports and schools that provided top notch educations. North Ironwood is the home of Gogebic Community College. Ironwood’s Luther Wright high school would the first built and to this day, the old high school is still educating an enrollment of 600 students.
Early postcard view of Suffolk Street in Ironwood.
Because of the high producing iron mines, Ironwood was a prosperous town. Ironwood got its name, not because of the tree (Ironwood), but was named after one of the mining captains, James Wood. His nickname was “Iron”, so he was called Iron Wood. Many of Ironwood’s original buildings still stand and the remnants of the iron days stand as relics to its past. A tour around town can reveal many sites of Ironwood’s iron days of yore. It is a still thriving community that takes pride in its history.
Portrait of unknown group of gentlemen in late 1800s. They seem dressed for an evening on the town.
For more information on Ironwood, check out these links.
Cold Iron Brewing is located in Ironwood in the Western U.P.
Ironwood is a special place in the U.P. Sitting on the border to Wisconsin with its twin city Hurley, Ironwood has a deep history that can be seen today simply by driving through it. Many of its early buildings still stand and the remnants of the iron mining days can be found everywhere. Ironwood is a place that always warrants a visit and will take you back to the U.P.’s wild and early past.
Ironwood’s past is founded on iron mining so it is appropriate for their brewery to be named Cold Iron. Though the reference is from a Kipling poem, “Gold is for the mistress, silver for the maid, copper for the craftsman cunning at his trade.” “Good,” said the Baron, sitting in his hall, “But Iron, Cold Iron, is master of them all,” it somehow seems to reflect the indomitable spirit of Ironwood.
Welcome to Cold Iron!
Evening in downtown Ironwood.
The text below is by Jon C. Stott.
In 2017, I decided to drive into Ironwood from the west along Business Route 2, which passed through Hurley, Wisconsin, one of the “hell towns in the pines” during the later nineteenth century. Driving down Hurley’s Silver Street, I counted twenty bars and taverns, some of them displaying large signs announcing that their establishments featured “Hollywood Dancing Girls.” Crossing the Montreal River into Michigan, I missed the turn to Cold Iron Brewing and enjoyed a brief tour of downtown Ironwood. I saw a couple of bars, but no signs for dancing girls. What did catch my attention were signs pointing to the Downtown Art Park, the Downtown Art Place and the historic Ironwood Theatre. Circling the block I noticed another sign pointing the direction to the Belle Iron Trail, a part of the North Country Trail.
Seeing the signs reminded me of an article I’d read about a plan the civic leaders of Ironwood had developed a decade or so ago to make the downtown area more attractive to both the local citizens and tourists who might otherwise pass by on the main route of Highway 2 that ran north of the city. This plan was partly responsible for the creation in 2017 of Cold Iron Brewing, the first local brewery since the pre-Prohibition era. The idea was not only to provide parks, museums, art galleries and hiking trails, but also to encourage the opening of coffee shops, small restaurants, and a craft brewery as “third places” where friends and strangers could gather.
Cold Iron Brewery is a popular place and well worth the effort to stop in.
At around this time, John Garske and his wife, Lee-Ann, had spent many vacations visiting craft brewpubs and taprooms around the Midwest and had thought that opening one in downtown Ironwood would be very good idea. They gathered a group of interested friends and began planning. One of the people they talked to was Andy Warren, who also had a plan. “I was in a dead-end job and started making a business plan for a craft brewery. I’d been a home brewer, I really liked craft beer, and I wanted to get out of what I was doing. My wife is from here and through her I met John and his group.”
The goals of the civic planners, Garske and his friends, and Warren coincided and Garske, friends, and Warren began taking steps to form a craft brewery and taproom in downtown Ironwood. They purchased a building that had housed administrative offices of the United States Forest Service, started filling out the seemingly endless forms to be submitted to local, state, and federal officials, began renovating the space and setting up a brewhouse, and chose a name: Ironwood Brewing. It seemed like a simple and appropriate choice. But they ran into obstacles. A woman in Valparaiso, Indiana, had converted her house into a nanobrewery and taproom and had named it after a tree in her backyard, an ironwood tree. The Michigan group had to change its chosen name and called the soon-to-open brewery Cold Iron, a reference to a particularly strong and pliable metal found deep in the earth and to a poem by Rudyard Kipling about forgiveness.
The quote by Kipling from which Cold Iron Brewery derives its name displayed on the brewery wall.
When I finally found the brewery and entered the front door, I was amazed at the size of the taproom. Nearly all of the front two-thirds of the building had been transformed into one very large space, the largest taproom I was to see in an Upper Peninsula brewery. There was a high ceiling with wood beams, and large windows around two sides made the room bright and airy. Big though it was, it seemed to be divided into separate areas: there were bar stools around the serving area, tables low and high, a lounge area, a shuffleboard area, and a small performance space. A backdoor led to a patio. “There are lots of spaces for people to do different things. We don’t just want them to come here to drink beer; we want them to bring their families here for birthdays and anniversaries. We hope that there will be gatherings like weddings, anniversaries, and class reunions. Organizations can hold fundraisers here. And we’re going to have open mic nights, a mystery novels club, and trivia,” John Garske told me. “We don’t plan to distribute our beer; we want people to come downtown, have a pint or two, and enjoy the environment we are working hard to create.”
It was in the middle of the afternoon in the middle of the week when I made my visit. Already a few people had begun to drift into the taproom. Two older men accompanied by a dog ordered beers and took a table near the window. When they sat down, Frank the Tank, the resident “brew dog,” ambled over, tail wagging to greet all three. “They’re regulars,” Garske told me. “Every Wednesday, they come in with their dog about this time for a pint.” Two grandparents and their grandchildren came in. Each of the adults enjoyed a pint, the kids a pop and some popcorn, which they shared with Frank when he came by. A couple of men, their workday over, enjoyed beers at the bar while talking with a few tourists from Nevada, who’d heard about the new brewery and had decided to come into the downtown to enjoy a flight.
There’s lots of room for everyone at the brewery and they are family friendly.
“We’re just getting to know our regulars and the kinds of visitors and what kinds of beer they like,” Andy Warren told me. “I’m still getting used to working on a bigger system than I did when I was a home brewer, and I’m tinkering with the recipes, getting the various styles just where I’d like them to be.” At the time there was a crossover blonde, an IPA, an amber ale, along with a couple of other familiar styles. And, there was something different—a gose, the tart, wheat beer whose lineage extends back centuries and to northern Germany. “It’s part of my educational program,” Warren said with a chuckle, “for our guests and for me. I’m pretty new at sours and I’m sure it will be something new for a lot of them. Making and drinking craft beer is an education for everyone.”
When I returned to Cold Iron in 2022, I skipped the tour of Hurley’s Silver Street and I didn’t get lost in downtown Ironwood. But I did have trouble finding a parking spot and ended up a block or so away next to the North Country Trail. I was here specifically to chat with Andy Warren about the brewery’s beers and had expected to find a quiet corner where we could sit. But there were no quiet corners. The taproom, which was filled to capacity, was the site of the party for dozens and dozens of volunteers who had worked at the annual SISU Ski-fest event held in January. It was an example of how successful Cold Iron’s outreach to the community had been and how much the community had embraced the brewery. There was the happy muffled roar of conversations and the occasional outburst of laughter. Several of the guests walked over to where we were sitting to say hello to the brewer. We decided we could better conduct the interview in a storeroom behind the bar.
