Winter Solstice Trip

An afternoon of car camping

Some may think that the shortest day of the year, winter solstice, might not be the best day for a camping outdoor adventure, but I hope this story convinces them otherwise.

My school has an especially long winter break. We finish finals before Thanksgiving, and don't go back until after New Year's. It is strange, because is that a long enough time to get a job? In past years I have, but this was my final winter break before graduation, and I had things to do. I've been working on several school-related projects and thinking about what I want to do after I graduate, and that all is pretty stressful. I have also set aside a lot of time to work on art, mindfulness, and more generally just cultivating my wonder for life.

A trend that has become (frighteningly) more regular is that it is taking longer and longer for there to be constant snow cover. When I was a child, we used to cross-country ski every year for Christmas. It is becoming frequent for there to be a brown, or almost-brown Christmas. Of course, this is part of a long-term trend we call climate change, and it is horrifying, but I have been trying hard to find joy where I can. I am sad at the consequences of there being less snow, but in an area where the winter drags on for far too many months (in my opinion), which has an impact on the mental health of the community, I was glad that it was warm enough for me to camp out of my car and drive down unplowed roads without fear of getting stuck.

There were several reasons I wanted to visit the Western Upper Peninsula of Michigan (UP), in the Ontonagon area. First of all, in the summer of 2021 I worked there at the Porcupine Mountains Wilderness State Park (Porkies) and it was the best summer of my life. I grew so much as a person and met an amazing group of people my age that I still keep in touch with. The area is so beautiful and wild, it feels like my second home. At that time, most of my adventures were within the state park, but I looked forward to exploring the nearby Ottawa National Forest.

But there is another reason that I will keep brief. Through a dating app I met someone who lived out there who I shared a lot of interest with, and after getting to know each other a bit I was excited to meet them in real life. They were going to show me a hike, and we were going to go from there. I made a nice "gourmet" dinner of toadstool focaccia, tomato-butternut squash soup, and some drinks if we got along. I joked with this person that I was going to "wine and dine" them, backcountry style. I planned on sleeping out of my car because the temperature wasn't going to drop much below freezing. I've dealt with worse.

"Toadstool" focaccia with cherry tomatoes, onion, garlic, feta cheese, and rosemary as toppings

So, I drove westward full of excitement. I was revisiting an area and group of people that I loved, and I was meeting someone new who I saw potential in. I arrived in the parking lot for Norwich Bluff in the Ottawa National Forest, the afternoon before the solstice. No cars had driven on this lot since it had snowed, and there were large wolf prints in the area. I love wolves, and it reminded me of how wild this place was, so I found it delightful. Soon after, my date showed up. We went on our hike and I sensed mutual respect. We ended up eating dinner together and they stayed later in to the evening.

Wolf tracks in the parking lot

Even though everything seemed like it was going according to the best-case scenario, things got complicated. I spent much of my trip plagued by hurt and confusion. I know this is a part of growing up and meeting new people, but that doesn't negate the emotions I was experiencing. I learned that even if things go according to plan, you don't always get the results you want. I look forward to the clarity and wisdom I will find with time.

That night I had trouble sleeping. Between thinking about the previous evening and the cold, I had plenty to keep me up. But I also made very few obligations on this trip. so if my body wanted to stay up, I didn't stress about it. Things will work themselves out.

The next morning I woke up slowly, looking forward to the adventures ahead but also lost in thought. For breakfast I had some elderberry jam that was made and collected by a friend I met in the Porkies three summers ago. It seemed only fitting that I enjoy this gift in the place where we met and deepened our love for outdoor adventure.

Car camping breakfast on winter solstice

I then set out for a solo hike on the Gogebic Ridge trail. There were no human footprints before mine which told me I was the only one who had been out there. It was the shortest day of the year and I got a late start. When I started on this trail, I didn't have a length goal, but I did not want to stop, either. The rolling hills are so unique to this area - much of the Midwest is so flat, but hiking in the western UP means constantly changing elevation and sore legs. On my hike I saw so many animal tracks, and even though the threat of cougar attacks is low, the signs of large predators I saw on the trail scared me a little. Even with my fears of freezing to death, hiking in to the night, and getting attacked by an animal, I trudged on.

