Mackinac Island Walkabout, Part 1

Posted on August 11, 2022 by admin

Things to know about Mackinac Island, Michigan.

It really is an island, about 4.3 square miles in Lake Huron, and not far from both the Lower and Upper Peninsulas of Michigan.
Most of the island is Mackinac Island State Park, but there is a town, and 470 or so people live there full time.
Mackinac is famed for allowing no motorized vehicles on its streets, except for a handful of emergency vehicles.
Regular passenger ferry services connect the island with the mainland; the ride takes about 20 minutes. The view of the Mackinac Bridge from the ferry is terrific.

The ferries from the mainland dock at the aptly named Main Street. The closer you are to Main Street on Mackinac Island, the more people there are. Even on a weekday. We arrived early in the afternoon of Tuesday, August 2. The day was sunny and warm.

Restaurants, retailers and hotels line Main Street, packing ’em in. No cars, but plenty of bicycles and some horse-drawn wagons ply the street, so best to walk on the sometimes shaded sidewalk.

Mackinac Island is a major tourist draw in our time, but that’s hardly new. People have been visiting for pleasure since the late 19th century. Just another thing Victorians started, among many.

At one end of the commercial strip is an entrance to Mackinac Island State Park. Atop the hill at that point is Fort Mackinac, relic of the moment in the late 18th century when sovereignty over the island wasn’t a settled matter.

Immediately under the fort is a grassy slope.

Popular, but not as crowded as Main Street. The view toward the water.

A bronze Marquette overlooks the slope.

So does Trinity Episcopal Church, built in 1882.

We’d toyed with the idea of renting bicycles to get around the island, but the climb up the hill toward the fort, a fairly steep bit of hoofing, put that idea to rest.

Much later in the day, we came to realize that the thing to do with a bicycle is to ride the eight miles or so of Michigan 185, the only road in the state system without motorized transport, and which runs around the edge of the island. Something to do if I ever come back, and am healthy enough for it.

Or you could walk your bike up to the top of the hill, and ride around up there on some flat paths. By the time you get to this part of Mackinac — not really that far from Main Street — the crowds have thinned out.

We walked a few of the paths, including one that our map said would take us to “historic cemeteries.” Right up my alley. We passed through one of them, St. Ann’s Cemetery. Burials have taken place there since the mid-19th century, as a Catholic cemetery that replaced one closer to the shore.

By this time, we were the only (living) people around. Cemeteries seem to have that effect, even near popular tourist destinations.

Frederik Meijer Gardens and Sculpture Park

Posted on August 10, 2022 by admin

You know, I said to my friends as we entered the Frederik Meijer Gardens and Sculpture Park in Grand Rapids on the second day of our trip, this place seems larger than it used to be.

Just an impression I couldn’t quantify on the spot. The place just felt larger.

My instincts were right. Nearly five years ago, The Art Newspaper published an item about the Meijer Garden’s 2010s expansion:

“[Meijer Gardens] is getting a major upgrade thanks to a successful $115m fundraising campaign, which will allow it to show off recent acquisitions and support the 750,000 annual visitors it has welcomed for three consecutive years — nearly four times the number it was designed for when it opened in 1995.

“The four-year building project, which launched in September [2017], includes new education and visitor centres, an expansion of the current indoor exhibition space and a transportation centre on the Meijer Gardens’ 158-acre main campus, designed by the New York-based Tod Williams Billie Tsien Architects.”

As we wandered through the new visitor center, we passed sweeping high ceilings, sizable sculptures, meeting space, a gift shop, an auditorium and a Chihuly.

When you get a chance to see a Chihuly, take a good look.

That was just our start of gazing at sizable works of art — and sizable plants. The new visitor center leads straight to the Lena Meijer Conservatory.

Outside is just as lush in summer.

A little fauna to go with the flora.

Sculptures rise amid the greenery, or are tucked away in small glades, or have their own plazas. Some I remembered, some I didn’t.

Sean Henry’s “Lying Man” (2003) always watches the zenith, rain or shine.

“Neuron” (2010) by Roxy Paine didn’t exist the last time I came this way. But I recognized the artist right away.