A nice cold IPA brew on a hot summer day is the perfect prescription.
I asked Andy how things had changed since Cold Iron opened in 2017. “At first, we had lots of retirees; now people of all ages come in and there are more young people every year. At first our top seller was Honey Brown Cream Ale, but now it’s Drift North IPA. We’re getting lots of requests for Hazy IPAs, which are becoming more and more popular. And we get lots of questions, really good questions.” He still gets people asking what he has that’s like (name your brand) light and he has an answer: Porcupine Light. “It’s 4 percent and pretty bland,” he tells me, and then adds with a chuckle, “Just two-row [the base malt which provides the alcohol and water.] “He says that he mainly works making beers with subtle flavors, although “I can be bold if the style calls for it.” And he loves using German hops and malts.
In describing his “six pack,” Andy focused less on ingredients than on flavor. He described Michiconsin Honey Cream (ABV 5 percent) as not too bitter, although it does feature grapefruit notes from the Cascade hops. Corn and local honey create a smooth, rounded mouth-feel with some sweetness and the chewiness of the corn. Mosaic Blonde (ABV 5.2 percent), for those who want more than the basic Porcupine Light, takes its name from the hops which provide a medley of flavors from piney, to citrusy, to “bubble-gummy.” It’s clean, crisp, and light-bodied, with a gentle malt background.
Drift North IPA (ABV 6.9 percent) has some of the juicy tastes and hazy look of the so-called East Coast IPAs. Hops are definitely the focus, with earthy, citrus, and piney notes, while the CaraAroma malts add nutty, caramel flavors. It’s a well-balanced ale, with malts and hops complementing each other. Catherine the Great Porter (ABV 6.5 percent) is a thick full-bodied beer dominated by coffee and chocolate flavors. In one of the brewery’s videos, Andy stands outside on a winter day, taking a hearty swig of the ale. “It’s a good beer for a cold day,” he proclaims and, then, after draining his glass, announces, “It’s a meal in a glass.” Ayer Street Amber (ABV 6 percent) is another hearty, darker, flavorful beer. Special B malts provide caramel, burnt sugar, raisin, and biscuit flavors, while a good dose of hops contributes a flavorful balance.
And, of course, there’s a blueberry beer, Blue Collar Kolsch (ABV 5.6 percent). This one is different. All the other UP blueberry ales I’ve encountered used purees bought from supply houses. This one actually uses local, hand-picked berries that are squashed down, cooked, and then added to the beer during secondary fermentation. Pink in color, the subtle blueberry taste pairs well with the delicate malt and hop flavors of the kolsch.
As we finished our discussion, a burst of applause rose from the audience in the taproom. It was for an important award being given to one of the SISU volunteers. But I thought that if the assembled group had been tasting any of the beers Andy Warren had just described, it would have been equally loud and, certainly, just as appreciative.
Historical Pictures of Native Americans from the Lake Superior Region
This picture of a family building a canoe is labeled from Lac Du Flambeau.
An essential part of my Historical Pictures Collection is to acquire images of our regional Native Americans. It is not an easy task. Doing this requires forgetting about borders and looking at the area regionally more from a Great Lakes perspective. In researching the Upper Peninsula’s Native American past, it is important to realize that through the resultant acts of treaties, many of the original indigenous families and tribes were relocated. The Natives from the Keweenaw Peninsula were relocated at Baraga. The tribes from the western U.P. were sent to Wisconsin to places like the Bad River and Lac Du Flambeau. The Lac Du Flambeau Band of Lake Superior Chippewa says it all in the name.
This is an Ojibwa family from somewhere near Lake Superior. The picture doesn’t give an actual location.
The Ojibwa travelled Lake Superior & Lake Michigan without thought of Canada or U.S., whether it was Michigan, Wisconsin or Minnesota, it is all the same. Everything was tied together by the water and unbroken land.
This is an Ojibwa Chief named Kegadesa. The picture is mis-identified often.
Ojibwa villages dotted the shores of the Upper Great Lakes. Their canoes plied the waters and the campfires lit the night. It was a region of abundance where living off the land and water was possible.
The rare picture of the Native American village on Grand Island.
As I collect these images of native Americans, I try my best to identify the people and locations, but it is in many cases an impossible task. Their names were allowed to disappear into an unrecoverable past. The importance of their lives, culture, and religion, in most cases, was removed from the history books.
Native Americans fishing on the Canadian side of the St. Mary’s River. The Sault tribes were as one when they drew the border to Canada between them.
For more information on Lake Superior Native Americans:
Below is an entry from the book Yooper Ale Trails and the text is by Jon Stott. (Used with permission.) Read on or listen to the audiobook segment available from Audible.com or iTunes
Hereford and Hops, a historical landmark in the city of Escanaba.
One of the Escanaba area’s finest, Hereford and Hops is the first brewery to start brewing in the Upper Peninsula and the first to have “grill your own steak” capabilities. It is housed in an old building that used to be Escanaba’s busiest hotel with 80 rooms! This old building was known to have served bootleggers and gangsters during prohibition. There was even a speakeasy in the basement! Though it is currently closed, the speakeasy still exists in the basement of the old building. A flood in 2020 caused so much damage that they are still working to get it back to usable standards. Located not far from the waterfront, it would have been easy to smuggle booze in.
Originally the Delta Hotel, built in 1912, finished in 1914, it was intended to be the grandest hotel Escanaba could offer. At a cost of $100,000 (2.75 million today), it was constructed with that aim in mind. At the time though there more than 35 hotels and rooming houses already in town, it was felt that a truly grand place was needed, something with more than 30 rooms and a place that would redefine Escanaba’s sky line. It became exactly that. It was the tallest building in town at five stories. William McKinley, a Speaker of the Illinois Assembly at the time, attended the Grand Opening. It became the place to be for the wealthy and elite in Escanaba.
The Delta Hotel around 1917 after it first opened in Escanaba, Michigan. Notice the old cars around the building.
In 1930, the hotel changed hands to C.J. Burns. He established a bar and lounge in the basement called C.J.’s. This was right after prohibition was declared making this one of the few speakeasys, to survive to this day. (Though currently closed due to damages, they hope to get it up and running once again.) People came from all over the world to the hotel including cruise passengers, industrial moguls, and gangsters. Al Capone’s fingers stretched well into the U.P. and supplied some of C.J.’s booze. There is a tradition of alcohol here that goes back 100 years.
There is an interesting story that in the early days, Colonel Sanders sold his chicken recipe to the Delta. Before Sanders began KFC, as we know it today, he tried to sell his recipe for chicken to restaurants around the country. There was no thought to restaurant chains then, only selling his special recipe. At one time, and the document has disappeared, there was a copy of the agreement between Sanders and the hotel restaurant. It supposedly featured an early picture of Sanders on the contract and his signature giving them permission to use it. As the tale goes, the restaurant was the only one around to have that recipe at the time.
Now, with the brewpub, the tradition continues, but with a much quieter and relaxing atmosphere. H&H revels in its historic past, now on the register of National Historical Places. Historical pictures and artifacts adorn the walls. Though its focus is Beef and Beer, their menu is extensive. The Elk Burger is awesome. Going to Hereford and Hops is a step back into time when Escanaba was flourishing and grand style was in fashion. It is not just about great food and beer, it is also about the history within these walls that still speak if you listen hard enough.
