“Who cares what the hippie tree is, where the hell is it?” was the question I asked myself while my GPS kept telling me that I had arrived. I got out of my car to see a school and a row of parents lined up in their cars, waiting for their children to be done with class for the day.
I parked across from an administrative building and tried to follow my GPS’s walking instructions, but the Hippie Tree isn’t something that a GPS is going to be helpful with and really, it takes the mysticism out of it anyway.
As I walked and awkwardly looked back and forth from my phone to my surroundings to see if I could find any trails, a little boy approached me.
“Is this Greenspire School?”
I helplessly looked around and caught eyes with a sympathetic mom in her car watching both me and the little boy, clearly out of our element. I asked her if she could help us. She directed the little boy into the school that was indeed Greenspire School, and directed me to follow her. She would take me to the Hippie Tree.
“I don’t know how to explain exactly how to get there. I’ll just take you.”
The Hippie Tree is yet another piece of Traverse City lore that I have heard about since I moved here. I had heard that it’s a nice place to walk and hangout, that it’s where wayward youth go to drink and get high, and even that it’s a portal to hell.
To glean more info on the tree that everyone seems to have a story about I posted in a community Facebook page to get an idea of what exactly the Hippie Tree is.
The reoccurring comment seemed to be that the area was once beautiful, but had become trashed by people leaving their garbage all over the area and spray painting the trunks and branches. However, there were a few saying that the Hippie Tree is a lovely and peaceful place to visit. One even said that it was a far better attraction for him than a wine tasting room. The divide in opinions on the tree is poetic in that it mimics the tree’s roots (ha ha).
The Hippie Tree was split in half by being struck by lightning according to Northern Michigan folklore book, Ghosts And Legends Of Michigan’s West Coast by Amberrose Hammond. The two Willow tree halves have continued to grow even on their sides, and more Willows have sprouted from the halves creating a tangle of arches and branches.
The tree got it’s portal to hell reputation from an urban myth. The legend states that two little boys who were patients at the hospital discovered a missing hospital patient while walking through the tunnels. The missing patient said he had been living in the tunnels, which made the boys run away in terror. After running for a stretch of time one little boy discovered that his friend had disappeared. The hospital staff searched the tunnels for the missing boy to no avail, only to eventually find his remains where today’s Hippie Tree stands.
People who visit the site report a range of feelings. Some say that being there makes them feel uneasy, or like an evil spirit is surrounding them. Others say they feel calm and peaceful while at the tree.
The kind woman who acted as a Sherpa to my Hippie Tree journey left me once we arrived.
“You know your way back?”
I almost asked her not to leave. The thought of being at a potential portal to hell alone was…unsettling. But, she had done me the kindness of bringing me there and I couldn’t deter her from picking her child up from school.
I made sure to get pictures, and examine some of the etchings carved into the wood. I didn’t see any trash, but the wood was spray painted in bright neon colors. Despite the distaste some have towards the spray paint, I think it adds to the whimsy of the Hippie Tree. The thick, intertwined trunks and branches are climbable, and the layers of paint made the wood very smooth to the touch. I even found a more common variation of my name, Bridget, painted on one of the branches. Kind of cool.
I almost left without sitting at the tree and seeing how it made me feel. The breeze was soft, the sun was out and it was silent. I felt calm.
Is it a portal to hell? Is it haunted? Probably not. But, the more I thought about my experience the more I realize how strange it was to encounter a lost little boy on my way to a local landmark that started from a myth of a lost little boy. *Cue Twilight Zone theme song.*
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