We had about five hours.
We arrived at around 11:30 this morning--10:30 here. We had spent the night in Houghton, and I took a ton of pretty cool looking pictures of the bridge. I'll post some later, when I am more awake. I went to the gravesite of my great-great grandparents. It was interesting--after looking at graves all the time in the harbor, and wondering about the names, to see your own name. I don't think I've ever seen a gravestone with my own family name on it. Odd. Lucky.
We were there for five hours. That morning in Houghton, about thirty miles south of the harbor, it was gray and rainy, almost stormy, but not quite. When we arrived in the Harbor, the sun was peaking out between the clouds. This is very common, as certain pockets in the clouds can hover over one spot for ages. I had walked down to the half-way point between the harbor and the marina, and I was sitting on the beach in a spagetti-strap dress, having taken off my sweater, because it was warm.
Ten minutes later, there was a torrential downpour. I watched this cloud come in, and it was blue-gray, that over-cast color that might be rain, and might not be rain. I was interested, because the waves were pushing north-west--that's away from the shore, which, needless to say, is not their usual course. It was windy, and the wind was moving in the opposite direction from the clouds.
We waited out the rain, and then went into the church for Fred's memorial service. The church was packed full. I've never seen it like that. They had extra chairs in the isles, and a couple rows up front. Jen will appreciate that, as she is the only one who's seen the church--but, I can promise you, it is never packed full.
While we were in the church, the sun came out. I was getting eager to go and see the lake again, for maybe thirty minutes before we had to leave. (This was a 2pm service--the drive is seven-eight hours.) As the service was concluding, we hear thunder. They do the dismissal, and everyone turns around to go--but it's raining torrentially again. This time, it's practically white-out conditions. You can't see anything, and the whole church is wracking from the wind. Nobody leaves the church.
Fifteen minutes later, the sky is clear blue. I went out to the rocks, and they were already dry. I took pictures of the storm as it made it's way towards Copper Harbor. It got about halfway, and then hovered there until we left. In Houghton, it was still gray and cloudy.
So I'll run you through this again--in the span of five hours, it was first gray and cool, then sunny and hot, then cold and raining, then sunny and warm, then thunderstorming horrifically, then clear-skyies with a blue lake. And I didn't even go over the colors that the lake turned. When we arrived, it was green. Under the clouds it was slate gray. When we left, it was blue, and the waves had completely changed directions. There were whitecaps in Sand Bay when we left. Five hours before, it had been glass calm.
It's almost a foot lower than usual, too. Hasn't been this low since 1921. They had to close the dock at the marina so they could renevate it for the low lake level. Cat Harbor is almost completely gone--and by that, I mean that there's less harbor, and more rocks where there used to be water.
When my dad was a kid, he went swimming in that harbor. Eliza Creek doesn't even come up to the drainage pipes they put under the highway. That big pond that is carved out from sand--completely gone. It was the strangest thing I'd seen in a while. They said it was low, but I didn't think it was *this* low. It's a pretty drastic change.
We were there for five hours. That morning in Houghton, about thirty miles south of the harbor, it was gray and rainy, almost stormy, but not quite. When we arrived in the Harbor, the sun was peaking out between the clouds. This is very common, as certain pockets in the clouds can hover over one spot for ages. I had walked down to the half-way point between the harbor and the marina, and I was sitting on the beach in a spagetti-strap dress, having taken off my sweater, because it was warm.
Ten minutes later, there was a torrential downpour. I watched this cloud come in, and it was blue-gray, that over-cast color that might be rain, and might not be rain. I was interested, because the waves were pushing north-west--that's away from the shore, which, needless to say, is not their usual course. It was windy, and the wind was moving in the opposite direction from the clouds.
We waited out the rain, and then went into the church for Fred's memorial service. The church was packed full. I've never seen it like that. They had extra chairs in the isles, and a couple rows up front. Jen will appreciate that, as she is the only one who's seen the church--but, I can promise you, it is never packed full.
While we were in the church, the sun came out. I was getting eager to go and see the lake again, for maybe thirty minutes before we had to leave. (This was a 2pm service--the drive is seven-eight hours.) As the service was concluding, we hear thunder. They do the dismissal, and everyone turns around to go--but it's raining torrentially again. This time, it's practically white-out conditions. You can't see anything, and the whole church is wracking from the wind. Nobody leaves the church.
Fifteen minutes later, the sky is clear blue. I went out to the rocks, and they were already dry. I took pictures of the storm as it made it's way towards Copper Harbor. It got about halfway, and then hovered there until we left. In Houghton, it was still gray and cloudy.
So I'll run you through this again--in the span of five hours, it was first gray and cool, then sunny and hot, then cold and raining, then sunny and warm, then thunderstorming horrifically, then clear-skyies with a blue lake. And I didn't even go over the colors that the lake turned. When we arrived, it was green. Under the clouds it was slate gray. When we left, it was blue, and the waves had completely changed directions. There were whitecaps in Sand Bay when we left. Five hours before, it had been glass calm.
It's almost a foot lower than usual, too. Hasn't been this low since 1921. They had to close the dock at the marina so they could renevate it for the low lake level. Cat Harbor is almost completely gone--and by that, I mean that there's less harbor, and more rocks where there used to be water.
When my dad was a kid, he went swimming in that harbor. Eliza Creek doesn't even come up to the drainage pipes they put under the highway. That big pond that is carved out from sand--completely gone. It was the strangest thing I'd seen in a while. They said it was low, but I didn't think it was *this* low. It's a pretty drastic change.