Elkhart, IN – A Visit to the RV/MH Hall of Fame

Marblehead Lighthouse Sandusky Ohio

Marblehead Lighthouse, near Sandusky, Ohio

Oberlin Ohio

The town of Oberlin, Ohio

Oberlin College

Oberlin College building

Tartan C&C Sailboat Factory and Boatyard

Tartan - C&C factory and boatyard

RV/MH Hall of Fame Elkhart Indiana

RV/MH Hall of Fame

RV/MH Hall of Fame Elkhart Indiana

RV/MH Hall of Fame

Escapees Magazine

Jul-Aug, 2007 Issue features a book review of Al

Hesselbart's "The Dumb Things Sold... just like that"

1930's vintage travel trailer RV/MH Hall of Fame Road Back in Time

Road Back in Time

RV/MH Hall of Fame Road Back in Time RV/MH Hall of Fame Road Back in Time 1929 Wiedman Housecar

1929 Wiedman Housecar

driver's seat, a $35 option

1913 Model T &

1913 Model T & "Earl" Travel Trailer

1913 Model T &

1913 "Earl" Travel Trailer

1916 Cozy Camp Tent Trailer

1916 Cozy Camp Tent Trailer

Wooden spoked wheels on vintage trailer

Wooden spoked wheels

Vintage tent trailer

Well, at least you're up off the ground!

1932 Gilkie Kamp King Tent Trailer

1932 Gilkie Kamp King Tent Trailer

1932 Gilkie Kamp King Tent Trailer

Ice box and pass-through pantry

1935 Covered Wagon Travel Trailer

1935 Covered Wagon Travel Trailer

1935 Covered Wagon Travel Trailer inside

1935 Covered Wagon Travel Trailer

inside

1955 Ranger Crank-up Tent Trailer

1955 Ranger Crank-up Tent Trailer

1954 Shasta Travel Trailer

1954 Shasta Travel Trailer

1954 Shasta Travel Trailer

Mark and his sisters camped here!

1954 Shasta Travel Trailer

Gravity fed water system with a hose to the sink

1967 19' Winnebegao Motor Home

1967 19' Winnebegao Motor Home

Mae West's 1931 Housecar

Mae West's 1931 Housecar. She would sit in a rocking

chair on the back porch to enjoy the breeze.

1937 Hayes Motorhome

Pristine woodwork in a 1937 Hayes Motorhome

1929 Covered Wagon

1929 Covered Wagon

1935 Bowlus Road Chief

1935 Bowlus Road Chief

1916 Telescoping Apartment

1916 Telescoping Apartment

Escapees' Joe & Kay Peterson

Joe & Kay Peterson were inducted in 2001

Kay Peterson quote

"If you don't fulfill your dreams now, when will you?"

Ohio & the Elkhart, Indiana RV Hall of Fame

Early June, 2009 - We left the Detroit area for a southern loop tour.

We drove along the Ohio shore of Lake Erie, headed over to Elkhart,

Indiana and came up along Michigan's southwest coast before

returning to Detroit.  In the midst of our seven week hiatus from living in

our trailer, we found it odd and fun to be traveling by rental car and

motels for a change.  We hadn't lived out of a car with a cooler in

years.  Mark got a kick out of driving the tiny Hyundai Accent, as it

could turn on a dime and park anywhere, quite a contrast to our Dodge

RAM 3500 long bed truck which needs almost four lanes to do a U-

turn.

Our first stop was Marblehead Lighthouse outside Sandusky with views

of the Cedar Point amusement park across the bay.  It is nestled among

some wonderful flat boulders that stair-step their way to the lake.  Built in

1819, the keeper decided to put his home a full 2.5 miles away.  Every

night he had to get over to the lighthouse to light 13 whale oil lamps and

then return in the morning to extinguish them.  What a hike!

Along the

shores of

Lake Erie, we stopped for an ice cream cone at the Dairy Dock in the

little town of Vermilion.  After licking our way to bliss at their picnic

benches, our hearts stopped when we discovered we'd locked the keys

in the car.  Within five minutes the ice cream shop had called the cops

and a cruiser had arrived to unlock the car for us.  Incredible.  The cop

wouldn't even accept an ice cream treat from us, though he said it was

his fifth keys-locked-in call of the day.

I had heard much about Oberlin College in my student days, and when I

saw it on the map we made a quick detour.  The town and college have

grown up as one, both intimately integrated.  We spent a happy few

hours wandering around, then stopped in at the admissions office to look

at a course catalog.  No such luck: today's students just go online.

We had driven along Lake Erie to visit the Tartan sailboat factory.

Tartan is a highly respected, expensive brand that is nice to admire if a

friend owns one but requires exceptionally deep pockets to buy.  So it

was a bit of a shock to see the drab little factory building that didn't even

have a sign out front other than a small cloth banner.  There were just a

few boats being built, and they had started taking in refurbishment

projects to keep everyone employed.  However, a big highlight for us

was seeing the 53' yacht they were just completing.  To the tune of $1.4

million, some fortunate soul would soon take delivery in Florida to sail it

through the Caribbean to the South Pacific.

We cut across

Ohio to

Elkhart,

Indiana, the heart of the RV industry, or at least home to the vast

majority of RV manufacturers as well as the RV/MH Hall of Fame.  We

had heard rumors that Elkhart was really suffering because the RV

industry had taken such a beating in the past year.  However, a stop at

McDonald's revealed the most upscale version of that fast food joint I've

ever seen.  There were several very large flat screen TVs hanging on

the walls, like a sports bar, comfy couches, and an enormous two-sided

fireplace that filled the center of the restaurant.  If Elkhart was suffering

now, it had certainly known some extremely flush times in recent years.

We spent an afternoon at the

RV/MH Hall of Fame.  It sits on a huge piece of beautifully landscaped property and has a

long manicured driveway leading up to a striking, modern building.  I was so impressed

with the fountain showing off the building's glass windowed facade that I jumped out of the

car to take a photo.  Only after I hopped back in and we parked did I realize that the side

that impressed me so much was the back side.  The grander entrance was on the other

side in the front!  The building is a rotunda with fountains on both sides and there are

towering plate glass windows looking out at the pretty acreage all around.

A very friendly fellow

greeted us, explaining what

we'd see inside.  He stood

next to a podium displaying

an issue of Escapees

Magazine which had

featured a review of Al

Hesselbart's book "The

Dumb Things Sold...just like

that!"  Apparently there was

some surprise among the

RV industry's founding fathers that America would take to life on the

road and become so enthusiastic about camping in towed and

driven vehicles.

A picture on the wall

showed a 1930's era

couple happily driving a

convertible pulling a trailer.

Just beyond that we turned

a corner and stepped onto

the "Road Back in Time," a

clever, charming and

informative display of

trailers and motorhomes

from the 1910's to the

1970's.

This museum puts you in

the driver's seat (and there

is a crazy one that was a

$35 option in a 1929

"housecar."  It looks more

like a living room reading

chair than a driver's seat).  You can walk into most of the trailers

to get a good look.

The 1913 "Earl" Travel Trailer (towed by a 1913 Model "T")

is the oldest travel trailer in the world.

The table seats four and folds down into a double bed, with

storage under the seats.  This unit was custom made by a

Los Angeles carriage maker for a CalTech professor and

was quite upscale.

In contrast, the homebuilt 1916 Cozy Camp Tent Trailer

looked like all it did was get your bed up off the ground.  Under

the wooden wagon box were wooden spoked wheels.  These

didn't last long and manufacturers quickly switched to

pneumatic tires.

The idea of a small towable box that popped up and popped

out, like a modern popup tent trailer, seems to have been

common even before World War I.  However, unlike the

modern descendants of these rickety looking canvas popups,

the beds opened to the sides of the trailer rather than popping

out of the front and back.

Of course today's popups feature hot and cold running water,

propane stove and refrigerator, air conditioning, forced hot air

heat, and sometimes a small toilet and shower.  The ancestral

popup featured two twin beds, some small screen

windows and little else.  But I bet they faced fewer crowds

and had just as much fun as we do today.

The 1932 Gilkie Kamp King Tent Trailer had a pass-

through ice box and pantry shelves on the front of the

trailer so it could be provisioned whether it was open or

closed.  Gilkie was one of the first trailer builders based in

Indiana, and this particular one was used by its owner

from the 1930's until 1988.

"Hard sided" trailers were popular too.

The 1935 Covered Wagon Travel

Trailer is boxy looking from the outside, but

what storage space inside!  All kinds of

drawers and cabinets for those camping

essentials.  It was built by the largest

manufacturer of that time.  They turned out

45-50 trailers a day from a single plant!  The

exterior of this trailer is "genuine leatherette"

over a thin layer of plywood, and the roof is

coated canvas stretched over tar paper.

The 1955 Ranger Crank Up Trailer looked

like a cross between a popup and the

modern HiLo series of trailers.  This trailer model was the first

one to use fiberglass for the sides.  It also featured a bed that

extended out the back, which the company described as a

"slide-out."  They were the

first manufacturer to use

that term which is so

common in all RVs today.

The next trailer got Mark

smiling:  "My dad had one

of those!"  It was a 1954

Shasta 15' Travel Trailer.

When I peeked inside I

tried to imagine Mark's

Mom making meals in

there and Mark and his

sisters sitting at the little

table.

It had a gravity-fed water

system that had a reservoir in the cabinet over the sink and a small

hose leading into the sink.

The 1967 19' Winnebego Motor Home looked like some of the rigs

we'd seen on Shelter Island in San Diego a few months earlier.  It

was the first of the 6-cylinder

Ford chassis based motorhomes

and, priced at $5,000, it kick-started

the motorhome industry.

Once through the "Road Back in

Time," we moved on into the Ingram

Hall of Fame.  This is a special exhibit

area that features the antique RV

collection owned by "Boots" Ingram,

founder of Teton Homes (which until

last year produced ultra high end fifth

wheels) and his wife Betty.  Each unit

is one-of-a-kind and has a unique

history.

Perhaps most interesting was Mae

West's chauffeur driven Housecar, custom built to take her to and from the movie sets in 1931.

It was offered to her by Paramount Pictures as an enticement to get her to leave the Vaudeville

circuit to make movies.  It was intended as something of a moveable lounge, equipped with an

icebox and hotplate stove for making tea, and it carried a rocking chair on the "back porch"

where she could enjoy the breeze.

Another special antique was the 1937

Hayes Motor Home which featured

exquisite woodwork inside.  This

particular unit was used just a few

times in the 1940's and then put in

storage until it was rediscovered in

the 1990's.  So other than exterior

paint, everything is 100% original.

The 1929 Covered Wagon trailer was

the first production trailer made in the

US.  Covered Wagon became the

biggest trailer manufacturer in the

1930's but closed its doors after

World War II.