“Male/Female” by Jonathan Borofsky (2004).

Also easy to recognize: the blobbity stylings of a Henry Moore. “Bronze Form,” in fact, a 1985 casting, so only a year before the sculptor died.

I really liked this one: “Iron Tree” by Ai Weiwei (2013). Iron, but also stainless steel.

I remember these figures. They’re a little hard to forget. “Introspective” (1999) by Sophie Ryder.

“Plantoir” (2001) by Claes Oldenburg and Coosje van Bruggen. Oldenburg died just last month. Also familiar; their work tends to stand out.

“Aria” (1983) by Alexander Liberman.

That’s only a small sample of the small sample of artwork we saw. Much more was in the greenery or entirely out of sight, off in another part of the garden. We spent most of the afternoon at Meijer Gardens and somehow only passed through a corner of the place. Another section, for instance, includes a Japanese garden developed since the last time I was here. We didn’t make it. That just means, of course, I need to go back to Grand Rapids.

Before we left, we made sure we saw “The American Horse” (1999) by Nina Akamu.

” ‘The American Horse’ was created by famed animaliere, or animal sculptor, Nina Akamu,” the Meijer Gardens notes. “The work was inspired, in part, by one created by Renaissance master Leonardo da Vinci for the Duke of Milan in the late 15th century.

“This project, championed by Fred Meijer in the late 1990s, resulted in two casts of the 24-foot monument — one for Meijer Gardens and one for the city of Milan, Italy. In addition to inspiration from Leonardo, Akamu was motivated by the history of equine imagery and the study of horses.”

“The American Horse” is 14 years older than the last time I saw it —

— but none the worse for wear, which suggests regular (and costly) maintenance.

St. Francis Sculpture Garden

Posted on August 9, 2022 by admin

The last day of July proved to be warm and clear in Grand Rapids, after a storm had rolled through the night before. Mid-morning breakfast proved to be at a place called Lucy’s, an adaptive re-use of a large neighborhood grocery store made into a restaurant, where I had a delicious meat-vegetable-egg creation. Everyone else enjoyed their breakfast orders as much as I did.

We planned to visit the Frederik Meijer Gardens & Sculpture Park after breakfast. The last time I’d been there was more than 14 years earlier, and I’d strongly suggested we see it.

While looking for the Meijer location on Google Maps, we noticed a different sculpture garden on the way: St. Francis Sculpture Garden. None of us, me included, had heard of it, but we were intrigued enough to add it to the day’s destinations.

In full, Saint Francis of Assisi Sculpture Garden.

The 11-acre site is owned by the Dominican Sisters at Marywood, whose buildings are visible nearby.

A nonprofit created the garden, with sculptures by Mic Carlson, a Grand Rapids artist. Twenty-four bronzes of St. Francis, in fact. Some are life-sized.

That is supposed to a joyous dancing Francis, which I’ve run across before, but he looks more demented than anything else.

Actually, so does that one. Mic might be a talented sculptor, but those faces of his are a little odd.

Other depictions of the saint — most of them — are small enough to be on a tabletop. At at the sculpture garden, they are on various kinds of pedestals, with signs nearby explaining which aspect of Francis is being illustrated.

Such as Francis and Brother Wolf, telling the famed story of Francis persuading a vicious wolf to change his ways.

Francis and Clare, founder of the Poor Clares.

Besides the artwork at the sculpture garden, one can enjoy pathways through lush grounds, at least in the summer.

A grotto.

And a gazebo-like structure.

Must be an ecclesiastical gazebo.

Around Lake Michigan ’22

Posted on August 8, 2022 by admin

A little more than a week ago, I took a pretty good picture of three dear friends, two of whom I’ve known for over 45 years. From left to right, Tom, Catherine and Jae.

We were on the second day of our drive around Lake Michigan, counterclockwise, which took us from metro Chicago through northern Indiana, Grand Rapids and parts of western Michigan, Petoskey and environs, Mackinac Island, both Sault Ste. Maries, parts of the eastern Upper Peninsula, greater Green Bay and other parts of eastern Wisconsin, and back to metro Chicago.

