Day 22: Welcome to Copper Country

I left Marquette behind me, hoping that today would be one filled with celebration. It was the 4th and America was turning the big 236. The day wound up being even more than I had imagined. As I approached the port city of L'Anse, the last city before the Keweenaw Peninsula peaks out to Michigan's most northern points, I stopped to pay my respects to the Snowshoe Priest, a statute of Bishop Baraga or as locals told me later today, Spider Jesus.

I arrived to Houghton at noon. This town is best known for being a metropolis a century ago and now for being home of Michigan Tech. Signs all over this part of the state say, "Welcome to Copper Country," a reflection of the regions mineral rich past. I didn't have anything planned for the day besides meeting up with a friend from law school, who was reared in the city.

As we left Andy's house, we drove out to his camp - what locals call their summer homes. We drove 20 miles outside of the Houghton-Hancock region and up the Peninsula. After seeing the view of his summer home, we traveled to Gay, Michigan, and their beloved Fourth of July parade. This included contest of "who can blow the biggest bubble"; "who can through raw fish the farthest" and "stopping in to look inside the Gay Bar."

We proceeded north and east as we wrapped around the shores of Lake Superior past Eagle Harbor and eventually 10 miles from the tip. Here we jumped off the cliffs into the frigid-feeling waters. I thought there's nothing like a handful of men-turning back time to when they were boys, a freighter at the horizon, and wild raspberries and blueberries to nimble on. Splash! "How is it?" someone asked. I just stuck my thumb up from sea and proceeded back for the 20 foot climb to the top.

My head was singing Ray Lamontagne's Old Before Your Time. 'Now the wren has gone to roost, the sky is turnin' gold. Like the sky my soul is also turnin'. Turning from the past, at last, and all I left behind. Could it be that I am finally learnin?'

We drove back down the Peninsula's western coast to Eagle River, where we were treated to sunset, Barbeque, and music at Fitzgeralds, known to the locals at Fitzs. Despite the rain, we were able to see fireworks at midnight as we rung in another Fourth of July celebration.

Day 21: Tallest Man in Our State

I woke up and went for a jog along Marquette's seemingly never-ending trails. The town seems to belong out west, yet it is a treasure right here on our state's shores of Superior. It also reminds me of Burlington, Vermont, giving homage to free-thinkers homing for that sweet scent called fresh air.

We then packed up Brett's tent and drove to Mt. Arvon, the tallest point in Michigan. It is less than 2000 ft, but it still signifies being at the highest point during that one day in time. As we drove up US 41, you could see small Waldens from the highway as their log cabins made perfected matches. They say it starts getting hilly after Marquette and it didn't dissapoint as Brett drove up to the state's highest peak. "You know Marc, your the tallest man in our state right now," he said as we reached the peak. 'Huh. I guess for this small moment in time, I am,' I replied back with probably the biggest grin I'd had since when we'd hike as kids in our neighborhood sea-level park.

And as we drifted from the highest point Liz put in Dylan, a perfect fit for a cloudless day.'How does it feel? To be on your own, with no direction known.' I soon took a short 15 minute nap as we descended downhill and feeling that studying would be in high gear come the 5th.

This evening Brett and Liz left, having to get closer to home. But we did stop for some dinner at a beer at the international food fest. It wasn't much of International, despite a few people asking me about my Hungarian shirt. Brett had a Burrito; Liz had the BBQ; and I had the gumbo.'So far all food is American,' I told Brett as we drank down a lime-arita Bud Light on an unusually warm 85 degree evening.

As I said goodbye, I decided I missed biking and eventually went back to the campsite to get my growler and study book. It was well worth it as I arrived to the shores of Lake Superior about an hour later. My ipad, my book, my beer and my freshwater. (Wait...our freshwater.) This is studying, I thought. I browsed to find a spot and saw a young family. The father carrying out his daughter to the lake as she held on to her daddy's hand as tight she could, trusting him as she went into these frigid temperatures for the first time.

Day 20: Every Man Deserves a Castle

I left Grand Marais knowing that this was the halfway point of this adventure I've come to love with each breath. Three weeks ago seems like ages ago. It seems but a dream of another past. As I drove to Picture Rocks National Lakeshore I was once again reminded that I'm on borrowed time, something I'm come accustomed to thinking about as my travels take me to previously uncharted posts. How lucky can one truly be at 27. Pretty lucky I guess.

The car was amplified with some professor from Texas explaining to me how secured transactions and perfecting those goods were part of our everyday life. I pulled into the walkway to miner's castle and thought 'every man deserves a castle even if he can just live in it for one day.' This bastion gives homage to the pasts as we look out into Lake Superior and hope for a better future. You can't help but dream how our brothers have been dreaming the same fantasy from this place since well before Michigan was a traveler's paradise. I also was met with a flood of other tourists as sat down in the shade to study some more.