Text below by Jon Stott.
The bar at Hereford and Hops in Escanaba surrounds itself with its and Escanaba’s history.
It was a ten-minute drive along M-35—past the end of the airport runway, the Escanaba golf course, the public and Catholic high schools to Ludington Avenue, Escanaba’s main street, and then east along Ludington—to the next stop on this ale trail: a building of double historical importance. Built in 1914 as a luxury hotel, the Delta Hotel is on the National Register of Historic Places and is home to Hereford & Hops Steakhouse and Brewpub, the Upper Peninsula’s first craft brewery. Since the late 1990s, I’d been enjoying lunch here during my annual day trips to the city known as the center of the UP’s “banana belt.” On one of my visits, I’d sampled my first Upper Peninsula version of Kolsch, a German-style beer that was relatively unknown across the United States at that time but has since become very popular among craft beer drinkers.
I first met the owner of Hereford & Hops, the late Don Moody, in 2017, when I arrived to do an interview with brewer Mike Sattem. Mike was brewing and while we were waiting, Don showed me around the brewpub, which occupies most of the first floor of the building (the upper floors house apartments). At the front was the seven-barrel brewhouse, visible behind the floor-to-ceiling plate glass panels that formed one of the walls beside an elegant, full-service bar. Next to the bar was a cozy pub area that had a pool table, oversized easy chairs and a sofa, a gas fireplace, and, above it, one of the establishment’s four TVs. A formal dining room, featuring tables set with white cloths and a fully-restored player grand piano, was behind the pub area, and, next to it, a large grill where patrons could cook their own steaks. Past the grill was a room nicknamed “The Other Grill,” a Mongolian grill where patrons filled bowls with ingredients that would be handed to a chef to be grilled.
Grill your own steak is one of the things Hereford and Hops is known for. The beef is locally raised.
Many years ago, Don, a native of Kankakee, Illinois, and his wife and young family spent summers in Rock, a small community north of Escanaba. “We had a small farm. I decided to raise Hereford cattle at the farm, and we moved to the UP permanently.” He and a neighbor purchased the Delta Hotel building and, when, in 1992, the Michigan Government changed its liquor laws to allow brewpubs, they decided to build one. He also took a crash course in brewing. In the months after the December 1994 opening, the idea of grilling your own steak and drinking beer brewed on premises became so popular that there were lineups of people waiting to get in: locals, day-trippers from as far away as Marquette and Green Bay, and, in the summer, tourists, including an increasing number of beer tourists.
The back dining room at H&H. The windows throw a blue cast in the room in the day. Beautiful area.
One of the people who had worked on the renovations of the Delta Hotel in the early 1990 was Mike Sattem, a recent high school graduate. “I never thought it would happen,” he said as he joined Don Mooney and me in the dining room. “Now here we are, twenty-five years later, two people who’d had no experience brewing, an owner and a head brewer.” After Hereford & Hops had opened, Mike began hanging around John Malchow, who’d taken over from Moody as the brewer, picking up as much information he could about the brewing process. He apprenticed in the brewery of a sister restaurant in Wausau, Wisconsin and was part of the brewing team that won three World Beer Cup and two Great American Beer Festival medals. When Malchow moved on, Mike returned to Escanaba and has been there since, making him, along with Derek “Chumley” Anderson of Vierling Restaurant and Marquette Harbor Brewery and Lark Ludlow of Tahquamenon Falls Brewery, the longest-serving brewers in the UP.
Brewing beer is a fine art. This is the brewing equipment room at H&H.
click on image for audiobook
When I met Mike Sattem again in 2022, the beer list included many of the styles I recognized from my earlier visits. There had been some changes, Mike noted. He now often brewed lesser-known styles, including the growingly popular sour beers, which he said he stored in a different part of the brewery’s basement to prevent any contamination. He also has lowered the alcohol percentage of most of the beers as patrons’ tastes evolved. “Most people enjoy something that complements their food, not something over the top.” But he also noted that as people’s familiarity with craft beers evolved, they were more accepting of hoppy beers.
“When we started out, we developed Whitetail as a gentle beer, but people thought it was too hoppy.” Whitetail Golden Ale (ABV 4.7 percent) is one of Hereford & Hops’ flagship beers. A gold medal winner at the World Beer Cup, it has a light-to-medium malt body and a crisp hop finish that has earthy, pine, and citrus notes. Another beer designed for novice drinkers of craft beer is the very low ABV Bluegrass Wheat Ale (ABV 3.1 percent), a blueberry-flavored ale that uses lemongrass instead of hops. This unusual ingredient provides ginger and lemon flavors that balance the fairly unassertive two-row barley and wheat malts and complement the hint of blueberries.
This is the main lounge/bar dining area. It even has a pool table.
Cleary Irish Red Ale (ABV 4.8 percent), winner of a Great American Beer Festival bronze medal, and Blackbird Oatmeal Stout (ABV 6.1 percent), winner of a World Beer Cup bronze, are two of Hereford & Hops darker brews. Cleary Red is a medium-bodied amber given a malty sweetness by the caramel malts and touch of candy apple-flavoring. The stout is a medium- to full-bodied version of the style given a silky, creamy texture by the oats, and roasted and coffee notes by the dark malts. Redemption IPA originally started at 5.5 percent ABV, but, Sattem told me, “I gradually ramped up the ABV to 7.5 percent as people’s palates developed. Medium-to full-bodied, it has an array of hops, including Simcoe, Cascade, and Amarillo, that contribute citrus, earthy, piney, spicy, and floral notes to complement the malty backbone. The Kolsch (no ABV available) is light-bodied, crisp, and clean-finishing. It follows the German recipe as closely as possible and is a refreshing, almost lager-like drink.
It’s not just a burger, It’s an Elk Burger with serious onion rings. Nothing mundane at Hereford and Hops. Great Food.
I’d visited the brewhouse on my previous trip, but asked Mike if we could tour it again. “I’ve just finished cleaning everything, including the windows. People are much more worried,” he added, “if all the equipment isn’t clean, the beer will be no good.” Between the mash tun and brew kettle hung a sign that I remembered from my earlier visit. “Blessed is the mother who gives birth to a brewer.” Mike laughed and told me that, although his mother is proud of him, she doesn’t drink any alcohol. I remarked that I was sure that many, many of the people who had enjoyed his beer had probably blessed her.
UPDATE: The Hereford and Hops changed hands in July of 2024. Though they plan to continue as always, it will be interesting to see how the place evolves with new owners.
CJ’s Lounge, the one-time Speakeasy, is closed because of flood damage. It could take years to repair.
For more information like this, please check out our book “Yooper Ale Trails” by Mikel B. Classen and Jon C. Stott.
Unknown homesteaders from near Sault Ste. Marie showing off their horses.
Two Homesteaders with Their Horses
Here are several historical pictures from the Sault Ste. Marie area, The first one is two homesteaders with their pair of prize horses. There are no names attached to this picture so we don’t know who this is. I do like the dog in front of the woman. Also, the front door seems to be covered with blankets or some kind of fabric. This is a great example of early homestead life.
Sault Ste. Marie Native Americans fishing in canoes in the St. Mary’s River.
