This day would be dedicated to a unique place, an island in Lake Huron where cars are not allowed, only horses and bikes: Mackinac Island. I had packed my bike because I was planning to cycle around wineries in Traverse City, not even thinking about the need for them on Mackinac Island, so I was glad I had it. The day was gorgeous, not too hot but sunny with no sign of rain. I took the morning ferry over from Mackinaw City, which routed passengers around the Mackinac Bridge, which connects Michigan’s lower and upper peninsulas. The narration was hard to hear, but I caught that each cable truss was 2.5 inches wide.
The trip was not long, and the ferry was pretty crowded with families traveling for a day-long excursion.
The island has a lower main street at the harbor. To cycle in Mackinac Island, tourists are required to purchase a bike license, but there are no instructions for how to navigate traffic, and the area near the harbor is rife with cyclists turning without any signals, pedestrians crossing streets without warning, and piles of horse poop to avoid. I had decided to cycle the seven mile perimeter after breakfast, before it got hot, which would help me get my bearings. Despite having to purchase a license for bike riding, there was a lot of amateurs near the harbor. People had no idea how to accommodate the bikes, and then there was a lot of horse poop to navigate. Once outside the harbor, the ride became stunning. As I got further from the harbor, I had fewer and fewer cyclists to share the road until I looped back toward the town. I stopped now and then to take to take pictures, climb a bit, and take in Lake Huron and the island.
From the lower road, the island rises. I wanted some time off my bike and headed to the Grand Hotel. Upon arrival to the downtown again, I headed to the Grand Hotel. They offered free bike parking, but they charge an entrance fee of $10 to wander around the famous hotel. I know people who go annually, and there’s a decoration style that mimics the hotel. I wandered the ground floor and it felt a bit faded in its elegance. The front porch is iconic, so I headed there. The day had turned very sunny and I could find no seats left in the shade. I looked to the drink menu for something to enjoy despite the sun, but nothing on it compelled me, so I wandered the geranium pots before heading inside for a try at the cafe, which also seemed fairly ordinary. I headed upstairs to look out the panoramic windows in the pub, but most of the windows had customers already seated there, so I went back downstairs, browsed the gift shop, and then indulged in some ice cream on the deck to the rear of the hotel. The Michigan Mud ice cream was the most remarkable item I found for purchase. Perhaps, had I stayed for the elegant dinner–which includes a dress code–I might have seen the elegance.
Instead, I cycled the upper Market Street, which offered a number of small historic stops. I headed directly to Ft. Mackinac, which was featuring the role of women who had been billeted there. The fort existed before the American Revolution and closed in the 19th century. Its views were stunning and the stop was shaded and informative. I had a drink and could tell, even from the fort, that the island was quieting down. I was starting to fatique from the cycling, so I parked again and walked up and down the lower main street to consider souvenirs and purchase fudge. I was reminded of Bar Harbor in Maine and Matha’s Vineyard in Massachusetts–my effort to find a localized cycling jersey came up empty there as it did in these other places–a seeming miss for all of them given the prominance of cycling.
A friend had recommended a place for dinner outside the Grand, and I cycled toward it but discovered I needed to double back to access it. In doing so, I came across a side restaurant owned by the Grand, and decided to stop for a welcome meal. I had thought I would stay on the island until the final ferry to take it all in, but it was clear that most visitors had retreated to their rooms or off the island and my options were limited to drinking. So I surprised myself by getting on an earlier ferry and heading back to the mainland, enjoying the sunset and a quiet night in my home.