This article was originally written on September 10, 2020 on The Restless Viking website.
As Chuck and I celebrate our 25th wedding anniversary in December, I have glanced back over so many memories and crazy trips. This “trip” was the start of a wonderful life together!
The early years . . . 1990
After two years of friendship Chuck and I had grown in our commitment that took us by surprise. We’d been walking around downtown Kalamazoo, Michigan one evening when we decided to stop for dinner. As we were maneuvering chopsticks Chuck said, “I guess I can’t see any reason why we shouldn’t be dating.” We’d met at Western Michigan University in 1988 and hung out . . . often. We stayed connected and committed to each other but we were both independent and determined to follow our own career paths.
Chuck’s graduation from basic training in the 90s Fort Knox, Kentucky
Four years later, I was teaching elementary school in Lowell, Michigan. Chuck had just returned from three years in the army where he’d been deployed to lots of countries during his short stent.
Day One
One July evening I came home to find Chuck on the couch. I fluttered around the small lake cottage that we had rented in Greenville, Michigan. His eyes danced tracking my paths about the house. He murmured something about me calling information to ask an encyclopedia type question about the show he was watching. (It was 1995. An era before Google was a thing. One could call “Information” and a person would answer questions usually about addresses and phone numbers.) I don’t recall his exact curiosity. One of my faults is not always listening. His murmur grew in volume and his request was so ridiculous that I can’t even place an exact memory to what it was. I went to phone and lifted the receiver. A folded paper from a spiral notebook was lying there. It read,
“Marti,
What is a place to fill the belly?
What lies near a lake and is full of eateries?
What can be found there is the beginning
of what comes from 5 years of hoopla.
Your boyfriend,
Charlie
‘How cute – a poem.’ I thought and then read it again. I realized this was the beginning of a scavenger hunt which Chuck had referred to previously. These clues would lead me to an engagement ring. I was smitten. “Eatery…What lies near a lake…” I said aloud and began rummaging through our own kitchen. ‘After all our cottage was on Perch Lake. The next clue MUST be right here! ‘ As I looked in the fridge and the freezer I recalled my Grandfather Meade would leave a $50.00 bill after every visit. We three kids had a blast looking for it. This hunt would be even more precious to me. It would be remembered for my lifetime.
I didn’t have any luck. I re-read the note. Then I called information to get the number for The Clifford Lake Inn restaurant in Stanton, MI. Chuck and I had gone by there on a drive and he told me how it was the oldest bed and breakfast in Michigan. He said he wanted to propose to me there OR somewhere significant.
I called the ‘eatery’ and asked if there were reservations for “Hayden.” No luck. “What are their hours?” Chuck inquired from the couch. “5:00-9:00 pm” I answered from the phone. (Phones were secured to the wall in those days.) “How much are the rooms?” Chuck asked from the couch. “They don’t rent rooms anymore.” I called from the phone. “What’s upstairs now?” Chuck wanted to know. I was beginning to feel completely impatient with this scene. So I kindly thanked the hostess and hung up.
“So…” I sat myself on the arm of the couch hoping Chuck would reveal an addition to the clue. He shrugged. I hammered him with questions looking for reassurance that I was on the right track. Finally, he invited me on a date the following day at the Clifford Lake Inn. In previous preparation for this scavenger hunt, Chuck had shared that I would be responsible for finding our way from one clue to another. So… the ring wasn’t in our freezer, surely I’d see it at the restaurant! Or so I thought. I retrieved a map of Stanton to locate The Clifford Lake Inn’s address. I was all set!
Day Two
The Clifford Lake Inn Photo courtesy of The Daily News
At Clifford Lake Chuck and I found a wooden swing. I sat along side Chuck soaking in the scenery to make the best memory vivid. A father and two sons glided over the still, grey water in a small metal rowboat. The orange life jackets seemed to swallow the two small boys so only tufts of hair were visible. Could this be the moment? I glanced at Chuck who was more involved with his cigarette than noticing my smile. Chuck started rocking oddly on the seat, not allowing the swing to continue forward. He explained, “It squeaks when it rocks forward.” We messed and fooled with the rocking for awhile. Once he discarded his cigarette we marched up hill toward the restaurant.
