Fat Man's Misery

When Ross and I went up to Wisconsin to visit Grandad one summer, we were there for a pretty long time. Grandad thought up several things to do to keep us busy and interested so we wouldn't find too much trouble to get into. When he announced that we were going to a place called the Wisconsin Dells where we would take a boat tour, it sounded supremely boring to my young mind, not to mention the two and a half hour car ride to get there from Racine.
Under protest, we went along (with Grandad, you always went along in the end) and endured the long summer drive to the Wisconsin Dells. There was much talk about glaciers on the way there. Moraines, and hogback ridges, and how the geography of Wisconsin changes abruptly along the line of the furthest reach of the glaciers in the last ice age were topics of conversation. Or at least topics of monologue. In fairness, monologue leading to speculation, questions, conversation.
When we arrived, the place seemed rather touristy and gaudy, in the cigar store Indian vein, which was marginally fun, in a carnival kind of way, but didn't seem a good omen for our boat tour. When we got in the boat, it seemed slightly more interesting and kid fun, and we began to think that this outing would be at least tolerable. The weather was pleasant and we started to see some really remarkable rock formations. We saw colorful curved rock formations (formed by glacial action) and swallows nesting on rock overhangs. The trip was turning out to be quite enjoyable and fascinating. After a tour by water, the walking part of our day began.
We walked along wooden walkways, with beautiful curved sandstone walls towering above. Sometimes we'd bake in the hot summer sun, and other times rock walls would shade us from the sun and cool humid air would drift from wet sandstone, with water trickling down the rock faces. A stream was rushing by one walkway, and a waterfall sprayed us with mist. We laughed at the touristy names like Witch's Gulch, Witch's Bathtub and Cold Water Canyon. We were surprised and amazed at how cool this place was.
We were appalled to learn that a dam had been built in the early twentieth century, covering over what people had said were even more amazing rock formations. In a store or visitor's center we saw early photos and sketches of some of these sites, like Boat Cave and Bass Cave. We thought maybe we could get some scuba diving equipment and look at them all underwater, or cover one of the amphibious boats and make it into a submarine. We'd heard of glass bottomed boats in Florida, and wondered if the water was clear enough to see anything that way. We were enthusiastic converts to the wonders of the Wisconsin Dells. We imagined blowing up Kilbourn Dam so everyone would be able to see these sites again.
One of the highlights of the Wisconsin Dells trip was running ahead of Grandad to see a spot in the path labeled "Fat Man's Misery." We laughed and went ahead a ways and waited for Grandad to catch up, watching him slowly progress toward the narrowest part of the path. When he was near the spot, we saw him glance up at the "Fat Man's Misery" sign and chuckle. He had to turn sideways and inch his way through the small gap. He chuckled again as his ample belly squeezed through. We didn't say anything and we tried not to laugh.
I happened to see some H. H. Bennett Stereo Views for sale on an auction site recently. Some were of the Wisconsin Dells, which reminded me of this trip. I thought of Grandad chuckling as he squeezed through the "Fat Man's Misery" and found this old postcard for sale on another site and bought it.
The back of the card reads: Through much of COLD WATER CANYON the rock walls are very high, and the passage between them vary narrow. The narrowest point is called Fat Man's Misery.