And what antique RV exhibit would be complete without a reference to the aluminum sided

Airstream.  This model was the predecessor, designed by Hawley Bowlus of sailplane (glider)

design fame.  His segmented aluminum panels were intended to look like a glider's silk fabric

stretched over a wood frame.  Airstream took over the design in 1936 and made some minor

changes, eliminating the boat-tail end and moving the entry door.

My favorite, and the hardest to capture in a picture (and none turned out right), is the 1916

Telescoping Apartment built on a 1915 Model T truck.  The back of the truck camper system

slides out on both sides, revealing cooking accessory storage and a fold-out table on one side

and clothing storage drawers on the other.  The rear end telescopes out to create an open area

in the middle of the truck large enough to be a bed.  It was something of a puzzle to imagine

how it all folded in on itself for travel.

There was so much to see that our

eyes started to glaze over.  As I

review the photos now, I wish I had

taken even more pictures, although

I remember at the time thinking I

had taken too many already, as my

camera was flashing about five times more

than anyone else's.  Upstairs we found the

Wall of Fame lined with photos of the RV

industry dignitaries that have been

honored each year since 1972.  There is

no info about the honorees accompanying

the photos, but there is a computer nearby

that has a database where you can search

for an honoree and read a short bio about

him or her.

We found the photo of Kay and Joe Peterson of Escapees, who were honored in 2001, and the one of

Wally Byam of Airstream who was honored in the first year, 1972.  We wanted to see if the founders of

NuWa had been honored, but the system isn't set up to make that kind of search very easy.  You need to know the name of the

honoree rather than the name of the company.

Upstairs also houses the Reference Library.  Here you can find back issues of any and every RV magazine that ever existed, from

the earliest issues of Trailer Life to the most recent issue of the Gypsy Journal.  All the magazines stand vertically in open boxes on

the bookshelves, so you can easily grab any issue and thumb through it.  We spent some happy moments leafing through old

Trailer Dealer industry trade magazines and looking at back copies of Camping World catalogs.  We even found ads in old trailer

magazines for some of the trailers we had just seen on the Road Back in Time.

It was interesting to breeze through some of the articles from years past and find that many of the same issues were as important

in those days as they are today:  how to live with limited resources while on the road, advocacy for access to public lands,

campground etiquette, how to keep the kids happy, and maintenance on every part of a trailer or motorhome, among other things.

I randomly grabbed the October/November 1990 issue of Escapees magazine.  It was much smaller and thinner than today's

edition, but it still had an opening editorial by Kay Peterson.  As she does in today's magazine, she was gently reminding us to get

out there and pursue our dreams:

"Because we have no way of knowing how long our life's cycle will last, it

upsets me to hear people, young and old, who are waiting for a particular

event to do whatever it is they want to do... If you don't fulfill your dreams

now, when will you?"

Thank you, Kay, that is timeless advice!

And with her gentle encouragement ringing in our ears, we went back to

the motel to rest up for the next day's adventure: driving the Amish

Heritage Trail.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lake Michigan – Charming coastal towns

Saugatuck Michigan Chain Ferry

Saugatuck Chain Ferry

Saugatuck Michigan Chain Ferry

Hand-cranking the ferry

Saugatuck Michigan shops

Saugatuck Main Street

Saugatuck Michigan shops Saugatuck Michigan shops Mt. Baldhead Saugatuck Michigan

282 steps to the top

Mt. Baldhead Saugatuck Michigan

Looking down at Saugatuck

Grand Haven Michigan

Grand Haven, MI

Grand Haven Michigan Higgins Lake campground Michigan

Higgins Lake

Higgins Lake campground Michigan

Behind the ice cream shop is a secret path...

Higgins Lake campground Michigan

Higgins Lake

Bay Breeze Yacht Charters Travers City Michigan

Bay Breeze Yacht Charters

Bay Breeze Yacht Charters Travers City Michigan

Free sailing!

Chateau Chantal vineyard Traverse City Michigan

Chateau Chantal vineyard

Old Mission Lighthouse Michigan

Old Mission Lighthouse

Old Mission Peninsula Michigan Old Mission Peninsula Michigan boat Pyramid Point Michigan Hike

Pyramid Point Hike

Pyramid Point Michigan Hike Sleeping Bear Dunes National Park

Birch tree -- not aspen

Pyramid Point, Sleeping Bear Dunes National Park. Michigan

Pyramid Point, Sleeping Bear Dunes National Park.

Pyramid Point, Sleeping Bear Dunes National Park. Michigan Iris farm Michigan Iris farm Michigan Iris farm Michigan

Saugatuck, Higgins Lake & Traverse City

Early June, 2009 - We left South Haven, Michigan and drove a little

further up the coast to Saugatuck, another utterly charming town along

the the state's southern Lake Michigan coast.  At the far end of town

we discovered the hand-cranked Saugatuck Chain Ferry which takes

passengers across the river.  As we stood at the little ferry dock

marveling at this contraption, a mom, dad and daughter on bikes

appeared on the other side of the river.  They started waving their

hands excitedly, the little girl especially.  Suddenly the two young boys

on the chain ferry leaped into action.

One boy managed the lines while the other manned the hand-cranking

station.  He cranked the lever round and round, and slowly the ferry

began to move along its chain.  The current is quite strong in the

middle of the river, and it made sense to put this hand-powered ferry

on a chain system so it couldn't drift downstream faster than it could be

cranked across.  The family on the other side happily loaded their

bikes onto the ferry and the boys switched roles for the return trip.

The town has a lovely main street

for walking and window shopping.

We found many pretty flower

displays along the storefronts as

we walked.  We wished we had our

bikes so we could venture a little

further from the center of town.

However, being bikeless, at least

this pretty flower basket bike was

nice to photograph.

On the far side of the river, where

the family of bicyclists had flagged

down the ferry, Mount Baldhead

has  282 stairs leading to the top.

Lots of people seem to climb this

staircase as a workout -- at

different paces.  Mark pumped

his way to the top at a steady

trot, while I gave myself a few

breathers near the end.

After admiring the view at the

top, we ran down the sand path

on the other side to Oval Beach

for a quick peak at the lake.

Then we got our heart rates

going again as we staggered up

the sand path to the top.

Sweaty and grinning, I started

down the stairs to the car.  I

hadn't gone 12 stairs when I

met a 79-year-old woman

coming up.  She had stopped to

catch her breath, and as she

wiped her brow she told me she

climbs this stairway once a year.

We got back in the car and started making our way north again.  On a

small road that wound through the backs of some pretty neighborhoods

we saw a commotion ahead of us in someone's front yard.  Kids and

bikes were everywhere and a small pen was set up in the yard.  We got

out of the car to see what the fuss was about and discovered a family

was selling a litter of six adorable Golden Retriever pups.  Hardly any

were in the pen; all were in the arms of the neighborhood kids.  The

momma retriever stood to one side looking very proud and rather

exhausted.  Mark finally got a chance to hold a pup, and he was in

heaven.  If we weren't living a traveling lifestyle, he would have been the

proud owner of a new puppy that day.

A little further up the road we stopped in Grand Haven, another small town that has grown

up along the shores of Lake Michigan.  An ice cream cone and a stroll around town, and

we were happy tourists.

We returned to Detroit for a week or so to catch

up with family again.  Then we got the itch to

see more of Michigan and set out for the

northern reaches of the state.  Our first stop

was Higgins Lake, Mark's family's old stomping

grounds when they camped with a myriad of

cousins and aunts and uncles in large family

caravans years ago.  The little Shasta sister-

trailer we had seen in Elkhart had hosted many

a family campfire at Higgins Lake.

Mark remembered the rangers at

this campground as being quite

cranky, and sure enough they

wouldn't allow us to drive through

the campground to take a look

around unless we paid for a night's stay.  As teens, Mark and his friends

had referred to the ranger there as "Ranger Danger," and had done

dastardly things like played very loud Led Zeppelin from their oversized

car stereo systems, blasting everyone out of the campground.  Now, of

course, whenever rowdy teens disturb our serene camping spots, I have

to remind him that it is simply payback time.

But our mission of the moment

was to get into the Higgins Lake

campground just long enough to get a good nostalgic

look around.  Mark drove past the campground entrance

to the old ice cream stand that he and his cousins had

walked to every day, and sure enough, the little path he

remembered still led into the campground out of sight of

the main entrance.  We snuck down the path and got

our trip down memory lane despite Ranger Danger.

Mark's dad had always rented a big party barge during

their stays on the lake, and as we looked out on all the

happy boaters, the many family slideshows we'd been

watching over the past few weeks suddenly came to life.

Continuing north across the state, we spent some time

in Traverse City.  This charming area was feeling the pinch from the bad

economy and we stayed in a motel that had posted a sign saying: "We're

almost giving rooms away," which they were.  As we drove along the

shorefront of this very pretty town, we heard

advertisements for a boat show.  Who could pass that up?

So off we went to see what a Great Lakes boat show might

be like.

Bay Breeze Yacht Charters was the center of attention.

The business had been recently acquired by Dave and

Kristin who had Michigan roots but had just spent 14 years

in the Caribbean bareboat yacht charter business.  "Your

brain turns to mush after that long in the Caribbean," Dave

said, so they had returned to Michigan to shovel a little

snow and sharpen up a bit.  They were offering free sails

on the bay for the boat show and needed two more people

before they pushed off -- so we hopped on.  What fun to

be out sailing again!  As we hung around on the boat for a

while afterwards, all the thoughts about our sailing

dreams that we'd been

avoiding for the past month

suddenly flooded back.

Hmmm.

Early next morning we drove

out along the Mission

Peninsula on beautiful winding

roads past farms and orchards

and vineyards.  Chateau

Chantal is perched high up with

views past their vineyard to

distant farmlands that roll down

to the bay on the horizon.

At the end of the peninsula we walked around the Old Mission

Lighthouse and swished our fingers in the waters of the lake.

It was a glorious morning, and we must have said 50 times to each

other: "this would be a perfect place to ride a bike."  Sure enough,

before long, we came across a group of cyclists out for a morning ride

along those wonderful sweeping roads.  We followed them down a tiny

road that led out to the bay and watched the scenery unfold next to us

as we returned back towards Traverse City.

Every home had a boat dock across the

street, and boats of all shapes and sizes

were ready to take passengers out for a

ride on the lake.

Dave and Kristin of Bay Breeze had

recommended we drive straight west to

the open shore of Lake Michigan and

hike out to Pyramid Point in the Sleeping

Bear Dunes.  The hike took us through

some lush forest.

We noticed birch trees -- not our familiar

aspens -- along the trail.

At the end the

trail opened

up to a commanding view of Lake

Michigan.

The water was clear and turquoise,

shading to a rich blue a little further

out capped off by some low islands in

the distance.

We drove along the rural roads that

looped back towards Traverse City.

