Read time: 8 min.

Fifty-five years ago, Joe, Hayes, and Connie Shideler purchased eighty remote acres of forest in Michigan. It was an incredible gift that ensured my family has our own home away from home to hunt, shoot, hike, explore, and camp. As part of the third generation, I’ve been going there since before I was even born- I was kicking around inside while my mom and dad built a new fireplace there! The property is my favorite place in the world.

The land that later became our property was sold by the United States Government to Albert and Mary VanGorder on September 15, 1883, under the Homestead Act. A succession of people owned the property until 1941 when Everett Fifield -a purported nudist- acquired it. Ten years later, the Fifields signed a two-year oil and gas lease agreement with Sun Oil Company, then sold the land to Joseph and Katherine Brata in 1956.

The lease agreement with Sunoco proved an ironic coincidence that stalled the sale to my family since Joe Shideler worked for the company and the Bratas were concerned that he had inside information about oil and gas underground. The sale eventually went through, though, and Shidelers have owned the property ever since. Thanks to my dad, we even have the sign to prove it!

The place has gone by many names over the years, but I call it “the property.” The land consists of hardwoods, row-planted pines, prairie, an aspen swamp, a shooting range, and our campsite. We have two small cabins there- one for cooking and one for sleeping. There’s an outhouse and a shed, but no running water, electricity, or consistent cell service. Glamping it is not, and I love it.

The property’s always been a stable refuge from whatever’s going on in my life, but it’s a dynamic place with ever-changing flora and fauna. Other things have evolved, too, over the years: the cabins were built in 1971. An old sugar camp disintegrated into the forest, our old shooting range eroded away, and our new shooting range became overtaken by ferns. The changes have been tracked in a series of logbooks inside the cookhouse that we add to whenever we go. The front page of the oldest leads off with some words of wisdom from Uncle Joe, my grandpa’s older brother:

Suggestions for safe fun up north

1. Target shooting at the shooting range only.
2. All non-shooters behind shooters.
3. Al cigars + cig. butts should be put out in water or under ground, or in the fireplace.
4. All trash + garbage should be put in sacks + boxes then taken to the twsp. dump on the way home.
5. No loaded firearms should be taken into the trailer or cabin at any time.
6. No firearms should be used during or after the cocktail hr. (Redheaded Ridge Runners excepted.)

This is the point where I should define “Redheaded Ridge Runner.” Actually, I’ll let my grandma do it, from part of a log entry she wrote on May 20, 1967:

“…also on this weekend, we caught a Red Headed Ridge Runner + two buddies about to loot the storeroom. H.H.S. fired 3 warning shots, we have not seen them since. (KH 6568 on a red covert. – Chev or Ford).”

H.H.S. means Howard Hayes Shideler, my grandpa, and one of the siblings who purchased the property with Uncle Joe and Aunt Connie. Back then, there was a small farm about six-hundred feet northeast of where we camp today. The farm was accessed by a dirt road that didn’t lead anywhere and wasn’t maintained by the county highway department. In those days, Rhoby Road was the perfect route for rogues and knaves to loot the place! They did in great numbers.

Despite the efficacy of a warning shot or three, we soon learned not to keep anything valuable at the property. I’ve only encountered four unexpected intruders in thirty-two years of staying there, and two were bears! Nevertheless, we maintain a carry-in/carry-out policy so nothing gets taken. Unfortunately, that’s not always enough to deter thieves. I once arrived in the wee hours to see that the front door to the bunkhouse had been stolen, brass doorknob and all!

Let’s return back to the rest of Uncle Joe’s suggestions for safe fun up north.

7. Old boards with nails should be piled up for burning at a later date (nails down).
8. Any camp fire should be put out with water each night or when leaving camp.
9. Relight pilot on cooking stove at each visit.
10. Shut off main gas valve at tank before leaving tank.
11. Oil heater- tanks is built in rear of heater. Fuel oil is under rear of trailer. Turn to “high”, drop match in pot to light, repeat if necessary till fire visible. When lit – turn to “low” at once. Turn to “off 30 minutes before leaving, as oil fire goes out slowly.

Three generations of Shidelers have (mostly) followed Uncle Joe’s suggestions to maximize our enjoyment of the property. Aside from shooting and exploring, one of my favorite things is re-reading the old log books. Although just being up there replenishes my sense of connection with my family, reading long-ago entries from people no longer with us solidifies it.

My Grandma Marlene was the first of the original generation to pass away. She died in 1997, and Grandpa Hayes followed five years later. Uncle Joe passed in 2008, and Aunt Betty, his wife, joined him in 2013. Aside from my dad’s death in 2011, the loss that hit me the hardest was of my Aunt Connie, who died two years ago. Everyone should have an Aunt Connie.

In 2018, eight of us celebrated fifty years of property ownership at our first annual Shideler Family Acres Men’s Weekend. It was late in April, but snow remained on the ground. We saw lots of beaver activity in state land abutting the property, along with a pair of sandhill cranes which performed a stunning flyby the next morning. We ate steaks, hiked, shot, and received commemorative Challenge Coins. It was a weekend I’ll never forget!

My brother and I invited our mom, stepdad, and their bernedoodle Eliza to last weekend’s trip. It was Mom’s third trip back since my parents divorced, and it’s been really fun to see her name back in the logbook after a thirty-year absence. Despite the heat, we hiked, grilled over the campfire, and just enjoyed being up at the property. I’m happy to report that the trip was free of intruders, Redheaded Ridge Runners, and bears alike. I’m sad to say that I left my trust Mosin-Nagant at home, but we shot the Girsan Hi-Power, the P320, the Rock Island M1911, the Uberti 1871 Open Top, the Type 56 SKS, the AK-47, and the Mossberg 590 Retrograde 120-gauge.

Nothing fancy.

Uncle Joe’s suggestions for safe fun up north don’t stop at the practicalities of not burning the place down, inadvertently suffocating yourself in the cookhouse, or accidentally shooting someone in the pancreas with a .30-06: they’re contingent on having a place to have safe fun up north in the first place! Joe, Hayes, and Connie instilled a deep love for our far-away plot in my dad’s generation that has carried down to mine, so that’s been no problem.

Our hubristic misadventures, of which there have been plenty, have always been based on a foundation of respecting the land, preserving it, and leaving it in better shape than when we arrived. As my family nears sixty years of ownership, I’m excited for a fourth generation to discover everything the property has to offer. I hope it means the same to them.