Soo Native Americans Fishing St. Mary’s with Canoes
Taken from the Canadian side of the St. Mary’s River, these Soo native Americans are out fishing the Rapids. This was taken from an old stereoview. This was probably taken in the late 1800s. Though it is hard to tell, I think the Native on the left side is Jack Lapete, a well-known Lake Superior guide.
The train depot that used to be at the Soo Locks exchanging ship for rail passengers or vice-versa.
Sault Ste. Marie Train Depot at the Soo Locks
Back when trains were abundant, a railroad depot was located at the Soo Locks. This allowed passengers to embark and debark from train to ship in one location. The depot was located west of where the locks observation platform is now. From an old postcard image, with the car next to the ship, it shows three modes of transportation for the era, 1920s or 30s.
The ship Athabasca as it sails into the Soo Locks. Photo by Allan Fanjoy.
The Steamship Athabasca
Allan Fanjoy, a Sault Ste. Marie photographer captures the S.S. Athabasca as it heads down the St. Mary’s River. The Athabasca was built in Scotland in 1883 and then sent to America for passenger use on the Great Lakes. She sailed between Thunder Bay, Ontario on Lake Supeerior and Owen Sound on Lake Huron. It was one of three ships in a fleet that also included the Algoma and the Alberta.
A fisherman baits is line after pulling in a prize trout on the St. Mary’s River.
Trout Fishing on the St. Mary’s
Trout fishing has been a time honored tradition throughout the U.P. One of the reasons the Native Americans lived in the region was because of the abundance of fish. Even former governor Chase S. Osborn was known to enjoy pulling a big one out of the river. He even had a local guide come an get him if he had something special on the line and he would drop whatever he was doing and go pull in a big trout. The picture above shares a fishing tradition that continues to this day.
The cover of the book, Yooper Ale Trails for Craft breweries and brewpubs in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula.
The popularity of independent and craft breweries has been on the rise for several years now. They have been popping up across the Upper Peninsula almost faster than one can keep up with. From the populaton centers to some of the remotest places, nearly all roads lead to beer.
A couple of years ago, Jon Stott began a journey that would take him across the Upper Peninsula to document all of the brewpubs and breweries, tasting and documenting this rising and tasty industry. The result was a book concept called the Yooper Ale Trails.
The idea was to create trails to breweries and brewpubs that a beer lover could follow to hit each place within a specified area. Eventually all the brewpubs and breweries in the entire Peninsula would be not only documented, but thoroughly described as to brews and even menus from those that provide food. It became a book that is unique.
Now it is my turn to take up the mantle of the Yooper Ale Trails. I will be exploring new brewpubs and breweries to keep things up to date. I will be revising past entries as the need arises. Each month we will be doing a “Featured” brewery or brewpub on the blog. This new feature will whet readers appetites for adventures down the Yooper Ale Trails.
The legacy of U.P. brewers from the past continues with this new era of hand-crafted beers. The journeys of the Yooper Ale Trails invokes that historical past all the while ushering it in to a new day. Yooper Ale Trails is a must have for any craft beer loving fans.
This is from the Keweenaw with a caption the reads “I’m ‘Rale’ Cornish.”
I recently received a few new additions to my historical pictures collection. I thought it might be fun to share them with everyone. The first one is Pasty Boy up top. This delightful image comes from the copper country. He’s holding a pasty that is bigger than his head and a cane meant to represent a shepherd’s crook. Cornwall was a long way from the Keweenaw Peninsula, but the Cornish copper miners kept their heritage alive. The Cornish Pasty lives as a shared heritage between the Upper Peninsula and Cornwall, England.
The luxury passenger liner S.S. Tionesta enters the Portage Canal to receive cargo and passengers from Houghton and Hancock.
Next we have a nice picture of the luxury passenger steamship liner, the Tionesta. Part of a fleet of four, she could carry passengers and cargo. The ship was a frequent visitor to the Portage Canal which runs between Houghton and Hancock, Michigan and would pick up loads of copper and people. If you rode on the Tionesta, you were treated to the best life had to offer. She was launched in 1903 and plied the waves until 1937 sailing through the tumult of a world war, the roaring 20’s and prohibition. A link below goes to a video of historical images of the S.S. Tionesta.
The Hotel Scott was one of the premier places to stay in the City of Hancock.
Named after Archibald Scott, the Hotel Scott opened in 1906. The five story building was made of Lake Superior Sandstone and was one of Hancock’s outstanding places to stay. Currently it is on the National Register of Historical Places. Still standing today at 101 East Quincy Street, it houses apartments instead of the 100 rooms that was previously for guests.
Tons of copper ingots ready to be shipped are waiting on the Portage Canal Waterfront. The swing bridge can be seen in the background. The canal was a vital shipping lane for the Keweenaw copper.
The Collapse of the Portage Canal Swing Bridge, April 1905
The Portage Canal swing bridge which ran between Houghton and Hancock, Michigan was an amazing bit of engineering. Originally built in 1875, it was constructed of wood and featured a giant gear which swiveled the bridge to run parallel to the canal. It would then swing back into place after a ship had passed so the railroad could run through. The bridge was the only connection there was between the Keweenaw Peninsula and the rest of the Upper Peninsula that didn’t require a boat. Its importance can’t be understated.
In 1895 the bridge was rebuilt out of steel. The wood was replaced and the center swivel gear was now a massive piece of metal that was a marvel in itself. Hundreds of ships would pass through this waterway loaded with Keweenaw copper on its way to factories and smelters on the lower Great Lakes.
This picture shows the wreckage of the Houghton Hancock swing bridge. The giant center gear can be seen in this picture. The damage was catastrophic.
On April 15, 1905, a ship named the Northern Wave steamed up the Portage Canal. As they approached the bridge, watchmen signaled the ship. The Captain of the Northern Wave followed the signals (according to him) and collided with the swing bridge. He claimed the signals were wrong. The impact caused the bridge to come down in a mass of steel and wood. By a miracle, no one was killed, but two watchmen had to jump into the canal.
The Portage Canal was effectively blocked. Copper shipping had to be rerouted. The railroad could only reach the shore of the canal, so a large effort was made to cleanup the debris and rebuild the swing bridge. It was rebuilt in a year.
The rebuilt swing bridge was replaced by the lift bridge, the one we see today, in 1959.
One of the collapsed sections of the Portage Canal Swing Bridge showing the twisted metal.
Book reviews of my new book: Faces, Places & Days Gone By – A Pictorial History of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula
This is the cover for Mikel B Classen’s new book Faces Places and Days Gone By featuring vintage Harley Davidson.
From the Lansing State Journal and Detroit Free Press.
“Faces, Places and Days Gone By” ($19.95 paperback, $34.95 hardcover) written by Mikel B. Classen, managing editor of “The U.P. Reader,” is an oversized volume that’s full of great, highly detailed vintage images, accompanied by excellent descriptions.
Subtitled “A Pictorial History of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula,” it’s divided into nine sections, including homesteading, logging, mining, ships and shipping, Native Americans and recreation.
A View of the Huron River from Big Eric’s Bridge. The spelling of “Erick” is incorrect.The “k” belongs in his last name not his first.
Big Eric’s Bridge – Huron River – Baraga County
A Point North
By Mikel B. Classen
The Wild and Scenic Huron River in the Spring is an exceptional time to be there.
Over the weekend I traveled over to L’anse to sell and sign books at the American Legion hall. While I was in the neighborhood I decided to drive north towards Aura and Skanee. My ultimate objective was to reach a wondrous remote place known as Big Eric’s Bridge.