Suddenly a colorful palette of flowers

appeared, and we stopped for a closer

look.

It was an iris farm, and the

irises were in stunning bloom.

The farm had planted varieties

in every possible shade and

color combination.

We roamed along the rows of

flowers for an hour, stepping

gingerly between them.

Looking around at the many

hues, I felt like I was in the

middle of a Monet painting.

A second night in the

motel where they were "almost

giving rooms away," and we

were ready to go to further

north in search of more scenic

waterfront villages along

Northern Lake Michigan.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Elkhart, IN – RV Factories and Amish Country

Bonneyville Mills

Irises in bloom

White Amish barn

Horses & buggies parked at the hardware store

Kids get early driver's ed at a young age.

Jayco Designer fifth wheels in the holding pen

Jayco Jay Feather travel trailers

Amish home across the street from the Jayco holding pen

Modern versus antiquated. 

Complex & Global versus Simple & Local.

These buggies move at a fast clip

The Amish drive on government maintained roads

Yoder Popcorn

Plowing with a team of horses

Getting a little motorized help

Tending the garden

Nothing beats a little power

We saw at least seven women mowing this way

Return to Indiana countryside with red barns

Heartland Factory

Trailer chassis stacked up outside.

Wheels, water and holding tanks installed.

Flooring installed.

A unique dolly system moves trailers sideways down the line

Furniture installation begins.

Bathroom sinks waiting for installation.

Side and rear walls installed. It starts to look like a trailer.

Ready to install the slide-out room.

Slide-out ready to be installed on the trailer.

Slide-out is pre-assembled.

Ready for front caps to be installed

Front caps lined up for installation.

Ready for delivery.

Elkhart's Amish & Heartland RV Tours

Early June, 2009 - The Elkhart Visitors Center is a great resource.  Not

only did they help us locate the RV/MH Hall of Fame, but they gave us a

list of RV factory tour schedules.  It was astonishing to see how many

manufacturers are based in this town, and more surprising to see how

many weren't offering tours because they weren't in business any more.

I wanted to find out how to experience some of the local Amish culture,

and the lady at the desk handed me a CD called "The Amish Heritage

Tour."  You pop the CD into your car's player and it guides you through

a 90 mile tour of the surrounding countryside.  The accompanying paper

map helps you figure out where you are going.  The CD assumes you

drive the speed limit, and gives directions on where to turn.  As you drive

it narrates the history of the area, describing the industries that support

Elkhart today, pointing out the Amish settlements and giving insights into

their lifestyle, and explaining the Indian and European roots in the region too.  The sound effects and accompanying music are

delightful, and the driving instructions are terrific.  Every 5-10 miles there is something worth stopping to see, and the CD explains

where to park and what to look for as you walk around.  We returned the

CD to the Visitors Center at the end of our tour and later found out you

can download the MP3 files from their website instead of borrowing the

CD.

We spent a very happy day with that CD.  The first stop was Bonneyville

Mills.  A beautiful iris garden out front caught my eye.

The second suggested

stop was the RV/MH Hall

of Fame, which we had

seen the day before.  I

don't think you could

squeeze both tours into one day.  What we were most eager to see was the Amish countryside.  We

learned that some 20,000 Amish live in this area, of about 225,000 worldwide.  They are a subset of

the Mennonites who number about 1.5 million in 65 countries worldwide.  With a birth rate of 6.8

children per family, the Amish population is growing at 4% annually, making it one of the fastest

growing cultures in the world.  Customs vary by community, but in this area their homesteads have

white barns rather than the usual red ones in the rest of Indiana and Michigan.

The essence of their beliefs is twofold:  humility and isolation.  Their forebears were so terribly

persecuted for their religion in Europe in the 1600's that they withdrew from society at large,

preferring to nurture their own community's independence while keeping the rest of the world at bay.

Therefore, when electricity became available in the 1920's, they rejected it, as it would bind them to

the non-Amish around them.  Similarly, they prefer to travel by horse and buggy and work the fields

manually.  A horse's range is perhaps 25 miles before it needs to rest and eat, shortening the distance they can travel outside the

Amish community.  Manual field tools prevent anyone from attempting to acquire a larger field than his neighbor and thereby

aggrandize himself rather than remain humble. All this adds up to an extremely simple lifestyle that thrives without much

technology.  However the rejection of technology is not so much of technology in and of itself but of things that could lead to one

individual standing apart from the rest or that could make the community dependent on the outside world.

I had seen photos of Amish horses and buggies but

couldn't really believe it, so when I saw them all tied to

hitching posts at the local hardware store and local

dentist's office I was quite startled.  The biggest

grouping was at the local bulk food market, a huge

building that must have had 40 horses and buggies

lined up outside.  All the horses were dark colored and

the buggies were black.  Most had a roof, windshield

and doors, though some were open air buggies.

The kids get early equestrian training and learn to

drive on the roads responsibly at a young age.

The CD instructed us not to take photos of the Amish, which

I mostly obeyed.  However, in every Amish shop we entered

(which were staffed exclusively by Amish), there were

arrays of books and information about the Amish for sale,

featuring photos of all kinds, including some beautiful coffee

table books that had very intimate photographs of the

Amish in all aspects of their lives.  Who took those lovely

photos, and did the Amish object?  Apparently not, as they

were happy to display and sell the books.  The Amish are

not totally independent of the world around them, as they

need to buy homes and land as their population increases,

so they interact financially.  Some rely on the tourist trade

for money and others hold jobs.  They have

been affected by the economic downturn as

well, and I read one local newspaper article

about an Amish man who had lost his job in

an RV factory and had to rely solely on his

farm.  He liked spending more time at home

with his kids and wife, tending their farm

together, but he said if his job were available

again he would return to work without

hesitation.

In our search for trailers last year, we had encountered several

manufacturers who advertised that their trailers were Amish made,

especially the interior woodwork.  The image of a man with beard,

suspenders and wide brimmed hat carefully crafting the cabinetry with

hand tools while his horse and buggy wait patiently outside can be

appealing.  But it isn't quite accurate.

Jayco, in particular, advertises this Amish connection.

We came across their holding pen for trailers ready to

be shipped across country.  It was an open field with

space for rows and rows of trailers.  Only about half of

the rows were occupied, but it was interesting to see

rows of their high-end Designer fifth wheels and light-

weight Jay Feather travel trailers ready to go.

Directly across the narrow lane from this holding pen was an Amish farm, complete with a

large barn and several buggies parked out front.  The woman of the house was tending her

vegetable garden and the clothes line was full of clothes swaying in the breeze.  I was

fascinated by the juxtaposition of the simple living and home based values sandwiched into

the modern, mass market standards of the surrounding community.

We found this odd mix of

cultures on the road too, as the

horses and buggies fill all the

roads in the area.  We stopped

at the Rise 'n Roll Bakery and

were enchanted with what lay

inside.  A group of young Amish

were baking and selling their

goods.  The girls were singing together as they worked, and when

they stopped periodically to talk together they spoke German (we later

found out it is a dialect of Swiss-German).  Of course their English is

perfect as well, and the young boy at the cash register was utterly

charming as he offered us samples of the most amazing donuts I have

ever tasted.  There was an innocence and sweetness among those

teenagers at that bakery that I have rarely experienced elsewhere.

And what better place for sweetness than a bakery; the sugar coated delights were heavenly.  I

wanted so much to photograph the charming scene there: the girls in their bonnets laughing and

singing; the boy in his suspenders gently teasing them.  Instead, I took a picture of a little sign

they had hanging below the cash register:  "As you travel on life's pathway, may this always be

your goal: Keep your eyes upon the doughnut and not upon the hole!"

We took a fresh raspberry pie and

some donuts out to a little bench in

front of the bakery and watched the

Amish world go by for a while.  The

horses and buggies were more

common than the cars, and they moved

at quite a clip.  I was amazed looking at

one of my photos later to see that all

four of the horse's hooves were off the ground.  The Amish may not travel

long distances, but they have the same urgency to get where they are

going as we do.

I read later that in some Amish communities only the young use open-air

buggies, and they are used for courting.  That didn't seem to be the case

with this open-air buggy, but it sure looked like a fun way to get

around.  Of course they travel on all the state and US highways that we do, and those roads are maintained by the governments

that govern us as well as them.

The Amish pay all taxes except social security tax (because they never apply for social security, relying on families to take care of

their disabled and elderly instead) and Worker's Compensation (because they do not use insurance).  Again, both Social Security

and insurance would bind them too tightly to the community at large.  However, some hospitals have begun to offer special care for

the Amish when they are sick, and they have been participating in studies of genetic diseases and disorders, as most Amish today

are descended from just 200 original European ancestors, and genetic disorders have become an issue.

We found ourselves eating our way across Amish land as we stopped next at the "Deutsche Kase Haus," the Cheese Factory.

They had a seemingly infinite variety of cheeses, and all were available for sampling.  Mark was immune, because he doesn't like

cheese, but I tried almost all of them, and they were delicious.  I noticed that other tourists were stocking up on goodies, both here

and back at the bakery, and I discovered that many people come into

Amish country on a regular basis just to buy their amazing foods.

One fellow who was traveling through ("I come here twice a year every

year!") highly recommended that we stop at the Blue Gate Restaurant in

Shipshewana and have the "Amish Plate."  He said it would be one of the

best meals we'd ever have.

We didn't make it there, but we did get to Yoder Popcorn where we

bought a bag of Tender Tiny Whites.

Across the street we watched a man working his fields with a team of six

horses.  The notion of using manual labor to discourage individuals from

trying to outdo their neighbors by having a bigger farm was intriguing.

The very essence of western culture can be such a Darwinian survival-

of-the-fittest scramble to the top, where aggrandizement is revered and everyone

wants to stand out.  It was hard to imagine a culture where the drive for

achievement was capped.  We learned that the Amish don't go to school past

eighth grade, usually attending one-room school houses in their communities.  In

order to comply with the government's minimum age for leaving school, they simply

repeat 8th grade until they are the acceptable age.  Amish students score higher

than average on all standardized tests except vocabulary.

Down the road we saw a man working his field with a single horse pulling a cart

that he sat in, and which, in turn, towed a gas powered tractor.  Because it wasn't a

riding tractor, his farm size was naturally limited by his horse's stamina.

We did not see any churches in their communities, as they prefer to worship in

each others' homes, every other Sunday.

It was a perfect spring day, and every home had a prominent vegetable garden out front.

Almost every vegetable garden was being tended by a woman in her long dress and white

bonnet.  The division of labor between the fields and the homes was distinct.

Women also mow the grass in

the yard.  I stopped counting

after then 7th woman I saw

pushing a lawn mower.

These weren't little manual

rotary mowers like my brother

used to push in our tiny city

yard in Massachusetts.  These

were big gas mowers that

could really get the job done.  One thing we noticed is that extreme

obesity is not a problem with the Amish.  All that work around the home

and farm keeps them trim.

