Around Lake Michigan Bits & Pieces

Posted on August 22, 2022 by admin

Here’s a set of facts that only I’m likely care about, but I find remarkable anyway.

My recent trip with friends to the UP and back began on July 30 and ended on August 7. Fifteen years earlier, in 2007, I took a trip with my immediate family to the UP and back, from July 30 to August 7. I didn’t know about the coincidence until I read a previous posting of mine. I wish I could say that I’d taken a July-30-to-August-7 trip 15 years before that, in 1992, but no: Singapore and Malaysia was June 29 to July 10 that year (I had to check.)

Both were counterclockwise around Lake Michigan, but such is the richness of worthwhile sights in that part of the country that the two trips touched only at one point: the Mackinac Bridge. And in the fact that we spent time in the UP.

Is it so different now than 15 years ago? Except for maybe better Internet connectivity (I hope so) and maybe a worse opioid problem (I hope not), not a lot seems to have changed.

The UP’s population in 2020, per the Census Bureau, was about 301,600, representing a decline from 311,300 in 2010 and 317,200 in 2000. Truth be told, however, the UP’s population has never been more than about 325,600, which it was in 1910. After a swelling in population in the 19th century, especially after the Civil War, numbers have held fairly steady, meaning an increasingly smaller percentage of Michiganders and Americans, for that matter, live in the UP.

A spiffy public domain map.

Of course, the trip started in metro Chicago, and our first destination was BAPS Shri Swaminarayan Mandir Chicago in Bartlett, Illinois. A striking piece of India within short driving distance of home, I once said, and I’m pretty sure my friends agreed with that assessment.

Next: Indiana Dunes National Park. I had in mind we’d walk along a trail I knew, and a beach I liked, but no parking was to be had on a Saturday in summer. We were able to stop at the the Century of Progress Architectural District for a few minutes, and amble down to the beach for a few more from there. They liked that, too, and I’m sure had never heard of that corner of Indiana.

Across the line in Michigan, we went to Redamak’s in New Buffalo. Crowded, but it was then that we collectively decided, though it was unspoken, that good food in a restaurant setting was worth the risk of the BA.5 variant. I’m glad to report that none of us had any Covid-like symptoms during the entire run of the trip.

Those were my first-day suggestions. Now my friends had one: Saugatuck, Michigan, which is actually two small towns, the other being named Douglas. I’d seen it on maps, but that was the extent of my awareness. Turns out it’s a popular place on a summer Saturday, too. Especially on the main streets.

Once we found parking, the place got a lot more pleasant. We wandered around, looking at a few shops and buying ice cream for a short sit down.

A small selection of Saugatuck businesses vying for those visitor dollars (no special order): Uncommon Coffee Roasters, Glik’s clothing store, Kilwin’s Chocolate, Sand Bar Saloon, Country Store Antiques, Bella Vita Spa + Suites, Tree of Life Juice, the Owl House (“gifts for the wise and the whimsical”), LUXE Saugatuck, Santa Fe Trading Co., Marie’s Green Apothecary (“all things plant made”), Mother Moon book store, and Amazwi Contemporary Art, just to list only a fraction of the businesses.

Not a lot of neon, but there was this.

I liked the little public garden. Rose Garden, at least according to Google Maps.

And its sculpture, “Cyclists,” by William Tye (2003).

At the Frederik Meijer Park & Sculpture Garden, we encountered a flock of what looked like wild turkeys.

The marina at Mackinaw City, from which boats to Mackinac Island depart, and a highly visible structure nearby.

You can be sure that we spent that afternoon on Mackinac Island.

Besides the Mackinac Island Ramble (that’s what I’m calling our walk there), we took a number of other good walks on the trip.

One was at the 390-acre Offield Family Working Forest Reserve, near Harbor Springs, Michigan. Its excellent wayfinding — clear and immediately useful signs and maps — helped us through its mildly labyrinthine paths that curve through a lush forest with no major water features, including parts that had clearly been used as a pine plantation.

Clouds threatened rain but only produced mist in the cool air. Wildflowers might have been a little past peak, but there was a profusion, and a rainy spring and early summer put them in robust clusters of red and blue and gold and white, near and far from our path. Everywhere a damp forest scent, wonderful and off-putting at the same time.