This is an area I rarely get into, but this region of north country leads into the west end of the Huron Mountains. Between here and Big Bay is Michigan’s wilderness at its best. The problem with it is much of it is owned the legendary Huron Mountain Club. But what isn’t owned by them is worth the effort to experience what you can.
This is one of the couple of small falls that make up the river near the Big Eric’s Bridge State Forest Campground
Big Eric’s Bridge crosses the wild Huron River which contains 37 species of fish. Fishing here is amazing with trout the primary fish in the river. This is an anglers paradise and a pristine river.
As I pull in and hear the water rushing in the river, I feel like a weight was lifted from my shoulders. Maybe Big Eric took some of the load. He seemed like that kind of guy. Yes, the bridge is named after a real person. There are some local stories but overall, not much is known about the guy.
The Huron River’s rugged and wild waters tumble over cascades along its winding path.
Big Eric Erickson
Big Eric Erickson was a large Swede from Skanee, his birthplace and date are unknown. He spoke with a thick Swedish accent that could sometimes be the butt of a joke. Erickson took it well. Logging for the Ford Motor Company, Big Eric earned the moniker of Paul Bunyan of Baraga County. Ford had a factory in Pequaming that manufactured parts for the fast growing automobile industry. Ford also had a sawmill in L’anse where Big Eric sold most of his wood.
Eric Erickson was over 6 feet tall and an even tempered individual. He was well liked and had an interesting way of looking at the world. In Richard Dorson’s, Bloodstoppers and Bearwalkers, he describes Erickson like this: “He’s happy when losing money and grumbling when making it, if you meet him in the woods where he’s boss, he’s dressed up in oxfords, dress pants and a silk shirt. In town he dresses like a lumberjack, very ragged.”
Big Eric’s logging camp around the 1920s. This would have been cold work. Photo courtesy Baraga County Historical Society.
Another tale surrounding Big Eric. He was checking out his cook’s food list. He came to loganberries. “Logging Berries – dat’s fine – order a carload of them.” He then came to New England Ham and crossed it out. “Isn’t American ham good enough for dese damn lumberjacks?”
He was known for helping people out when they needed it and was shrewd with his businesses. Eric was good to his workers often helping them when trouble reared its head. When Prohibition hit, Big Eric wasn’t affected much except for the behavior of his workmen.
The original Big Eric’s Bridge in 1930. The current one was built in 1992. Notice that the woman is using a fresh cut sapling for a fishing pole. Photo courtesy of the Baraga County Historical Society.
One day his men all left for a speakeasy or “blind pig” as they were called, and didn’t return. After a few days, Big Eric went to the illegal saloon and with true sorrow etched on his face, asked the bartender, “Can you let me have these men for a few days?” He got his workmen back.
Later in life, he mused about owning a hotel where the only guests would be lumberjacks. Big Eric moved to Houghton and that’s the last we hear from him. The bridge that bears his name is a reminder of his legacy in the region. A finer place was never picked that bears his name.
Big Eric’s Bridge State Forest Campground
Marsh Marigold (Caltha palustris) grow along the river bank. They are one of the first to bloom in the spring.
As I wander along the banks of the river taking photographs, one can’t help but feel the energy of the rushing water. It is spring and everything is coming to life. The leaves of the hardwoods are small and not fully grown. Above the river on a small ridge is a campground.
This area was logged at one time but it is difficult to tell. Many of the surrounding trees have grown to a spectacular height giving the feeling of old growth. Walking the road between the campsites is a walk among tall and thick hardwoods with a few pines thrown in.
One of the nice campsites at Big Eric’s Bridge State Forest campground.
There are 21 campsites here, all of them primitive. They have a table and fire ring at each site. Because of its remote location, all trash is carry out. If you bring it in, you bring it out. There are pit toilets and hand pumped water. If you are looking for camping with amenities, this is not your place.
Sitting at one of the picnic tables that overlook the Huron River, i realize how full of life the place was. Birds could be heard all around and the forest floor was just beginning its coverage. The first of the wildflowers were blooming and the Spring Beauties were just beginning to pop. I love spring in the U.P.
It’s still early in the year and I feel a chill as the sun creeps to day’s end. I hate to go, but it has been a clear day so the night should get cold. The drive back out is a bit regretful. I really wish that i had had more time to spend at that little campground next to Big Eric’s Bridge.
The Huron River is Michigan’s wild and scenic rivers at it’s best. Cold and untamed it’s flow has created a region of wilderness that is evident throughout Baraga County. The watershed encompasses 61,000 acres and is partly shared with Marquette County.
The river flows onward to Lake Superior and the Huron Bay.
It can be found off of US-41, exit at L’Anse. Turn right at the four-way stop in downtown L’anse and continue 20 miles on Skanee Road (paved). At the junction of Portice Road and Big Erick’s Road, go right on Big Erick’s Road. One mile (gravel) to the campground.
This young moose, still in velvet is foraging for food among the Cattails
It has been crazy spring here in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, as I write this there is a spring snowstorm pounding the western U.P. The weather, 70 degrees one day, 32 the next, has much of the wildlife on the move across the peninsula. Particularly the moose. There have been several sightings most of which are in Marquette and Baraga Counties.
Sightings near Republic have been reported with several seen along the highway. The one featured on this page was seen on 41 west of Michigamme. This area is not a surprise since that is where they were originally planted. In 1985 and ’87 Michigan planted moose north of Michigamme near the McCormick Wilderness Tract. I know because I was there. They were brought from Ontario with the help of the Safari Club International. 40 years later, we are currently seeing the results of this ambitious project. For more information about the original moose lifts I highly recommend the videos at the bottom.
One of the first moose released in the wilds of the Upper Peninsula in 1987.
Moose seem to have no fear and will cross a road at any given point and they were never taught to look both ways. There have been reports of moose car collisions. I can’t imagine having one of those monsters come flying into my windshield. They are quite tall and that is where they will land. This is a lot different than hitting a deer. A moose can easily weigh a thousand pounds.
When I encountered mine on April 29th, I was driving down U.S. 41 heading to Houghton when I saw cars pulled over along the side of the road on both sides. Thinking there might be wreck ahead I slowed down for safety. As I drove by, I saw the young bull moose in the pictures foraging in a small collection of cattails. He was doing his best to ignore the attention.
Deciding he was becoming too much of an attraction this moose decided to walk towards me.
Eventually he got fed up and began wandering up the road, right past me, at one point he was only 10 feet away. It was then he decided to go across the highway, walking. Fortunately he made it across without incident, but there were moments when he could have become road kill.
Moose like the tubers of cattails that grow under the water. They are quite a delicacy for them.
Though the moose have branched out across the Upper Peninsula, between Marquette and L’anse going north and south, is where the population is the heaviest. Some places in the U.P. are claiming to be the “moose capitol,” but where I’ve stated above, is where your best chances of seeing one is. Also where your best chances are of seeing one in the road and hitting it. There are estimated to be just under 500 moose in Marquette, Baraga and Iron Counties whereas there are only about 100 in Chippewa, Luce and Alger Counties. Beware, the moose are on the loose and they are truly a sight to behold.
Moose on the Loose!
For more information check out these links: I highly recommend the videos at the bottom.
