Our Great Lakes Adventure: Days 1-5

In July, Craig, Zach, and I spent fourteen days traveling through the Great Lakes region. Until the past year or so, I'd never paid much attention to that part of the country. Our travels have always taken us west to visit family, or to the beach. The idea for this trip came about as the result of a number of somewhat unrelated events :

1. Dad's passing away in 2007 led to my eventual correspondence, via letter and email, with a cousin of his, Virginia, who lives in Waterford, Michigan, just north of Detroit. Virginia is a delightful person. She graciously took the initiative to begin sending me photos and notes about our familial history, and share about about her own life and family. The more I heard from Virginia, the more I wanted to meet her.

2. Last fall, while on a canoe outing, a friend who also has a 16-year-old son, told me about a trip that she, her husband, and their son took last summer to New York. The experience had made a deep impression on their son. He loved New York, and returned to school with new vision and motivation. I wanted Zach to have that kind of experience--to realize what a big world there is beyond Birmingham and the school he currently goes to. The School of the Art Institute of Chicago came to mind.

3. For many years I've hoped to visit a dear family friend who is like a sister to me: Janet Soofi. Janet and her husband, Ehsan, live just north of Milwaukee, Wisconsin.

4. Some people we met this winter suggested that if we visit Michigan, we should travel through the northern part of the state to see the natural beauty of that region.

So, in the course of many hours of research and preparation--I put together a trip itinerary for what I am calling our "Great Lakes Adventure."

On July 17, Craig, Zach, and I boarded a plane for Detroit. At the Detroit airport we rented a car and began a journey that would take us first to Waterford. We spent two delightful days with Virginia, who treated us to a special seafood meal on our first night there and introduced us to her sisters Wilma and Miriam, and her daughter Nancy. Unfortunately, I failed to get my camera out during our stay with Virginia. I think I was in a state of shock that we were actually on the road, after months of planning and preparations.


Here is my dad with Virginia (second from left) and her sisters Miriam, Wilma, and Gladys, taken around 1940. Dad has that "fox in a henhouse" look, if you ask me.

We then headed north to St. Ignace [pronounced IG-nus], a small town at the north end of the MacKinac Bridge [pronounced MAK-in-naw] . We checked in at the Colonial House Inn, where we would spend two nights. As we made our way from the check-in desk to our room, I was struck by the perfume of roses that lined the walkway. After settling into our room, I got out my camera to capture some of the beauty of that garden.











St. Ignace is a charming little town on the shores of Lake Huron. It has a large Native American population and an Ojibwa museum. I got up early to explore with my camera.

We had our breakfast in the garden.

After breakfast we boarded a ferry that would take us to Mackinac Island. Zach had a blast taking pictures from the ferry. I had a blast taking pictures of Zach taking pictures of himself.

MacKinac Island is a charming, beautifully manicured historical resort community. No cars allowed. Horse-and-carriage is the primary mode of transporation,

along with walking and bicycles. My kind of place.

When we got off the ferry, I asked this fellow driving the carriage if I could pet his horse. He said no. No smile, no reason offered. Just "No." I bet he's asked that question about 500 times a day.


We rambled around the main streets of the village there, taking advantage of the free samples offered by the many fudge shops for which MacKinac Island is famous.




Then we found our way up to the Grand Hotel--an elegant old resort hotel where visitors must pay a fee just to sit on the porch. Guests are required to dress for supper. A room for the three of us would have cost over $500 for a night. We were content to get this photo of Zach.


An eight-mile scenic trail circles the outer edge of MacKinac Island, making for a lovely bike ride for those who can't--or won't--pay the $22-per-person ticket for a carriage ride. We rented some bikes and headed out. Halfway around, we stopped to have lunch on the beach. Craig called his dad, who had just undergone shoulder surgery. I tossed bread crusts to the seagulls. And Zach practiced skipping stones. One never lacks for stones to skip on these Great Lakes beaches. I felt myself starting to slow down.







We then headed back to St. Ignace, where Zach took his first plunge in Lake Huron. He had been eager to take a swim in one of the Great Lakes. A recurring theme in these parts is the harsh, long winters. These waters feel like fresh snowmelt.





Leaving St. Ignace the next morning, we headed north to Sault Ste. Marie, both the Ontario side and the Michigan side, to see the locks that make it possible for boats to pass from Lake Huron to Lake Superior and vice versa--a 27-foot difference in height. Before there were locks, people would raft the rapids than transversed this steep decline between Lake Superior and Lake Huron. We got to watch a barge and some other boats enter the locks to be lifted or dropped, depending on the direction in which they were heading.

We didn't realize that US citizens must now have birth certificates to get back into the country. So, while crossing into Canada was simple enough, getting back was not. The customs officer finally let us back in to the US, with a stern warning.

From Sault Ste. Marie we drove west across Michigan's Upper Peninsula (UP) and north to Grand Marais--a tiny coastal town on Michigan's northern border on the coast of Lake Superior.

Grand Marais is located on the easternmost edge of a the 40-mile-long Pictured Rocks National Seashore. That evening, after supper in the cabin, Zach and I headed out to see if we could reach the Grand Sable (French for "Great Sands") dunes--the only part of the park accessible from Grand Marais. We had at most two hours of daylight remaining, and didn't know how far away the dunes would be. We were on foot, and knew we'd need to get back to the cabin before dark.

After walking about a mile, we met two women who told us that we were close to the dunes, and that from there we could get back to Grand Marais by descending the cliffs to the beach below, and following that back. This came as a great relief. I didn't want to return on that narrow country road in the dark.

We found the trail that led both to the dunes and to Sable Falls. The falls were grand, but I was nervous about the encroaching darkness, so we didn't stop to take photos.

