Our Stories

Wild in the North Country – Part Five

By Michele Oberholtzer

On Being Lost

Day 32, Mile 483

I think I’m in an abusive relationship with the trail. When I lose it, I curse it, swear I don’t need it and I’m better off without it. And then, invariably, as soon as I see a blue blaze I am flooded with relief and take back every bad thought I ever had. This same scene has played out over and over.

What a fantastically terrible day so far, and it’s only 2:00. A day of walking blindly, turning around, finding my route, and losing it again. My “trail” this morning was actually someone’s 2-mile long driveway. So I backtracked to where I was last night, and found the trail. Yesterday I was lost, found the trail, and actually took a picture of the blue blaze out of sheer appreciation. But apparently I went the wrong direction because today I’m back at the same blaze headed the other way.

I have no map. My mail, which had my map, didn’t ever arrive in Marquette so I finally decided to head out without it. I remember hearing once that a blind person could make it through a maze if they just keep one hand on the wall and followed that wall forever. If I can just follow the blazes, I could get to the other end. But the trail isn’t marked the whole way and so I end up alternately following my gut and my eyes, worse off than that blind person because I keep changing my approach.

I know that there are a lot of unmarked areas of the trail in this area so, when I don’t see blazes, it’s hard to know if I’m in “the part of the trail that has no blazes” versus “the part of the world that has no blazes.” It’s a meaningful difference!

In the light of the day, I am retracing places I hiked yesterday and noticing that some of the blue blazes have actually been intentionally blacked-out so they are almost impossible to see. I’ve heard that this land west of Marquette was historically owned by auto magnates like Henry Ford. The untamed private property of massive back-to-back parcels leaves little room for such trivialities as roads (a little ironic for the founder of the modern automobile) and the people here have a reputation for keeping to themselves. Is that why someone concealed the blazes- because they want to discourage hikers from coming here? If that’s the case, they are very misguided because I’ve spent a lot more time here walking in lost circles than if I had been able to follow the trail.

I’m entertaining thoughts of short-cuts and hitch-hikes but I am very alone out here. The sound of a river sometimes tricks me into thinking I’m near a major road even though I know I’m not. In a few days I’ll be leaving the North Country Trail to travel up the Keweenaw Peninsula and Isle Royale. I wonder when I will see my last blue blaze, I wonder if I’ll know it when it happens.

Being back on a marked portion of the trail this afternoon was cold comfort. The trail was utterly un-groomed and even when it stopped raining, the wild overgrowth smacked my legs constantly and made me soaking wet. It was extremely frustrating. The long wet grasses were like a thicket of sticky Velcro that tripped me at every step. It was like they were intentionally trying to keep me from moving forward. Finally, I fell. As I flew through the air I made a pitiful groaning sound that seemed to echo in the air forever. I was so demoralized, so exhausted, so down, I half-kneeled on my hands and knees for a few moments, waiting for the torrent of tears that I have been waiting for to finally come. But they never came. After a moment, feeling like a fool, I got up. What else could I do? Just keep walking.

Michele Oberholtzer backpacked alone across Northern Michigan from Leelenau to Keweenaw, traveling on foot for over 700 miles. Most of her hike took place on the North Country Trail, which has over 1000 miles in Michigan. Stay tuned from now until New Years Day as we share her story. Michele documented her trip in her “Left of East” journal series. Check out that series and more of her writing at www.oberdoit.com.