Living in Michigan, no matter where you are in the state, you’re never more than an hour or two away from one of the Great Lakes.
Our proximity to these bodies of water inspires so many of our summer family vacations. This year, we went north to the Traverse City and Leelanau Peninsula region. We love our Door County, Wisconsin vacations so much that we wanted a similar experience this summer. With its apple and cherry orchards, numerous lakes, and varied landscape, the peninsula provided everything we look for in a holiday.
Despite the rain, we had a great vacation – a great mix of playing outdoors, relaxing by the lake, and exploring M-22 and the Sleeping Bear Dunes.
A funny thing happened at the world-renowned dunes: we visited during a particularly foggy day, where all of Lake Michigan was enshrouded in a heavy vapor. From the top of the dunes, you couldn’t see the lake at all.
We all looked on in amazement. It’s like we were staring at the edge of creation – down the dunes, you would fall off the end of the world.
Luckily, further north along the dunes, we did find a place to sit on the beach and swim in Lake Michigan.
Our state is fairly average in almost every way – except the scenery. If this is the edge of the world, we’re happy to be here.
Much like our vacation last summer, for spring break earlier this month, we went all natural and took a quick trip to the Smoky Mountains of Tennessee.
Sticking mainly to the national park, we enjoyed the fresh spring air of the Appalachians. And what scenery: lovely mountain streams following us along the roadways, vistas not yet obscured by tree foliage, and the winter melt trickling down from the mountainsides, creating little waterfalls everywhere we went.
After a mild winter, it was good to get outside and tire ourselves out.
I took along my handy little Canon EOS M with the EF-M 22mm f/2 – or as I call it, the Family Camera. It goes with us on every road trip. Over the years, it’s definitely earned its share of bumps and bruises, but it’s small and light, and the picture quality still can’t be beaten – almost 10 years later.
The 35mm equivalent focal length is wide enough to get these lovely landscape shots, and I can bring it in closer for shots of the kids or super close-up shots of flowers or details. While the autofocus is lousy, I don’t need it to catch quick-moving subjects too often. It’s a clumsy, deliberate camera, and I still love it.
I’ll probably drop it down a cliff or forget it at some roadside diner on one of our family vacations someday. If it ever needs replacing, I’d be satisfied with a white M2 “upgrade.”
For now, the M is in the “good enough” category. It captured those scenic Tennessee landscapes perfectly and came home to tell the tale.
So we went back to the spot we loved two years ago: Door County, Wisconsin. Same cabin property, same bay on Lake Michigan, same rustic charm and isolation that we needed so badly then and now.
And socially isolate we did. We rarely left the property, opting instead to hang out by the lake, eat Wisconsin cheese, drink Wisconsin cider and beer, and let the kids play in the water. The few times we did go out to explore the peninsula, we stuck to state parks and little shops. We ate out twice. We played it safe.
It was nice to not think about what was happening elsewhere in the country, or work, or anything else. We made new family memories, enjoyed our solitude, and drove back rested and refreshed.
The weather was perfect: lovely Great Lakes sunsets, never getting hotter than 80 degrees during the day, no rain. We stayed in a new cabin (next door to the one we stayed in last time) so I could explore the summer light.
My wife’s family is Disney Crazy – movies, merchandise, housewares, everything. And that includes a bi-annual trip to Disney World in Orlando, Florida.
I skipped the last trip, in 2018, but went along this year. That seems sensible to me – once every four years. Two years is a bit much.
This time, though, my wife brought the whole family: cousins, in-laws, brothers and sisters. In all, 14 of our people spent a week in the most Magical Place on Earth™.
And while I’m cynical about the whole thing, when you’re there, the magic really does affect you. Well, that and the 80-degree weather and sunshine. You do get swept up in the excitement. Having small children sure helps.
We found new things to do, and filled our schedules. There was the new Star Wars park to explore, and new rides, and a few days off just to relax, swim, and shop a bit. Us grown-ups even got a chance to leave the kids with the grandparents and go out for a night of adult fun.
