Day 838: Eyes See U.P. Big Boys

I cup my hands around my eyes to shield them from the intensity of the northern sun, as if I have lived my entire life under there. “Under”, where most of us live, according to the residents of Michigan’s hinterland. The Upper Peninsula. The banana shaped land south of Lake Superior. You know you've gone too far if you find yourself in Ontario, Canada, otherwise known as "The U.P.'s Outhouse". Why? European in nature.
Here I am, map in hand, ready to mark it. It. Marquette County, where the fabled Big Boy Graveyard was said to exist. Up to this point it had eluded me, like the Dogman, or the flavor of the Michigan Banana. But I now bear witness to the Brethren of Big, standing guard over the lost souls of Elias. It is no small task upholding the immutable beef. It gives me comfort to know there is such a place for their fallen comrades, their long-suffering champions, their top bananas.
By the way, do you know what the Michigan state fruit is? Cherries.
Orange you glad I didn't say banana?

Photo credit: U.P. Supply Co.