There are Mennonite communities in the area too, and they are much

more lenient in their interpretation of how to live humbly, simply and

without ties to the outside world.  At the local supermarket I watched a

group of women in long dresses and

bonnets filling their baskets with many

of the same goods we rely on, and

when they got outside they hopped in

a car and drove off.

Near the end of the tour we emerged

back into the familiar Indiana

countryside with red barns.  They were

beautiful too, but it was a sign we were

coming back to a society that is more

familiar.

HEARTLAND RV FACTORY TOUR

We enjoy factory tours, and we wanted to visit

Heartland RV, one of the very successful newcomers to

the fifth wheel market.  Having left the rundown looking

but elite Tartan yacht factory a few days earlier, what a

contrast it was to pull up to this modern building topped

with a proud sign and a new Mercedes parked out

front.  We walked inside, inquiring about a tour, and several people instantly scurried off and came back with a salesman for us.

He was clutching some papers and thrust them towards me as he said excitedly, "Sales are down 27%!"  I raised an eyebrow.

"We're number three in the industry!"  He handed me the papers, and sure enough, out of 30 or so manufacturers, where sales

were down 40-60% across the board, Heartland was third from the top for smallest decline in sales volume. What a sign of the

times that a 27% drop in sales would be news to brag about.

He led us on a brisk walk to the beginning of the line, explaining to us that Heartland's founders

had been in the RV industry since time immemorial, coming from Coachmen years ago and

starting several other RV enterprises before opening Heartland.  The place was abuzz with

activity.  Drills, saws, stacks of parts, people moving fast: it was like a movie set.  A feeling of

purposeful, focused ambition filled the air.  We came out into the sunlight where the line begins

with stacks of chassis made by Lippert.

Once inside, each chassis gets

its water and holding tanks and

wheels installed.  Then the

flooring is laid.

Unlike the traditional trailer

manufacturing techniques we

have seen elsewhere,

Heartland has a unique

method for getting the

trailers down the line.  Most

manufacturers line the trailers up

nose to tail and let them stand on

their own landing legs and wheels

as they do at a campground.  They

roll down the line all in a row on their

own wheels.  In contrast, Heartland

puts each chassis on a dolly system,

both the front landing legs and the

rear wheels.  They stand cheek-to-

cheek and roll down the line

sideways.  The trailers don't come

off the dollies until they leave the

building, fully assembled.

This allows Heartland to put

twice as many trailers on

each assembly line.  In

addition, each station on the

line has a scaffolding system

mounted to the ceiling that

can be lowered around the

trailer once it is in place to

allow workers easy access to

the high areas.

After the flooring is installed

on the chassis, the furniture

can be put in place.  The

furniture modules are largely pre-

assembled.

Then the walls are installed.

The gaskets for the slides are

installed next, and the windows

are put in place.

Then the slide-outs, which are

assembled and furnished

separately, are mounted in

place.

Last of all the front cap is

installed on the nose of the

trailer.

Finally, the trailers emerge into the

sunlight, ready for shipping to the

dealerships.

There is a lot of pride in this

bustling factory.  But when I asked

about warranties and repairs, it

didn't sound like the Heartland

factory wants to see their trailers

once they leave the plant.  Unlike

NuWa, which offers phenomenal

personalized service at the factory for both

in-warranty and out-of-warranty work,

resulting in a steady stream of loyal customers

visiting their plant in Chanute, Kansas,

Heartland's repair service is handled exclusively

by the dealers.

Elkhart is loaded with RV manufacturers, and most offer tours.  However, we

were ready to change gears and go up Michigan's west coast to visit some of the

cute waterfront towns that line Lake Michigan's shores.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

South Haven – Harbor Village

South Haven Michigan

South Haven's beautiful waterfront

South Haven Michigan

South Haven Harbor

Mark gets a quickie haircut

South Haven Michigan

South Haven's riverfront

South Haven Michigan beach

Fun on the beach

South Haven Michigan kayaking

A kayaker tests the waters

South Haven Michigan

Funky raised boardwalk in town

South Haven Michigan lighthouse South Haven Michigan drawbridge

Drawbridge to the inner harbor

Catching ducks - on film

Twilight over South Haven Harbor

Pirate ship ghosts past the lighthouse

South Haven Michigan lighthouse

Lovers watch the sunset

South Haven Michigan car show

Cool cars cruise the beach

South Haven Michigan lighthouse South Haven Michigan lighthouse

Wedding photos

South Haven Michigan lighthouse South Haven Michigan lighthouse South Haven Michigan lighthouse South Haven Michigan car show

I'll take it!

South Haven Michigan car show

Mark would prefer this one

South Haven Michigan car show South Haven Michigan car show

Dad at the wheel -- just this one time.

South Haven Michigan car show

South Haven, Michigan

Early June, 2009 - We left Elkhart, Indiana and started up the west

coast of Michigan.  We were in search of cute little waterfront towns, and

there is an abundance along Lake Michigan, each unique and

welcoming.  The first was South Haven.  The town straddles a small

harbor and a river channel lined with a pretty boardwalk leading down to

a small lighthouse.  We walked through town, admiring the small shops

and catching glimpses of the boats in the harbor.

Mark needed a haircut, so we turned in at the barber pole and he

got a quick clip.  With his new summer do making him feel lighter

and freer, we headed out to stroll along the riverfront.

Boats of all kinds were cruising in and out of the harbor, and as we

approached the pier we found there were two terrific beaches on either

side of the channel entrance.

We kicked our shoes off to feel the Michigan sand squeeze

between our toes, and watched the action on the beach.

Teenagers were strutting their stuff all around us, with babes in

bikinis perfecting their runway walks up and down the pier.

Back in town, we found a fun and funky wooden walkway

that climbed up and down and around the harborfront

shops.

There were little

eateries everywhere,

and a drawbridge

leading to the inner

harbor.

Big boats and small

boats maneuvered around each other,

and a young girl in a dinghy followed a

family of ducks trying to catch them

with her camera.

We found a small motel on the edge of

town, and when we commented on the

charm of this town she said, "Well, you

have to go down to the waterfront at

sunset.  Don't miss it.  The sun sets at

about 9:30, so get there

about an hour before and

you'll have plenty of time."

We've seen such stunning sunsets in the southwest, just

peering out our trailer's windows, that her insistence that

we go back to town and down to the beach for the sunset

that night struck me as kind of amusing.  The sky didn't

look especially promising for any kind of colorful display,

but we followed her advice anyway and returned to town

as the sun was slipping towards the lake.

What a spectacle awaited us.  We began walking towards the pier and

found ourselves surrounded by throngs of people heading down to the

beach to watch the sunset: young couples hand-in-hand; families with

kids romping around in excited circles; old folks with a hand on the

railing.  Everyone in town was making their way to the waterfront.

A restored pirate ship that had been

taking people out on lake rides all day

had one last sunset dinner cruise on

tap, and we watched her stately form

slip past the lighthouse in the dimming

light.

Some people spread out on picnic blankets, and

others just enjoyed the quiet moments as the sun

worked its magic.  Every swing and slide in the

playground was in motion with kids crawling all

over, and behind them the cars cruised up and

down and round and round the streets.

There was a car show scheduled for the next day,

and quite a few antique convertibles

showed up early as their proud owners

cruised the beach the way they did fifty

years ago.

A newlywed couple posed for

wedding shots along the pier

with the lighthouse in the

background, as the sun sank

lower and lower towards the

lake.

The ice cream stand was a hub of

activity all evening, and the evidence

was everywhere as nearby folks

wandered slightly off kilter down the

pier, head sideways, tongue licking,

while their eyes stared around their cones at the sinking sun.

Photographers of all ages staked out places on the beach to catch the sun slipping into the

water.  None of us cared about the sand filling our shoes as we stomped through the dunes to

get the best angle.  It was a great evening and a great show.

Once the sun had fallen into the distant waves, everyone on the beach quietly packed it up and

headed home.  As we walked back up towards town, surrounded by smiling people carrying

folded blankets and empty coolers, I felt as though we'd just left an outdoor concert.  Nature's

symphony.  The innkeeper had been right: we didn't want to

miss the sunset that night.

The next day was the car show.  Again, the whole town came

out for the event.  The streets were lined with beautifully

restored cars and admiring fans.  Mark's roots from the motor

city sure showed as we wandered from car to car and he

pointed out the finer points of each engine.  A peak under the

hood and he would suddenly ooh and aah and give me a

history of the engine and tell me which of his friends had

owned such a beautiful marvel of engineering back in the day.

To me they were all just shiny cars from another era, alhough I did like

the sporty little red Corvette convertible.  Mark's taste ran more

towards the muscle cars that just looked like plain old sedans to me.

But then he'd drop to his knees and point out the wrinkle wall tires and

tell of the time his friend put a $10 bill on the dash board and challeged

Mark to catch it as they peeled out.  Plastered to the passenger seat as

the rocket launched, there was no way he could reach that bill when it

flew up in the air.

We got talking with a fellow showing off his dragster.  He used to race it himself, but now it was a

father-son project, with him supplying the bucks and know-how and his son taking the wheel at the

races.

At the end of the day there was a parade

through town and we had a chance to see

each car in all its glory.  Some revved their

engines as they went by, although our

buddy in the dragster got a tow through

town instead.  There were prizes of all

kinds, and almost every car won

something.  We left South Haven in high

spirits and made our way north a few miles

to Saugatuck.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Soo Locks – Freighter Elevator

Soo Locks Sault Ste. Marie Michigan

The Soo Locks are the four waterways to the left. The

largest lock, the Poe, is second from the left.

Soo Locks Sault Ste. Marie Michigan

A small powerboat enters the lock from Lake Superior.

Soo Locks Sault Ste. Marie Michigan

The gates close behind the boat so it is now sitting in

a private bathtub.

Soo Locks Sault Ste. Marie Michigan

The boat takes a long line from the line handlers so it

can tie up to the side of the lock during its descent.

Soo Locks Sault Ste. Marie Michigan

The water has drained out of the lock and the gates

open so the boat can emerge onto Lake Huron.

Soo Locks Sault Ste. Marie Michigan

The 1,000' Walter J. McCarthy appears on Lake Huron

McCarthy aims for the Poe Lock which will raise it 21 feet to the level of

Lake Superior.

This is the biggest sized ship the locks can handle and it takes a

long time to get it situated in the lock.

The gates open for Maritime Trader, a smaller 670'

freighter which has shown up on Lake Superior.

Maritime Trader glides into the lock.

Line handlers appear on deck and on shore.

These guys make it look easy.

A line is walked towards the cleat on shore.

A line handler loops the line over a cleat.

Additional lines are led to other cleats.