We made our way through hardwood forests and open meadows of tall grass--a beautiful trek in the evening hours--and arrived at the top of a tall dune looking across a steep drop to another dune, beyond which we could not see.

Here is what we found, upon reaching the top of the next dune.

We were now at the top of a cliff that dropped very steeply to a narrow, rocky beach. If I hadn't seen footprints from people who'd been there earlier, I probably wouldn't have had the courage to descend. Fortunately the sand was soft and deep. I scooted down on my seat, while Zach followed on his feet. Note the difference in our tracks.


Upon reaching the bottom, we found ourselves on a pristine beach covered with smooth, round stones of amazing patterns and colors.


Zach and I stayed extremely busy loading rocks into every spare pocket and pouch, taking photos of the sun setting over Lake Superior, and hurrying to get back to Grand Marais before dark.

Here is a closeup of some bark on a log that was lying on the beach.

Looks almost like a pen-and-ink . . .

We made it back to the cabin just before dark.

To be continued . . .

Our Great Lakes Adventure: Days 6-8

Pictured Rocks National Seashore is 40 miles of wilderness on the shores of Lake Superior, along the northernmost coast of Michigan's Upper Peninsula. People who live in this part of Michigan call themselves "Yoopers."

Having read about its waterfalls, pristine beaches, sea otters, and hiking trails, I had hoped that we'd be able to explore this wilderness at length. Unfortunately we had only one day there, and were lodging at the wrong end of the park, so we didn't have nearly enough time to hike the trails and explore the beaches. I hope to return some day. They say that one of the best ways to see the park is to kayak along the shores, stopping to camp and hike along the way.

We did get to take a three-hour boat tour that evening--the "Sunset Cruise"--to see the colorful cliffs and rock formations from the water.



The colors created by mineral deposits in the sandstone cliffs are spectacular, especially when lit by the long rays of the setting sun. The warm hues set against the dark-emerald waters create a breathtaking palette.

The next morning, we headed south toward Wisconsin. We stopped at Palm's Book State Park to see Kitch-iti-kipi Spring (Big Spring). We had a hard time remembering this Indian name, so Craig came up with "Shi-ti-kit-i." This was much easier to remember.

The brochure about the park's history reveals that the owner made up the Indian legend for which the springs are named, in order to attract tourists. He didn't need to do this--the springs are spectacular all by themselves, and the legend is rather silly.

Visitors can propel themselves across the springs on a raft to view the waters pumping out of the limestone, 45 feet below, at 10,000-to-16,000 gallons per minute. Brown lunker trout cruise about in the crystal clear waters below.



Leaving Palms Book, we continued south to Escanaba, Michigan, where we stopped for gas and groceries, and to put our by-then-very-muddy car through a car wash. Unfortunately, while mounting the track that would take us through the wash, we lost a hub cap off our rental car. We discovered this loss 30 miles down the road, when we pulled into a lakeside rest stop to prepare some lunch. After eating, Craig headed back to Escanaba to search for the hub cap, figuring that the car rental company would charge us an outlandish fee to replace it.

While waiting for Craig to return, Zach took his first dip in the waters of Lake Michigan. I watched him from the shore, accompanied by a bag of fresh bing cherries and a shy seagull looking for some handouts. When Craig returned--hub cap safely back in place--we continued south to Door County, Wisconsin.



Door County is my new favorite place in the world. A finger of land stretching 70miles northeast from Green Bay, Wisconsin, into Lake Michigan, this peninsula is dotted with quaint towns, inns, art galleries, and orchards.




We stayed at the Little Harbor Inn--a delightful place. The hosts gave us a warm welcome and showed us around the place, offering free use of bicycles and paddleboats. Our room was spacious and elegant, with large windows looking out on the bay. Chairs are set up on the water's edge, from which you can watch the sun set and the stars come out, and enjoy a bonfire. The hosts built the present inn themselves, crafting some of the indoor woodwork from trees they harvested. We stayed just one night, and wished we could have stayed much longer.



After dinner at a nearby restaurant called--ironically--Birmingham's, Craig and I were ready to rest for the evening. Zach, however, had a different plan. He wanted to explore the area on bikes. Knowing what a sucker I am for gardens, he wooed me onto a bike by describing a charming garden he'd seen just up the road. I agreed to a short ride.

Once on the bike, I revived. We headed north along the quiet country road, passing orchards, carefully tended gardens, quaint homes, dark forests, and meadows lit by the evening sun. Invigorated by the beauty of the evening and scenery, we decided to try to make it to the next town--Egg Harbor. The only problem was, we didn't know how far away Egg Harbor actually was. Zach, meanwhile, was becoming very thirsty--having consumed a whole pizza for dinner.

After riding about four miles, we came upon a couple working in their yard. We asked if we could get some water from their hose, and they kindly filled Zach's water bottle. They also informed us that Egg Harbor was too far to reach before dark and that--in fact--we should head back to the inn, as nightfall would come earlier than we'd expected. So we headed back, and reached the inn just in time to watch the sun set over the bay.

As we were leaving the next morning, the owner drove in with their dog, "Hunni." Hunni is an adorable yellow lab. It was love at first sight.







(Please do not tell Abbie. We had to leave her in a kennel for the entire 14 days of this trip.)

We spent the morning making our way slowly up the bay side of the peninsula, stopping to explore a beach in one small berg and drop in on a yard sale. We fixed a picnic lunch next to the docks at Ellison Bay.





After reaching the tip, at Gills Rock, we headed back down the lake side, stopping to pick cherries at an orchard.

Tart cherries, ripe off the tree, are really quite delicious--no sugar needed.

We then headed south through the farm- and dairylands of Wisconsin, toward Hubertus, where we would spend the next three days with Janet and Ehsan Soofi.