The Irish Hills
An introduction to the science, history and myth of
a favorite southeast Michigan destination
by Bob Kellum
 n an era long ago, when time was measured in tens of thousands
of years, giant ice flows, several thousand feet thick, blanketed Michigan and
shaped its landscape. Between lobes of ice, meltwater deposited glacial debris
and formed interlobate regions characterized by high gravel hills and outwash
plains. The so-called Jackson interlobate extends along the axis of Michigan's
thumb and is the origin of ten river systems that drain both east and west. Early
accounts of the aboriginal homeland describe park-like settings of grasses, wildflowers,
and scattered trees known as oak openings. The large number of parks and park
systems in the Jackson interlobate region attest to the value placed on its variable
topography and the unique natural communities found there. Ecologists today consider
the prairies and savannas once common in southern Michigan among the most endangered
ecosystems on earth.
Near the region's southern extent are the headwaters of
the River Raisin, renowned for their varied and high quality ecosystems and home
to the amorphous Irish Hills area. Although modest on a scale of the world's
great wonders, the Irish Hills have long courted human habitation and are treasured
for the unique character they add to the midwestern landscape. Of particular
note are the prominent hills and knobs that punctuate the area's terrain and
history.
Early accounts of Prospect Hill, located in Woodstock Township, tell
of Native American encampments there. Other accounts describe a picturesque grove
at its summit frequented by picnic parties. The hill's celebrity was such that
on July 4, 1846, long before transportation could be taken for granted, a grand
community celebration at the remote hilltop drew celebrants from Tecumseh and
Adrian and inspired the erection of a rustic observation tower to enhance the
view.
Cedar Hill, high above the shoreline of Wamplers Lake, was another local
landmark and viewing destination. In the early 1900s it served as a local park
associated with the city of Adrian. In 1920, Michigan's embryonic State Park
system adopted Cedar Hill and its adjacent shoreline to form a state park bearing
that name. It would later be renamed Walter J. Hayes State Park and provide respite
to thousands of patrons from the greater Detroit and Toledo areas.
In 1924, with
the growing popularity of the automobile and the anticipated paving of the Chicago
Road, an observation tower was built on Bundy Hill, west of Somerset, on perhaps
the highest point in Southern Michigan. The similar Irish Hills Towers were soon
erected on Brighton Hill in Cambridge Township. On one Sunday in July of 1926,
fueled by regular bus service between Detroit and Chicago, some 2,320 patrons
reportedly visited the Original Irish Hills Observatory complex. Auto tourism
would dominate the Irish Hills economy for decades to come.
As with the automobile
itself, the Irish Hills reached a zenith in the 1950s. However, the opening of
I-94 in the early 1960's diverted considerable traffic from US-12. Also about
this time, tourism began a qualitative change. Reaching ones destination became
more important than taking in the sights. The fast food stop supplanted the more
leisurely roadside picnic. Tourism in Irish Hills trended downward.
Like many
places in Michigan today, the Irish Hills struggles to adapt its identity to
changing tastes, shifting demographics and unforgiving economics. The same glacial
kames that once inspired settlers and continue to enchant visitors are no less
valued for their mineral resources. Bundy and other hills have been mined off
the map and similar fates threaten other gravel moraines. At a 1926 occasion
marking the Chicago Roads 100th anniversary and celebrating its newly completed
paving, it was claimed that construction material used in the project would fill
a train 144 miles long. The implications of progress become real when it asks
our hills in return.
In an era measured in hours it is sometimes difficult to
find time for the natural beauty and solitude that once inspired us to seek great
heights. What ever its malaise, the Irish Hills' core identity can still be found
in its far-distant views and ten thousand year perspective. With this sense of
place, we can appreciate the swaying prairie grasses, colorful wildflowers and
stately oaks that once adorned its slopes and assuaged the hearts of homesick
Irish settlers. Only then will we be equipped to steward the native ecosystems,
incomparable beauty and mythic heritage entrusted to us.
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