The fall landscape in East Michigan was about as picturesque as it is in Eugene, but not in a mountain valley kind of way like in Western Oregon. It was completely flat almost everywhere I looked and every single tree I noticed carried the classic fall hues. 

Ann Arbor proved the perfect example of this. 

While I traveled East to cover the No. 1 Ducks, this past weekend became much more than the eight hours I spent in Michigan Stadium — better known as the Big House — on Saturday. 

As I walked around the incredible college town that Ann Arbor is, the prevailing feeling of the Michigan fan base was defeat. 

“I sold my ticket” became the motto of those I spoke to on Friday night, as the best team in the nation came to town, but that dampened nobody’s spirits. Everywhere I went, there was music bumping and people enjoying the weekend. When I say everywhere, I mean it — I walked for about three miles or so that night, for reference. 

The “college” portion of AA stretched on and on for miles with each house bearing its own character and some sort of Halloween decoration. I passed by multiple large, white tents packed to the brim with people and shaking from the massive speakers blaring fraternity classics within. 

Festivities didn’t end that night, apparently. When I woke up Saturday morning, the whole town was awake with me and ready for the game. I walked along the outskirts of campus and everywhere I looked, tents and flags passionately demonstrated the historic maize and blue colors every football fan knows all too well. The tailgate scene appeared as if it had been there for years. 

It may as well have been, as Michigan’s football team formed just a decade after the first college football game was played and the Wolverines became founding members of what became the Big Ten conference. Michigan self-proclaims itself as the “Champions of the West”, as for many of the program’s 19 national titles (fifth-most in history), it was one of the westernmost points that the sport stretched. 

Michigan has been named the Big Ten champion a record 45 times in its history, so this game carried a little more importance for the newcomers in Oregon. That’s also because the most recent — both the 45th conference and 19th national — championships came just last season. 

As I cowered below the monstrous M behind the scoreboard, I noticed it carried a new, smaller banner just below, one which reminded everyone that, no matter the Wolverine’s current standing, they will still continue to try and defend their national title. 

The Big House itself, up there for the most famous college football stadiums, lives up to its name. It’s truly of the pantheons of college football lore, and the massive brick bowl took me by surprise, as its architecture makes for that. 

Michigan’s 107,000 seat behemoth sits dug into the ground, so the highest points of the stadium sit right at eye level upon walking up towards it. The cavernous grounds sat empty upon my arrival, and as I walked down the 72 rows in the middle sections, I could feel the history within those walls. 

The chipped and faded blue paint on each bleacher reminded me of a dugout bench at an old park and the ghosts of what once happened on that field spoke to me — this was a special place to be. 

Watching over 100 thousand people stream into their seats overwhelmed me slightly, but before I knew it, the game was rolling and the Big House quaked with noise. Those same feelings of defeat I encountered just the night before left as soon as kickoff happened, especially in the few moments the Wolverines drew their fans in. 

Oregon waddled into Ann Arbor and took care of business, with what I assume was less appreciation for the city that I had. 38-17 was the final, and it never appeared that Michigan had it in them to compete with the buzzsaw Oregon has been this season. 

But the game itself was never what was going to make this trip special. It’s a moment like I had just after finishing postgame media with the Ducks. 

As we exited the press room attached to the team’s locker room, me and all the other journalists seemed to conjure the same thought — “We’re in the tunnel.” 

I’m not talking about just any tunnel in the stadium, I’m talking about the one everyone’s seen. The one right in the middle of the field, where, for countless years, the Wolverines have come streaming out of their locker room to famously jump up and touch the M-Club’s banner. 

In unison, we all slowly made our way down the cavernous, echoing tunnel and onto the field, which was something we hadn’t done yet. 

Only then did I realize what I was looking at. 

The Big House is incredibly tall — something which the architecture doesn’t do adequate justice to. So tall that all of the bleachers, enough for 107,000 people, blended into one mass that makes up the blue magic that lines the interior of this brick palace. 

One important thing I’ve realized during my time covering sports in Oregon is that the Ducks are a recent phenomenon — at least relative to a school like Michigan. That feeling provides a sense of innovation and freshness to the school’s sports programs. 

However, traveling to one of college football’s various Mecca-like sites proved just as amazing, just in different ways. 

This weekend, I made sure I took everything I could in, especially the thoughtful comments that any generous Michigan would provide to help with my understanding of everything Wolverines. Ann Arbor remains a paradise for any college football fan, even if the team may not always play up to its usual standard. 

I will be back.