Gotta pay the piper

We headed back to Escanaba on Monday, Sept. 28.  Now it was time to pay the piper as Biker Bill, the hunter, would be putting me to work.  I saw what I thought were a couple of dogs frolicking in a field, but it was two deer, playing and running.  What a sight to see, and I didn’t get a photo as I was too busy enjoying watching them.

It was a beautiful day to be a tourist.

Our last lighthouse on the tour was the Au Sable Lighthouse.  Originally called the Big Sable Light Station, the name was changed in May 1910 to conform to its geographic location on Lake Superior.  The name means “with sand,” and was named for the nearby Grand Sable Dunes.

This is the path we were walking, a nice walk in a pretty setting.

To get to the station we had to walk 1.7 miles one-way.  That worked for me as I’d not been doing the walking I’ve been used to doing.  The path to the lighthouse was a good one, well-packed and easy for walking.  We did stop along the way to take a few photos and to do our usual looky-loo. 

In the early days, maybe even as early as 1622, mariners recognized that Au Sable Point was a hazard to the booming Lake Superior boat traffic.  The reef of Jacobsville sandstone sometimes lay only a few feet beneath the surface and to add to the danger, there was often a thick fog laying on the water.  In fact, a number of ships were blown onto the shore near Au Sable Point and the Pictured Rocks area.  Some were carrying iron ore while others carried various cargoes including coal, fish, lumber and passengers.

The white sand and waves is beautiful, but who knew how treacherous they could be when Mother Nature got riled.

Congress took action in 1872 appropriating $40,000 to build a lighthouse.  The State of Michigan sold 326 acres of land to be used for the station to the federal government for $407, and on Aug. 19, 1874, the light began operating.

The light tower is 86 feet high, and at the tower base, the walls are more than four feet thick.  The light originally burned lard oil but was later changed to burn kerosene.  When a Fresnel lens was installed, the white light was visible 17 miles out on the lake.

As we came out of the trees on the path, this was our first glimpse of the Au Sable Lighthouse.

This is looking at it from the other side.

The original home for the head keeper was designed as a single dwelling, but was converted to a double dwelling once an assistant keeper was assigned to the post. 

Supplies for the station usually came by boat and landed at a small pier at the base of the foghorn building.  However, in the winter, sometimes snowshoes, sleds and dog teams were used to get supplies from Grand Marais, 12 miles to the east. 

This appeared to be the dock where they unloaded the supplies.

While the station was transferred to the National Park Service in 1968, the Coast Guard continues to maintain the beacon and a solar panel.  Volunteers have been reconstructing and renovating the site since 1988, painting, clearing vegetation and rehabilitating the stairs to the beach and the sidewalks.

A lone goose was looking out to sea ... for his mate? 

 

A solitary leaf lay on the path, its changing colors showing up like a ruby in the dirt.

There were numerous little paths and walkways down to the water and sand.

From the lighthouse we kept heading back toward Escanaba, and on the way I was put to work appropriating apples as deer bait.  We actually made quite a haul as we stopped at a few out-of-the-way trees.

Yeah, we ran through the brambles and we ran through the bushes, gathering apples as we went. 

Our final stop was to go through a piece of the Seney National Wildlife Refuge.  I so wish this day had been a beautiful one, but by the time we reached the 7-mile stretch of road around the water it was raining so hard the road was in the process of turning to mud.  The big draw here?  What else?  Swans.  There were so many pairs, and I tried to get photos, but it really wasn’t to be.  The day was dark, the rain was pouring down and I was heartsick.  I’ll have to come back here another time and you know that with the swans here, it will happen.  I was just happy to see them.  We’ve seen a lot of swans on this trip, so I’ve been very pleased.

A dark, dismal, rainy day.  But the swans don't seem to mind.

 

Practicing for a take-off?

They get so filthy when they're down in the weeds in the water feeding.

It’s been quite a tour of Upper Michigan.  It became the 26th state in 1837, Lansing was chosen as the capital in 1847, 1867 Red Jacket was settled and the name was changed to Calumet in 1929.  Whoo.  That’s a lot of history in a few days.