Reverend Abel Bingham Lost in Pictured Rocks – 1842
Author’s Note: Every once in a while I come across a first person account of the early days of the Upper Peninsula that takes a bit of my breath away. Some of these accounts are so vivid, that I leave the story original and in their own words. That is the case with this account of a journey from Sault Sainte Marie to Grand Island by Rev. Abel Bingham. Bingham is quite articulate and to try to paraphrase this would be wrong.
Rev. Abel Bingham, one of the early settlers of Sault Ste. Marie, a Baptist minister sent on a mission to spread his religious message to the Native Americans and anyone else that would listen. His fervor for his mission will nearly get him killed within the wilderness of Pictured Rocks.
Background: Abel (Abilone) Bingham was a Baptist minister that lived in Sault Ste. Marie as one of its earliest settlers. He established a mission there and began a school for local Ojibwa natives. Bingham frequently traveled into the wilds of the U.P. preaching the bible to the different tribes. The Reverend helped create the first bible in the Ojibwa language. Abel and his wife, Hannah, were well known and well liked among the Sault community.
Abel Bingham arrived in the Sault in 1828 on a mission to convert and baptize the Ojibwa natives of Lake Superior. He was ordained as a Baptist minister. He had been a veteran of the war of 1812 and was shot in the head. Fortunately he lived and when the wound had healed he went back to the war.
He then spent time ministering to Native Americans in New York. Because of this experience, he was appointed by the Baptist Board of Foreign Missions as Missionary to the Ojibwa Indians of Lake Superior, then sent to Sault Ste. Marie. Bingham was instructed by the Board to “establish religious services and extend the benefits of the mission to all within reach of his influence.”
Bingham enthusiastically went to work as soon as he arrived. He set up a Christian school to educate the native children. He established a Baptist mission that held services for Native Americans and the European community. They would be separate sermons. For the first year, he left his family behind, but in 1829 he brought them to the Sault. On the first of April he set out on snowshoes through the woods to Mackinac so he could meet a ship. He returned in July with his wife and children.
Hannah Bingham, Rev. Abel Bingham’s wife. She kept the school and ministry running while Bingham was away on his missions.
His wife was reputed to be a good doctor and often attended to wounds and ailments that would crop up in the Ojibwa community. The couple had at least three daughters. They would all take over for the Reverand when he was away on his missions.
Bingham also began a campaign of intemperance and started a temperance society. This was aimed at both European and native people. The Sault it was noted, was full of vice and needed to find its way to righteousness.
Abel Bingham would frequently set out on expeditions at all times of the year in his efforts to bring the word of God to the Ojibwa. From the Sault to Marquette, Bingham would travel summer or winter to fulfill his directive. One year he did a 300 mile mission along the southern shore of Lake Superior. He was so determined that he worked with a man named John Tanner and Dr. James, a surgeon at Fort Brady, to create an Ojibwa version of the bible which Bingham would carry with him and distribute to the natives.
He knew many of the Ojibwa chiefs of the day including Shingwauk and Shingaba W’Osssin, Kawgayosh and Shegud son -in-law of Shingaba W’Ossin. Shegud would work with Bingham as a guide and interpreter replacing John Tanner.
A quick note here. John Tanner and Bingham would have a falling out that would devolve into Tanner losing his wife and child to Bingham who helped them get away from Tanner’s temper. Tanner, who was raised by an Ojibwa tribe, would later be accused of murdering the brother of Henry Schoolcraft, James Schoolcraft. He then disappeared without a trace.
In January of 1842, Bingham set out for Grand Island a trip of about 150 miles along the Lake Superior Shoreline. There was a small band of Ojibwa residing on the Island that he regularly preached to. There was a theory at the time that if the natives weren’t regularly taught religion, they would fall back to their old ways and they would have to be reindoctrinated. He had with him as a guide and interpreter, Henry Shegud, a companion and interpreter who accompanied Bingham on many of his trips. Bingham’s account of that journey follows:
“Spent two days with the Indians at Tahquamenon holding services as usual. Snow had fallen during our stay, making heavy travelling for the dogs, who could go but a short distance without stopping. Did not reach White Fish Point the first day; feared our provisions would give out and felt almost inclined to return. But next morning, after taking a portage across the Point which lessened the distance, we found the traveling better, took courage and pressed ahead. Third day, came to a beautiful bay, at the mouth of Grand Marie River, ninety miles from the Sault. Being rainy the ice was covered with water, through which we had to wade the whole distance across. Next morning, passed the Grand Sable or great sand banks, stretching along the shore some eight or nine miles, nearly perpendicular, and from fifty to one hundred and fifty feet in height. The curious stacks of ice that had been formed by the restless motion of the great Superior on one side and the huge banks on the other side, presented as grand and sublime a view as imagination could paint. The heavy surf from the broad lake rolled in with awful majesty and dashed with tremendous force against the massive rocks.
The rare picture of the Native American village on Grand Island. This was Abel Bingham’s objective when he left the Sault.
“After passing the Pictured Rocks, we ascended the ledge and camped in a small ravine. We were within twelve or fourteen miles of the island, but could pass no further on the ice or beach, the lake not being frozen at this point, so must take to the woods. The travelling was so rough and uneven we were obliged to leave our dog-train, oil-cloth, buffalo robe and oil-cloth overcoat, let the consequences be what they might, strapped our provisions on our backs and continued our march till we came upon a hunter’s camp, so recently deserted that the embers were still alive and found by our compass that we were lost. I felt much uneasiness and concern; took my Bible and read the 41st, 42d, and 43d Psalms, which were the first that presented themselves. The word both reproved and comforted me. Spent the Sabbath here and held divine service, preaching to an audience of one. Monday, retraced our steps, descended a ledge of rocks into a deep ravine and made two or three unsuccessful attempts to climb the opposite bank. If we could not find a pass up this precipice, we must return without visiting the island, which would be very unfortunate, as we were now limited to one meal a day. My interpreter cast off his pack and snowshoes, commenced climbing and in a few minutes, sang out, ‘Here is a place I think we can pass.’ This was a small protuberance somewhat resembling a man’s nose, with perpendicular rocks on both sides of great height. Here we descended the ledge by letting ourselves down from bush to bush and found ourselves on Lake Superior again, within three miles of the lodges. It was excessively cold, with a severe headwind, so that, with my ear-caps and handkerchief both tied over my ears, I froze one of them going that distance. At 2 o’clock, found ourselves comfortably seated in Wazawwadon’s lodge, who was expecting us Saturday. Mr. Williams, an American living on the island, received us with great kindness and fed up our dogs, which were nearly starved while going through the woods. He also furnished us with provisions and everything necessary for our return journey. While there, held meetings at the lodges and at Mr. William’s house. Arrived at home much fatiqued; was absent twenty-seven days; preached fourteen discourses, camped sixteen nights in the woods and was detained one day by severe weather.”
Bingham would call Sault Ste Marie home for many years. His mission would flourish but the grueling pace would take its toll. In 1853 he wrote “As the white population of our place has increased, the Indians have decreased; numbers by death, and others by withdrawing from the place and going to other parts. And when the number was considerably reduced at this place I commenced travelling among them to bear the gospel message to them; and for several years I travelled somewhat extensively, visiting them at their distant locations; in the winter on my snowshoes, and in the summer in my boat. As both these modes of traveling required much labor and caused much fatigue, the chills of 67 winters have so far enfeebled my system that for two years past I have traveled but little. Yet I remain at my station and keep up my school and my religious services both with the white population and Indians as in former years.”