Almost ready to close the gates behind the Maritime

Trader, we can see the bow of the Walter J. McCarthy

in the next lock over.

Maritime Trader begins its 21' descent from Lake

Superior to Lake Huron.

Meanwhile, Walter J. McCarthy is being raised 21'

from Lake Huron to Lake Superior.

The bridge towers over the back end of the ship.

The McCarthy rises higher and

higher while the Maritime Trader

sinks lower and lower.

The McCarthy emerges through the doors of the lock

onto Lake Superior

McCarthy steams off into Lake Superior.

Meanwhile, Maritime Trader turns on its engines and

churns the water in its lock as it heads out onto Lake

Michigan.

Maritime Trader heads off on the rest of her

journey on Lake Huron.

The Soo Locks: Lake Superior-Lake Huron, MI

Late June, 2009 - The maritime traditions run deep in the Great Lakes,

and after visiting the Hessel area and its many reminders of the wooden

boats of old, we took a trip to the Soo Locks where modern freighters

transit between Lake Superior and Lake Huron.

The Great Lakes offer a relatively easy way to transport goods from one

region to another.  Some 11,000 freighters ply the waters each year,

moving tons of raw materials, mostly iron ore, coal, stone and grain (in

2008 shipping was down 45%).  Lake Superior sits a little higher above

sea level than all the other lakes, and in the early days of the fur

trappers, the only way to get your canoe from Lake Superior to Lake

Huron was to carry it past the rapids of the St. Mary's River.  This

method of "jumping" the river is said to have inspired the French to

name the area "Sault Ste. Marie" ("sault" meaning "jump").  In 1797 the

first lock system was built (on the Canadian side) so that ships could

float between Lake Superior and Lake Huron, and eventually the French

"sault" morphed into "Soo."

There is a fantastic visitors center and large viewing area at the Soo

Locks.  As we stood there waiting for some action, suddenly a small

open powerboat with four people in it drove into the lock.

We watched with fascination as the doors slowly closed behind the little

boat and a line handler gave them a line to tie onto their boat.

Slowly the water in this bathtub-like lock began to drain out and the

little boat disapeared from view.  The locks operate entirely on gravity,

as water either pours into the lock from Lake Superior or drains out of

the lock into Lake Huron.  Eventually the gates opened at the other end

of the lock and we caught sight of the little boat motoring onto Lake

Huron.  What a cool excursion for them!  It had taken all of 15 minutes

or so, and we found out later that for recreational boaters transiting the

locks doesn't cost a dime.  Just show up and the magic happens!

We were satisfied to have seen Soo Locks in action, and we were

about to leave when the lady at the visitors center said, "You really

should stick around.  There are going to be two huge freighters in

these locks at the same time in about an hour."  One of the ships

would be the 32-year-old, 1,000 foot freighter Walter J. McCarthy, one

of just forty ships of that size that works the Great Lakes.

Before long, the McCarthy showed up in the distance,

gliding towards us from Lake Huron.  It would be

entering the Poe lock, the largest of the locks and the

second lock out from our viewing area.  It was traveling

from Lake Huron into Lake Superior, so it would be

riding the lock system's "elevator" up 21 feet to the

level of Lake Superior.

It fit very snugly into the lock, and the handlers took an

especially long time getting the ship situated before they

closed the doors behind it.  It looked to me like there was

barely a foot or two to spare between the two ends of the ship

and the doors at either end of the lock.

Meanwhile, the

Maritime Trader,

a smaller ship of

just 594 feet,

showed up in

the distance

coming in the

opposite direction

from Lake Superior.

The gates opened

and the ship slid into

place.

The line handlers on the ship and on

the shore loosely looped the lines

around enormous cleats.  It all

seemed very casual and easy for

them, but the hundred or so people in

the viewing area were all hanging

over the railings, excitedly snapping

photos every few seconds.

Once positioned correctly, the doors

of the locks were closed behind the

Maritime Trader, the water began to

drain out of the lock, and the ship

slowly descended to the level of Lake

Huron.

Looking across the deck of the

Maritime Trader, we could see more

and more of the McCarthy in the

next lock as water filled that lock

and the ship was raised to the level

of Lake Superior.

Eventually, the water in the lock holding the McCarthy was even with

the water of Lake Superior, the doors of the lock opened, and the

freighter steamed out.

Simultaneously, the Maritime Trader had descended all the way

down, and the doors of its lock opened onto Lake Huron.  The water

in the lock churned behind it as it started its engines and moved out in

the opposite direction onto Lake Huron.

A few days after we left the Soo Locks, construction crews

broke ground on a pair of dams that will hold back the waters of Lake Superior for the next few

years while the two oldest and smallest locks are rebuilt into a single brand new big one.  Only

one of the three currently active locks can handle a 1,000 foot ship (the lock where the McCarthy

had been), so this new lock will allow more of the 1,000 footers to get between the two lakes.

Interestingly, the same thing is happening at the Panama Canal.  Rather than three single lock

systems like the Soo Locks, the Panama

Canal is a huge system of three

channels that moves ships through a

series of 26 locks separated by a lake.

It takes the ships up 13 levels through

the first 13 locks, sends them across the

lake under their own power and then

lowers them 13 levels through 13 more

locks to the ocean on the other side.  In Panama, a new lock system is

being built parallel to the other three to support the mammoth modern

supertankers that ply the world's oceans today.

Our visit to the Soo Locks capped off our time in the Upper Peninsula.  It

was time to make our way south again, this time along Michigan's eastern

coast where we visited some choice shoreside spots along Lake Huron.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

North Lake Michigan – Alluring Coastal Towns

Charlevoix, Michigan

Charlevoix, Michigan...

Charlevoix, Michigan

...flowers and charm

Charlevoix, Michigan Harbor

Charlevoix's Harborfront park

Charlevoix, Michigan fountain

Summertime !!

Charlevoix, Michigan painted park bench

Lighthouses on a park bench

Charlevoix, Michigan lighthouse

Charlevoix Lighthouse

Charlevoix, Michigan lighthouse

A boat waits for the drawbridge to open.

Charlevoix, Michigan lighthouse sailbot

The channel leads from Lake Michigan to Charlevoix

Harbor

Charlevoix, Michigan lighthouse sailboat and drawbridge

The drawbridge lets sailboats pass through.

Charlevoix, Michigan beach

The town sports a beachside playground.

Lake Michigan's clear water

Lake Michigan's clear water: turquoise and inviting.

Lilacs were in bloom.

Petunia beds escorted us out of town for miles.

Harbor Springs, a sparkling gem on Lake Michigan

Harbor Springs, a sparkling gem on Lake Michigan

Harbor Springs, Lake Michigan Harbor Springs, Lake Michigan sailing lessons

Local kids drop their bikes and bags to take sailing lessons.

Harbor Springs, Lake Michigan sailing lessons Harbor Springs, Lake Michigan wooden boat

Beautiful wooden boats were everywhere.

Harbor Springs, Lake Michigan wooden boat

Harbor Springs' waterfront park

Harbor Springs, Lake Michigan

Have a seat and stay a while...

Harbor Springs, Lake Michigan Harbor Springs, Lake Michigan

Large equestrian estates fringe Harbor Springs.

The Tunnel of Trees scenic drive Michigan

The Tunnel of Trees

Macinaw City, Gateway to Macinac Island.

Macinaw City, Gateway to Macinac Island.

Charlevoix, Harbor Springs & The Tunnel of Trees

Mid-June, 2009 - We continued our tour along the beautiful Lake Michigan coast, leaving

Traverse City and making our way to Charlevoix.  I was amazed at how many quaint,

peaceful and picturesque villages perch along these shores.  Charlevoix has a lovely park

along the harbor in the center of town, and it was lined with bright petunias in beds along

the ground and in hanging flower baskets.

A small stretch of grass leads to a small marina,

and we walked along the docks soaking up the sun

and talking to whatever boat owners we could find.

There is an outdoor concert pavilion as well, and we

could imagine many a balmy summer night sitting

there listening to music.

Some kids were making the most of the park's fountains, trying to

stomp out the various spigots of water as they shot up and then

clustering around the big fountain.  I could sympathize with the little girl

on the edge who was freezing.

There is a

sense of

whimsy in this

town, and one

park bench is

adorned with

colorful

paintings of

Lake

Michigan's

lighthouses.

We found the

Charlevoix

lighthouse at

the end of a

very long

channel that

leads from the open lake waters to the tiny inner harbor.  It was a perfect

day for strolling along the channel's boardwalk and, as we walked, a few

sailboats made their way in and out of the harbor.

A drawbridge separates the channel from the inner harbor, and when it is

scheduled to open all the sailboats scurry to get through.

At the end of

the channel

there is a town

beach with a

playground.  I

could easily

imagine many

happy summer

days spent

here.

Everywhere we

went I was startled by the clarity of the water.  Lake Michigan's water is

turquoise, much like the Caribbean, and is extremely clear.

Lilacs were in bloom.  They are one of my favorite spring flowers, and

they had already faded down south around Detroit.  We both buried are

noses in their fragrant clusters.

All of these

towns were

places where

we could have

easily stayed

for the

summer, but

we pushed

north on our

tour.  The

charming, whimsical air of Charlevoix stayed with us for a long time.  The

road out of town was lined on both sides with beautiful petunia beds.  It

made for a lovely drive.  After watching this continuous flower bed escort

us for at least three miles, I just shook my head in amazement.  That's a

lot of flowers.  This town is truly loved by its residents.

The next stop was Harbor Springs, a tiny village on the

water's edge.  It is an upscale town that boasts some

beautiful Victorian homes that were meticulously

maintained.

We arrived just as the

kids were running down

from the yacht club to

prepare their little

sailboats for sailing

lessons.

The area was lined with bikes and backpacks, and the

kids made quick work of getting the sails up and getting

the boats off the dock.  What a priceless, fun filled

summer lay ahead for those kids.

One thing we had noticed in every harbor in our travels was the large

numbers of wooden boats, all in beautiful condition.  Harbor Springs was

no exception, and this boat really turned our heads.  The woodwork was

pristine, with shiny varnish that was deep and lustrous.

We didn't realize until a few days later that one of the nation's three

major wooden boat schools was just a hundred miles north in the

Upper Peninsula.  No wonder the many gorgeous wooden boats here

in Harbor Springs were so beautifully crafted and maintained.  There

was plenty of skill and knowledge about wooden boats in the area.

Like so many other waterfront villages along this coast, Harbor Springs has a pretty park

overlooking the bay.  Yet again we felt we could stop and spend the rest of the summer right

here in blissful tranquility.

This town is very posh, and not only do

the fortunate residents spend time on

their boats, but they also enjoy

equestrian entertainment, tennis and

other country club pursuits during their

leisure time.

