The Toledo Compromise

Gladwin – Ludington, via Cadillac, Michigan

Who’s heard of the Toledo War? Not me.

I guess it was quite the big thing at the time. 

You see, in the 1830s the Michigan Territory was aiming for statehood and, because of some mapping errors, they thought that the area that is now Toledo, Ohio should be part of their new state. Ohio, which was already a state, was none too pleased with this development. The two sides starting arming militias and essentially had a big stare down. There was only one casualty. Monroe County Deputy Sheriff Joseph Wood was stabbed with a penknife by a guy named Two Stickney, an Ohioan who was resisting arrest in a saloon. 

The more interesting part of the “war” was how it was resolved. President Andrew Jackson essentially sold Wisconsin down the river. His solution: give Michigan the western three-quarters of the U.P. – which had been part of the Wisconsin Territory – in exchange for: 1) admitting Michigan into the union as the 26th state, and 2) Michigan giving up its claim to the Toledo Territory. 

Marquette. Copper Harbor. Iron River. Ironwood. Isle Royale. Rightfully they should all be part of the Great Cheese State. I guess Wisconsin was still getting itself organized as a territory at the time, and they didn’t even have the Packers yet – so the rest of the country just walked all over them. 

Think of it. Wisconsin would have at least 37 more people, 14 pasty shops, a couple of packs of wolves, and a whole passel of moose. And with the additional bodies of water, they could take Minnesota’s mantle as the Land of Lakes. We probably wouldn’t even have the butter.

Oh, and without the U.P., Michigan couldn’t rightfully call itself the Wolverines – because, let’s face it, no self-respecting wolverine has ever lived in the lower peninsula. Based on the roadkill we’ve seen recently Michigan would be more aptly named the Raccoons or the Porcupines. Hard to see how the Fab Five would ever have been a thing if it was the University of Michigan Trash Bandits. 

Instead, poor Wisconsin wound up as the Badgers – one of the great diggers of the animal kingdom. And, actually, even that isn’t quite accurate. I guess Wisconsin’s nickname comes from early miners, who took shelter by living in the holes that they had dug – kind of imitating actual badgers. Kind of sad, really.

Of course, my own opinion is based almost entirely on skiing. I mean, the mineral extraction in the UP is pretty much dried up. But who, in their right mind, would trade some of the best cross country skiing on earth for a town on Lake Erie (the bottom feeder of the Great Lakes) with a minor league baseball team called the Mud Hens?

Seriously, after being in the lower peninsula for a week or so I guess we’ve been struck by just how much it feels like Minnesota and Wisconsin. People head “up north” or “to the lake” (Cadillac, Traverse City, and maybe the U.P.), the food is basically the same (they even have malts), there’s a mix of forest and farms, with wild rice in the north, the big cities are located in the bottom one-third of the states, they all have Big Ten schools, they all have professional football, baseball and basketball teams, and all three states have pretty significant Native American reservations. 

Even the state names themselves have similarities . . .

• Minnesota is derived from the Sioux word Mnisota – which refers to the Minnesota River, but can also mean cloudy or tinted water, or even land of sky blue waters. 
• Michigan is derived from the Ojibwe word Mishigami – which means “large water” or “big lake.” French explorers originally adopted the word to refer to the Great Lakes region or to Lake Superior in particular. 
• Wisconsin is the English spelling of a French version of a Miami Indian name for the river that runs 430 miles through the center of the state (what we now call the Wisconsin River). In particular, the Miami (whose territory used to extend to what is now southern Wisconsin) used the word Meskousing to refer to a “river running through a red place” because of the red cliffs surrounding the river. The French put this word to their spelling: Ouisconsin, which was later Anglicized to its current spelling. 

Okay, but what about the last few days? 

Yesterday was tough. Only about 50 miles – but it felt like we were going uphill with the wind in our faces all day. And it didn’t help that we were on big, traffic-y roads either. 

Nonetheless, we made it to Mark and Sue’s place – and the day was spectacular from there. We became fast friends with the Lansers years ago because Sue and Diana were in the same residency program at North Memorial.

We lived just down the street from them. We played lots of ultimate frisbee together, we went camping together, and Mark and I did house projects (Mark is one of the most real-world competent people I’ve ever met . . .).

So great to pick up right where you left off – even after moves, kids, careers, and 26 years . . . 

Friends like that are invaluable!

And it was also great to do laundry, eat a home cooked meal, re-fill the salt shaker, and the sugar container, take a swim (Diana) and sleep in a real bed . . .

We were both worried about today’s ride. 70+ miles from their house to Ludington – where the Badger Ferry heading to Wisconsin leaves from. And there was supposed to be a fierce wind – coming right at us. 

But it turned out to be fantastic. Incredible fall colors.

Generally downhill (Mark and Sue live near the high point of the lower peninsula and Ludington, being on Lake Michigan, is a lot lower), and the wind, while a little blustery, was never that bad. 

Mark says that the nice part of the lower peninsula is in the northwest – kind of draw a line from Ludington to a little east of Cadillac and then to the Mackinac Bridge – and he thinks we enjoyed today more because we were riding in the good part of the state. He might be on to something there. Basically, the whole section of the world from Niagara Falls, across central Ontario, and into and through the thumb of Michigan is kind of flat, with lots of farmland, and it’s not that terribly interesting. 

Anyway, we ended up making it to Ludington by 2:30 or so – which gave us plenty of time to go swimming in Lake Michigan. A little cold, but, according to Dr. Liu, it felt clean (which she contrasted with many of the swims she’s endured lately . . .).

The other big thing that’s been on my mind lately is Hemingway’s short stories. There are a few of them that take place in this general neck of the woods – or, more particularly, even farther up north – right in the heart of the area that Mark says is the best of Michigan. I guess Hemingway’s family had a cabin on Walloon Lake and some of the stories I love are centered there. 

The collection In Our Time includes many of these, including Indian Camp, The End of Something, and The Three Day Blow. Love Hemingway. Next time I’m in this area I’m visiting Walloon Lake for sure . . .

Alright, so tomorrow we take the Badger Ferry to Manitowac in Wisconsin. Fully expecting to find salted nut rolls soon . . .

Very excited to return home. But also starting to be a little sad that our adventures will soon be over. It’s been difficult on occasion, but I’ve loved spending this much time with Dr. Liu . . .

Maybe it’s the Toledo Compromise of our lives. We give Old Dan and Little Ann a rest, but we get our bed and our dog and our chickens and our friends and family in return. It took a while for the UP to show its value. Maybe it will take a few days to figure out whether the road or the house is better now…