I first came to Disney World when I was five years old, and visited again in high school and my young professional life. Last time I took the trip, in 2016, I explored the parks photographically, with my family, seeing these wonderlands with new eyes.
This year, I mainly focused on the kids and creating memories for them, but I did find a few opportunities to see the park as a photographer, looking for those little quiet moments in all the hub-bub.
Some final pictures from our Upper Peninsula vacation.
The trip has me thinking about growing older and the kind of life I’d like to live, even though retirement is a ways off. I have all kinds of thoughts about owning an orchard and living quietly by a lake. Up here, both may be possible.
During our holiday, we spent time inside and outside the park, exploring the wooded paths down sandstone bluffs as well as cruising past the cliffs along Lake Superior. Both were scenic and humbling.
It’s a long drive, and a long boat ride, from one end of the park to the other. Along the way, we tried to take in as much as we could.
On the cruise, we sat next to a German couple, the guy had one of those big Nikon rigs with a couple of the big zoom lenses. I did the best I could with my aging (but still handy) Canon EOS M with a 22mm (35mm equiv.) lens.
Cross the bridge into Michigan’s Upper Peninsula and you come into a different world.
Vast stretches of nothing. Straight, empty highways for as far as you can see. Water and forests and wetlands surrounded by three Great Lakes. Quiet and old and wild.
After our trip to Door County, Wisconsin, last year, we wanted a similar upper Midwest experience. We picked Munising as our home base, with a little cabin out in the middle of the Hiawatha National Forest, and ventured out into God’s Country to see all of that different world stuff.
We started the trip halfway there, in St. Ignace, right across the Mackinac Bridge from Mackinaw City. Like its neighbor across Lake Michigan, St. Ignace is a tourist town, but much quieter, and much less gaudy. After one night, the sun came up over Lake Michigan and we made the long trek through the U.P. to see Whitefish Point, sticking out into Lake Superior, and then on to our cabin in the woods.
Each day was an adventure – and a drive, since nothing was close by up here. That meant a lot of time in the car, and a lot of entertaining little kids, but once we got out and into the fresh air, we did our best to tire them out.
After our Wisconsin summer vacation, I had the thought to take the photos from the trip and make a little picture book out of them.
This week, I did just that after receiving a discount email from Snapfish. Just $12 for an 8×11″ book with 20 pages? Sold.
I rarely jump on those deals when I get them, but once in a while the opportunity and the idea come together to make something happen.
There are a ton of photo printing companies out there, just begging you to make something. These places are constantly sending out coupons and discounts. Test a few out, see what you like, and then wait for the sale emails to come in. It’s too affordable not to something.
This pilgrimage to Pentwater, Michigan, is a nearly annual tradition for us. Unlike many Lake Michigan towns on the western side of the state, Pentwater isn’t touristy like cities like South Haven. It’s quieter and smaller here.
We have our usual spots: the fish market, with some of best fish and chips around; the go kart track; the quiet little beach on Lake Michigan; the farmers market; and the Methodist family camp where my wife spent her summers.
This is our Michigan holiday, in a nutshell – along Lake Michigan, enjoying the sunshine and the food and summer before it leaves us again.
As with any vacation, getting back home feels like you never left. Even with a week and a modest agenda, time flies on holiday.
But we certainly made the best of it. One or two things per day, venturing out and about this peninsula, we felt like we went on enough adventures while still managing three kiddos.
For my photographic eyes, it was plenty. Those red cherries, that blue Great Lake, those violet lavender blossoms, the golden sunsets, and – just like Michigan – plenty of green everywhere we went.
Two out of the three kids would probably never remember this family vacation. For me, it was memorable enough to consider creating a photo book of our summer trip – a reminder of where we went and what we saw. And perhaps a reminder for if and when we consider this place again.
Taking photos is how I get to know a place. With any new home, or job, or vacation destination, my camera becomes a sixth sense – another way to feel the vibes of a location.