Leaving on July 30 from our starting point at my house, we drove my car on crowded and less crowded Interstates, state and county highways, and a host of smaller roads, including National Forest roads cutting through lush boreal territory. Returning yesterday to my house, my friends flew back to Austin today; they had arrived from Austin two days ahead of the trip.

We’d planned the trip via email and Zoom, beginning back in early spring. I was the informal guide, making suggestions and offering bits of information I knew from previous visits to Michigan, upper and lower. But my friends were hardly passive in the course of our travels, digging up information via cell and making their own suggestions based on their own familiarity with some of the territory. Catherine had overseen arranging our accommodations, and everybody drove at one time or another.

We stayed in five different peer-to-peer rental accommodations along way, all entire houses that could provide us enough bedrooms, bathrooms, food prep and dining areas, and, in most cases, space to sit outdoors, once with a view of the waters of Green Bay.

Enjoying the outdoors was one of the main goals of the trip. For me, certainly, but especially for them, escaping the high heat of central Texas. They often remarked on the cool air and reveled in it, checking periodically to learn the temps at home. Three digits in Austin wasn’t usual. I don’t think got higher than 85 F. where we were. Standard night temps in both Michigans generally came in the 60s F.

Two meals a day was the norm: a mid- to late-morning breakfast and a late afternoon dinner, or a very late breakfast and a late dinner, at least as these things are reckoned in North America. So on many days, our meal schedule was more like that of Mexico City.

Food variety has trickled down to the lakeside and inland burgs of the upper Upper Midwest, though perhaps not quite as much as in large metros. Whitefish, the star of a lot of UP menus, had top billing in some of our meals, but we also enjoyed hamburgers and other meat — including one tasty UP pasty — pizza, pasta, breakfast fare, bar food, Italian and Asian, plus chocolates and fruit, such as Michigan cherries and UP jam. We prepared our own meals sometimes, did takeout a few times.

Coffee by morning, wine by night, though I only participated in the latter. Familiar wines were available in every grocery store we visited, and my friends sought out coffee ground as locally as possible: one bag from Sault Ste. Marie, for instance.

Meals and wine drinking were a source of convivial times, but hardly the only one. We talked and conversed and bantered at the table, as we headed along roads and as we walked trails. Shared personal histories were revisited, stories of our long periods apart were relayed, and opinions shared. Odd facts were floated. There was punnery, especially on the part of Tom, a born punster.

We visited one city of any size, Grand Rapids, and many smaller places, a few museums, a sculpture garden, some riverfronts, shopping streets and resort areas, a grand hotel, an historic fort, churches, a Hindu temple, a wooded cemetery, two lighthouses, forests, clearings and beaches, a massive sand dune, waterfalls, rapids and the clearest pond I’ve ever seen. The three Great Lakes we saw stretched to empty horizons — except when Canada or the opposite shore of Green Bay were visible. We crossed the Mackinac Bridge once and the international bridge between the Sault Ste Maries twice.

We walked near the shores of Lakes Superior, Huron and Michigan. The northern woods and the beach ecosystems were fully flush here in late summer. Jae, who knows a good deal about flora, shared some knowledge about the flowers, trees and fungi we saw in profusion.

Though we caught a few showers in daytime, and the last day was mostly rainy, most of the storms rumbled through at night, adding to the restfulness of whatever sleep we each had. None of the storms were lightning-and-thunder dramas, but some were impressive in their downpour. My friends expressed their satisfaction with the cool light winds that often blow in corners of the UP.

There were a number of travel firsts, mostly for my friends. This was the first time any of them had been to the UP, and the first time they had seen Lake Superior, whose aspect I’m so fond of, and their first visit to the northern part of the Lower Peninsula. The trip included Tom’s first known visit to a national park, though later we determined that it was probably his second park. Also, it was the first time two of them had ever been to Canada, since we popped across the border for one night in Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario.

For me, a mix of new and places I saw long enough ago that they were almost like new.

When I dropped off my friends at O’Hare earlier today, we agreed that they trip had met expectations. And more.

Retail Churn

Posted on July 25, 2022 by admin

In my photo file marked July 2012, I found an image from the last days of Ultra Foods here in the northwest suburbs. It was a store I knew fairly well. It was a genuine discounter, and sometimes had oddities like Black Jack and Clove gum or frosted flakes from Latin America.

