Northern Michigan is not for the faint of heart.
When leaving for Up North on Wednesday, the temperature both in Detroit and there was 40 degrees. My snow crocus bulbs were peeking up as were the greens of the daffodils.
Up North,it quickly became cold. Highs in the 20's, lows in the single digits. The people in town are rough around the edges. Long beards, flannel shirts, strong boots and the women don't look much different. Our citified appearance; non- rugged boots,makeup, designer glasses,long hair on the boys, we stood out as being "Flat Landers" from down state.
The mini thaw left the 8 inches of snow with an icy crust that allowed, in spots, my dog and I to stand on top of it without sinking into the snow.
I took a few pictures and quickly realized that I was not properly equipped for a snow adventure. I had my double breasted wool coat and fleece gloves. I still wear the moon boots similar to the ones in Napoleon Dynamite. They are tacky,but they're warm.
Going Up North is so different from when I was a kid.
We would leave early in the morning in the back of a pickup truck outfitted with a cap. The only heat came from the front sliding window . We had speakers from the front that played oldies which we sang to. We sat on the floor and had pillows to cushion our butts. Sometimes we would stop at the Bay City McDonalds and get Grandpa's Bay City Mud aka coffee. We would eat our Happy Meals and play hand clapping games like Miss Lucy. If we had to go to the bathroom, there were no Rest Areas. We found a good spot with trees to squat behind with the roll of tissue. Legs spread wide as not to pee on your own feet.
Often we would stop at Pinconning and get smoked fish, cheese and crackers. We interacted with the adults of 2 generations. My Grandma would tell tales of cooking on the truck engine in Alaska during a hunting trip. We would hear stories of dancing in Detroit, at The Grande Ballroom, in the 30's with rowdy farm boys and drinking out of flasks. Our parents would relate stories of where they were during J.F.K.'s assassination or the Detroit Riots.
Soon, we'd arrive in Mio,on Popps Road, at The Little One, our Grandparent's rustic cabin with no indoor plumbing, or running water. We had a pump for water. In the summer we bathed in the Au Sable river, which you did quickly as not to freeze off parts you might want to use again. In the Winter, you took a PTA bath with an old fashioned wash bowl, hot water heated on the stove and rough hewn washcloth.
( The acronym uses slang for female part for letters one and two)
(Figure it out)
We heated it with an oil stove that was treacherous and cantankerous. There were 2 bedrooms. One with a double bed, for the Grandparents, one with bunk beds and a trundle for wee ones. There was a 50's style wrap around couch that could sleep two adults as well as a floor that with Hudson Bay wool blankets as a cushion, slept 2 more.
We ate hobo dinners which were beef patties, sliced onion and potatoes, salt and pepper,wrapped in foil and cooked on the fire. We ate our food on vintage 30's Fiestaware and cooked on iron skillets.You ate a lot of eggs and bacon.You ate a lot of fish and game too. Grandma made homemade sardines and pickled eggs with beets.
Grandma knitted bootie slippers for everyone that had little balls on the top. Even the men wore them, although they got manly colors like dark blue and green.
We had handmade quilts of jean material, that rendered a child immobile. When you were tucked in, there you'd stay.
There was an outhouse called Big John, that had calendars with pinup girls from the 40's and 50's, hence my love for that art form.The stench was horrible in the summer, and you froze your butt in the winter. At night you used the chamber pot for #1 only.
We brushed our teeth outside,walked a half mile to the Au Sable to swim, made rugs from braided bread bags,caught fireflies, found and consumed wintergreen leaves and berries, morel mushrooms, blueberries,and the new shoots of ferns, called Fiddleheads, were gathered and sauteed in butter. They tasted of asparagus. We'd take hikes, gather rocks, watch bugs in the summer and snowmobile in the winter. There was no TV and radios barely worked. No phone either.
Now my kids avoid conversation and oldies with MP3 players, bring their portable TV's with Gamecube and X Box and play Halo and Tony Hawk's Underground. They chat with friends on their cell phones and surf the web on the computer. They watch satellite TV.
In the winter, they barely go outside except to take pictures for photography,and go to the beach across the street in the summer rarely because they don't like the locals, who view my clean, non tatooed, non smoking, non drugging, sex free teenagers as freaks.
Yes, I am "old". I long for a rustic cabin in the boonies (except for a laptop, so I can write.) I am citified, but I can remember not being such a wuss.
My kids will never know the beauty of silence, gathering food from nature and entertaining themselves. Damned city......