To our family, this little corner of Door County, Wisconsin was completely new, yet spiritually familiar. We knew this lake, we knew these trees, we understood this climate. What was different was the little touches of Scandinavian culture (Lutheran Churches everywhere!), and the supper clubs, and fish boils – those little touches of Wisconsin that made us feel we were really somewhere new.
This cabin, too, reminded me so much of my grandparents’ farm house. The slanted room, the crawl spaces, the outdated furniture – it was like stepping back into my own past.
Here on the other side of the Niagara Escarpment, we felt with our eyes and tasted with our sight.
I knew I wanted to go to Wisconsin, that upper midwest state on the other side of Lake Michigan. My dad stayed at the Wisconsin Dells, in a rustic cabin, and I figured we could do some fun family things while trying to avoid too much of the touristy parts.
But we love Lake Michigan. What if we could spend a whole week in one spot, by the big lake, and keep it quiet?
I did a bit of research, and found Door County – the little peninsula that sticks out into Lake Michigan, north of Green Bay. In essence, it’s a more westerly version of northern Michigan: cherry orchards, lakeside towns, fishing charters, and a bit of that stepping-back-in-time feeling when you visit our Upper Peninsula.
And boy did we step back in time. The cabin we found, near Sturgeon Bay, barely had cell coverage. It was barely updated since the early 1970s. It was perfect.
We had a little beach down by the lake, we could cook a random meal right there at the cabin, and it served as a launching point for plenty of fun family activities.
This was it – the last big adventure of the summer, saved until the end.
The trick was lining up our northern Michigan vacation with the grandparents’ schedules. One pair in Mackinaw City for a few days, and the other in Petoskey for the second half. Help with adventures, babysitting, and overnights. With three kids, taking one to spend time with the grandparents relieves a bit of the strain.
Not that this was stressful. No, northern Michigan moves at a vacation pace. Water, and sky, and enough green and blue to make both of our major state university fans happy.
This close to Lake Michigan, and this close to all those forests – it’s a proper goodbye to nice weather, and water, and wilderness for a while. We even said goodbye to the trout sunning themselves at an honest-to-goodness fish hatchery, complete with a bald eagle waiting, and watching, in the canopy above.
It’s what’s so great about living in our state. A few hours in every direction and you’re next to a giant freshwater lake and enough nature to forget that it’ll all be buried in snow and ice in a few months.
It was supposed to be an easy-going four-day vacation – a quick trip down to Toledo, Ohio (the Midwest’s premier getaway destination, naturally) and visit the zoo on Friday. Our first trip with the three kids.
What we got instead was a near-drowning in the hotel pool, a scary trip to the emergency room, and a rainy zoo day.
Despite all that, we made the best of it. We took an impromptu trip back to the Toledo Zoo on Saturday, when it was warm and sunny, and did it right. We also met some friends at Tony Packo’s and enjoyed some good Hungarian hot dogs, coney style.
Easy-going? Not so much. But we got out of the house and started the vacation season in earnest.
So here’s the plan: fly into Vegas on Friday, Sept. 10 around 9:30 at night, grab my compact rental car, and start driving. Leave the Sin City behind and hit the road.
Next, make it to Springdale, Utah, just south of Zion National Park, check into a room at some low-rate motel, and hit the park. Hiking and picture taking. A day, maybe two, then hit the road again, southeast this time, toward the Grand Canyon’s North Rim. Find a spot to sleep, maybe with the rental car as my tent, build a fire in the desert, and wake up to do some more hiking – to the bottom of the Earth.
Last time I was in the neighborhood, I passed up on the Grand Canyon only because of time constraints. By the time Route 66 wound through Arizona, there was too much left to see along the actual route – and when I got to California, I had to turn around and drive all the way back home.
But I always knew I’d be back, and it only took four years. So it’s time to do the largest gorge on Earth justice and explore it righteously.
My only concern is gear: since I’ll be flying and not driving West, it’s not like I can fill the car with tents and pots and backpacks. In fact, I want to travel as lightly as possible. One option is to pick up everything I’ll need there, use it, and ship it home. I’m still working this one out.