We were still early so we had a drink at the bar. Soon we were invited to our table. We were seated on a glassed in porch right at a window. Lace curtains adorned the white peeling-paint frame. It was charming in a rustic way. The scuffed wooden floor creaked as the waitress approached. She and Chuck shared a distinct look. Chuck with a nod of recognition and the waitress with a smirk. How adorable that Chuck had gone to all this trouble and having as much fun as I was. The time frame between ordering and receiving our meals seemed to last an extra long time.
The closely parked tables were arranged so conversations were less than private. The table behind Chuck had three older women seated at it. Two were talking, babbling, gossiping and the third appeared to be tolerating them. The waitress approached in our general direction. I could hear the floor whinny as she strolled. ‘ Oh Good! Our food! ‘ I thought. As she neared us, I leaned and turned my head hoping to see her arms full of our dinner plates, rather she had a birthday dessert lit with one candle. She passed our table and set it in front of the “tolerant” grey-haired woman. She nodded politely as a speckled assortment of diners sang, “Happy Birthday!” The three women bickered about calories and fat, then raised their spoons almost in unison and dug into the decadent dessert.
From behind me the flooring moaned, ‘Our food?’ I hoped. Chuck suddenly broke into a huge grin and his face turned bright pink. On top of my dinner was a brown folded paper and sealed with a Clifford Lake Hotel Sticker. I opened it to see medieval script consuming the entire page. I could hardly focus to read it.
It’s at 500 foot means sea level on a road named after a Canadian Railway,
up from the road, after the gate, or between the rocks.
Take a climb and cross the blacktop to the center
from here a surveyor can point in all directions and plot the area
Pace from the stone to the pole and feel the edge
There you will find your next step
Your boyfriend,
Charlie
I knew then that this was to be a fully fledged scavenger hunt. I needed to swallow some patience as we ate our dinner. The clue must refer to Fisk Knob – a look out hill we’d visited. It is the highest point in Kent County. But before we high tailed it all the way out there from Stanton, I wanted to check a map for the “Canadian Railway” road name. Chuck wanted to stop at his parent’s house in Sand Lake before we continued. I figured he needed to pick up the ring there. Fisk Knob would be a significant spot to propose. Butterflies danced inside.
When we arrived in Sand Lake I sped off to the bathroom, my usual routine. In doing so I missed any indication of what or why Chuck had wanted to stop by his folk’s home. There wasn’t a proper county map so we drove around the corner to The Great Northern Adventure Company, Chuck’s retail store of army surplus and outdoor gear. There were plenty of maps available. Using a topographical map I located Fisk Knob at 1,075 feet elevation and the road it is on: Algoma Road. (‘500 foot’ from the clue made me wonder if I had this clue correct.) By now the rain was pelting in a steady beat . . . as did my heart. How romantic to take me to this scenic lookout. . . IF this was the correct location.
As we rode in Chuck’s truck I was so caught up in my thoughts that I forgot to look for Algoma Road. It took me a few moments to check my location on the paper map. “Did we pass Algoma?” Chuck shrugged his response. “YOU KNOW . . . ” I allowed my voice to drip with harshness, I struggled to read road signs through the water streaked truck windows.
We got back on track, I honestly can’t remember now if we needed to turn around or not, but we managed to find the parking lot to the park. I read over the clue again, folded it and put it in my back pocket. The rain was forming hefty puddles now as the ground was saturated. I climbed the hill to the blacktop, found the stone and stood on it. All the way reciting the directions aloud and following them deliberately. “Cross to the pole and feel the edge.”
By this time my hair was matted to my head and I could feel dripping water onto my shoulders. The drizzle was accompanied by a cold, gusty wind. I walked to the pole. I looked up. I looked down. I walked around the pole. Nothing. Chuck came up behind me and reached into his inside pocket of his blue jean jacket. My heart flickered, ‘Here in the rain.’ I smiled. My elementary teacher self kicked in, ‘ not on a train, not in a tree.’ Dr. Suess’ Green Eggs and Ham story played in my brain. ‘How can I be thinking of little kid things right now at a time like this?’ I argued with myself as I struggled to pay attention. I grabbed a deep breath from the cold wind, refreshing myself for the next thing. . . which was Chuck trying to light a cigarette in the rain.
