Oh the stories this island could tell...

What a day!  Mackinaw (or Mackinac the French version...thank you Gail) Island was more than I expected and must be revisited on a future road trip, but let us start at the beginning.


Geographically, Mackinaw Island is very close to where Lake Michigan becomes Lake Huron under the Mackinaw Bridge, where lower Michigan is separated from the upper peninsula (UP) of Michigan...

Just above Cheboygan we'll say.

Around 1634, the "first" white guy stepped foot on it, and you know what happens when that goes down.  The story goes, according to our island buggy tour guide, an Indian tribe (that did not live on the island) sold it to the French (unbeknownst to the other Indian tribes that were living on it).  In 1780, Fort Mackinac was built on it after it was acquired by the British.  Then for awhile it went back and forth between the US and British until we ended up with it by treaty...blah, blah, blah-blah, blah...

Fort Mackinac sits up on a bluff, like all good forts.
Who wants to look up at their enemy when being attacked?

One last attempt at intellectualizing my bloggin' bubbas...and this was right off the internet, so you know it is factual...In 1822 Fort Mackinac's post surgeon saved the life of man after an accidental shotgun blast tore a hole in the young voyageur's stomach. When the hole never completely healed, the physician observed first hand what happens when food is digested in the stomach. His published experiments made medical history.  Now that's cool.


At some point in time (I'll spare you the details), the rich began building huge summer bungalows and The Grand Hotel among other places of interest (to some).

The Grand Hotel is the long white blur under the flag, as seen from
our ferry (I said leave it alone).

A little closer view.

And even closer.

And we're there.  You have to pay just to walk on the grounds.
Rooms start at around $250 per person per night...yeah, right!

If you were staying at The Grand Hotel, you were transported by
a more upscale horse and enclosed carriage driven by
a well dressed man, and their horses shit didn't stink,
if you know what I mean.

Next to the hotel were some modest summer cottages owned by some of the more wealthy business families of the time, many of these are still in the same family today.

Today, only a handful of people inhabit the island all year long, due to the harsh winters.  The lake freezes over and cars are able to drive across to the island.  And that brings me to our trip to the island today.  We boarded one of the many ferries (shush!) and enjoyed the short ride. 

There are no vehicles allowed on the island (except for some emergency vehicles), but there are a butt load of bicycles.  Since we had ours with us, we took them along for the ride (so to speak).  After the ferry gave us a good ride (stop it!), we disembarked and road to meet Miki's sister (Gail), her husband (Rik), her mom and dad.

The main drag in town.  Shops and shops, and more shops...
14 of which were fudge shops.

Since there are no motor vehicles, there are bicycles
and then there are horse drawn vehicles.

Pictured above:  Your Bloggin' Master, Gail, and Rik

Catching up on the porch of their B & B.

After getting our ducks in a row, we headed off to tour a small portion of the island by horse drawn carriage.  At this point I would tell you all about our horse drawn buggy tour guide extraordinaire, but I believe  as a safety mechanism to my psyche, I have blanked him out.  He, I'm sure, has done this for so long, it was as if he didn't hear himself and how corny his dried up old stories and jokes had become.  I was waiting for a snare drum roll and ding of a cymbal at the end of each attempt to grow his tip by "entertaining" us for the torturous hour he held us captive.  But I have let it go, in fear that he will appear in my dreams tonight.

Our tour begins as seen from my bench seat, juxtaposed
to the business end of these two fine animals.

After a nice lunch downtown on the main drag, we saddled up our bicycles and began the 8 mile loop around the island.  It basically followed the shoreline and was a pleasant ride.

Millie and Walt showed their prowess of balance, stamina, and poise.

There was a stretch of road where people had built cairns.  sometimes you might count dozens of them, some coming out of the shallow water, 10-20 yards off shore.

Miki's favorite cairn.

My favorite cairn.

As Gail went for another lap, the rest of us assumed our positions on the front porch, where our ducks were aligned earlier that morning, for some afternoon lemonade and freshly baked snickerdoodle cookies.  We then bid the family adu, and we headed back to the mainland.  Off to Straits State Park, where our children were awaiting a well needed potty break.  By this time of day, the number of people and bicycles had increased exponentially during the day.  The main drag as we headed to the boat dock, now resembled downtown Sturgis during Rally Week...just replace the bicycles with motorcycles and you can say you've been there.


My Zen from the Road:  It seems as though no matter what you have done, how hard you have worked, weird people you have been around (the vaudeville tour guide), or whatever the stress of the day has been, there is nothing a cool drink and a warm cookie won't help make better on a warm summer day.