Alexandra+Scharf


 * [|Suburbs and school enrollment]
 * [|Chinook salmon, fishing industry]
 * page 71

“Love is a Walloon Day”  After six hours in our old, beat up suburban with no air conditioning, the “Welcome to Boyne City” sign awakens in me feelings of joy and excitement unmatched by any others. As we drive through town, the quaint shops and lakeside parks invoke a sense of comfort and peace. Passing the faded, gold and blue painted signs, the excitement inside of me continues to grow. Just as I am about to burst from anticipation, we pull onto the dirt road that leads to a place I know by heart. First the entrance sign, which has been welcoming campers since 1962 (Touran), closely followed by Amy’s Garden; the delicate flowers and colorful pottery there to remind us of the unpredictability of life and the strength of those who must move forward but not forget. Next the rock, a camp monument, bringing us one step closer. My dad always suggests that we take our annual photo on the way in so as to avoid the teary eyes of the departure, but we object, insisting that we wait until the following Saturday. I have arrived at my second home, eager to see old friends and return to familiar places.  For one week of every year, Cabin 8 in North Camp is my family’s home away from home. There is a constant debate throughout the camp over which is better, North Camp or South Camp. My family has always stayed in North Camp since the first summer we went up to Michigania. As new campers, my parents followed behind me as I paraded through the shaded landscape in my little outfits with cute patterns and frills (quickly replaced by little T-shirts and boys’ clothes from the thrift store in Boyne City). Unlike shady, peaceful North Camp, South Camp is more open and busy. South campers argue that there is more going on in South Camp and that North Camp is too secluded, but I wouldn’t trade my week in cabin N8 for anything. In the end, the “war” between North and South campers is all in good fun and both sides of camp have many things to offer.  Michigania has two beaches, North and South. They follow the same trends as the camps themselves. South beach is the place if you want to lie out in the sun, swim out to the raft, or just be in water that is more than knee deep. There is a considerable amount of activity, and the beach knows no age restrictions. North beach is the opposite. It is where the little kids go with staphers (not staffers) during morning activities. They play games, build sand castles, catch minnows and chase one another until they have run out of energy, not a common occurrence for young children. There are times, however, when North beach is completely vacant. On more than one occasion, I have found myself alone there, taking a break from friends and activities. At this very moment I can close my eyes and with little effort, transport myself to that place. I can feel the gentle breeze and the warmth of the sun on my skin, the cool water and the sand between my toes. Time stops and I feel as though I am in tune with something greater than myself. In that place I am at peace. Just as quickly as that feeling washes over me, it washes away as I am called back by a friend shouting for me to join them.  During a week at Michigania, there is not a dull moment; the list of possible activities is endless. In a single day at camp, I could wake up early and rush to the barn to bring in and groom the horses, go to breakfast, spend the remainder of the morning at ceramics working on projects, go to lunch (at the beach or the dining hall), head down to one of the many nature trails to the high ropes course, make it over to the barn just in time for a riding lesson, and go to North beach to relax in the sand before the dinner bell. On the other hand, my day could go in a completely different direction. I could wake up late, miss breakfast, grab a snack and spend the morning reading on the porch of my cabin or in the Ed center, head to lunch, walk over to the nature center to hang out with the staphers, play a card game or find one of the many eco-friendly crafts to work on (headbands from T-shirts, dream catchers, or recycled paper), go out on a kayak, and head to dinner. The way you spend your time is completely up to you. Although campers are now enjoying the beauty of Michigania and Walloon, we are not the first to inhabit this place. Walloon Lake has been home to many others. Since it was formed by glaciers, Walloon has been the setting to many peoples’ stories. The Chippewa or Objibwa Indians lived off of the land and from the the lake. It was then Lake Muqua (Bear Lake) and later Lake Talcott. The lake’s name is said to have changed from Talcott to Walloon because a group of Walloons from Belgium settled the land at the north end of the lake. J.R. Hass, a local butcher, found the name on an old railroad map. No traces of the settlement have ever been found, but the story lives on and so does the lake’s name (Wikipedia).  In 1871, the land was given to the Grand Rapids & Ironton Railroad Company by the U.S. government to encourage the expansion of territory (Williams). Years later, families from Chicago took the train from Clarion to Walloon Village and from there take steam ferries to their cottages (Touran). Windemere, the childhood home of Ernest Hemmingway, is located on the North Shore. The cottage was declared a National Historic Landmark in 1968 (Wikipedia). It is still owned by Hemmingway’s nephew. Later Kelsey Lumber and then the Joshua Harper Lumber company in 1894 logged the land for white pine and hardwoods which helped to rebuild Chicago after the Great Chicago Fire in 1871 (Wikipedia). Michigania itself was originally a sawmill and a farm before it became Camp Sherwood-Huntingdon Camp, a summer camp for girls and boys (Williams), and remnants of the mill can still be found on the shoreline by cabins 9 and 10 in South Camp (Touran). In 1962, the Michigan Alumni Association purchased the land, and the rest is history.  Michigania is a place of opposites. It is a place of relaxation and a place of activity, an escape and a second home. Most of all, it is a place of new experiences and of tradition. Although every year is different from the next, it is the familiarity that brings people back. Many of the families have been going to Michigania for several generations. Many of the kids who have been going there all of their lives end up being staphers in college. I have a connection to Michigania and to Walloon that I hope to share with my children someday. It is, by far, my favorite place in Michigan.