With disappointment and a definite hint of frustration I gave Chuck a stern look from under my eyebrows. “Well,” he shrugged, “What did the clue say?” “It said, ‘Go to the pole.’ Well, I am at the pole and I don’t see anything.” I kept my eyes on Chuck. “What else did it say?” he prompted. “Oh, I don’t know.” I scolded now soaked with rain. I read, ‘ Go to the pole…’ Chuck nodded and finished the line, “and feel the edge.” as if those three words would put it all together for me. I stood there shaking my head in the rain which caused a low effort sprinkler effect. “The EDGE…Think…where do you find the edge?” He helped. To him this was obvious. ‘Sure,’ I thought, ‘He’d written it.’ But now for me being wet, cold and tired, not to mention frustrated, I had reached my limit on this game for that day. “The edge is at the bottom. ” Chuck offered. Sure enough, there at the very bottom of the telephone pole was an envelope in a Ziploc. I reached for it. The bag was slippery with the water coating it. Plus, it was more than securely stapled. It was stuck. My hand slipped and then again. By the third try I was giggling. Suddenly, the whole predicament was hysterical to me. I glanced around looking for some video camera – Candid Camera or Funniest Home Videos? No luck. This was the real thing set up for my ‘enjoyment,’ purely for me.
Once we returned to the car I opened the next clue. Pathfinder, our husky -lab puppy, shook off her damp coat giving us a shower.
From here you can see the pristine wilderness across a heavy river
In autumn the trees are beautiful.
If you were to look for Ispeming or a route to Idlewild.
I sit facing the roll-a-way and my face is full of views.
They are your routes.
Under the shingled rim of my hat lies your next step.
Translated by your boyfriend
Charlie
Idlewild and Ispeming are names of cities so I thought the next stop may be near Manistee. But the clue also mentioned “Roll-a-way” which is a roadside lookout park. It’s closer, so I decided we should try that tomorrow.
We returned to his parents’ house. Nile, Chuck’s dad, wore a grin and was responsible for ALL the staples in the telephone pole at Fisk Knob. ‘They’re all in on this.’ I realized. ‘They are all enjoying this. It could take months!’ I thought about how this scenario would play out and I suddenly felt tuckered out. It was already 10:30 pm. I joke that I turn back into a pumpkin at 10:00 pm. I spread out the county map to find Roll-a-way. It was difficult to focus on the lines and words. The next thing I knew, Chuck was shaking my shoulder. I’d dozed on the map smudging some markings on the paper map. We drove back to our cottage sharing only a few words.
Day Three
I ass/u/med the next stop was High Roll-a-way, but I couldn’t be sure where it was on the map and I was suppose to give the directions as we drove from location to location. The fun was seeping away as frustration was creeping in. Chuck noticed my tolerance level was reaching a threshold point and gave me some focused clues about how to find it. “It’s circled in pencil on the map.” Now THAT was as obvious as one could get, but I was still missing the point. I was looking in the wrong area. Finally, he tapped the map showing the me exact spot. We proceeded to High Roll-a-way. I read the clues aloud as we drove. “It may not be a real hat.” Chuck coaxed me into understanding. “It may not be an actual face.” I navigated us to the parking lot more confidently. (Well, this destination was circled on the map.)
We pulled into the roadside viewing area overlooking a river. Chuck drove quite a long way down the parking lot and parked directly in front of a wooden map stand with a shingled roof. We had been to this spot several times before. One memorable time was shortly before Chuck went into the Army. We’d walked down the steep incline to have a picnic. Some older man kept yelling down to us trying to carry on a conversation, interrupting our romantic moment. Now this would be an amazing place to solidify our life commitment to one another.
I hopped out of the truck and headed for the map display. The tree branches danced down the hill in the distance. I looked high and low on the map stand, but I had no luck. “Didn’t it say, ‘Facing the Roll-a-way?” Chuck assisted. I peeked around to the other side of the stand and again looked high and searched low. With a shrug and a snort I walked to the top edge of the hill to overlook the ‘pristine wilderness.’ Chuck seemed to like ‘edges’ in his clues. This gave me a moment to recall the purpose of this hunt and the time Chuck had put into planning these memories. I turned back and strolled to the display. There under a shingle was an envelope. “I can’t believe you missed that?” Chuck chided with a sly grin.
In the town named for a sand bar in its lake
there lies a place for knowledge, adventure and facts.
The building has a number of stories.
In the one with the history of the area that is unioned in 1826
lies your next step.
Your boyfriend,
Charlie
A clue written on his store’s letterhead. Cool!