On August 5, our last full day in the UP, we had lunch in the small town of Grand Marais, on the shores of Lake Superior. As tourist towns go, it’s minor league, but all the more pleasant for it. The extent of souvenir stands at the main crossroads was a single enclosed booth, staffed by a young college woman who was maybe a relative of the owner. The selection of postcards was limited, but I got a few.

Right there on the main street of Grand Marais is the Pickle Barrel House. You can’t miss it. We didn’t.

Afterward, we found our way to the eastern reaches of Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore, since the town is considered the eastern gateway to the lakeshore. That end of the lakeshore doesn’t have the pictured rocks, but there’s a lot else.

One trail on lakeshore land took us down to a beach on the south shore of Lake Superior. Sabel Beach, by name. You climb down a couple of hundred stairs to get there, but see the vigorous Sable Falls on the way. The way wasn’t empty, but not nearly the mob city on the southern shore of Lake Michigan or the waterfront at Mackinac Island.

Another lakeshore trail took us along Sable Dunes, which only involved a modest amount of climbing — not nearly as much as the Dune Climb at Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore — though sometimes the path underfoot was sand without vegetation. On the whole, the dunes support a full collection of the sort of hardy yellow-green grasses and bushes and gnarled trees you see near a beach. For human hikers, the dunes eventually provide a more elevated vista of the lake, which reminded me of the look over Green Bay last year.

We spent two nights in Newberry, Michigan. Still no more signs of møøse than the last time I was there. I did have the opportunity to take a short walk around town. This is the Luce County Historical Museum (closed at that moment), which was once the county jail and sheriff’s residence. It’s complete with a time capsule on the grounds for the Newberry centennial in 1982. Planned re-opening: 2082. That’s optimism.

A few other nearby buildings.

Saint Gregory’s Catholic Church.

We encountered rain much of the last day of the trip, August 7, so mostly it was a drive from our lakeside rental near Green Bay (the water feature) in Wisconsin home to the northwest suburbs. We didn’t stop in Milwaukee, though we buzzed through downtown on I-94, which offers a closeup of the skyline.

We did stop at Mars Cheese Castle before we left Wisconsin. How could we not do that?

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.

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).

Antiques of Naperville

Posted on June 30, 2022 by admin

Back on July 5, since of course the stretch from Canada Day to Independence Day at the very least ought to be a row of holidays.

At a shop called Antiques of Naperville, which is tucked away on a side street in that suburb’s downtown, there is a sign that says:

Take All The Photos You Want
Please
Tag Us @Antiques of Naperville
#shopdoggibson #brownbarnantiques

Sure thing. This doesn’t count as a tag, but it is a mention. I took the place up on its offer of no-limits photography, because there was so much stuff around. Interesting stuff. That’s all I ask of an antique store. Not every shop allows pictures, but is that not a mistake in this age of social media?

This was the place I found the Charley Weaver bartender doll, previously posted. Nearby him were these ties — and somehow they’re in the same bric-a-brac milieu as ol’ Charley.

Divers reading material.

Dell. We always had many more Gold Key comics than Dell, but there were a few around the house.

Paperbacks. Not that old. We had this book when I was young and I read it. And the next one.

Something we didn’t have: Shiva.

Shiva is the Destroyer, and it occurs to me that destruction doesn’t have to be dramatic and fast, does it? Sometimes — often? — usually? — destruction is gradual, happening off in a quiet corner or nook, but inexorable all the same. Such as for the objects in an antique shop, for instance.

Characters more friendly than Shiva.

I have to say it: Very interesting, but stoopid. You bet your sweet bippy.

“As seen on Antiques Roadshow.” This very thing, or just one like it?

A traveling game of chance, its sign said, used by con men. No doubt.

Items no longer needed by drivers, fortunately.

Yuriko pointed out the inhabitant of a chair in the shop.

