Reviewed by Victor R. Volkman
As I read John Highlen’s new book Touching the Wild U.P., I became more and more interested in the coincidences of our respective lives. Both Highlen and I were students at Michigan Tech in the late 1980s and had a reverence for the beauty of the Copper Country. Because he was a Mechanical Engineer and I was in Computer Science, it’s unlikely we would’ve ever crossed paths unless it were passing in the Student Union or perhaps I might’ve handed him a greenbar printout over the counter of the EECS (pronounced “eeks”) underground computer Batch Station where I worked part-time until as late as 4 am. That’s where the similarities end as Highlen was a member of the Ridge Roamers outdoors club and my outdoor experience would consist of a few trips to the well-groomed campus cross-country ski trails and a handful of summer beach outings.
In his opening line, Highlen states that in the U.P. “No matter where you are, you’re usually not more than a few minutes away from experiencing nature’s wildness—maybe not pure wilderness, but wildness”. As someone who repeatedly got lost in my Orienteering class at MTU with the help of a compass and map, I can vouch for that personally.
Coincidences aside, John Highlen is a consummate outdoorsman as reflected in his memoir of hiking, backpacking, fishing, canoeing, ice climbing, cross-country skiing, hunting, and yes even maple sugaring on his 80-acre abode outside Deerton in Alger County. You can add log cabin builder to that as list as one chapter details his quest to build the family camp using timber felled near his downstate home then cut, finished, and assembled in his barn before hauled up north on friend’s flatbed tractor-trailer rig. But Highlen is even more than actions can describe as his prose waxes lyrical in places, I would not hesitate to brand him as an outdoor poet as some of these passages hint:
Paddling in Superior, I feel part of its immensity. I feel fluid, like part of the water. I feel freedom of mind, like a burden has been lifted and I should be thinking deep, flowing thoughts, but it’s usually a relatively short stay and those thoughts remained just out of reach. Sometimes it feels like there’s just too much to take in and ponder, and my mind can’t open up fast enough or big enough to hold it all.
I’ll be the first to admit I’m not a competent fisherman, even though I fished enough as a lad to catch the odd pike and panfish. And I couldn’t tell a brook trout from a rainbow trout even if it bit me. However, Highlen narrates his fishing adventures (both hit and miss) with a play-by-play commentary that had me on the edge of my seat and I learned a thing or two about fly fishing as well. With his engineer’s mind, he recounts fish sightings down to the inch.
As a devotee of outdoor adventure genre, I was sort of hoping for a Jack London Call of the Wild moment, perhaps getting seriously lost, injured, taken by a surprise Mother Superior storm, or pursued by wild beasts. Most of Highlen’s adventures end as planned though a few perhaps end wetter than planned. To be fair, he does detail some adrenaline-rushing close encounters with moose and bear along the way. The most embarrassing mishap would be a spectacular wipeout when he and his future wife cross-country ski up to the top of Brockway Mountain and back down again.
Highlen’s book is not just personal recollection but also chock full of ideas for your next great U.P. outdoor adventure beyond the well-trodden familiar places including such diverse sites as Rock River Canyon Wilderness, Crisp Point, Big Island Lake Wilderness, Lake Fanny Hooe, McCormick Wilderness just to name a few. The stories are enlivened with pen-and-ink drawings by Julie Highlen, the author’s spouse.
The book closes with a chapter on the importance of conservation and how we all have a role to play in preserving the delicate natural heritage of the U.P, regardless of how it has been scarred by logging of centuries past. He implores the reader to find some kind of conservation activity that sparks their passion and just get involved.
Perhaps the oldest cliché in the book reviewer’s handbook is the deathless phrase “Could not put this book down”, but I’ll take the bait here. I took Touching The Wild U.P. on vacation with me for an autumn week at a beachside cottage on Cathead Bay in Leelanau County. I read almost the whole book in one lovely Sunday afternoon so I think I can honestly say it was a read I couldn’t put down! If you’ve ever wandered a back country two-track in search of a reported but unlisted waterfall or simply enjoy paddling the many streams of the U.P, you’ll find a lot to enjoy in Highlen’s Touching the Wild U.P.
