Michigamme, the “Como” of Clover-Land

By Hon. George A. Newett of Ishpeming
FEBRUARY 1916

Lake Michigamme
You lie in moon-white splendor beneath the Northern sky. Your voices soft and tender die in whispering reeds, In crescent beaches, haunted bays and whispering reeds, Where mists of dawn and midnight drift past in spectral ships — To the Lakes by William Wilfred Campbell

Michigamme is the Lake Como of Clover-Land. It may not be listed in the hundreds of books published for tourists; it may not occupy a niche among the wonders of the world; it may not be the scene of incidents passed down by historians, and it is not the mecca of thousands of sightseers like its Italian sister, but it does have all the natural beauties of the southern. God placed Como among the hills and valleys of Italy. His divine and inimitable hand formed a lake which today is heralded — like in ancient times — as the most splendid of all lakes. But man desecrated His work. Man found the lake way back in the time of Hannibal or before. Man saw and appreciated it then just as he does now. His instincts were to glorify in the accomplishments of God.

Trouble Also Comes
’Twas only human for man to seek a home in the most pleasing environment and hence he built his home on the banks of Lake Como, the lake of all lakes. But with his coming came also trouble. Princes and princesses built their palaces on the shores of Como. They were attracted like modern potentates and millionaires to the splendid lodge outlook. In the rush and riot of tourist tide every year, one has seen this lake become completely polluted. He has read of the murders, the suicides, the battles, the sinful acts and the horror which those palaces and those bloody shores have seen.

Is Still Pure
But not so with Lake Michigamme! Our Michigamme, our lake of all lakes, most beautiful of many beautiful Clover-Land waters, has all the grandeur and the marvels of the original Como, but it has that purity, that cleanliness, that spotless aspect which is found only close to nature’s bosom amid virgin forest or along a little pebbled shore. Michigamme today rests in its home beneath the northern sky in a manner which seems far more deserving of those wonderful words of Longfellow than Como to which that great poet dedicated them:

No sound of wheels or hoof-beat breaks the silence of the unbroken Sabbath day.
As in the streets of some old city
I while the idle hours away.
I sit within a room, and ponder
The world and all its ways;
I wonder if beyond the ages
There is a haven of sweet rest
And perfect beauty anywhere?
Sweet answers seem to come to me
As if in some far-off land
Into itself the sun had taken
All the beauty of the lake.

Unmarred by cities, untouched by the meaner acts of man, this irregular expanse of sparkling water is set like a giant crystal in the center of a framing of green. Dotted here and there by numerous islands, Michigamme rests peacefully between a coloring of green in the summer, while in the winter she is snow-robed and rests like a “bride,” as says one: awaken the earth so that it seems to epitomize all lake loveliness, and to exemplify the luxuriant splendor of untrammeled nature.

Wilderness Still There
“The breath of the wilderness is still there,” as Van Dyke says in his “Nature for Its Own Sake.” Though man has been there and is there, the wind that blows over it is pure, and those timbered heights above the water seem more closely drawn to the heart and the dreams and as the keen winds catch the frozen breath of the sea when the earth and the firmament had been rent asunder, seemed to soar, far over the west at sunset, lighting the green-garmented woods, the hills and shores in a golden sheen unknown to those who do not care — have no knowledge of the primitive world; but only pleasure for its own splendor and in its leisure.

That, then, is Lake Michigamme. It lies in Marquette county only a little west of the village of Michigamme and the city of Ishpeming.

Indians Name Lake
The Indians called it the “Shining Waters” as the missionaries did. It was the home of the Chippewa tribe, for this stronghold of the noble red men was in the very heart of the mission of L’Anse, about twenty-five miles to the west. There once was the playground of Americans; the scarcity of the white man’s cottages is rare indeed; there is that opportunity for seclusion and comfort that is ideal for the summer; the fish; the game; the pure water; for it is as much a spring-fed lake as ever there were one. Its waters are ideal places for sportsmen and recreation.

And yet with all its primitive features it has more attraction for the city man than the sea. Far from his studio or storehouse, from insistent worry, from his workshop where hammer abounds he can become again an eager, careless child of nature by only a night’s ride in a modern Pullman.

Close to Big Cities
A Chicago man, for instance, can board a Chicago and North-Western or Chicago, Milwaukee and St. Paul train at 6:30 o’clock in the evening and arrive at Lake Michigamme for breakfast the next morning. The Duluth, South Shore and Atlantic railway main lines, between Duluth and the Soo, pass along the very shore of the lake.

Here and there parts of the lake can be seen from the railroad, and one can gather up the basic beauties of the thirty-two islands which dot the water. But to view the beauties to the core, it is not sufficient to see them without an actual visit to its inviting shores.