For a moment I thought it was a doll or cushion of some kind, but then one of the dog’s paws twitched. It was a living dog. Probably the most inert dog I’ve ever seen, and a lot of dogs are inert a lot of the time. This dog paid no attention to any of the people shuffling through the shop, and barely acknowledged it when Yuriko petted him.

Regal Country Inn, 2017

Posted on June 26, 2022 by admin

Rain yesterday morning, cool temps in the afternoon. Cool morning today, pretty warm but not blazing hot in the afternoon. Saw a few fireflies last week. Harbingers of high summer, they are. Always glad to see them.

Has it been five years since our last visit to the UP? Apparently so. I wish I’d taken more detailed pictures of the place we stayed, the Regal Country Inn in Wakefield, Mich., which wasn’t remotely regal, more-or-less country, and certainly an inn.

The motel was located on U.S. 2, which passes along the roof of the United States.

The reason I should have documented the place better is sic transit gloria mundi.

Ah, well. Wonder whether the place fell victim to the pandemic or merely the slings and arrows of commercial fortune.

It was a pleasantly comfortable independent motel, owned by the fellow who greeted us at the front desk.

Bob, I’ll call him, because I don’t remember his name, but Bob fits. Bob gave me a discount for paying in cash. Good old Bob. Maybe our stay was off the books. I didn’t ask.

We stayed in a second-floor room, near an opening over the lower level and among a fair amount of bric-a-brac.

His cutout was there, but as far as I know the place didn’t claim that the Duke ever stayed at the Regal Country Inn.

It Isn’t Buc-ee’s

Posted on April 21, 2022 by admin

In Pontiac, Illinois — out on I-55, not this part — stands Wally’s, a large gas station with a lot of other merchandise and clean restrooms.

Naturally, Buc-ee’s comes to mind, but Wally’s doesn’t seem to have a mascot, though cartoon animals are part of its billboard advertising. Mostly, Wally’s still stakes out its commercial presence in lettering, such as these in the acres-large parking lot.

You need a mascot, Wally. Something to go mano a mano with the Beaver.

Wally’s is that smallest of chains, one with only two links. The other Wally’s, which I didn’t know about till I looked it up, is in Fenton, Missouri. Just opened this year.

Another thing I looked up: Wally’s has 72 pumps, plus a handful of EV charging stations, at least in Pontiac. A normal-sized Buc-ee’s, such as the one on I-35 in New Braunfels, Texas, has 60 pumps, so they’re comparable. In the restrooms, Wally’s says it has 20 women’s stalls and 10 men’s stalls plus 11 urinals, while Buc-ee’s can accommodate 84 in its restrooms all together, though my source doesn’t differentiate them.

Just guessing, but I’d say in square footage, Buc-ee’s has the edge, and it certainly has a greater array of merch, even though Wally’s has a fair amount. On the plus column for Wally’s: a moose head. See ’em where you can.

But never mind those things. The reason to stop is gas prices about a low as at a discount warehouse store.

I decided to document the prices at Wally’s on Sunday as I bought some. Regular at standard gas stations were all still above $4/gallon that day, usually by 20 or 30 cents.

Savannah Bits

Posted on March 22, 2022 by admin

By the time we got to Factors Walk in downtown Savannah on March 7, it was already dark. Daytime pictures of the area, which used to be home to the sizable business of selling and shipping cotton, are available here.

The ground floor of the Factors Walk buildings facing the Savannah River are mostly oriented to tourists these days, including restaurants and small shops. I bought some postcards at a souvenir store, and when I told the clerk where I lived (he asked), he further asked whether Illinois has mandatory auto emissions tests. I said it does.

He said, as a life-long resident of Savannah, he only recently found out that some states do that. He looked to be in his 30s. It seemed to be a subject of some fascination for him.

Later I checked, and I was only partly correct. Only some counties in Illinois test auto emissions — Cook and Du Page among them, the only counties I’ve ever lived in here. Some Georgia counties do too, but not Chatham, where Savannah is located.

Some of the tourist attractions at Factors Walk are more mobile than the stores, such as the good tourist ship Georgia Queen, apparently docked for the evening.

