Traveling with Al Ulven could get interesting at times, as a previous post showed. Reaching back into the murky depths of my childhood memories, there was one time that I wish I remembered more about. That was the mid-1970's expedition to the upper peninsula of Michigan to visit my half-brother Jud and his first wife, Therese. They lived up in the Houghton-Hancock area and for some reason Al decided to go with us. Perhaps he wanted to see the mining ranges up there, as he always had a curiosity about anything involving trade history around the Great Lakes. Curiosity has been said to kill the proverbial cat and Al was filled with curiosity about many things. In this case, it wasn't fatal but it certainly led him into a little trouble.
Somewhere just across the border into Michigan, a decision was made to take a short cut involving a back road that was parallel with the main highway. I do not know who made the decision, but with my father and Al being the only drivers, my suspicions lie with one or both. Back roads can be very inviting, offering scenery and local color you otherwise zoom past. Al loved back roads and my father's shortcuts were a subject of family legend. My late mother would have remembered whom to blame, no doubt.
While back roads can be enjoyable in good weather, taking them after major storms can get tricky. We got far enough to be in the middle of nowhere when the car ceased all forward movement. I'd say this is my first memory of mud so deep it sucked shoes off and stopped a car in its deep, deep tracks. The four of us piled out of the car and surveyed the muck after multiple failed attempts to get free. It was not taking us anywhere.
After some literal head scratching, Al and my dad tried to push it out. That did nothing but give everyone muddy pants legs, adding to the growing misery. Didn't seem to phase Al one bit though. There is an image in my mind of him sitting on the car, smiling despite the heat and dire predicament.
Hours went by, long hours. At some point, a decision was reached and a search began along the roadside. Some distance down the road, some old boards from a broken down fence were found and quickly brought back to the embedded car. After a few tries, the car finally found its caked wheels meeting dry road and we continued on. Al's laughter as we finally got going still lingers, for he'd won one of his small victories in life. It was something I'd get used to over the years.
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