I thought of the Sand Lake Museum which is housed in an old one room school house. I made Chuck drive there just to find it was closed. Chuck kept restating, “Knowledge, adventure and facts…” raising his eyebrows … “history of the area…” I elicited Chuck’s help. He was obstinate only repeating the clue. I became short tempered. He walked across the street and pointed to the sign, “LIBRARY.” The light bulb clicked for me, but the doors at the library were locked as well.
Day Four
The following morning I had arrived at the library before the librarian. I sat on the wall until she showed up. I followed her closely as she strolled inside and asked where the history books were. I planted myself on the floor in front of the section. I glanced through books and some pages. I only had a short time before I needed to open Chuck’s shop. I asked the librarian if there were any books about Sand Lake’s history. She led me back to where I’d been searching and pointed to the bottom row. “Look in the large books here.” She smiled. (I later learned her name is Glenda. She proved to be a ‘good witch’ and magical with her guidance!) A little green book mark was shoved behind a book jacket.
Off the freeway, down the gravel road,
to the road named after George
to the tree and feel the edge
Your Boyfriend
Charlie
This clue was written on the back of a free library bookmark.
Chuck grew up in an A frame home on George K Drive right on Sand Lake. After working all day at The Great Northern Adventure Company, I sped to George K. Drive. I was sure the next clue must be on a tree which reaches over the lake from the shore of the Hayden’s old property. I knocked on a few doors asking permission for a look-see. I searched and looked for my next clue. Before I realized it, many neighbors had joined in. It was charming. I climbed a bent branch of a weeping willow tree at the property line. No luck. I thanked the crew that had assembled on my behalf and headed toward Chuck at the lumber mill for further guidance.
Here’s a map I’d sketched in my journal.
Chuck insisted that the clue was on George K. Drive. I asked could it be on Scott Drive? (The road that runs adjacent.) I explained how the neighborhood had been out in full force. Chuck admitted that the clue was behind a sign. There was a sign on the corner of Scott Drive and Daggat Road. When I checked out the back of that sign, BINGO!
I am at a place which people are dying to get in
The heads of the people here look in the same direction
Near a small building there lies a story of someone’s grandparents
There you’ll find your next step.
Your boyfriend
Charlie
I located the next clue with ease. Grandpa and Grandma Simpson had been keepers of this note.
I am a span across water
I am open at both sides
I am opened to you in July
There you will find me.
Look upon the Northwest gable rafter
Then turn directly around and look.
There you’ll find your final step.
Charlie
We went to Fallasburg bridge, one of three covered bridges in the area. Once there Chuck placed me below the fifth rafter looking to the NW gable. (Thank goodness since my sense of direction can be struggle.) He called for me to turn around. There he stood holding a diamond ring in his palm. He took my hand in his and began to put it on my finger. “Wait!” He stated and pulled the ring back off. Chuck crouched down on one knee, “Will you marry me?” I nodded a lot. “Yes” I finally managed. We hugged with a kiss. Once we released we walked arm and arm to the south east. A fisherman turned his glance from us and back to his pole. I stopped to explain what he’d just witnessed. “Well, I hope ya know what you’re doin’” He said and offered his hand for a handshake.
Fallasburg Covered Bridge. Photo courtesy of Bruce Doll.
I wish I had relished in each clue and enjoyed the experience better than I had. I like having control and during this nearly week long endeavor, I am guilty of focusing on the frustration of not knowing or understanding parts of the clues. Chuck had worked so hard on this. He shared that he needed more time to pay off the ring, but wanted me to know his intentions. I appreciate all the effort he has put into proposing. In this twenty-five year journey we have had many puzzles to figure out along the way. I am thankful that we’ve done it together!
Lake Michigan 2011. Photo Credit our daughter Charlotte.
On the northern shore of Lake Superior 2007 Noah (5) and Charlotte (11)
In December we celebrate our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. I am so fortunate to have had Chuck as my partner and best friend. He lifts me up (sometimes literally) through challenges and makes life incredibly memorable. We have raised our two kids, Charlotte (24) and Noah (18) and now it’s time for more adventures as a couple.
Chuck, Noah (15) and I adventure about Lake Michigan in the Zodiac boat “Thor.”
Chuck and I in Costa Maya, Mexico 2018
Chuck treated our family to a hot air balloon ride in November 2019. Noah (17), Charlotte (23), Chuck(48) and me (50)
The Troll Tavern November 2019 Louisville, Kentucky
Paris February 2020
I am enjoying our adventures together, but I still like to keep my finger on the map when we travel.
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