This is Chapel Rock, located on Chapel Beach, in the Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore, along the southern shore of Lake Superior, in Michigan's beautiful Upper Peninsula. The inspiration for North Shore Woman, a pen name I have used off and on throughout my writing career (I use that term career in conjunction with writing loosely!). I first discovered Chapel Beach in the late Summer or early Fall of 1971, when I was living in a reclaimed log cabin on the Petral Grade, a dirt road that runs north of the Seney Stretch portion of M-28, just east of Shingleton (recently renamed by a street sign as Star Siding Road). The old log cabin, a former logging camp kitchen and bunk house with parque flooring, was situated in the back of the second clearing on the west side of the road after you crossed Star Creek (approximately 4 miles north of M-28), nearly invisible to the dirt road as it winds its way northward to Melstrand. Just past the Melstrand store was another winding dirt road that went further north toward the south shore of Lake Superior. Nearly impassable by most vehicles, I shifted into four-wheel drive, and drove the two-toned green Willy's Jeep down the rutted road, as it got narrower and more challenging to navigate. I was sure the Lake Superior shoreline was near, and kept edging on that late September day, at a slow but steady pace through the thick hardwood forest. Around a curve I came to a large posted sign, emblazed (but faded) with the words 'Private Property' across the top. The bottom third of that sign declared Chaple Beach, followed by these words: "Take nothing but pictures, leave nothing but footprints," in fading script. I could see that the trees were thinning beyond, and hints of the blue waters of Lake Superior beckoned me forward. When I realized if I went any further, that only I would be coming back and not my vehicle; I began walking instead of driving. I stopped the vehicle, climbed out and continued down the worsening road to a trail that led to Chapel Beach. As I stepped from the thinning forest onto the edges of a sandy clift, the view took my breath away. Not particularly a long or wide beach, the 'end' of the sandstone cliffs of Pictured Rocks framed the beach to the west, and to the east of the small, footprint-less white sands was Chapel Rock. Proudly holding its own, surrounded by shallow waters and lapping gentle waves, with its tree roots attaching like heavy ropes: its only hold onto the mainland rocky cliffs of copper colored sandstone. I thought I had found paradise that day. I spent the better part of the afternoon exploring the footprint-less white sand beach, gathering sun bleached driftwood, swimming in the clear, clean and crispy cold waters of Lake Superior, reveling in my treasure that I had found. That day is as clear in my mind as if it just happened yesterday - all of it rushing back from wherever it has been held when Austin posted this picture a few days ago. I wanted to record the memory, and share it with you.
01 October 2009
My Personal Mecca
This is Chapel Rock, located on Chapel Beach, in the Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore, along the southern shore of Lake Superior, in Michigan's beautiful Upper Peninsula. The inspiration for North Shore Woman, a pen name I have used off and on throughout my writing career (I use that term career in conjunction with writing loosely!). I first discovered Chapel Beach in the late Summer or early Fall of 1971, when I was living in a reclaimed log cabin on the Petral Grade, a dirt road that runs north of the Seney Stretch portion of M-28, just east of Shingleton (recently renamed by a street sign as Star Siding Road). The old log cabin, a former logging camp kitchen and bunk house with parque flooring, was situated in the back of the second clearing on the west side of the road after you crossed Star Creek (approximately 4 miles north of M-28), nearly invisible to the dirt road as it winds its way northward to Melstrand. Just past the Melstrand store was another winding dirt road that went further north toward the south shore of Lake Superior. Nearly impassable by most vehicles, I shifted into four-wheel drive, and drove the two-toned green Willy's Jeep down the rutted road, as it got narrower and more challenging to navigate. I was sure the Lake Superior shoreline was near, and kept edging on that late September day, at a slow but steady pace through the thick hardwood forest. Around a curve I came to a large posted sign, emblazed (but faded) with the words 'Private Property' across the top. The bottom third of that sign declared Chaple Beach, followed by these words: "Take nothing but pictures, leave nothing but footprints," in fading script. I could see that the trees were thinning beyond, and hints of the blue waters of Lake Superior beckoned me forward. When I realized if I went any further, that only I would be coming back and not my vehicle; I began walking instead of driving. I stopped the vehicle, climbed out and continued down the worsening road to a trail that led to Chapel Beach. As I stepped from the thinning forest onto the edges of a sandy clift, the view took my breath away. Not particularly a long or wide beach, the 'end' of the sandstone cliffs of Pictured Rocks framed the beach to the west, and to the east of the small, footprint-less white sands was Chapel Rock. Proudly holding its own, surrounded by shallow waters and lapping gentle waves, with its tree roots attaching like heavy ropes: its only hold onto the mainland rocky cliffs of copper colored sandstone. I thought I had found paradise that day. I spent the better part of the afternoon exploring the footprint-less white sand beach, gathering sun bleached driftwood, swimming in the clear, clean and crispy cold waters of Lake Superior, reveling in my treasure that I had found. That day is as clear in my mind as if it just happened yesterday - all of it rushing back from wherever it has been held when Austin posted this picture a few days ago. I wanted to record the memory, and share it with you.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
and I am glad you did.
ReplyDeleteTwo summers back when I was working for LMAS, I allowed myself to be convinced to take the "short cut" from Grand Marais back to Munising...because "they've paved a whole big stretch now." I wasn't sure where I was going and headed south back out of town and saw a sign directing me west so I turned. Before long the road was dirt and narrowing and then I was confronted with what appeared to be a fork in the road. What I didn't realize at the time was that I was now driving on a snow mobile trail that got narrower and sandier as I traveled along. There was no longer any room to turn around and at times I had to accelerate to ensure I didn't get stuck in the sand. Well over an hour later I popped out of the woods almost due north of where I had entered, just west of Grand Marais and did finally take the "short cut" back to Munising - stretching the hour trip into about 2 1/2!
ReplyDelete