Another thing I heard from a resident: St. Patrick’s Day is a big to-do in Savannah, probably even bigger this year after two years of cancelation. We came to town nearly two weeks ahead of all that, and so were able to find a room. Closer to the event and we’d have been out of luck, even booking as I did in January.

Some houses were already ready for the festivities, such as along Jones St.

Other places had more topical colors flying.

Savannah is easily as picturesque as Charleston, maybe more so, but it needs more stylish cast-iron covers.

The first evening we were in town, I took a walk near the Isseta Inn. I chanced by the Gingerbread House. I knew it was called that because of the sign out front.

“Built in 1899 by Cord Asendorf, this magnificent house is considered among the finest examples of Steamboat Gothic architecture in America,” the house web site asserts. These days it hosts weddings and other events.

Even closer to the Isetta Inn — on the next block — evidence that the neighborhood continues to gentrify.

Though a little clogged with traffic, Victory Drive is a good drive, among the palms that line it. There is some commercial development, including this sign — which has its own Atlas Obscura page. We weren’t inspired to buy anything there.

The town of Tybee Island has very little free parking. I understand the reasons: lots of visitors, infrastructure needs to be maintained, etc. Still, that grated, especially since it applied even on a Sunday, which is when we drove through.

So besides The Crab Shack, which had a gravel parking lot shaded by tall trees, the only place we stopped was along U.S. 80 on the outskirts of town, where no meters or fee signage existed.

We took a look at a small cluster of shops on the road.

More interestingly, visited Fish Art Gallerie. It has its own Roadside America item, though not including a lot of information. “The folk art environment/gallery/store of Ralph Douglas Jones, who turns junk into fish art. Much colorful nonsense is visible from the street,” RA says.

This is a video of the founder Jones. The guy at the counter when we visited didn’t look like him, which is too bad, since meeting Ralph might be the same kind of trip as meeting Randy in Pittsburgh.

Ann bought some beads and other small items, I bought a cast-iron bottle opener in the shape of a turtle.

One more pic from Tybee Island.

Just more of the trees that helped make visiting this part of the country a delight.

Tybee Island Seafood, Gators & Birds

Posted on March 20, 2022 by admin

The seaside town and island called Tybee Island isn’t far from Savannah, connected to the city by U.S. 80. In the city, that route is the palm-lined Victory Drive. Outside town, the road passes the entrance to Fort Pulaski NM along the South Channel of the Savannah River and eventually takes you to Tybee Island, with its beaches and accommodations and shops for beachgoers.

On the way, the drive takes you within sight of Captain Derek’s Dolphin Adventure and Amick’s Deep Sea Fishing (tour operators), Seaside Sisters Gift Shop, Gerald’s Pig & Shrimp, Tybee Island Wedding Chapel & Grand Ballroom and lots of other enterprises longing for sweet visitor dollars. I expect it’s been a hard few years lately, but to judge by traffic to and in Tybee Island, things have picked up.

Not visible from U.S. 80, but evident on Google Maps, is The Crab Shack, about a minute’s drive off the main road on the outskirts of town, down a street that’s otherwise residential. We went there for lunch after visiting Fort Pulaski.

The restaurant isn’t affiliated with Joe’s Crab Shack or any other chain, as far as I can tell. The place apparently evolved from a mid-century fishing camp on Chimney Creek — a place where boats docked and fishing enthusiasts bought bait and beer — into a multi-building restaurant and tourist attraction over the last four decades or so. Organic, mostly unplanned growth, and looks like it.

Try as they might, neither restaurant consultants, nor algorithms nor AI-generated consumer-facing gastrolocus experience programs, can put all the elements of a place like The Crab Shack together in as pleasing a way as individual human effort can, bit by bit over years. Good thing, too.

The tables sprawl out on a wooden deck overlooking the creek, with trees towering overhead and forming a much-needed canopy where there’s no roof (though bird droppings were a worry). The Crab Shack could easily been a tourist trap, especially if the food wasn’t up to par. But it was very good.

This is Captain Crab’s Sampler Platter (for two), featuring boiled shrimp, snow crab, mussels, crawfish, corn, potatoes and sausage. We ate a lot of it, though some mussels, shrimp and crawdads ended up in the refrigerator at the Isetta Inn for later consumption. Ann sent a picture of the platter to Lilly, to inspire envy. The platter happened to be a lot like what Lilly and I ate in New Orleans.

