The jury will have to remain out on the charm of Charlevoix, as we haven’t spent enough time here to make any kind of real assessment. One thing that is abundantly apparent is why the wealthy with giant yachts love the place: there are covered yacht parking spots with beautiful penthouses built right above them.
We needed about an hour to get back up to St. Ignace, arriving 10 minutes before the next ferry was departing for Mackinac Island. The rideover is fast and smooth as Lake Huron is glassy calm. Skies are slightly overcast, with a little blue seen here and there.
The island isn’t packed yet. We are still early on this Tuesday, a day before the season really kicks off tomorrow. Just why Wednesday, July 13, holds special status for the day when the crowds become truly heavy is missed by me. Having arrived so early, I feel like we’re gaining a good sense of what the island might be like at daybreak or after visitors leave in the evening, and the place is all yours. With so few people here right now, we head over to the horse-drawn carriage tour before long lines start to form.
No motor-powered vehicles are allowed on the island, with the exceptions of a police car, an ambulance, a fire truck, and golf carts which are not allowed off the golf course. Bicycles, horses, and feet are the methods of transport on Mackinac. Our two horses pulling this 5,000 pounds of cart, driver, and 16 passengers are Clydesdales. Beautiful horses until they pass wind. With the exertion of pulling so much weight uphill, the gas billows out, and this isn’t just based on observations of our two horses. Later, when we took the Boeing 747 of horse carriages, a 40-passenger 3-horse wagon, it became obvious to us that a diet heavy in alfalfa and heavy uphill exercise alleviates bloating problems.
Very quickly, we learn of the downside to visiting this island, prices are on the high side. $18 each for roundtrip passage to the island. $18 apiece for the horse tour. $5 each for viewing the butterfly exhibit. To visit the fort is another $9.50, renting a bicycle is about $6 an hour, and to walk on the veranda of the old stately hotel is $10. All of a sudden, this is more expensive than Disneyland, and we haven’t bought a bite to eat or picked up souvenirs, fudge, postcards, or a cold drink.
Well, seeing that I’m such a penny-pinching bastard regarding lodging, I guess I can give in and live it up, as though all this traveling wasn’t the epitome of living it up anyway. The butterfly sanctuary here is beautiful, if not a bit crowded, by the time we got here. I can’t imagine what the coming weekend might be like if their official season doesn’t actually kick off until tomorrow.
Unlike the bears of Yellowstone, where they want visitors to avoid coming into contact with those man-eating beasts, there were no warnings regarding the butterflies. As they landed on me, I hope this proves once and for all to my wife back home that it’s true I am made of sugar.
What is this giant hole, you ask? The representation of the one in my heart because Caroline is not here right now.
The real answer is that Arch Rock was formed back when Lake Superior, Lake Huron, and Lake Michigan were one giant lake system called Nipissing Great Lakes. That lake system was created about 7,500 years ago when retreating glaciers and their melting ice pooled at a level high enough to carve this arch out of the limestone.
This is on the other side of the hole, looking out at Lake Huron. Time for lunch.
We ate at the Oyster Bar and Pub with mom and I having the open-faced white fish sandwich grilled with a lemon caper marinade – yummy. Mom also had the raw oysters, which I abstained from as my previous tastings haven’t brought me into the oyster world (yet). There are more fudge shops than you can shake a stick at, including one where President Ford bought fudge – okay, I guess. Three hours of visiting proves to be enough of Mackinac Island; we will take Harbor Springs any day over Mackinac.
Back in a steaming hot car. I should mention that Arizona weather seems to have followed us on this trip. In Kansas, we were seeing 98-degree temperatures; in Minnesota, it was 94, and today, in northern Michigan, it’s 93 with 85% humidity.
Into Canada via Sault Ste. Marie in the province of Ontario. I’m traveling with trepidation while I have my I.D. and a copy of my birth certificate, and mom has her passport; passing back into the United States these days is a daring gamble that will, at the least, infuriate most travelers. Getting into Canada went smoothly; god help us when we want to leave.
Surprise, surprise, the south of this corner of Canada looks a lot like northern Wisconsin or Michigan. I was expecting bells and whistles, or at least Mounties and Inuit. Being ahead of schedule, we are now chopping up the itinerary as it was written and are in full improvisation mode. In Espanola, we turn south, and before getting to the destination that was originally considered for our overnight, a sign on the side of the road entices Mom with a pan-fried perch. A couple of miles down a dirt road, we pull up to the Lang Lake Resort.
While we are here for the perch, I ask about a room; they have a cabin available. I ask about air conditioning; I’m told to open windows and that there’s a small fan. About to leave, he asks if I want to see it. I waffle about my mom needing A/C as a cranky mom is well, known as Karen. Okay, we will at least take a look. Our car follows his car up the gravel road, down the gravel road, through the potholes, not far but far enough for me to start complaining to Mom that this isn’t where we should stay. A moment later he pulls up to a cabin right on the water’s edge here at Lang Lake. He directs our attention to our own private dock.
He opens the cabin that is hot, but it’s a great little place. The view is great. The amenities are great. What about dinner? Sure, how about 8:00? We will take it. Till then, we mosey down to the dock and kick off our shoes to dip our toes into the warm water that feels a bit chilly to us. After only a few seconds, the water feels great. The sun is getting lower in the sky, and the cliffs are beginning to glow red.
Mom has a half glass of wine before we walk over to the restaurant for dinner and to check-in. Dinner is on an outdoor deck overlooking the lake just below us. Strangely, not a mosquito is zipping about. A Russian family operates the resort and the restaurant; the owner’s son is our waiter tonight.
If you are starting to think this is an eating marathon, well, eating was a primary motivator for this trip. Pizza in Buffalo, New York specifically was the draw, more about that as we reach Buffalo.
The appetizer is homemade pierogi with sour cream, outstanding. Our main course is Perch, but we have asked to substitute the fries with potato latkes, and again, outstanding. For dessert, we are both having homemade crepes stuffed with cottage cheese topped with strawberries for Mom and chocolate and caramel for mine. We pay the bill, pay for the room, tip our waiter, and within minutes, are sitting on the dock again with feet dangling in the water.
The gods of the mosquito swarm have unleashed the vermin after offering a dinner respite that was appreciated. For their kindness of sparing us earlier, I allowed two particularly thin specimens an extra moment of engorgement before running for the safety of the screened porch.
At midnight, it’s still hot in the cabin. I took a shower in the hopes of cooling off. I only turned on the cold water, which was a BIG MISTAKE. The water only flowed out of the pipes due to the crazy pressure behind it otherwise, this might have been a snowmaking machine. My head was burning from the cold, but I was cooler, even if only for a minute or two.
Tomorrow, we continue across southern Canada, enjoying the kilometer signs, bilingual English/French traffic signage, the occasional Celsius reading, and gas priced in Canadian dollars per liter. Oh, and breakfast reservations on the deck over Lang Lake are set for 8:00 a.m. Today is the worst for missing Caroline. No phones out here and no cellular coverage mean no goodnight call, meaning more missing her.
