The story of John Beargrease

Earlier this year, Duluth's Holy Cow! Press published a biography of the legendary John Beargrease: 

   

If the name rings a bell but you can't recall why, it's likely you've heard of the John Beargrease Sled Dog Marathon, held annually in January and covering 400 miles of rugged terrain along the North Shore, one of the longest sled dog races outside of Alaska. It's named after Beargrease, a prominent Anishinabe Indian, who helped develop and for years ran the mail route between Two Harbors and Grand Marais, back in the late 1800's. In winter, he frequently used dogsleds; in summer, he would tackle Lake Superior in a rowboat. 

In Daniel Lancaster's biography, reminiscences of Beargrease are interspersed with general historical accounts of the place and time, as well as several newspaper items. In doing so, Lancaster provides a lively tale of pioneer life of the times, as well as sometimes surprising insights into the relationships between the white settlers and the Native Americans. 

Beargrease was the son of an Anishinabe chief, and his name represented his importance. Bear grease was a valued commodity back then, as it was a versatile household tool: cooking, conditioning animal hides, hair care, lotion, protection from frostbite, even as insect repellent (when rancid or mixed with skunk-oil--if I was an insect, I'd be repelled by that).

His tenacity at running the mail route through all kinds of weather earned him praise and respect from most quarters, but that didn't mean he was guaranteed a job. Periodically over the years, someone would underbid him, then realize they couldn't do the job as efficiently as Beargrease did--sometimes rowing 24 hours straight to make his delivery deadlines. The arrival of the steamer boat Dixon, able to use the Lake in summer and increase the number of deliveries each week for the season, reduced Beargrease's employment to winter only.

Throughout the years, Beargrease married, raised a family, struggled to manage financially, and became well known as "old John" up and down the North Shore. By the time of his death in 1910, he was helping others on the mail route on an occasional basis, something he was doing on a cold spring day that nearly turned deadly. He survived that run, but contracted pneumonia, among other illnesses, which killed him that summer.

Part of the charm of Lancaster's book are the glimpses of a life long gone. Who knew that Two Harbors was, at one time, as full of sin and sinners as any Wild West town, complete with 22 saloons and dance halls? Or that the Ojibwe regarded dogs as behing halfway between the animal and spiritual worlds?

Sometimes it wasn't the weather that slowed Beargrease down, but his fondness for alcohol. He raised the ire of North Shore residents when, after a bit too much, he found himself unable to carry the full load of mail, so left a bag of newspapers hanging in a tree. Unfortunately, those newspapers were reporting on the shocking destruction of the battleship Maine in the Spanish-American War, and residents were appalled to learn this when their papers were delivered two weeks later.

Newspapers themselves were at times tart about Beargrease's service, once noting, "It has been suggested that the carriers at the west end of the route lubricate their 'wheels' with something more reliable."

As a portrait of Beargrease himself, this would be a slim book; but Lancaster's use of news accounts, diaries, and personal interviews livens the book and gives the reader an insightful look into North Shore life in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. My one quibble would be that the book itself could use a thorough proofreading; there are several typos throughout. But the story is engaging and thought-provoking. After reading it, it's completely fitting to know that each year when the Beargrease Race is run, the spot for team number one is always held by the ghost of John Beargrease.

Comments

[Miss T]

Interesting! I didn't know anything about him.

[Dominique]

This sounds like a fun read. I've been up in the Two Harbors area (in fact, we'd planned to get up that way again this summer...until unemployment reared its ugly head for one of us), so the story of the early days of that town sounds fascinating.