Travel, Poetry, and Some Secrets of the “Most Beautiful” Places

Surely you’ve all heard by now—“Good Morning America” found Sleeping Bear National Lakeshore to be the most beautiful place in the United States. We had some stiff competition, so it's pretty big county news. What’s really funny are the different local responses to the news from residents and visitors, old and new, fulltime and parttime. Some, rubbing their hands together, eagerly anticipate a boom, while others shudder in dread of the same. Are big changes in the wind? Will Cape Cod, the Grand Tetons and Hawaii’s golden beaches be deserted for the glories of northern Michigan? Somehow I doubt it. The shelf life of a morning news segment is briefer than anyone imagines.

Meanwhile, here on Waukazoo Street, the bad news or the good news--depending on your point of view--is that the TV crew did not get up to Northport at all. (It's going to take a lot to spoil us!) Even star community booster Mario Batali, when touting area restaurants, doesn't spill all the beans in his poke. For instance, did he tell the world that he brought another visiting celebrity to dinner one night at the Garage Bar and Grill in Northport and that the two of them were back the next day for lunch with Mario's wife? No, he did not. We here at the northernmost end of Leelanau County still have some--er, oops! Cat out of bag! Sorry, Bruce and George!


Really? Honestly? I can think of countless beautiful places in Michigan that tourists from New York and California, let alone other parts of the world, never see. They don’t even suspect the existence of these secret gems hidden away in plain sight but perhaps without a lot of signs pointing the way. My friend Laurie and I spoke of this years ago, lying in the sun on the dock at Charley and Mary’s lake—which is what we always called it, and I’ll say no more about where in the state it is to be found. Unsung treasures! I’m sure that what is true of Michigan is true of every state and every country in the world. It’s been true of every place I’ve ever visited, at least.

Then there was this summer story:

“Stranded in Northport”

A woman not interested in art or books—although, in fairness, maybe she would have been some other time—spent a quarter of an hour in my bookstore on her cell phone, discussing with someone on the other end the calamity of being “stranded in Northport” due to boat engine troubles. When she got off the phone and relayed the latest news to her husband, he said cheerfully, “So maybe I should get two books then!” Her reply: “That’s not funny.” I thought it was. I thought it showed true vacation spirit.


How many people slaving away at jobs in unappealing places would love to be “stranded in Northport” on vacation? A man from Wisconsin got a big laugh at Barb’s Bakery one morning a few years back when he declared Northport “the holy grail” of destinations. But then, he had to make the trip on his sailboat through “Death’s Door” to get out of his Wisconsin port and arrive here safely.

Follow the crowd or take the road less traveled? It can still make all the difference. What’s your take?

Winter Wednesday Postcard Promenade #3: Up the West Coast of Michigan

It's that time of the week again, Wednesday, and time for more of my old postcards. Today we begin down in southwest Michigan, in St. Joseph, and will tour north along the Lake Michigan shore. Hey, you guys! Turn those cars around and head north!


Doesn't this simple trail of a road down by Douglas, Michigan, look inviting? The next two views are of long-ago Saugatuck:



Then it's on to Grand Haven, where I would swear there was an Atlantic City-style boardwalk and carnival rides in the Sixties, even saltwater taffy. Did I dream that visit to the shore with my sister and our respective boyfriends? This Grand Haven scene obviously predates whatever experience I had or didn't have there.


Ludington comes next. Doesn't this reminder make you want to jump in the car and drive to Ludington--or, if you're over in Wisconsin, drive your car onto the ferry to ride across the Lake?


And now we come to Sleeping Bear! The dune climb is still part of the National Lakeshore, but there are no more dunesmobiles, either the original or these later models.





(The ominous shadow over the dunes is not that of a UFO but only me with my camera, looming over the postcard.)

Between Glen Arbor and Leland, in the not-so-distant old days, at the intersection of M-22 and one of the roads back around Little Traverse Lake, you used to be able to take a stroll through Lund's Scenic Gardens, where scenes from the New Testament were displayed as life-size paintings. In the latter days of this attraction, when admission was free to any wanderer, coming upon one of these scenes in the tangled jungle of woods and weeds was particularly eerie.


Finally, here's Fishtown--


Fishtown in Leland. Who doesn't recognize Fishtown? Most of the shacks are still there, housing summer retail businesses. Carlson's Fisheries still sells fresh and smoked fish and smoked fish sausage. They go out themselves and catch the fish.

Where shall we go next week? To a big Michigan city? Which one? Detroit? Grand Rapids? Lansing? Or to the U.P.? Mackinac Island? The Keewanaw? Or to a few little inland towns here in the lower peninsula? I'm open to suggestions.

Come With Me on a Personal Leelanau Fall Color Tour

After breakfast on Sunday morning, David proposed a color tour. His oldest daughter, her husband and I promptly acquiesced. Our direction was south, our destination a particular area of Sleeping Bear that is dear to our hearts. We went “the Cedar way,” inland by way of Lake Leelanau, Cedar and Maple City.


Getting close, Bohemian Road (C.R. 669) took us to Lake Michigan Road, which parallels the lakeshore, where driver and passengers were all pleased to find that the road surface was not as completely washboard-y as it sometimes can be. And Shalda Creek is always lovely.


Then we turn onto the best-beloved two-track that used to be the driveway to David’s “house in the woods,” back before the Lakeshore came in. At the time he was upset, but now we are all happy to have this as public land, rather than being full of condos and closed off to us with big gates.


This tree has always been glorious, in every season--



Other trees have grown up over the years.





As it always did, the way leads eventually into the more subdued, dappled light of the woods.



There is color and light high above our heads. There is color at our feet. Some trees tower. Others, like the modest striped, or green, maple, are more our size. (This little tree always makes me think of my friend Kathie, who loves Acer serotina, sometimes called "moose maple" in the Far North.)




The old Indian marker tree, like those in Ladislav Hanka’s beautiful new book, points back to the meadow, so we can’t get turned around. Anyway, this is old home ground.


Not only for David but for all of us, it was good to revisit this spot and its memories and hear again the old stories, but there are many, many beautiful trails and sites in Sleeping Bear, from Port Oneida down into Benzie County. Which is your favorite?