It is so peaceful and eerie to move through a space so remote by yourself. Eventually I felt myself purifying in to a form that knew how to make it in a space like this. She was logical and enduring. She was hyper-aware of her surroundings and didn't fret about soreness or fatigue. She, in healthy doses, keeps me humble and reminds me of my role in nature. She is a relief when so much of my life is pre-occupied with stresses that include deadlines, meetings, and applications. It isn't the most comfortable state to be in, but it feels like a fresh breath of reality.

Overlook on the Gogebic Ridge Trail

I hiked past the Gogebic Ridge trail on to the North Country Trail, which extends from Vermont to North Dakota. Over the past years I have become fascinated with this trail and hope to section-hike the entire UP section soon. The blue dots are captivating and I follow them like my guiding light.

As I neared close to half-way, the sun was low enough in the sky that the backs of the hills were in shadow. I hiked up the hills in the sunshine, getting hot and sweaty, then would walk down the back end in the darkness, all of the sudden chilled my the extra moisture. That isn't the best feeling when you are only half-way through your hike and it is only getting darker, but my water, food, and extra dry layers kept me safe and secure. My hike back was quicker, more direct. I ended up walking ten miles. This distance is usually reasonable for me, but I was walking through slippery snow and constantly changing elevation. After my hikes or runs I always take a moment to appreciate how far my legs have taken me, and that really is a miracle.

Afterwards, I contemplated what to do next. I found out that for the first time in forever, all of my Ontonagon friends were back in town, and their band was reuniting at the Eagles bar; many of my favorite memories from my time working at the Porkies were spending time in that bar and listening to my friends play. It was such a treat that I would get to hear them again. To pass time before they played, I read, journaled, ate some of my leftover gourmet dinner, and walked the Union Bay beach in the dark. Three summers ago, I spent countless nights walking that beach at sunset after work, and it feels so special to go back to a place my past self valued so highly.

Gourmet dinner in an NCT parking lot

Then, I finally got to listen to my friends play at the Eagles. It was so similar to when they played there in the past. There were the same people and the same songs - my old boss was even there! I guess that's what you expect in a small town. But I was tired from the hike, and still weighed down by the previous night. After my friends were done playing, one of them came over to me and noticed how tired I was. He told me I was welcome to stay with his family, and I took up his offer. In that moment, when I was tired and in emotional turmoil, I was hit with a wave of gratitude, to be in a place where I am looked after by these friends I barely get to see. It felt good to sleep in a bed that night, in a house that is not my own yet I am looked after so well.

The next day I spent exploring with the friend who let me stay at his house. We hiked Bergland Hill, which has a fire tower on top, then went to a place called Old Victoria, which is the ruins of an old mining town. The UP has so many of these historic sites scattered around since the introduction of European miners in the 1850s. I have grown more and more interested in the history of the UP as it is still so relevant. My family moved to the UP within our lifetimes, but many of my friends growing up have Anishinaabe and/or European mining immigrant ancestry, and they are a direct result of that history. It is fascinating to walk through the forest or abandoned villages and mining sites, knowing that people have occupied these areas in different historical contexts for ages, and we are adding the newest layer to the story as we spend time there.

Decaying leaves, frozen in time

After our hikes, we were cold and tired, so we relaxed in my friend's traditional Finnish sauna that his family built. I was debating car camping that night, but what I really needed was to get home, eat some good food, and sleep in my warm bed.

I listened to sad songs on my way home, allowing the sad emotions to sink in so I can more fully appreciate my trip. I'm glad that I practice mindfulness, because even though I was experiencing uncomfortable emotions, I was still able to appreciate the simple joys of my trip and be aware of my courage for being able to do the things I do. All I want is to live life completely, and that means embracing every feeling, even if it is unpleasant. Life is hard, and will continue to be, but it is also an adventure. I am confident that my tale will be epic.