After listening to some more review, I met my cousin Brett and his friend Liz in Marquette. Habitual meeting was in due course as we stopped into a neighborhood pub before heading to the camp site to post tent. Marquette is the largest city I've been to since leaving campus nearly a month ago. It is home of Northern Michigan University, a few brew pubs, and was the historic seen to Anatomy of a Murder.

Just nine months apartment, Brett and I have been around each other's lives since the start. And while our paths have moved into different directions, certain arenas have brought us back. This time its our love for the great outdoors. As we both reach our late 20s we're falling in love with our state each day, realizing their more to be had in this corners of the world than ever imagined.

Day 19: Where Are You Going?

It was Sunday, but it was back to work. This two day stretch of negotiable instruments and then secured transactions seemed like the worse yet. At least, I was in Grand Marais and not that god-awful cubicle in the library. Honestly, the best thing about this place may not be its beauty, but talking with family members who I knew little about. Its amazing how we can learn about our past simply by talking. To think they did this kind of thing more often before computers, televisions and that Ford Motel T was invented.

The morning session went as well as it could, looking out at the bay, where they building a rock wall to prevent the sand from filling in. This small harbor town has been a refuge for boaters since the turn of the last century and the resilient residents that make up the community of 400 hope to keep it that way for years to come. I then went for a five mile job around the bay. This area has provided motivation since its inception and those who are proud to call it their home talk about the rich history that it boasts. This includes discussing Jim Harrison's presence.

As the afternoon sun came in, Fred and I, along with another friend, went for a hike about 6 miles east of their summer home. I studied property and Criminal Law in the back of the jeep, something I've become accustomed to doing as I get from one destination or the next. Its been great how so many people have been supportive of this trek - some envious, some a bit flabbergasted, but most simply supportive. "July 1st. A new record," Fred said as we tasted the blueberries beginning to be in perfect bloom. They tasted as rich as my paternal grandfather's name. (His name happens to be Rich.

The night concluded with a dinner at the Lake Superior Brewing Company. I'm kind of getting it now why The Great Lake State is becoming the Great Beer State. "You mind if we see a sunset?" I asked as we turned out of the restaurant to head back home. The view didn't disappoint. Two nights earlier I was in Whitefish Point. Two nights from now I will be in Marquette. I kept thinking of that line from 'Catch Me if You Can' when Christopher Walken asked Leonardo Dicaprio's character "Where are you going Frank? Where you going tonight Frank?" Where will I be in the future, where am I going? I just hope it involves many more of these sunsets.

Day 18: Where Timber, Fishing Were Once King

It was time to leave Brimley and drive over Grand Marais, my next stop on this stretch of sleeping in beds. It was time to relisten to creditor rights, as dry of a topic as any, but something else to do as I drove 62 in a 55 and was getting passed by people driving 70. (Wow. they sure do drive fast up here in the middle of nowhere.)

During my drives over the past 24 hours, I've been to Michigan's blueberry, cranberry and moose capital. Its seems every enclave has something their predecessors left to them to be proud of. You probably have that in every state. The only difference is we - us Michiganders - are fortune enough to have the four seasons. As my uncle who now lives in New Jersey once said, 'by scent of the air you know when its fall. You know when its winter. You know when its spring and you know when it is summer.'

I arrived to Grand Marais was was whisked away by family, my mom's first cousin, Fred, and his wife, Elaine, of 40 plus years, to see the abundance of beauty that surrounds this small port town where timber fishing were once king. We first hiked up the large Grand Sable Dunes. Perched atop these sandy clouds, I knew these next few days would be as enjoyable as the rest, spending time with family and taking it all in over some long conversations.

We hiked over to a majestic waterfall before checking out and old log slide. If this isn't history, then I don't know what is. Here, I was bitching about having do some studying on negotiable instruments tomorrow and then I see a 300 foot drop that man made to assure lumber could get from these rich forests into our homes. The views were breathtaking though and just as I thought this couldn't get any more peaceful we hopped into their Jeep and drove about 10 miles east to the most secluded place I'd ever been. A region that I couldn't get to even if I tried. And then we arrived to Barfield Lakes and I felt like I was disturbing this pristine region. Nature had its way since the beginning of time and it wasn't my job to mess with that.

We made it back to camp, but as I went to bed that night after an amazing dinner. I kept thinking. I need to assure that each week of my life, I find a place where I can be at peace as much as I was this afternoon. If I don't then this entire trip, this entire study marathon, and the past few years of school might all be worth nothing.