“A Cliff Hanger.”
It started in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. When we think about wild places, we think of Yellowstone, Glacier, the Everglades. The U.P. is underestimated. Big mistake.
The place is nearly all wilderness. Bears, wolf packs, moose. Eagles, Pileated Woodpeckers, porcupines. And quiet. The quiet you get when there are few roads. At night you see stars; all of them.
I went birding in the U.P.’s million-acre Ottawa National Forest. Got a trail map, put on bug spray, and headed out carrying only binoculars. No compass. The trail was marked by blue diamond-shaped symbols on trees. That should be enough, right?
Deer flies didn’t matter at first. But after a while the bug gunk stopped working. Bites bled. I’d read about Stanley’s march through the Congo. I didn’t care about bugs. Nobody gets malaria in the North Woods.
I went on, assuming the word “trail” meant a foot path. Yeah, the stupidity of the unprepared.
After a half-hour, the trail faded into undergrowth. Still, because of the shady canopy, undergrowth was walkable. And every so often there were blue diamonds on trees.
The diamonds were far enough apart so that when you reached one, you could just make out the next. After an hour, maybe two, it got difficult. I was past the point of no return. And wanted to return.
But when attempting to backtrack, the diamonds were impossible to find. You could get lost. I had no jacket, no water, no cell phone. Cell phone? Never carry one. Doubt if there was service anyway. So I didn’t go back; I kept going forward.
Couldn’t be much further until the trail ended at a road. An hour later, maybe two, I’m sweating and bug bit. Haven’t seen birds, animals, or the end of the trail.
This lack of wildlife is typical. Real nature is quiet. If you were in a 50-acre preserve outside Chicago you might see thirty species of birds, plus deer and fox. But in a million acres of wild you might see nothing.
There are bears, wolves and every kind of boreal bird. Probably wolverines and cougars. But I didn’t see them. Maybe they saw me. If they did, they saw a guy who was getting tired.
An hour further, maybe two, and I figure I’m near the road. I can sense an opening up there. And, yeah, there’s light through the trees. It’s the road for sure.
I pick up the pace. Gotta get out of the woods, out of these deer flies. I wanted to smell car exhaust. I wanted a roadhouse diner and a roadhouse dinner. A beer. Many beers.
I went through the trees, running the last few steps. And came out into the open. But I wasn’t on a road. I was on the side of a mountain. High up, on a narrow ledge.
To be continued…
Next time: The Birth of “Two Fisted” (Part Two)
Man, I bought the whole seat but it turns out I’ll only need THE EDGE.
For those of you old enough to remember, this would be like Saturday afternoon at the movies. A cliff-hanger, possibly starring Buster Crabbe or Lash LaRue…….to be continued. I’ll get the popcorn.