Michigan - Day 24 - Mackinac Island

Mackinaw Mill Creek Campground
Wednesday, 24 July 2019

today's route

I planned to spend the morning on Mackinac Island, which required some advance planning.  (By the way, the island's name is spelled Mackinac while the town's name is spelled Mackinaw City; both are pronounced MACK-in-aw.  Go figure.)

Leaving the dogs for several hours is no small matter, because I didn't want Dexter to start barking when I walked away and left them in the RV, let alone later when other dogs walked by.  I did the same thing I did in Indiana when I spent the morning at the flea market and antique sale - fixed Kongs with treats and peanut butter.  I gave Lily some regular kitty treats and gave the Kongs to the dogs as I was walking out the door.  I'm guessing they stay occupied long enough that they haven't gotten anxious by the time I get back.

I was one of the first to the shuttle bus stop, which made no difference by the time it got there because there were so many people wanting to go.  The shuttle runs each hour beginning at 8:30, and it was so full there were quite a few people standing up for the drive.  The driver on the return trip told me there'd been 104 on the 10:30 shuttle.  I'm learning that an early start really can make a difference.

So many people were taking bicycles with them, the shuttle bus had a trailer attached just for the bikes.  Mackinac Island allows no motorized transportation, which leaves only bicycles, horses and your feet.  Thus, the ferries carry over almost as many bikes as people.  Several people, including the captain, also brought dogs and I wished mine behaved well enough to do something like that.  The ferry ticket was $23 for a round trip fare - I don't know if they even offer a one-way fare.

Several of the ferries, knowing they're mostly catering to tourists, make a detour under the Mackinac Bridge, which connects the Upper and Lower Peninsulas.  Impressive bridge from any angle.

about half the Mackinac Bridge

lighthouse at Round Island

On the far right of that Round Island photo is a sailboat motoring out of the harbor.  Going and coming we saw dozens doing the same thing.  What was odd to me is that they all motored out a really long way - maybe they didn't want to try sailing under that bridge?

view of Mackinac Island to the right of the ferry dock

On the island I saw a huge bicycle-renting place right on the ferry dock with this sign (left) showing "the only highway in America where no cars are allowed"

There were also many many taxis (horse-drawn, of course) and carriage tours, and a place that allowed folks to rent their own horses or carriages.  Free enterprise is alive and well on Mackinac Island.  What isn't there is any industry, in the usual sense.

There are a number of fudge-making shops, something Mackinac Island is known for.  My law school friend Phil, who grew up in Michigan, had told me about working in one of these fudge places as a summer job, but I couldn't remember the name of it.  Since Phil's about my age, that narrowed it down to the few that were operating back then, and I tried 2 of them.

Murdick's Fudge, since 1887

Joann's Fudge, since 1967

Inside, both shops were much the same.  Both had marble tables on the right side where at times, though not when I was there, workers would make the fudge.  Both had counters on the left side, like at an ice cream parlor, with various flavors of fudge displayed in pound-cake-like loaves.

I bought a slice of double dark chocolate fudge from each shop, not because I'm wildly crazy about fudge but so I could see if there was much difference.  Turns out there was a huge difference, that even I could discern.  The Murdick's fudge was hands-down the better of the 2, though I couldn't tell you exactly what made it so much better.  It had a fuller, deeper flavor than Joann's and wasn't quite as sugary.  Maybe that's all it was, but it was noticeable.

outside the box

(l) Joann's; (r) Murdick's

The woman at the counter in  Joann's spoke English with a strong accent that I couldn't place.  I'd heard other folks who either lived there or were summer workers who spoke a language I'd never heard and have no idea what it was.  I would have asked the woman in Joann's, but another customer came in and I didn't want to wait just for that.

Besides the fudge, the other thing I wanted to see was the Grand Hotel, made famous (to me, anyway) in the movie Somewhere In Time.  It was only a shortish walk (uphill) out of the main part of town, so I went.  But didn't get to see the view I'd wanted because "exclusive" scarcely begins to describe this place.

There's a sign near the driveway entrance that describes their dress code: men must wear a coat and tie after 8:00 PM; women may not wear slacks.  (I haven't been told I had to wear a dress since I went to a small Methodist college in the late '60s.)  There was another sign that said there's a $10 charge to go inside the hotel, so I'd decided a walk outside would be just fine.  Imagine my surprise when I was stopped before I'd even gotten near the building, by a very polite young man wearing an elaborate uniform, who asked if I were coming to register.  When I said I just wanted to walk around the outside a bit, he said that would cost me $10, just for a stroll on the grounds.  Absolutely not worth it in my book so back I went, taking nothing but photos, leaving not even my footprints (it was paved).

UN & NATO start

longest, largest, most

side and rear of Grand Hotel

Little Stone Church, c. 1904

church parsonage

The church (left) is very near the hotel and is open only during the summer.  Some nice stained glass windows and a small chapel.

The parsonage (right) isn't far down the street towards town.  An example of some of the local architecture.

The entire town smells like horse manure.  It was the first impression I had, before I even got off the ferry, and it stayed with me the whole time I was there.  Not too surprising, when you see the number of horses they have in a small area, but they keep the streets well cleared - maybe they just need to hose them off several times a day.  Still, I thought it detracted from the ambiance, though was maybe typical for late 19th/early 20th century living.

It was still early enough in the day that I saw quite a few locals out doing errands or making deliveries for their jobs.  But mostly I saw tourists like me.  One young man was wearing a t-shirt from Bristol Bay (Alaska) and I stopped him to ask if that's where he was from.  When he said no, I told him I used to fish out there, and he and his father said that's what they'd gone out there for.  I'm guessing, though, that they were there for sport fishing, not commercial fishing, because the father said, "It's so beautiful out there."  I went out there for 8 seasons and I never once attached even the word "pretty" to the landscape there.  But the sport fishermen go up the rivers farther into the interior, where it probably is quite pretty, while the commercial fishery is off the coast out in Bristol Bay itself, where the land that's visible is stark.

front of the Grand Hotel

view to the left of the ferry dock

the rooster tail

There were white caps on the water, which I think are the Mackinac Straits, between Lakes Huron and Michigan.  Rough water meant a rougher passage than the previous one, and this particular ferry was one of the fast ones, with advertising that says: "High Tail It" to the island.

As we were coming in to the dock, we could see the mass of people waiting to board the next ferry - and it was indeed a mass.  There must have been hundreds still waiting, even after the ferry had filled and left the dock.  Glad I went early.  What a mob scene they must have dumped on the island.

Back in the campground, the critters were delighted to see me, and I took the dogs out for a quick walk before lunch, then spent the afternoon, in between walks, figuring out where we were going next and how we were going to get there, and working on the blog.

This campground is mostly heavily wooded and has a number of campsites that run along a narrow beach along Lake Huron.  Though we were somewhat buried in the campground, there weren't that many dogs near us and we were able to get out to open areas fairly easily for walking, especially at the safe times of the day (very early, 10ish, 3ish, and 6:15).  By the end of this trip in 3 years or so, if I haven't wrung the dogs' necks, we'll all have figured this situation out.