We passed some beautiful country

estates on the way out of town.  In many

ways it felt like we had just spent a few

hours observing a way of life that may

be fast disappearing in this oh-so-busy

workaday world of ours.  It felt like a

gentleman's town from

another era, especially with

so many stunning wooden

boats dating back to the mid

1900's.

Route 119 leading out of

town is one of Michigan's

scenic byways called the

Tunnel of Trees.  For an

hour we drove along

through this winding,

green one-lane tunnel,

weaving our way under a

thick green canopy of

leaves.  Occasionally there were glimpses of the lake on our left or of small log cabins tucked

back into the woods on our right, but for the most part it was a curvy, narrow road, encased in

tree limbs.

At first the trees

were all deciduous,

but as we drove we

came across a few

clusters of skinny

pines.  Some historic plaques explained a little about the

area.  One spot, Devil's Elbow, had been a spring in a

ravine where the Indians believed local spirits made their

presence known in the wee hours of the night.  Another,

L'Arbre Croche, was the name the French gave to this

whole Tunnel of Trees region, so named because of a

huge crooked tree that towered above everything.

We emerged into daylight and made our way towards Macinaw City, the northernmost point of Michigan's mittened southern

peninsula.  It is the "Gateway to Macinac Island," the famed island where only foot and bicycle traffic are allowed.  However, we

took the other road and headed over the Macinaw Bridge to Michigan's Upper Peninsula instead.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Upper Peninsula (MI) – Cute Towns & Fine Craftsmanship

Macinaw Bridge Michigan Macinaw Bridge Michigan

Macinaw Bridge

Upper Peninsula St. Ignace Michigan Lighthouse

View from our motel room.

Upper Peninsula St. Ignace Michigan Lighthouse

St. Ignace Lighthouse at dusk.

Upper Peninsula St. Ignace Michigan Upper Peninsula St. Ignace Michigan boardwalk Hessel Michigan Upper Peninsula

Welcome to Hessel

Hessel Michigan Upper Peninsula

An urban bookstore in the

most remote setting.

Hessel Michigan Upper Peninsula Hessel Michigan Upper Peninsula

100 year old lilac bush in all its glory.

Woodland jewels: lillies-of-the-valley.

Hessel Michigan Upper Peninsula

Hessel is a quiet village.

Hessel Michigan Upper Peninsula

Lazy afternoons watching the small bay over a beer.

Wooden boat show Wooden boat show

A 1942 Chris Craft perfectly restored.

Wooden boat show Great Lakes Boat Building School

Great Lakes Boat Building School

Great Lakes Boat Building School

All students build a flat-bottomed skiff.

Great Lakes Boat Building School

Planks waiting to become boats.

Great Lakes Boat Building School

Yet another coat of varnish dries...

Great Lakes Boat Building School

A 32' footer is prepped for

shipment to Harbor Springs

Pasties

Pasties -- meat-and-veggie pies I first

tasted in Australia

Snowmobile sign

Snowmobiles are the best

vehicle come winter.

UP farm

Sprawling farms grace the landscape.

sandhill cranes

Two sandhill cranes poke along

down a dirt road.

Lake Superior

Lake Superior's forbidding shoreline.

Lake Superior

Lake Superior Ice-water.   How did those girls

manage to go in all the way?

Upper Peninsula - St. Ignace & Hessel

Mid-June, 2009 - We left the cute, warm, Northern Lake Michigan coastal towns and ventured over the Macinaw Bridge to the

rather forbidding Upper Peninsula.  The bridge is a magnificent structure, and as we crossed it Mark told me a little about this other

side of Michigan.  The "Yoopers," inhabitants of the UP, are a breed apart.  They can withstand truly frigid winters and take great

pride in being from a vast land that shares little with the urban jungle of Detroit or the gentrified small towns of the warmer regions

to the south.  There is a ruggedness here, an almost frontier quality, that increases dramatically the further you get from the

Macinaw Bridge.

We didn't get too far.  The

small town of St. Ignace

beckoned to us just after we

crossed the bridge.

Bypassing the very elegant

waterfront Best Western that

advertised, "We aren't

expensive, we just look that

way," we stayed instead at a

small inn overlooking the

lighthouse.  Several motels

were closed permanently, and

those that were open had few

patrons.

We were the only visitors at our motel for the night, and we had our pick

of any room we wanted.  Given that opportunity, I wanted to make sure

our picture window framed the lighthouse just right.  Mark and the inn

keeper shared some sidelong glances and rolled eyes as I vacillated

between two rooms, popping in and out of each one several times.  "You

should see her pick out a table at a restaurant..." Mark sighed with a

smile.

Later on he agreed

it was worth it:  as

the sun set and the

lighthouse slowly

winked at us

during the evening,

we both grabbed

our cameras.

St. Ignace has

a long wooden

boardwalk that

meanders along the edge of the harbor.  We walked along it the next

morning and found a swan and its babies paddling in the water.

A seagull surveyed the scene and eyed me up for breadcrumbs.  I

threw out a few and within seconds I was surrounded by the whole

flock and engaged in a wild game of catch.  I would throw pieces of

bread as high in the air as I could, and the gulls would swoop by and

effortlessly catch the bread in mid-air in an amazing aerobatic

display.

Back in Traverse City, along the

northern part of Lake Michigan, we

had met Liz Fels who was staging an

exhibit of her photography.  She was

from the tiny town of Hessel in the

UP, and she recommended that we

stop by her bookstore/gallery when

we got up that way.  Hessel's

welcome sign made the town seem

like a happening place, but when we

got there we found a lovely, sleepy

little hamlet that boasts just a handful

of shops and an eatery or two.

It wasn't hard to find "The Village

Idiom," Liz's bookstore/gallery, and

what a find it was.  For any

enthusiastic reader spending time in

the raw lands of the UP, this store,

brimming with used books, is a rare jewel.

Not only is there space to unwind your mind inside with shelves of

unusual titles and a gallery of pretty photographs, but there is space

outside to take your new read, relax, and check it out under the sun.

When I commented on how beautiful all the lilacs were around town, she

took me to her back yard where there is a 100 year old lilac tree.  It was

immense and it was in full bloom.

I had a field day with flowers in this town.  A few doors down from the

bookstore I found a huge patch of lilies-of-the-valley.

You don't spot these forest gems too often, and Mark and I

both laid down to get a whiff of their heady scent.  A group of

cyclists going by stopped and gathered around us to see why

we were sprawled out on the sidewalk.  Ah, they nodded to

each other knowingly.  Lillies-of-the-valley... Of course!

Further down towards the harbor I found more flowers planted

along a whimsical, nautical fence.

The pace in this village is slooow, and

the air has a sense of contentment

and remoteness.

Visitors come here to let the cares of

the world slip away, and there is no

tourist hype or brochures of

prospective activities.

Long, quiet happy hours spent

overlooking the tiny bay and watching

the rare person working on their boat

is about as busy as it gets.

Hessel is the home

of a big antique

wooden boat show,

and we found a few

down in the

boatyard.  Too

bad we wouldn't

be here in

August to see

the event.

A fellow at the

boatyard

proudly showed

us Shotsie, a

1942 Chris Craft that looks like it just came out of the showroom.  The

rich varnish, immaculate engine and new-looking controls inspired

images of young people of another era enjoying an afternoon on the

water.

We strolled around the water's edge and admired several beautiful old boats.  I can remember

boats like these (not quite as pristine!) from when I was a very little girl on the beach in New

England, and Mark remembers aunts and uncles taking him for rides in boats like these on Lake

St. Clair.

A little further north of Hessel, in Cedarville, we found the heart of this wooden boat culture:  The

Great Lakes Boat Building School.  Set in a huge barnlike building, the doors were thrown wide

to let in the sun and spring air, and we peeked inside.

Offering an intensive two-year

program, students attend all-day

classes five days a week (with

summers off).  They range from

young people looking for career skills

to retirees looking for personal

fulfillment.  The $10,000/year tuition

puts you in a class with just a handful

of other students, mastering this craft

under the attentive tutelage of highly

qualified instructors.

In Year 1, all of the students build

the same boat, a flat bottom

double-ended skiff, which the

school then sells when it is

completed.  Selling these exquisitely crafted boats

supplements the school's income and helps keep the

tuition from being even higher.

There were boats in several stages of completion, and

outside was a gorgeous 32' boat that had taken two

different student classes two years to build.

The first class had laid the planks and shaped the hull,

and the second class had done the finishing work.

Now it was on a trailer, ready to go to Harbor Springs, home of the

lucky folks who had commissioned the school to build it.

Stopping for a snack, we discovered a local delicacy in the UP is

"pasties."  I hadn't seen these meat-pie treats since I was in

Australia in the early 1990's.  Down Under they call these yummy

personal-sized flakey crust encased meat and veggie pies "pahs-

ties."   Here in the UP they were called "pass-ties" but they were the

same delicious mini-meals that were probably brought to both

regions by Cornish immigrants many years ago.

We drove straight north across the UP, making a bee-line for Lake Superior.  The

temperature had dropped as soon as we crossed the bridge into the UP, and there were

snowmobile signs everywhere.  We even saw someone wearing a t-shirt emblazoned with an

image of a snowmobile and the words:  "Summer Sucks."  This was Cold Country!  Brrr.

There are endless paths through the woods where you can snowmobile in the winter, and lots of

wide open farmland as well.

Mark spotted two large

Sandhill cranes strolling down

the road.  As with so much of

the wildlife we see, we tried to

get them to stop and pose so

we could get a clear photo,

but they had other ideas.

We had seen two of the Great

Lakes so far:  Lake Michigan

and Lake Erie, and I wanted

to dip a finger in Lake

Superior.  We drove straight

to the first coastal opening we

could find and ran down to the beach.  A family was

coming up the trail from the beach, the kids shivering in

wet bathing suits with beach towels wrapped around them.

One little girl told us excitedly (through chattering blue lips), "I went in four times!"  She was very

proud of her feat, and once I put a finger in I could see why.  It was like putting your hand in the

water that collects around the ice in a cooler.  My hand turned red and ached instantly.

I am sure the Lake Superior coast is stunning, but that little bit was enough for me.  We turned

south and headed back to our cozy hotel overlooking the lighthouse in St. Ignace, planning our

next outing to the Soo Locks.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

San Francisco & LA – The Sailboat Hunt is On!

Emery Cove Yacht Harbor

Emery Cove Yacht Harbor

Hylas 54 yacht

Some peope cruise in high style

Emeryville, California

Unusual flowers in bloom along the shoreline

Emery Cove Yacht Harbor

Extensive beds of ice plant flowers

accompanied us on our walks

Emeryville, San Francisco Bay, California Ventura California

Ventura California coastline

Harbor seal in Ventura Harbor California

A harbor seal teases a gull with a fish he caught

Mentryville Barn

Mentryville barn and chicken coop, built 1890's

Charles Mentry's house

Roses in front of Charles Mentry's house

Oil well equipment

Lizard in Pico Canyon

Butterflies and flowers

Unusual flowers

They were very large

View from one of the peaks

The trail is outlined in rocks

Shams, trail blazer and trail builder

Surrounded by chain link fence til it settles in, this Valley

Oak made the Guinness Book when it was moved 1/4 mile.