Must Go Back
One must go back to the days of the aboriginal. He must live on the green shores of this lake; he must stand beneath the canopy of the mighty trees; he must trample on the soft grass beneath; he must gaze out over the shimmering water; he must converse with the lake as its ripples whisper cheerful words to him against the shore; he must make his way through the smiling forests or he must place himself on one of the many rugged hills which surround the lake, in order to gather into his soul the beauty, the healthful stimulus which Michigamme offers him.

Far from the smoke of the cities and 2,200 feet above the level of the seas and yet within a night’s travel from Chicago, Milwaukee, Minneapolis, Duluth and other famous cities — such awaits mankind. Its water is as pure as water can be. In its center is the well-known Isle of Pines, two miles in diameter and wide open to the tourist. The bays are of all sorts and shapes and sizes. Everywhere are islands, some almost unknown to man. Fish still swim about free from the temptations of a steel hook.

Beauty is everywhere.
The shoreline is unsurpassed for it is bedecked with a varied foliage which gives forth a greenish glow that can only rest and please. Wild strawberries are here, there and everywhere. When in season the wanderer need not look for this delicious berry. Then, too, there are the red raspberries, the blueberries, the blackberries and other edibles, delicious and plentiful.

But the berry is not all the food offered. There are the fish of the waters and the game of the shores. They will satisfy the hunger of man and will increase his love for Michigamme by offering splendid sport.

When one has explored all of the lake — if such a thing were possible — he can enter his boat, travel to the west and cross the peacefully running Spurr river. As he courses in and out with the oars and the stream he will move on and out and out over a river and country. If he goes far enough he will become the equal of small-scale Hiawathas.

He may return to Michigamme and seek new scenes. The Peshekee river is hard to move away, but it has other sons and waters. It is larger and more rapid than the Spurr and yet it is but a mile trip to enter it. There the fun and the adventure begins in earnest. It affords the canoeist an opportunity to show his skill, for there are rapids over which a whirling, twisting current snaps and swirls along. But it’s all in fun, for Peshekee offers no hidden danger.

Then comes the Michigamme river made up of other small streams. It goes onward but as it goes so does some name until finally the stream becomes the Menominee river as it wends its way eventually to Lake Michigan and then on to the Atlantic ocean.

But this river is not peaceful like the others. It offers pitfalls galore to the traveler. It has falls and riotous waters. It winds its way through into the forest. But it too was beat out into sorrow. Did its trails of opportunity cease? It has something else to offer. It is the fish stream of Northern Wisconsin and Northern Michigan. There are trout galore in time for twenty-five miles. Some are almost impassable as they twine and intertwine to the very shores of Lake Superior.

Woodland, also, bedecks the southern shores. These forests, secretive lakes, some rarely visited by white men. Farther on are the copper mines. These fortunes of Mother Earth offer a monetary wealth which cannot be estimated. The mines are fifty miles away or only a short ride from the lake.

Now travel eastward and you come to iron mines. Here are some of the oldest and the richest, most developed ore depositions in the Northwest. Ishpeming, or Heaven as the Indian called it, awaits the tourists, twenty-five miles from the lake. It has its scenes peculiar only to the mining city.

Ishpeming, the largest city in the county, has a population of about 12,448 (1910 census). It is located on the Duluth, South Shore and Atlantic, Chicago and North-Western, and the Lake Superior and Ishpeming Railroads, 15 miles southwest of Marquette, and three miles west of Negaunee.

Village Lies Near
But nearer and on the western shore of Lake Michigamme lies the little village of Michigamme. Though the village and the dozen or so cottages are the only settlements on Lake Michigamme, their location makes them the very thing desired by those who wish quiet and peaceful rest. And when compared with other lake resorts in Michigan, it has everything that a modern village could ever have. And thus it offers that man wants and craves for. If he is unwilling to hunt, fish and row the food which Nature has offered him in such a bountiful quantity and in such an unequaled quality, it is near the lake itself.

It Is for Everybody
Here, in the presence of the Northern sky is the lake that is dearest of all to Nature. It offers the camper, the boater, the picker, everybody. It is an American resort, a blessed garden of an isle which cannot be surpassed. It glows forth with a dress of its own and in its arms offers a true lover of sport a glorious field. It gives the mind and the soul the rest which modern methods forget.

Yes, this wonderful spot satisfies every longing of the heart’s desire. He can lie on the shore and bask in the warmest sunshine. He can view the country, this Michigamme, so pure, sweet and lovely, and then match that grandeur of his sight with the vision of his “Happy Hunting Grounds.” He will leave it there awaiting the coming of man so that it can send him back to his work refreshed, invigorated, saturated with a physical, mental and spiritual bliss — that comfort and happiness which only Nature in her most gentle moment can give.

This — all this and more — is Lake Michigamme.