“It’s beautiful,” Denny said
for at least the eighth time in the last fifteen minutes. He snapped
another picture. “I should have brought my wide angle lens.”
Rob leaned against the railing
and breathed in the cool mist coming from the liquid gold of upper
Tahquamenon Falls. He had been wanting to return here for years but had
never found the time. Denny flying out like this had given him the
perfect excuse, although the circumstances could have been better. They
had done a lot of camping together when they were younger, but that had
ended when Rob moved to Michigan almost ten years ago. Denny had never
seen the Upper Peninsula, and Rob figured getting him out in the woods
again was probably the best thing he could do for him right now.
Denny put the camera back in the
bag, went to the rail, and leaned in beside him. Rob closed his eyes,
listening to the roar of the two-hundred foot falls and smelling the
dampness of the forest.
“This was a great idea,” Denny said.
“Yeah. I love it here.”
“But it’s not quite the same, is it?”
Rob opened his eyes and looked at
his cousin. He didn’t look like he was going to cry again, but his
voice sounded a little shaky. “We were younger then. All of us.”
“Is that what happened? We grew up?”
“Maybe,” Rob said, pushing himself off the rail. “C’mon, let’s go for a hike.”
They started up the long wooden
stairway that scaled the red and brown cliff face. It was a long climb,
and they stopped at the top to rest their legs. Denny leaned against
the rail again, then slapped at his cheek.
“Geez. They’re thick here.”
Rob laughed. “Just be glad it’s
only mosquitoes. It’s too late in the season for black flies.”
Denny studied the splotch of blood on his palm “What are black flies?”
“Only slightly less painful than failed relationships.”
Denny wiped his palm on his jeans. “Interesting comparison.”
“This way,” Rob said, starting
down the asphalt walk. “It’s about four miles to the lower falls. You
up to it?”
Denny shrugged. “Why not?”
They followed the paved walk
until it reached the dirt trail that led to the lower falls. Tall
cedars, spruces, and hemlocks shaded the trail, and dense foliage
between their trunks made the forest seem impenetrable. But the trail
was well maintained, and their boots crunched on gravel as they walked,
sending chipmunks and gray squirrels off into the bush. They walked
single-file, in silence, the way they used to.
After half-an-hour or so, they reached
a clearing. The forest was still damp, and a low fog clung to the long
grass to either side of the trail. Rob felt a hand on his shoulder. He
stopped walking, and Denny stepped up beside him.
“Can I ask you something?” Denny said.
“Sure.”
“What was it like with you two?”
He looked past Denny’s shoulder
toward the treetops, where he could see a ghost of the moon. The clouds
were almost completely gone now. What was it like? It was like the
storm last night--it pours and it pours and you’re cold and
uncomfortable and you wonder if it’s ever going to stop. But eventually
the sun comes out, and you can either stay damp and miserable, or
change into dry clothes and hang up the bag and air it out.
“It was rough at first,” Rob finally said.
“So how did you get through it?”
“You’ll make it.”
“And what about the kids?”
“My daughter’s doing fine now.”
They started walking again as the
sun rose from behind the treetops. A while later they passed a huge
fallen cedar, its twisted black roots ripped completely out of the
ground, and its trunk now gray and covered with a bright green moss. It
seemed like there should be something he could say to Denny, but he
couldn’t think of anything. Not that anything he said would make a
difference anyway.
Denny pulled out his camera and lined up the fallen tree. “I’m sorry about last night.”
“Don’t worry about it. I can’t even tell you how many nights I had like that.”
“Why don’t I find that
reassuring?” Denny snapped on the lens cover and started walking again.
Rob followed.
“Want me to lie to you and tell you it’s easy?”
“Actually, yeah. I do.”
About half way to the lower falls
they stopped at another clearing and sat on a couple of old stumps. The
sun had climbed almost directly overhead and it was getting warm. Rob
handed Denny the canteen. He took a sip and handed it back, then
scanned the clearing. A shadow of a hawk sailed across the long grass.
“I like this place,” Denny said.
“But Petosky was kind of disappointing. It was nothing like he
described it.”
Rob screwed the lid on the
canteen and wiped his forehead. “That was a long time ago. Things
change.”
“Yeah, well I’m not sure I want
to bother with Two-Hearted any more. I’m getting tired of
disappointments.”
“I guess that means Key West is out, too.”
“And Paris.”
“Let’s go.” Rob slapped Denny on
the knee. “What’s up ahead makes the whole trip worth it.”
Behind them the powerful upper
falls still thundered and raged. Ahead of them lay the lower falls, a
series of five smaller ones cradling a small island between them. But
after the lower falls, the amber waters of the Tahquamenon once again
grew calm and peaceful, and that was the part he really wanted Denny to
see.
Thanks for Visiting!