In 1855, he would retire and close his missionary school. After attending the opening of the Soo Locks, he boarded a ship and sailed to Detroit and then traveled to Grand Rapids. The land on which his missionary school and his home stood was sold. The Chippewa County Courthouse now stands there.
William’s Landing, Grand Island. The Williams family began a trading post there near the small Native village that also occupied the Island.
For more information on this story follow these links:
My newest book, Faces, Places, & Days Gone By, is now available. The book contains over 100 historical pictures from my personal collection of Upper Peninsula images. The book is similar to what I’ve done over the years on this website with the historical pictures featured here. Each picture in the book features commentary and a look into Michigan’s past. Through the use of Stereoviews, cabinet cards, postcards and photo prints, there are photos from all corners the U.P. I will be carrying copies at my upcoming events including this weekend in Escanaba. This is one you won’t want to be without and it is suitable for all ages.
“With his book Faces, Places, and Days Gone By, historian Mikel B. Classen has achieved a work of monumental importance. Drawing from his collection of archival photographs, Classen takes readers on a journey in time that gives rare insight into a vanished world.” —Sue Harrison, international bestselling author of The Midwife’s Touch“
Mikel Classen’s Faces, Places, and Days Gone By provides a fascinating and nostalgic look at more than a century of Upper Michigan photography. From images of iron mines and logging to Sunday drives and palatial hotels, you are bound to be in awe of this chance to visit the past.” — Tyler R. Tichelaar, award-winning author of Kawbawgam: The Chief, The Legend, The Man
“Mikel Classen’s new book, Faces, Places, and Days Gone By, belongs in every library in Michigan. And when I say every library, I’m talking about every public, high school and college storehouse of knowledge.” — Michael Carrier, MA, New York University, author of the award-winning Jack Handler U.P. mystery series.
Across its history, the Upper Peninsula has had many famous and distinguished visitors to the region. Like today, the U.P. has always been an attraction to visitors and tourists. From Mackinac Island to Pictured Rocks. From Copper Country to the resorts of Delta County, visitors have come to view the wonders for nearly 200 years. Great steamships and passenger railroads once traveled to and across the peninsula. Before highways, these were the only ways to travel.
In 1889, Rudyard Kipling embarked on a trip from New York to San Francisco. He would have been about 30 years old and early in his writing career. He had a couple of very successful books under his belt, including Soldiers Three which contained the monumental tale of Gunga Din. The Jungle Book would be released the next year.
A leg of this journey brought Kipling through the U.P. on the Soo Line railroad. One of his early stops was at a budding logging town in Chippewa County. Though referred to as Pine River at the time, it had caused confusion because there was another place already in Michigan called Pine River. Instead, Soo Line General Manager named Fred Underwood, who was an avid Kipling fan, was travelling with him, suggested that the town be named after their illustrious passenger, so Pine River became Rudyard, the name it still bears today.
Proceeding east through Manistique and onwards past the Rapid River, Kipling stopped at another logging community. When he asked Underwood what the name of it was, he was told it didn’t have one yet. It would be dubbed Kipling. The credit to applying Kipling’s name to the two towns goes to Underwood who had the right to name stops on the line in his position as General Manager. Many past historians have claimed there is no evidence that Kipling ever came through the U.P. I disagree. When Kipling was informed by Underwood that the towns had been named after him he was quite flattered and requested pictures of both places. “I write to beg you to send me a photograph if possible, of either Rudyard or Kipling or preferentially both. I shall take a deep interest in their little welfares.”
Kipling dubbed them his “sons in Michigan.” He even included a poem which is reprinted below.
KIPLING’S MICHIGAN TWINS
“Wise is the child who knows his sire”
The ancient proverb ran
But wiser far the man who knows
How, where and when his offspring grows
For who the mischief would suppose
I’ve sons in Michigan?
Yet am I saved from midnight ills
That warp the soul of man
They do not make me walk the floor
Nor hammer on the doctor’s door
They deal in wheat and iron-ore
My sons in Michigan
Oh! Tourist in the Pullman car
(By Cook’s or Raymond’s plan)
Forgive a parent’s partial view
But may be you have children too
So let me introduce to you
My sons in Michigan
-Rudyard Kipling, poem reprinted from wikipedia
The poem itself mentions the view from the “Pullman Car.”
In 1922, after publishing a book of local history, the town of Rudyard sent Kipling a copy. He responded with a letter which seems to confirm his time in the Upper Peninsula. The letter sent to the town of Rudyard from Kipling in 1923 has Kipling recalling memories from his time spent in the U.P.!
““I have not been in Michigan since a trifle more than thirty years ago, and in those days big stretches of the State were hardly settled up, and the trade at the small stores in Schoolcraft County, if I recollect aright, was nearly all barter. There certainly did not seem to be any prospect of hay for export in those days and it is hard to realize that all the lumber round you must be cleared by now.” (15 January 1923: British Library).
Schoolcraft County is where most of his trip would have travelled between Rudyard and Kipling. This letter leaves little doubt he was in the U.P. 30 years previously. His description of the region is accurate and his mention specifically of Schoolcraft County leaves little doubt to his one-time presence. His name lives on with the namesake communities that still exist today, though Kipling (the town) is but a shadow of itself.
Arch Rock on Mackinac Island in 1893. It still looks pretty much the same to this day.
I recently came across a group of pictures from a trip to Mackinac Island in 1893. They were very nicely dated and location labeled. That is where it stopped. No one in these pictures are named unfortunately.
Taking the trip across the Straits in 1893.
Like we still do today, taking a boat across the Straits to get to Mackinac Island is a fun adventure. The women on this trip don’t look that happy. I wonder how many pins they needed to keep those hats on.
Finding some leisure time on one of the cottage porches.
A relaxing afternoon on the porch, these ladies are ready to enjoy the Island lifestyle. Dressed at the height of fashion, they seem ready for a Mackinac social event. Or maybe a walk around the Island. Possibly have a picnic.
Picnicking Victorian style.
No trip to Mackinac Island is complete without a picnic or two. Whether it is 1893 or now, it is or should be an important part of a visit. I love how the ladies in the picture are drinking out of china cups.
Arch Rock is an iconic limestone formation that has endured the weather as far back as memory goes.
Mackinac Island’s incredible beauty won it the distinction of being our second National Park and then Michigan’s first State Park. Arch Rock in 1893 looks much like the Arch Rock we see today. All across the island are beautiful rock formations that are the stuff of legends out of the mists of time.
Another porch shot of this group of ladies on Mackinac Island
After a day of exploring, it’s time to relax back at the cottage. Easing back with a fresh breeze across the Straits, is always an exhilarating way to end a day or visit to the Island of Mackinac.
For more information about Mackinac Island, check out these links:
The new cover for my book Faces, Places and Days Gone By, a Pictorial History of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula.
This new book, Faces, Places, & Days Gone By will be released in the next few weeks. If you are a fan of the historical pictures I post on this site, this book is for you. I have opened up my collection of Upper Peninsula historical pictures to share with my readers over 100 rare glimpses into the U.P.’s past. Here’s what is already being said about the book:
Enjoy a Visual Trip to See How People Lived and Worked in the U.P. in
Centuries Past!