About to close. A Tony’s supermarket replaced it a little while after and has been in business in that location since. I don’t have any after pictures to go with this before image. All of the Ultra Foods in the Chicago area, its entire market, seem to be gone, closing in the years after this one.

Up the road a piece — the same large suburban artery — was the site of another closed grocery store, though I forget which. Dominick’s, maybe. Soon Mariano’s would be there.

Marino’s has been in business since then. I don’t have any after images for this before picture. I go there more often than Tony’s. Got some fine pies, Mariano’s does.

Three More Walker’s Point Churches

Posted on July 21, 2022 by admin

Despite Sunday’s walking tour being exterior only, we were able to go inside three churches that day. One of them, Parroquia de Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe, wasn’t actually on the tour.

It was, however, about a block from where we parked the car for lunch, and after eating we had a few extra minutes for a look. Mass was about to start.

One church I mentioned yesterday, Iglesia Apostolica, happened to be open when we passed by on the tour, because the service had just ended. We asked whether we could take a look, and one of the men at the door — he might have been the pastor, or not — told us we could come in, absolutely. So we did, about a dozen of us. Though a church building for many years, the interior was spare, almost wholly unadorned.

Then again, a church is its congregation, and in those terms the place was well adorned. The church was still full of people, all socializing, entirely in Spanish. All ages were represented. It was a living example of U.S. Hispanic Protestantism, which is in a growth mode — as were some other churches on the tour.

A little while later, as we passed St. Mary’s Ukrainian Orthodox Church, which curiously placed in the middle of the block rather than on a corner, a woman at the door invited us in. I believe she was a friend of the guide.

It was originally a Lutheran church, and originally in a different location.

Note the scaffolding, buckets and fans. A few weeks earlier, as the roof was being replaced, wind blew off the tarp keeping the rain out — when no one was around, apparently. In came water, and much damage resulted.

Does insurance consider that an Act of God? I doubt the parishioners do — more like an act of carelessness on the part of the tarp hangers.

Walking By Walker’s Point Churches

Posted on July 20, 2022 by admin

The walking tour we took Sunday was to look at churches in the Walker’s Point neighborhood of Milwaukee. When I signed up for it, I imagined we’d walk around and go inside a handful of churches, as we’ve done on the tours we’ve taken in Chicago.

But no. As I looked at the list of churches handed out by our guide, I thought — we’re going into all of these? Nine churches were on the list. Then it dawned on me that we’d be walking past all of them and not seeing their interiors.

That was a little disappointing. Still, despite the steamy heat of the afternoon, our church walkabout had its charms, including Parroquia de San Patricio (St. Patrick’s Parish), completed in 1895.

St. Peter Evangelical Lutheran Church, dating from 1885.

A structure that’s now Iglesia Apostolica, but when the church was built in 1894, it was Vorfreslsers Norski Evangelical Lutheran Kirke. The only surviving Norwegian-style church in the city, the guide said, and then offered some architectural details about what made that so. I can’t remember a single one.

The charming little St. Michail Ukrainian Catholic Church, built as a Lutheran church in 1894.

The former St. Wenceslas, first built in 1883. Now it’s St. Ann Chapel, and part of a Catholic school. The entrance dates from 1914 and, for all its age, still looks tacked on to me.

The Iglesia Evangelica Bautista, originally dating from 1900 as a Norwegian Evangelical Free Church.

All that only goes to show that even in matters of religious sites, time flies, things change.

Walker’s Point, Milwaukee

Posted on July 19, 2022 by admin

Over the weekend, we came across a sign for a really full-service vehicle repair shop.

Higley Motor Co. happens to be in the Walker’s Point neighborhood of Milwaukee, and we happened to wander by the sign, and I happened to read it. Read random things and sometimes you’ll be rewarded with a smile.

On Sunday, we popped off north at about 9 a.m., planning to take a Historic Milwaukee walking tour in the Walker’s Point neighborhood at 1 p.m. Extra time was built in, so we could visit the area on our own for a while, and have lunch.

