The Houghs: Yooper Troopers, Pt. IV

(contd.)

Welcome to scenic Houghton, folks. This is where I decided we'd spend my birthday: I wanted to check out Keeweenah Brewing and the old Quincy Copper Mine, as well as the Ambassador Restaurant. We rolled in around 11am, and made straight for the top of the mountain overlooking the town.

The streets of this town are all ridiculously steep - I don't see how folks live up here in the winter, it'd be almost impossible to drive in these conditions.

Had to cross this bridge in order to get to the other side of the river (I think the town on the far side is called Hancock. . .?)

I hate bridges.

Across the river, in what I think is the town of Hancock.

The Quincy Copper Mine. When we arrived, we bought tickets for the underground mine tour, but unfortunately the next one available was at 2:30pm that afternoon. Seeing how it was only something like 11am, we decided to stroll around the ground level buildings - there were quite a few to see (like those shown here), hit up the gift shop, and otherwise kill some time before heading back across the river to grab some lunch.

Abandoned transport cars.

Some old-ass building.

The engine house. Inside this building was a giant-ass engine (you'll see it in a bit) that's sole function was to haul cable cars filled with miners and ore up from hundreds of feet below the surface of the earth.

The giant, metal cables used to do the hauling went first through the engine house then hundreds of yards away to this giant tower, where some kind of pulley continuously ran the cables in and out.

Look. A cooling pond. Or, rather, what's left of it.

Definitely a lot of stuff to take pictures of in a place like this. I whittled down my pics substantially at the end of the day, rest assured.

Oh look - another pic of Abby climbing on a big rock.

One of these things (forget what they're called) in front of two, aging locomotives.

Side view of the engine house.

Kris on something.

Some obligatory artsy train pics. . .

Another miner house, somewhat nice than those we saw in Old Victoria.

Inside the miner's house.

Another stove that is in desperate need of some rust remover.

The miner who lived in this house with his wife - her office shown here, I assume - lived with something like a dozen kids. I bet he was prematurely grayed. Like me.

Aboard the rail car that would take us down the mountain to the mine later on in the afternoon. Hope the brakes work.

Crumbling ruins. It's crazy to think how populated this area was at one time. Outside of Detroit, back in the late 1900s, this area had the largest population in the state, all thanks to the extensive logging, and then mining, that went on here. Now it's practically a ghost town. . . like most of the rest of the U.P.

Tracks leading down the mountain.

Walking video tour.

Abby's actually wearing her glasses today. It's a miracle.

Lots of scattered iron machinery. No idea what any of it was.

There were several crumbling stone and brick buildings, and I'm sure we were told at some point in time what they all were originally, buuuut I forget now.

While Kris, Rita and the girls hung out in the van - it was extremely muggy out, having rained earlier and now hovering in the mid-80s, so they were taking advantage of the van's A/C - Smitty and I alone walked around to check out the larger area. There was a giant hole inside that iron barricade that you couldn't see the bottom of. Not sure if it was an exhaust shaft or what, but it was hundreds of feet deep. Definitely got vertigo standing at the rail overlooking it.

More crumbling ruins. . .

Kinda like Rome or Pompeii, just not as cool.

The valley of Hancok, and further Houghton, seen through what's left of a window (or door, I don't know.)

Smitty exploring.

Back in the parking lot (that's the Visitor's Center/Gift Shop you see there.)

Heading back across the river once again, this time for Houghton.

(Not sure what river this is. You could Google it if you really wanted to.)

Downtown Houghton. Home of Michigan Tech.

Few women alive match my wife's Resting Bitch Face. She looks like she's looking for the town's manager or something.

Keeweenah Brewing Company, one of the U.P.'s biggest breweries, has a very inconspicuous storefront. You'd barely notice it. We planned on stopping here after our mine tour.

The group soldiers forth to lunch.

The Ambassador Restaurant. My buddy Erik, who used to live up here, highly recommended the place, so - seeing how it was my birthday and everything - I made the executive decision that this is where we'd be having lunch.

There was about a 30-minute wait, so Kris, Rita and the girls went into a few neighboring souvenir stores while Smitty and I saddled up to the bar and had a few local U.P. craft beers. Can't complain at all, the atmosphere was super awesome, as you can clearly see here. Very 1920s.

A lot of murals from the early 20th century. Reminds me a lot of the Doherty Hotel back in Clare.

We were seated sooner than expected, and got a large table in the back room, surrounded by huge murals.

There you go, folks. 1902.

Some Masonic undertones, here.

Grub time. We ate quick and immediately asked for the check when our food came - we were running out of time before our tour started, so we definitely felt a rush. Still highly recommend the place, though.

Some pretty old school buildings in this town.

Back at the old Quincy Copper Mine, our tour group gathered in the old engine house to watch some super quiet, super boring, VHS tape about the history of the mine. Like, early-90s, educational documentary VHS tape. It was excruciating.

After the video, we had a couple minutes to use the restrooms and prepare for our descent into the mines. I used this time to take some pics of random crap around the building (half of which was now a museum of sorts, as you can see from all this. . . copper.)

