Lighthouse at Manistique, Upper Peninsula of Michigan.
Our Great Lake Michigan!!!
We were traveling to Eagle River, Wisconsin, where many of my family's roots began with my great-grandfather Joseph Weber moving his family, including my grandmother, to the area in 1917. My grandmother, Martha Weber (Judge), now 95 years old, has always returned to live there every summer and fall while spending the winters in Milwaukee. The original farm house and barn are still there, though she has lived for many years just down the road from it along the Wisconsin River in a small cabin my grandfather built. Through the words of my grandma as published by the Eagle River Historical Society:
"We arrived by train and were met by Norman Kinney, who unfortunately was bitten in the leg by our family dog. He drove us in his horse and buggy to our land located on a rutted, nameless dirt road which is today known as Illinois and Drager Roads. The house's exterior was red tin brick siding. The outside pump was out source of water and kerosene lanterns were our source of light. The kitchen wood stove and the potbelly stove in the living room heated the home. There was no heat upstairs and there were times in the winter when we would wake up in the morning with frost on our blankets. We would quickly run downstairs and dress in front of the wood stoves."
My great grandfather, having bought the land sight-unseen for farming, quickly found out the land was not fit for making a living off of. They were able to grow only enough for themselves, supported by subsistence fishing in the Eagle and Wisconsin Rivers. Eventually, Joseph Weber was forced to find work for his/our family by working in the Wisconsin/Minnesota lumber camps. As Lisa was to find out, the two traditions of fishing and lumberjacks were huge influences on northern Wisconsin, from the historically fascinating to the kitschy decorating of restaurants and pubs (i.e. paintings on saws and canoe paddles of moose, ducks, and especially fish). I had traveled to the San Juan Islands with Lisa and her family to experience her childhood retreat that was so impressionable on her, and now she was going to experience where my family and I were linked together, in Eagle River, Wisconsin. I was also planning on properly initiating her by the ol' welcome "push in the river" gesture.
Our Eagle River home.
View of the Wisconsin River from our tent on my grandma's property.
Our 1950's vintage low cruising sweet rides, previously owned by mom and uncle.
A painting of a lumber mill by a turn of the century mill worker - taken from the Eagle River Historical Society.
Family history aside, here's Lisa to tell you what we actually did during our week in the North Woods: We camped on a soft bed of pine needles on the far point of Martha's property, frequented by eagles with a fine view of the Wisconsin River that reflected a variety of moods on a daily basis. At night we dined on delicious walleye tackled out of the river by Mike's mom, a 28 inch long beauty, expertly and delicately cooked in a light batter that fed four people two nights in a row! The dessert was blueberry pie (actually three of them over a week!), with berries picked in Martha's backyard by Aunt Cathy and cooked by Mary Ellen. The conversation flowed over a particularly delicious Wisconsin brew, Fat Squirrel, made by the New Glarus brewery, and I enjoyed hearing about the history of the area from Martha and stories about when she was young. Kayaking was our sport of choice and we meandered down Rice Crick (covered in wild rice) and Mud Crick, tributaries of the Wisconsin River. We also traveled North to the U.P. to the Sylvania Wilderness to kayak the remote Helen Lake that was occupied only by a family of otters (I've never seen one in the wild!) that we were lucky enough to watch nab fish and eat them in front of us, barking at us and playing all the while. We also caught a glimpse of a HUGE beaver and a pair of lonely loons that watched us with their red eyes. SWEEEET TRIPPP!!! Ohh yeah - we also saw a flower that was on my 'bucket list' of flowers to see before I 'kick the bucket' = Indian Pipe, a plant that lives off a parasitic fungus that in-turn lives off the roots of oaks and pine. They turn black and wither away when you pick them, so best to leave them for others to wonder at...
Kayaking the Wisconsin River in front of my grandma's house.
Lisa, Paul and Babe in Sayner, Wisconsin, getting ready to spend a day of logging up in the U.P.
Evening on Rice Crick.
My destiny complete, I catch an 18 inch walleye and enter the final realm of manhood.
Lisa's trophy kill (he didn't really die).
An eastern painted turtle sunning on a bull-lily pad.
In the woods of my grandma's property.
Where the Indian Pipe roam, next to our cabin.
