The snow appeared on cue, just as Wisconsin faded into the Upper Peninsula
of Michigan. One minute there was a dusting, and the next a whole layer, white
and inviting.
It seemed too perfect, as if there must be snowguns hidden behind the
“Welcome to Michigan” sign. But there was snow beyond that, too, right up to
the doors of the three ski resorts that line U.S. Highway 2 just inside the
state line.
That’s why they call this Big Snow Country. Winds from the west whip across
Lake Superior, picking up warmth and moisture, and dump it as snow — more
than 17 feet annually, on average — when they hit the cold inland air of the
U.P.
Consider it the Midwest’s snow reservoir. We did, when we made reservations
for the week before Christmas, which is iffy in much of the Midwest. And the
U.P. came through, not only with the snow, but with great skiing too.
The first ski hill, Big Powderhorn Mountain, is just 5 miles inside
Michigan; it has 25 runs in a nice variety that attracts families. Blackjack
has 20 runs, including mogul fields that attract experts and a 100-foot-long,
10-foot-high half-pipe chute that attracts snowboarders. It’s known as the
locals’ favorite. Indianhead has 22 runs and lots of good runs for
intermediates.
They all sit within 5 miles of each other on either side of the village of
Bessemer, along the Gogebic Range, and all face Lake Superior, 17 miles to the
north. Iron ore was found here in 1880, and Bessemer, Ironwood and neighboring
Hurley, Wis., became rough-and-tumble mining towns until the 1960s, when their
deep-shaft mines no longer could stand competition from the open-pit taconite
mines of Minnesota’s Iron Range. Today, the old-fashioned downtowns of
Ironwood and Hurley look stuck in the ’60s; they’re a fascinating side trip
off U.S. 2.
People here are friendly, and so are the prices. My $90 main-lodge room
included free skiing for my two children. At Powderhorn, all children under 13
ski free. At Blackjack, lift tickets were $15, $10 for children. Peak-season
skiing and lodging cost quite a bit more, but specials and packages cut costs,
and those who plan ahead can buy an Adventure Card, a $75 unrestricted pass to
the three resorts plus Whitecap, 35 miles to the west in Wisconsin.
In three days, we packed in a lot of skiing. After the first run on the
first day, Peter, 7, was shouting, “I love skiing; it’s my favorite sport!” We
schussed right from the slopes onto the chairlifts, progressing from green to
blue runs, and on the second day Peter and his sister, Madeleine, 10, were
ready for the five-hour Cruiser camp for snowboarders. There was learning
everywhere; as the Cruisers and their instructor, Katie Hagen, took off,
instructor Dominic Koh was showing a “falling-leaf” technique to two teen-age
girls, who he said were “doing awesome.”
“Now that it’s becoming more mainstream, everyone wants to try it,” he
said.
Over at Blackjack, teen boys were flying into the air from its half-pipe,
and parents were skiing behind toddlers, holding them in check with twine
harnesses. But another part of Big Snow Country was beckoning — Black River
Recreation Area, where trails lead to five waterfalls on the Black River as it
drops over ancient slabs of volcanic rock and into Lake Superior.
Sandstone Falls was only a quarter-mile from County Road 513, mostly along
steps into the still river gorge. It was almost encased in ice, but plumes of
golden water, dyed by the bark of hemlocks, still were pushing downstream.
From the road above Sandstone Falls, a stretch of the North Country Trail
leads half a mile to Rainbow Falls; snowshoes would make it easy to see both.
Cross-country skiers also gravitate to the Upper Peninsula. The Porcupines,
45 miles to the northeast, have 42 miles of trails, and Ironwood has about 31
miles of groomed trails within 3 miles of town. Snowmobilers, too, flock to
the U.P., especially when their home conditions are bad.
In Michigan, the U.P. is so remote it’s considered the state’s own Alaska
— 600 miles from Detroit, contributing only 4 percent of the state’s
population and no longer good for mineral wealth.
The U.P., however, has one last resource — snow and more snow. And to
winter-loving residents in neighboring states, that’s a rich one indeed.