Hard hats, adult and child-sized. We had to wear these before going into the mines. You know, 'cause it's a mine.

Some model of what the place used to look like, a hundred years ago or so. Complete with working train (some old guy turned it on for me after seeing me photograph it. . . didn't have the heart to tell him I couldn't have cared less, as I'm not a big 'train' guy or anything.)

Drills.

Random mining stuff, I don't know.

Here's that giant engine I was telling you about earlier. It's massive, and pictures clearly don't give it justice at all.

Mining is not in their future.

This dude is some kind of mining engineer, and he's a big shot up here in Houghton. In a future blog post you'll see another picture of him, taken off of TV randomly one night - keep him in mind folks, you'll see him again. Anyway, he talked with us for a bit about the history of the mine and the area before handing the tour reigns off to a younger guy (who's name was Andy, I think.)

Andy led the tour group around the engine for a bit, explaining the process and how the mining operation went down - the process of guys being lowered in, how they extracted the ore, and how they got it back out, day in and day out. Interesting stuff, but there was zero wind inside the building and everyone was sweaty and miserable.

Finally, after an hour or so, it was time to descend into the mines, so we donned our hard hats and boarded the train that would take us down the mountain.

Rollin' down the mountain. . .

I might have been praying for the entirety of our descent that the brakes would hold.

At the base of the mountain, near the entrance to the Quincy Copper Mine.

The second we stepped foot off the trolley (or whatever the hell you call it), you could feel a noticeable temperature drop. Cold drafts from the mine were felt from a hundred feet away, and as we got closer they intensified. See the women in the light blue sweatshirt? She was a local and a textbook Karen by all accounts - she had an answer to every question, and a question for every statement. Everyone in our group - including our tour guide - despised her from the get-go.

Entering the mines. It was 43 degrees inside, unlike the mid-80s on the surface. Everyone was told to bundle up accordingly.

Andy the tour guide, showing us something. I forget.

Showing how they extracted ore from the mountain.

It was against the rules to take video inside the mine, but clearly the folks at Quincy Copper Mine have never heard of the Houghs. Or their blog.

Some mine vehicle, looks like it came straight from the set of Total Recall.

Looking down the mine, back towards the entrance.

Back in the 1970s, students taking mining and engineering courses at Michigan Tech built a makeshift classroom right inside the mine in order to cut down on commute times between classroom and on-site learning. Pretty ingenious, really. . . and only slightly less shitty than the classrooms I taught in down in Orlando.

Classroom tour.

Old droids?

Heading deeper into the mines.

At this point in time, he passed around a big piece of copper for everyone to take turns holding, but Karen's kid - no joke - sneezed all over it, and immediately afterwards she says, "It should be okay, he doesn't have the Covid." Needless to say, no one else wanted to hold it after that, so only like her and the four or five people before her got to hold it. Thanks, Karen.

This chunk of copper weights hundreds and hundreds of pounds.

The picture sucks, due to low lighting, but this cavern is vast - like, St. Peter's Cathedral big. Crazy to think of the scope of this place, which goes down for hundreds and hundreds of more feet.

Demonstrating how miners worked by candlelight. At one point in time, he turned off all the floodlights and left us in pitch-black for two minutes before he lit the candle, and by then our lights had fully adjusted to the dark. Doesn't seem possible until you undergo the process.

She powered through this, I had my concerns.

Drill guns (not sure what their real name is), which were introduced in the 1950s, therabouts, to speed up production.

Waiting for the next group of tourists so we could catch a ride back up the mountain.

Scaling back up the mountain.

Needed a family pic, this seemed a suitable backdrop.

And of course one with Rita and Smitty.

Back in downtown Houghton, I passed by this record shop, but, like so many other businesses downtown, it was closed. Today was Monday, and most places were closed on account of Sunday being the Fourth of July. Just my luck.

This dude scares me.

I finally was able to duck into Keeweenaw Brewery in the afternoon, which was on my to-do list for my birthday. Unfortunately this place wasn't nearly as awesome as I'd hope it would be - barely any merch to speak of, not a lot of 'brewery-only' beers on tap (just the stuff you can buy anywhere, even in my neck of the woods back home.)

Available options, in case you were curious.

It's hard to enjoy a pint of beer when your wife's not drinking and your kids are restless.

Bored children.

Fortunately, Kris and Rita took the girls over to a nearby Dairy Queen for some ice cream in order to give me and Smitty a little time to have a few pints at the brewery. It was a godsend, and clearly the kids were a big fan of this move as well.

After an hour or so, they picked us up and we set off back towards Duane's rental.

Along the way, Smitty wanted to check out a couple stops, but most of them were a bust due to places being closed, or being too far away (everything in the U.P. is a drive, folks.)

We did find a beach and lighthouse, though - enough of a detour for the kids to check out the water and for Yours Truly to get some pictures taken.

I don't know the name of this beach or this lighthouse, I apologize.

Abby amidst crashing waves.

The sand here, though fine, was a dark grey color. Unlike anything I've ever seen before. Maybe it has something to do with all the iron in the ground. . .?