Walker’s Point is south of downtown Milwaukee, and sliced in half by I-94. As Milwaukee neighborhoods go, it’s an old one. The oldest one in fact, according to the Encyclopedia of Milwaukee. A 19th-century landowner, George Walker, lent the area his name. Immigrants have lived there pretty much since day one — one influx after (and upon) another. These days it’s heavily Hispanic.

Old the neighborhood may be, but there’s also evidence of redevelopment in our time, such as this (I assume) apartment building under way.

Other buildings have been subject to major modification.

Or may be soon.

Soon we dropped by Zócalo Food Truck Park.

“A range of diverse indoor and outdoor gathering places are woven throughout the project,” says The Kubala Washatko Architects, who designed the park, which was completed in 2019.

“The team repurposed an existing two-story structure into a tavern, serving as Zocalo’s social heart. Food trucks are positioned to create room-like spaces while a garage was converted to covered dining and private event space. Overhead lights, shading devices, game area, and vibrant mural walls create dynamic exterior social zones.”

A number of options awaited us.

We picked Anytime Arepa.

As the name says, you can get the northern South American cornmeal sandwich arepa at that truck. Empanadas, too. We had one of each. They both hit the spot. The same spot, namely that we were looking for a good lunch, which we ate under one of the “shading devices” mentioned by the architect (a tarp over some tables).

Amble in Lords Park, Elgin

Posted on July 18, 2022 by admin

Rain fell overnight on Friday and into the wee hours of Saturday, which re-greened the grass some. It’s been dry enough so that I haven’t mowed in a few weeks, but now it looks like my bourgeois householder impulses (as spotty as they can be) are going to kick in, and I’ll be out there some late afternoon soon, adjusting the height of the grass.

But not yet. After the rain, Saturday was warm and a little steamy, but that didn’t keep us from popping out to Elgin for a lunch from Gabuttø Burger, and then a visit to Lords Park in that same suburb. It’s been a few years since our last visit to the place, whose contour rolls slightly and that the city keeps manicured.

The 108 acres of the park are lush green in July, after recent rains and a rainy spring.

One of the park’s distinctions is a small zoo, which has existed in one form or another as long as the park — over 100 years. Once upon a time, that included a bear pit, but that kind of animal display has mostly disappeared. The zoo doesn’t have bears at all these days. Except for some large examples, it’s mostly farm animals these days.

No dogs allowed in the zoo — we brought ours on this particular trip — so we didn’t go in. Still, you can see a number of the animals by walking around the perimeter, including some buffalo and elk, besides a few farm animals.

We took a stroll around the park’s large pond.

At one of the benches under some shade, we saw a family dressed in Sunday clothes, with perhaps another relative or a family friend taking portraits. A young man and woman, with what looked like twin girls, maybe three or four years old. For some of the pictures, the visibly pregnant woman held a set of sonograms in front of her.

At least two quinceañeras and a wedding seemed to be under way. That is, we saw more than one cluster of people dressed for those kinds of occasions, out and about with photographers.

The actual celebrations were probably in the Pavilion, a handsome structure erected in 1898 to replace a structure that had burned down after only a few months in existence. The earlier building had gone up shortly after local landowners (George and Mary Lord) gave the land for the park to the city.

We didn’t go inside — events were going on, after all, and we had a dog. The City of Elgin notes in its web site: “The elegant Pavilion features a Victorian banquet facility with hardwood floors, vaulted ceilings, picket doors, large windows with scenic park views, a covered wrap-around porch, and outdoor ceremony grounds with ponds, fountains and wooden bridge.”

Well, we did see the “ceremony grounds,” as pictured above. I don’t know that I’d call Lords Park a hidden treasure, exactly, but it is obscure (unless you live nearby) and a good spot to amble.

The Dixie

Posted on July 14, 2022 by admin

We arrived in North Webster, Indiana, not long after 11 a.m. on July 3. We stopped there because the night before, I read the Atlas Obscura item about the Dixie.

“Steamboats first began sailing on the Webster Lake as early as 1902,” the item explains. “In 1914, Captain Joseph Breeck began operating a 65-foot, wooden-hulled sternwheeler named the Dixie, which today is the oldest of its kind still in operation.