Classen’s pictorial history is the next best thing to a time machine, as we get a front-row seat in the worlds of shipping and shipwrecks, iron and copper mining, timber cutting, hunting and fishing and the everyday lives of ordinary folks of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula across more than 100 years. Faces, Places, and Days Gone By peers into our past through the lenses of those that lived and explored it. See what they saw as time passed and how the U.P. evolved into the wonderous place we know today.
From the author’s unique collection, witness newly restored images from long lost stereoviews, cabinet cards, postcards and lithograph engravings. Join us on a visual journey to relive some of those moments, and discover a unique heritage through those faces and places. From the Soo to Ironwood, from Copper Harbor to Mackinaw Island–you’ll never see the U.P. in quite the same way!
With his book Faces, Places, and Days Gone By, historian Mikel B. Classen has achieved a work of monumental importance. Drawing from his collection of archival photographs, Classen takes readers on a journey in time that gives rare insight into a vanished world. — Sue Harrison, international bestselling author of The Midwife’s Touch.
Mikel Classen’s Faces, Places, and Days Gone By provides a fascinating and nostalgic look at more than a century of Upper Michigan photography. From images of iron mines and logging to Sunday drives and palatial hotels, you are bound to be in awe of this chance to visit the past. — Tyler R. Tichelaar, award-winning author of Kawbawgam: The Chief, The Legend, The Man
Mikel Classen’s new book, Faces, Places, and Days Gone By, belongs in every library in
Michigan. And when I say every library, I’m talking about every public, high school and college storehouse of knowledge. — Michael Carrier, MA, New York University, author of the award-winning Jack Handler U.P. mystery series
It is my hope that everyone will enjoy these images of days gone by as much as I do. This edition is volume 1 for what I hope to be a continuing series so that others might enjoy having this collection too.
The outside of the Ambassador, like Dr. Who’s TARDIS, quiet and unassuming on the outside, but step through the door and a different and unexpected world is revealed.
Houghton, Michigan in the Keweenaw Peninsula is easily one of the truly historical cities in Michigan if not the midwest. Just driving down the streets takes one back 130 years. If it wasn’t for the cars, there wouldn’t be much difference. Many of the buildings are over a century old and still stand, used for businesses to this day.
Inside, many of the old buildings, the interiors have been modernized, but one is a marvelous step back into time. The Ambassador Restaurant is worth going to, simply to see the inside. It is colorful and antique while providing wonderful views. It is a place where the old town still lingers.
When walking into the Ambassador the colored lights and murals give a sense of wonder when coming through the door.
Built in 1898, the brick building is one block east of the Houghton Lift Bridge. From the outside, it almost seems like just any other place, but when you open the door, you step into a showcase of stained glass, murals, and woodwork. The back wall is lined with windows that provide expansive views of the Portage Canal, the Houghton Lift Bridge, and the city of Hancock, topped by the Quincy Mine hoist protruding into the skyline.
The back wall of the Ambassador is mostly window. The Houghton Lift Bridge can be seen through the window and the Jail Guard panel of the 3rd mural can be seen.
Though stained glass decorates the Ambassador throughout, it is the murals that adorn the walls and ceiling that capture the attention. The murals were originally painted as large oils on canvas and were commissioned by Joseph Bosch owner of the Bosch Breweries which were located in Houghton and Lake Linden. They were painted by a Mr. Rohrbeck and hung in the Bosch Brewery for several years. Eventually they came down and were hung in a bar that was east of the Ambassador called the Giltedge Bar. Prohibition struck and the murals were taken down and stored away. The Ambassador was a known speakeasy during Prohibition called Hole in the Wall.
This is the first mural which appears above the bar. The gnomes are brewing their beer.
When prohibition was repealed, saloons reopened or at least brought cocktails out of the closet, and began remodeling and redecorating the bars around town where the murals were rediscovered. Their next home was the Ambassador where they are now. The date of this is unsure, but it is believed it was in the 40s during a remodel.
This is the second mural that is across from the bar. The party is rolling and the drinking is heavy. Below it some of the stained glass windows are visible.
If looked at in the proper order, they tell a story. The first depicts gnomes brewing beer. They are stirring it up in a large cauldron like a witches brew. The second mural has the gnomes drinking the beer and partying hardy. The third shows them the morning after, hungover and spent, wiped out by their night drinking. A guard is outside so their drunk has ended with the lot of them locked up. This last mural has three separate panels and covers most of the west wall in the dining room. The artwork is superb and it is done with an obvious sense of humor.
This is the third mural which adorns the dining room wall. It is actually three panels, but it is so big i could only fit the middle one into a picture. The jailer panel can be seen in another picture.
The Ambassador is a restaurant that has also won some accolades. Back in the 60’s they developed their own pizza recipe and has since won a place in Pizza Magazine’s Pizza Hall of Fame. Personally, I never knew there was such a thing. But hey, who am I to argue, the food is excellent and not overpriced.
The bar back wall, the Portage Canal can be seen through the windows as well as more of the stained glass above them.
Never been here? That needs to be fixed. Any trip to the Houghton area and Copper Country, should include a stop here. It is a taste of “old” U.P. that is so much more than just a meal. I stop here and have a beer just to look at the place. It never gets old.
There’s even a poem about the Ambassador:
COME FILL A BUMPER
On or about nineteen hundred and two, Mr. Rohrbeck was given a job to do.
With brushes in hand and gnomes in his head, he created the masterpiece on the wall above.
First home for the paintings was the old Giltedge Bar, east of here, but not too far.
Streets were of dirt, sidewalks of wood, hitching posts for horses, business was good.
Beer for a nickel, whiskey for a dime, sandwiches a quarter any old time.
Prohibition was next, and became the law, the Ambassador, a speakeasy, called “Hole in the Wall”
Paintings were rolled and stored away, for twelve long years in the dust they lay.
At last came nineteen thirty-three, the law was repealed and Bacchus was free.
Saloons and taverns opened their doors, folks danced, sang, and drank spirits once more.
The old bar was hauled out of its storage place, and the paintings were hung on the walls they now grace.
The artist, long gone, would be proud if he knew, that folks still enjoy them as much as they do.
Poem above taken from the Ambassador’s website. For more information about the Ambassador Restaurant, go to their website at https://theambassadorhoughton.com/
This mural is a small one near the door at the entrance to the restaurant.
An early motorcyclist cruises through Manistique. I love the early biker clothing and the bike looks like an Indian.
I don’t have many of these, unfortunately. It is a very rare thing when I come across early vintage pictures of motorcycles here in the Upper Peninsula. As a biker, I personally enjoy early pictures like these and consider them a treasure when I find them. I currently have two which are quite fun. I thought I’d post them so everyone can get a smile.
The top picture was taken in Manistique and I believe the motorcycle is an Indian. I can’t positively identify it, so if someone can confirm this, I would appreciate it. This was taken as a postcard which has no date.
In the second picture there is a young girl wishing she could go for a spin on a vintage Harley Davidson. The name on the tank is clearly visible. This is from an album of vintage photos from Ishpeming. This little gem is a favorite of mine. We have all had that look on our faces the moment we sat on a motorcycle.
An Ishpeming girl tries an early Harley on for size. Looks like a pretty good fit. I’ll always wonder if she ever got to take it out.
I thought these would be fun since summer is upon us and the time of year to enjoy our motorcycles is now. Ride safely and be careful out there.