Emeryville & Valencia, California

April 18-May 13, 2009 - From Arizona, we ran up and down the

coast of California in mad pursuit of a sailboat.  We were driven

by the vision of a dream that had been developing for many

months:  traveling with our trailer each summer, as we have

been, and traveling by sailboat in the tropics each winter.

We're both converted desert rats, most recently from Phoenix, Arizona, and

we like it warm.  How warm?  A fellow once told me he turns on the air

conditioning in his rig when the indoor temperature hits 79 degrees.  For us,

that's when we start getting really comfortable.  Our a/c doesn't go on until it

hits 90.

We have struggled to find a warm, uncrowded place to wander during each

of our two winters of fulltiming.  We have ranged between southern Arizona

and Florida, but have done too much shivering.  We aren't alone in this

quandary.  When fulltimers meet each other, one of the first questions they

always ask is:  where do you spend the winter?  At first I didn't understand

why the seasoned veterans kept asking us that question, but now, after

wearing way too many layers for two winters, I understand.

Cruising in a sailboat

has been a longtime

dream for me, and

Mark has slowly come

to share that dream

too.

However, there are a lot of details to work out.  Shifting between two homes is

not easy, especially when each has to be put in storage for a period of time.

So, as our prospective boat purchases in California fell through, one by one,

this past spring, we tried to be more philosophical than disappointed, taking it

as a sign that we just weren't ready yet.  As we talked through the nuts-and-

bolts of our plan -- getting beyond our dreams of gazing at the scenic mountain

backdrops behind our rig each summer and snorkeling amid eagle rays and

sea turtles alongside our boat each winter -- we realized that our plan was very fuzzy.

This frustrating discovery came to us as we froze our tails off on San Francisco Bay

in May.  It was a bitter surprise to find that the Bay Area rarely gets much above 60

degrees at that time of year, and we got several weeks of almost daily rain to boot.

We got to know the tiny Emeryville peninsula on the east bay next to Oakland quite

well.  It is the one sliver of beauty in an otherwise industrial landscape of smoke

stacks, snarled traffic and congested urban living.

The marina there has an

interesting array of boats,

and we enjoyed getting to

know some of the

liveaboards who make it

their home.  Those folks

are some sturdy stock, as

the wind blew at 25-30

mph every day across the

bay, the fog and dark

skies hung around relentlessly, and the cold was that bone-chilling kind

whose icy fingers sneak past any and all layers of clothing you put on.

One retired couple had lived on their boat in the Bay for 17 years.

We took many walks, jogs and bike rides around the area, and

especially enjoyed the pink flowers on the ice plants that were in

bloom during our visit.  We left boatless, however, and made our

way down the coast to Ventura.  There we enjoyed a long stroll

along the beach and watched a harbor seal teasing a seagull.  He

had just caught a huge fish, and he repeatedly surfaced with the

fish in his mouth, taunting the gull.  Each time he lured the gull to

approach him, he would duck under the water out of reach.  This

went on for quite a while until the gull finally gave up and flew off.

In a way, we felt like that gull, tantalized by the prospect of a sailing

dream, but taunted by the vicious boat selling industry that barricades it.

We started looking for a boat as wide-eyed innocents to the boat buying

process.  In just a few weeks we got a bath-of-fire introduction to the

cutthroat world of lying, cheating and stealing that is sailboat brokerage

in the Golden State.

The stress of dealing with ruthless, unscrupulous brokers desperate for

a deal in a stalled industry in a failing economy finally got to us, and we

left.  Unfortunately, the stress chased us down I-5, and while turning in

to stop at Pyramid Lake, north of Los Angeles, for the night, the back of

the trailer lightly brushed the guardrail.  The damage didn't look like much,

but upon assessment by RV collision repair specialists in nearby Valencia

(what luck that there was such a place nearby!), it would take 7 weeks to

fix, most of that time spent waiting for parts.

This news took a while to digest.  We stayed in Valencia, north of the Los

Angeles tangle of freeways and insanity, for a few days, deciding what to

do.  We couldn't stay in the trailer once they began the repair work, as

their insurance did not allow it.  However, our insurance gave us some

money for "emergency" hotels.  We took a few day trips around the area

as we mulled over our options and waited for our insurance claim to be

processed.

The Valencia area is desert: no fog, hot

days and cool nights.  We hiked up Pico

Canyon, starting at the base in

"Mentryville," a former oil boomtown

founded by Charles Mentry who dug

California's first oil well here.

Some of the old equipment from this

first oil well still stands today.  Oil well Pico #4 was

the longest running oil well in the world when it

was capped (dug in 1876, capped in 1990).  It

was such a success that it prompted the formation of the Pacific

Coast Oil Company that became Standard Oil of CA which was later

acquired by Chevron.

As we hiked up the canyon we passed some

unusual critters and flowers on the way.  The

view at the top was well worth the climb.

As we walked we found the trail was neatly

marked by carefully placed stones.  Someone

had taken great pains to outline the best route

to the top.

Hiking down we met a mountain biker on his way up.  He introduced himself as

Shams, originally from Afghanistan many years ago.  He asked if we'd been to the summit.  Not quite.  He seemed disappointed,

explaining how the very steep section that had stopped us was actually very short and the view beyond that was spectacular.  He

then explained that he had built the trail over the last 14 years, grooming it, creating little stone outlines for the paths, so he and his

son and others would have a nice place to mountain bike.  There's a man who has made the most of his new home.

We drove to another area and saw the most enormous tree.  Standing back to admire it, I

noticed another person taking photographs of it too.

We got talking, and I learned that this tree, a Valley Oak, had been moved 1/4 mile to

make way for a road, and that he, Lee Lumis, had been the horticultural consultant

overseeing the move.  It took 18 months to relocate the tree, and required 126 hydraulic

lifts, 24" I-beams and a 43' diameter box for the root ball.  They had started the project and

then had to wait 6 months when the tree suddenly budded out and couldn't be moved.  He

had rotated it a bit from its original orientation, but it looked truly majestic in its new home.

Even though we were here by accident -- because of an accident -- we could still look at

each other and say, "what a cool area!"  As we gathered our thoughts about how best to

handle the upcoming seven weeks, we finally decided to fly out to Michigan to visit Mark's

family and do some sightseeing in a state we probably would never reach by fifth wheel.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lake St. Clair, Michigan – Quick Trip Abroad

Big Boy in Detroit Michigan

Big Boys are everywhere...

Coney Island hot dogs in Detroit Michigan

...Coney Island Hot Dogs are too

Despite the depressing news on TV, Spring had sprung on Belle Isle in downtown Detroit

Harsen's Island ferry Detroit Michigan

Harsen's Island Ferry holds 9 or so cars

Harsen's Island Detroit Michigan Harsen's Island Detroit Michigan Harsen's Island Detroit Michigan Harsen's Island Detroit Michigan - swan Harsen's Island Detroit Michigan

B&B in San Souci

Harsen's Island Detroit Michigan

Riverside Grocery

Harsen's Island Detroit Michigan

Storefront in San Souci

Smoke stacks on the Canadian side of the St. Clair River

Pretty homes along the river too...

Port Huron Michigan

Pt. Huron, Michigan (US) - Sarnia, Ontario (Canada)

Bridge

Mark buys us a basket of Bridge Fries - tasty!

Lake Erie coast of Canada

Classic red barns dot the landscape

Farm stand Lake Erie coast of Canada

Roadside farm stand on Lake Erie

Farm stand Lake Erie coast of Canada

Score!  Baked goods galore and veggie garden

treasures too.

Gobi fish trapping on Lake Erie

Trapping invasive Gobi fish for experimentation at the

University.

Lake Erie shore Canada

Lake Erie

Lake Erie harborfront Canada

Lake Erie harborfront

Windsor Canada

Returning to Detroit via Windsor

Lake St. Clair, Michigan

Late May, 2009 - We arrived from the Burbank, California airport to a wonderful, warm family

reception in Detroit, Michigan.  Mark hadn't lived there in 30 years, and since then had made

only short visits, so we had many great get-togethers ahead of us.  In between, we wanted to

squeeze in some sight-seeing, as I had never seen much of Michigan, and Mark's motorcycle

trips around the state were back in the days when he had long hair, short shorts, and Rock

hadn't yet been labeled "Classic."

We arrived in Detroit at an especially dark hour in the city's

history.  Chrysler was in bankruptcy, GM was headed that

way soon, and most people we visited were out of work.

Unfortunately, I forgot my camera as we toured some of the

amazing mansions that were built by the auto industry's

icons in the days when their profits flowed like wine.  The

sultans of that industry lived better than kings.  The opulence was breathtaking.  I could only

wonder what the factory workers thought in the early 1900's as they saw these castle-like

estates going up.  No wonder the unions became so strong: the profits were staggering and

the leaders weren't into sharing.

The auto industry was a cash cow that kept giving and giving and giving, for decades.  Eventually everyone had a piece of the pie,

and as the news anchors droned on about the industry's current woes, like the retirees losing their vision and dental benefits

(gasp!), we heard a few back stories about Generous Motors that flushed out the details.  From more than one person we learned

how folks on the line used to punch in at work, head to the bar for the day, and then punch out.  Or punch in, find a quiet spot to

sleep through their shift, and then punch out.  The party lasted for almost a century.  I couldn't help but wonder: how would the

founders of those companies feel if they saw their city today?  Where would their industry be now if those early leaders had instilled

a culture of productivity, cooperation and true generosity instead of one based on greed?

The story of Detroit's malaise filled the airwaves each night.  A mansion

that had sold in recent years for $15 million got auctioned off during our

visit for less than $5 million.  Half of the gorgeous estates we drove past

along the Grosse Pointe waterfront were for sale.  The once

unstoppable flow of profits had dried up.

Eager for some

pretty scenery, we

drove a circle loop

around Lake St.

Clair, the Detroit area

lake that sits between

Lake Huron to the

north and Lake Erie

to the south, dividing

its shores between

the US and Canada.

Harsen's Island was

our first stop, and we drove onto the ferry for the 10 minute ride to the

island.  Harsen's island is very rural at one end, with graceful homes

spread out along the lake.

At the other end, the village of San

Souci beckons visitors with charming

victorian B&B's, cute shops and a laid

back air.

We stopped at the Riverside Grocery

for lunch, watching some kids rolling by

on their bikes and a pair of young

lovers sitting side

by side gazing at

the boats in the

water.  This

seemed a perfect

place for languid

summer afternoons.