“The original Dixie was later replaced by Captain Breeck with the current 76-foot steel-hulled Dixie in 1929, and he continued to operate the ship until his retirement in 1939.”

Eventually, in the early 21st century, a nonprofit acquired the vessel, renovating and updating it, paid for in large part through local donations. Now it makes tourist runs on Webster Lake in the summer months. We caught the 1 p.m. sailing.

The day was clear and very warm, perfect for a lake outing. Dixie wasn’t packed, but a fair number of people rode on both lower and upper decks. Tickets were a bargain: $7 for adults. Good for the nonprofit — it isn’t out to gouge tourists.

Dixie is a sternwheeler, and here’s the wheel. At the stern.

A moment before I took that picture, a boy of about six was standing at the rail, looking down at the wheel. His mother encouraged him to leave, though I hadn’t said anything to her. I was ready to wait my turn.

“He’s fascinated by the wheel,” she said.

“I bet he is,” I said approvingly, but I don’t think she heard me. Managing a small child can be distracting. But if that was his first ride on a sternwheeler, I hope she made note of it on his ticket, and that the family is packratish enough so that he finds it sometime in the 2070s.

As tour boat patter went, Dixie’s taped program was well crafted — a voice talking about the ship, the lake and the surrounding land, with some interludes of peppy but not overwhelming banjo and guitar instrumentals. More actual history than you get on some tours, but not an overload. No intentionally bad jokes, either, but some good detail, especially describing the earlier days of the Dixie.

Capt. Breeck wasn’t a tour operator. He was master of a small working ship, crossing the lake in clement weather to deliver cargo and packages, as well as passengers, such as womenfolk visiting the stores in the town of North Webster. Dixie also carried groceries that it sold, and for a while the captain — clearly a jack of some trades, anyway — operated a small smithy at the back of the vessel.

His successors eventually evolved into tour operators as the surrounding farms gave way to postwar pockets of resort-like development. By now at least three generations have taken rides, including first dates of later married couples, and people taken by their grandparents who are now taking their grandchilden.

Got some views from both decks.

The presentation’s detail about the shoreline is a bit of a blur — the boat docked here or there sometimes, the captain had his house at this other place, that island in the middle of the lake is owned by some notable Indiana family. The names came and went: Fisherman Cove, Miller’s Landing, Stumpy Flats, Weimer’s Landing.

But my ears perked up during the talk about the two sizable hotels that used to be on the lake. One was the Yellow Banks Hotel.

“A very grand hotel, built in 1902,” says the Dixie web site. “The original hotel and its wooden rowboats were painted yellow… This was a scheduled stop for the Dixie until the early 1960s. In the late 1960s the hotel changed owners and fell into disrepair. It briefly became an Italian restaurant (Novelli’s) in the late 1970s, but was dismantled in 1980. Dillinger and his gang stayed at the Yellow Banks Hotel, probably in October 1933 or April 1934.”

The Epworth Forest Hotel (from the web site).

The Epworth had an outdoor amphitheater. “The Dixie would pickup passengers in this protected cove on windy days,” the web site continues. “In 1955 the Dixie began hosting Epworth Forest’s production of Showboat. Once per year the Dixie became the stage for this off-Broadway play.

“By 1964 the cast and production became too large for the boat. From 1964 through 1980, the Dixie would simply deliver the cast of Showboat to this amphitheater for their annual performance. By 1981 the new owners of the Dixie had cancelled this tradition.”

Both of these hotels were cancelled, too, in the way things are usually canceled, not as the result of some moral outrage, but rather by the course of business. By the late 20th century, the economics of even a small resort area like Webster Lake meant that single-family homes, short-term rentals and condos became the norm along the shore.

Plenty of other watercraft were in the lake on that second day of the Independence Day long weekend. We got a lot of waves from passersby, and most everyone on the Dixie waved back. Us too.

I was out and about throughout the hour and a half or so the tour lasted, though I spent most of my time on the lower deck. My deck companions across the way didn’t, as far as I noticed, get up and move about.

They did shift a few times, though.

Been There, Seen That

By Dees Stribling

Category Archives: Been There