After all the parks, it’s on to New Mexico, and to Albuquerque to see Cowboy and Sarah and Kita, their nice, skittish dog. The last time I was in town I had a burger and malt at a ‘50s-style diner, and became a member of the Albuquerque Public Library System to use the Internet. That was only an hour or two, but this time I’ll have days to explore: visit the Route again, maybe do some hiking, definitely go swimming in the Myers’s apartment complex pool.
That’s until Friday night. Saturday morning has me hauling ass across the desert to make it back to Vegas and take a red eye flight back home.
It’s an adventure like the old days, when time and money were no object. My last big trip was New England, and that seems so long ago that I get experiences from that trip mixed with the others. Which trip had my knee hurting? (New England) Which trip had fears of car trouble? (Route 66 and Pennsylvania/Columbus) Which trip was I hit on by a gay guy? (All of them)
This is how I get my head straightened out. Me, sitting in a car, blaring the radio, windows down (yes, even – and especially – in the desert), seeing things I’ve never seen before. It’s cathartic and therapeutic and fun all at once. It’s the “me” that I’ve gotten to know so well, and it’s time to revisit that feeling.
There was a story in Ken Burns’s “The National Parks” documentary about the head of the national parks, Stephen Mather, going bat-shit insane if he didn’t get out and explore the country on a periodic basis. He spent so much time in Washington that he would up in a mental ward for 18 months until his family took him out West and – lo and behold – his soul and sanity were restored. I can relate.
After a certain amount of time, I get The Itch – the feeling that there’s adventure out there somewhere. Really, it’s because there’s not much room to sit and think around these parts. Sitting and doing nothing but thinking, with some hiking and picture-taking mixed in, allows for time and space totally dedicated to reflection. What have I done? Where am I going next? Why didn’t I stop at that last rest area? These are questions that need to be answered.
So I’ll answer them at the bottom of the Earth, and in between tunnels of rock and dirt, and in the middle of nowhere – amongst my best friends.
Next week, I face the first week-long vacation of my adult life where I have no plans.
I’ve never taken time off from work and done nothing.
By “nothing” I mean no cross-country trip, of course. My first dose of vacation time took to me my first solo trip, a long weekend in Chicago, and from then on it’s been 1,000 miles or more. It’s the only way I know how to operate.
But it’s not like I have “nothing” to do. I’ve got an entire list of projects, errands, and favors I can attend to. In fact, I plan to use some of my time off to plan my next giant interstate (or inter-province) trip.
Through May, I’m using the last of my remaining vacation time. There’s an entire week off next week, and then there’s a five-day weekend for Memorial Day later this month. For that, I’ve had a few ideas. I’ve wanted to hike the Appalachian Trail, so I thought about heading down to the Tennessee/North Carolina border and roughing it. Yosemite National Park is also on my to-see list. Part of my big end-of-July trip involves me actually having money, however, and each of those trips seemed costly. What’s a budget-minded person to do?
Here’s the beauty of Facebook: I planned a long weekend in Los Angeles with Andrew thanks to a few wall postings. How’s that for planning? All it will cost me is the plane ticket and money for food. And perhaps a Dodgers game.
All that’s in the future. Next week, though, I plan on tying up any loose ends in my life. That includes thinking seriously and deeply about what I want to do with the next five years. Where do I want to work? Where do I want to live? What else do I want to do?
My mom’s death left me introspective. It’s not that I didn’t see it coming, but I realized that I’ve been stuck in a rut. Mom dying woke me out of it. So from here on out, I’m not going to be so nervous about trying on new things, tasting new experiences, and quit living life day to day as I have been.
We get comfortable. You’ve probably felt it yourself.
Then we wake up 20 years down the road and have a lot of unchecked items off our big To-Do List. I don’t want that to happen.
So that’s what I’ll do next week: work on the next big project. I’ll have plenty of free time to think, do, and plan.