A little further up the coast we

walked around Marine City and

watched another ferry boat carrying

people across the river to and from

Canada.  We heard later that this is

the best place to cross the border,

as the lines are short.  Along the

river, both the Canadian side and US side have stretches

of gracious homes mixed with stretches of heavy

industry.

After spending some time on both sides of this river, it

seemed that there is a strong unity that bonds the people of this region, regardless of the

presence of an international border between them.  We saw homes flying both countries' flags

off their porches, and we saw posters with both flags crossed and the words: "United we

stand."  So it was odd, and sad, to see several US border patrol cars sitting on the US side

facing Canada.  We are accustomed to seeing them in southern California and Arizona, but

here they seemed out of

place.

Up in Port Huron we took

the bridge across to

Canada's small city of

Sarnia, Ontario.  The

lady at the visitors center

suggested we get some

Bridge Fries from one of

the vendors under the

bridge.  Served Canadian

style with vinegar, we found

her recommendation was

right on.  Yum!

Heading down the Canadian side of the St.

Clair River we felt ourselves relaxing.  The

homes are nicely spread out.  We stopped

at Bogey's Inn near the village of Sombra

for the night and ended up in their largest

suite for their regular motel room rate.  "Last

year at this time I was booked solid," the

proprietor said with frustration.  The night

we stayed we were the only tourists there.

We veered away from Lake St. Clair the next morning to catch a glimpse of Lake Erie.  The fertile

farmlands stretched for miles with classic red barns and homesteads dotting the green vistas.

Suddenly the beautiful shores of Lake Erie opened up before us.  The lake was turquoise and clear,

and the homes were perched high above the lake with rolling grass lawns stretching down to the water.

We stopped at a farm stand, thinking we'd grab some apples to snack on.  As

we approached, the luscious aroma of baked goodies wafted through the

door.  We stepped inside and were suddenly surrounded by pies, buns,

breads, cookies and the like -- along with fresh picked healthy veggies.  At

the sight of those pies Mark was in heaven.  "Wow!  I'm going to get one of

everything," he joked with the lady at the counter as his eyes darted from

table to table.  I wandered around looking for the one perfect snack, admiring

the rows of maple syrups and jams while I mulled over getting a muffin or a

scone or a mini sweet loaf.  When I walked over to the register with my lone

apple bran muffin, there was Mark with "one of everything" -- and two of

several things -- laid out across the counter in front of him.  He grinned at me

sheepishly and shrugged.  How often do you find a gold mine like this?

We piled our boatload of baked goods into the car and had a small

feast of pies and cookies while overlooking the lake's crystal waters

across the street.  There was an opening that led to the water, and we

wandered down to dip our toes in the lake.  Some University students

were trapping Gobi fish, an invasive non-native fish that they want to

remove from the lake.  They were

taking the Gobies back to the lab to

try to find some natural deterrent to

limit the spread of this unwanted

fish.  Unfortunately, though, the

Gobi's were proving especially

tricky to trap.

We stopped in a small harbor town

to stretch our legs, and continued

our slow journey back towards Windsor, Ontario and the

Detroit River.  Faced with another border crossing back to

Detroit, and not sure exactly what the rules were regarding

baked goods crossing the border, we stopped and gobbled

down as many of our remaining pies and pastries as we

could.  The strawberry-rhubarb pie was out of this world, and

we each slyly unbuttoned the top button on our pants to

make room for more.  But even stuffed to the gills, we still

had some pastries and pies to go.  We just had to risk losing

our booty the border.  Of course, in the end, although every

car in line at the border had its spare tire removed and

inspected, causing an hours-long traffic jam at the tunnel, no

one asked if we were bringing in any contraband pies.

After a few more days of family gatherings, we headed out

on a slightly longer sojourn into Ohio and Indiana.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lake Huron MI – Hydroplane Races and the Joseph S. Fay Shipwreck

Forty Mile Point Lighthouse Michigan

Forty Mile Point Lighthouse

Forty Mile Point Lighthouse Michigan

Peace and calm reign on this shipwreck strewn shore

Forty Mile Point Lighthouse Michigan beach Forty Mile Point Lighthouse Michigan freighter Calcite

Pilothouse from the freighter Calcite

Kitchen inside 40 Mile Point Lighthouse

Kitchen inside 40 Mile Point Lighthouse

Circular staircase up to the light

Shipwreck of the Joseph S Fay Joseph S Fay freighter Lake Huron

The Joseph S Fay in drydock before the

shipwreck.

Joseph S Fay freighter shipwreck Lake Huron

Remains of the wooden freighter

Joseph S. Fay.

Joseph S Fay freighter shipwreck Lake Huron Rogers City Michigan

Rogers City Michigan

East Tawas beach RV Park Michigan

An RV Park lines the East Tawas beach

East Tawas MI

Party Time!

East Tawas MI RV Park Bay City Michigan boat race

Hydroplane boat races in Bay City

Bay City Michigan boat race Bay City Michigan hydroplane boat race

Coming in for a pit stop

Bay City Michigan hydroplane boat race

Trailers and support crews for the race boats

Bay City Michigan hydroplane boat race

A raceboat is launched after some quick repairs

Bay City Michigan hydroplane boat race

The race is started from the dock in waves.

Bay City Michigan hydroplane boat race

Up close and personal

The German immigrant town of Frankenmuth Michigan

The German immigrant town of

Frankenmuth

The German immigrant town of Frankenmuth Michigan The Bavarian Inn Frankenmuth Michigan

The Bavarian Inn served 20 million dinners in 100

years

The Bavarian Inn Frankenmuth Michigan

Lake Huron, Michigan

Late June, 2009 - We left the chilly northern reaches of Michigan's

Upper Peninsula and the Soo Locks to travel down the Lake Huron

coast on the eastern shores of Michigan.  Lake Huron is the second

largest of the great lakes, and it didn't take us long to find a beautiful

spot:  Forty Mile Point Lighthouse.  Built in 1896, it was one of a chain

of lighthouses that guided the many merchant ships through these

difficult waters.

Originally named La Mer Douce (the sweet, or freshwater, sea) by

French explorers, the sweet sea of Lake Huron has displayed a mean

streak when it comes to deadly storms.  As of 2006, 1,200 shipwrecks

had been recorded in these waters.

Looking out on the placid turquoise waters, fringed with tall,

swaying grasses, it was hard to imagine such violent storms and

frightening wrecks.  The water was very shallow in front of the

lighthouse.  Looking closely, we could see fish jumping in the

shallows between the rocks.

Forty Mile Point Lighthouse park features the pilothouse from the

freighter Calcite.  You can climb around it and peek in the windows

at the huge ship's wheel.

There is also a flat

bottomed skiff similar to

the ones that are built by

students at the Great

Lakes Boat Building

School.

We wandered up to the

lighthouse and admired

another bunch of lilacs

yet again.  Just can't get

enough of these flowers!

Inside we found the kitchen was set up as it would have been when the lighthouse

keepers lived here and tended the light: simple, rustic living.  Down in the basement

was a fun display of old washing machines.

We climbed up the circular steel

staircase to the cramped space

that houses the French-built

Fresnel lens, and looked out at

the peaceful view.  A guide

came up after us and told us

the most amazing story of the

wreck of the freighter Fay in

October, 1905.

At the time, the Fay was a 34-

year-old and rather battered

wooden ship.  She was towing a

wooden barge, the Rhodes, that night,

southbound along the coast.  The

winds unexpectedly built to hurricane force and shifted

onshore, pushing the Fay towards land.  As the

captain turned the ship towards safer, deeper water,

the tow line snapped taut, and the barge suddenly

ripped the back end off the ship and floated free.  The

ship's captain desperately turned the remains of the

sinking ship back towards shore, and miraculously the

pilot house was swept up onto the

beach intact with all but two

officers safe inside (one man even

slept through the whole ordeal).

Despite all the drama that night,

including the drowning of the first

mate who was on deck when the

back end of the Fay was torn off,

the 40 Mile Point Lighthouse

keeper noted the shipwreck with

just a brief one-line entry in his

logbook.

The rest of the Fay landed on the beach a short distance from the lighthouse.  130 feet of its starboard side is still embedded in the

sand, the heavy wooden planks and steel spikes that held it together still plainly visible.  We walked around it in wonder.  27

wooden ships and 50 lives were lost in that one storm.  104 years and many other vicious storms have passed since then.

The lake is lower now than in past years.  Old photos show waves lapping over the hull as it sat

in shallow water.  I don't know whether lapping waves or hot sun, wind and snow erode wooden

shipwreck remains faster, but I'm sure in another 100 years very little will be left of this hull on

the beach.

Continuing down the coast, we

stopped at Rogers City where we

found yet another lovely waterfront

city park.  There are so many

wonderful public parks in Michigan

where you can enjoy the lakes.

Many miles further south we discovered East Tawas

where there was a fantastic RV park that hugged the

shoreline.

A string of RVs was backed up to the beach, and

there was a party atmosphere in the air.

The folks who got the prime spots along the beach

had set themselves up for a season's stay, building

elaborate stairways and decks off their RVs.  Beach

umbrellas, bikes and happy visiting grandkids were

the theme of this RV park.

We continued south to Bay City, situated on Saginaw

Bay in the nook of Lake Huron that forms the base of

Michigan's thumb.  During my stay in this state I

learned that when talking about Michigan geography

everyone whips out their left hand and points to the

spot they are referring to.

We arrived in Bay City on the day of

the hydroplane boat races.  You could

hear the buzz of their engines long

before spotting them on the river.

The racecourse was a simple oval,

and the whole town turned out for the

event.

We got a great view from the bridge

overlooking the river at one end, and

got a good look at these crazy craft as they

periodically left the race to come into

the dock for a pit stop.

We walked among the trailers and pit

crews and watched one boat come get

launched back onto the racecourse

after some quickie repairs.

The boats were lined up along

the docks and sent off in

waves.

What fun to be right there on the dock

when this boat pulled over and the

driver crawled out of the cockpit.

Our last stop in Michigan was

Frankenmuth, a town settled by

German immigrants in 1845 and

redecorated to celebrate this German

heritage in the 1950's.

Touristy, but fun anyways, we got a kick out of walking

around.

A plaque informed us that the Bavarian Inn is one of

the ten largest restaurants in the US and served some 20 million

meals over the century from 1988 to 1998.

The huge restaurants on both sides of the street proudly

advertised their famous chicken dinners.

After some more family gatherings, we headed back to the airport

and jetted back to resume our normal lives in our trailer.  We

hopped back in the Luvnest in Valencia, California and made a

beeline for San Diego, arriving just in time for their huge Mission

Bay July 4th bash.  After a few days there we decided it was time

to start our summer travels for real.  We crossed the scorching

California and Nevada deserts and made it to the cool, green mountains and glittering streams outside Ketchum, Idaho.