The pie slices we shared for dessert — coconut cream and Key lime — were much better than very good. So good I persuaded myself to eat very them slowly, bite by savored bite, something I don’t often do.

As you’d expect, eating is only part of The Crab Shack experience.

After our meal, we spent a few moments at the Gator Deck, which overlooks a pond.

A pond stocked with alligators. Quite a few, actually. Real and otherwise.

A Crab Shack employee told me the pond alligators were all juveniles, born in captivity and destined for alligator farms. Destined to be wallets and purses, she didn’t say, but I expect that’s what often happens. As far as I could see, alligator wasn’t on the menu at the restaurant, but I don’t see why not.

Elsewhere in the compound is the Bird Shack, stocked with various birds.

Damned if the two multicolored birds weren’t loud. Loud — KAHHHH! without warning. The white bird, less noisy, danced and said a few words when he was so inspired.

Tony the Retired Barber & Ron the Returned Barber

Posted on March 2, 2022 by admin

I called my barber shop this morning, expecting to make an appointment with Tony the barber, who has cut my hair most of the time since I quit having it cut in downtown Chicago, which was in 2005, when I quit working downtown.

Most memorably, I took Ann to the shop when she was five, and she documented the scene.

“He’s retired,” another barber told me over the phone. I expressed my surprise. Since the end of last year, turns out.

But it isn’t really that surprising. Tony was 70 if he was a day. So I made an appointment with Ron the barber, who took Tony’s chair. Ron is also 70 if he’s a day, and came out of retirement after making a recovery from a fall that broke his hip and nearly killed him. From the look of his gait, I’d say his recovery’s been pretty solid.

I know that because he told me about it as he cut my hair. He’s a little more chatty than Tony, but after he told me about his health (and one other thing), he didn’t talk a lot more. Never been a fan of chatty barbers, maybe because of the redneck who cut my hair 40+ years ago who had some asinine opinions he liked sharing.

The other thing Ron the barber told me was about another barber who used to be in the shop — I didn’t remember him — who came down with Covid at some point. The disease seemed to evolve into long Covid, Ron said, but further testing revealed metastasized cancer of some kind. He implied, but didn’t say, that that fellow now has a barber chair in glory. I didn’t ask. Such are the social conventions around death.

Ron did say that the unfortunate fellow’s condition inspired Tony, who is still fairly healthy, to retire. Good for Tony. As for Ron, he’s as talented as Tony, and did an expert job, so I expect I’ll be back.

One more thing: he charged $20, same as Tony did for not sure how many years. For now anyway, the current round of inflation hasn’t hit my barber shop.

Actually, another thing: I saw from his barber license on the wall that Ron has an Italian surname. So did Tony, and so does the other barber still working in the shop besides Ron. And so did both barbers I went to downtown in the late ’90s and early ’00s and I think — not sure now — the barber I went to in the Andersonville neighborhood of Chicago in the late ’80s. A thing that makes me go hm.

Charlestowne Mall Residuum

Posted on February 15, 2022 by admin

One reason I forgot the Super Bowl on Sunday was our excursion to St. Charles, Illinois. More specifically, we went to the Charlestowne Mall in the eastern part of that far suburb. I couldn’t remember how long it had been since we’d been there. A decade or more, probably.

So we were surprised to find the mall closed.

In the greater scheme of retail things, that’s not a surprise. A lot of malls have closed in recent years. I’ve written about that trend any number of times, but never had any reason to cover the Charlestowne Mall in particular, so I didn’t know its fate.

The mall opened in 1991, just ahead of the long slide for department stores, and when the notion of online commerce was still in the realm of speculative fiction. In other words, at an inauspicious moment for regional malls, but no one knew it at the time.

Most of the mall closed in 2017. Three of the four anchor department stores had gone dark by then, leaving only Von Maur open. As it still is.

The other open business at the mall is an 18-plex movie theater, which is where we were going. We had to circle around most of the mall to find it. The entrance was tucked away in a bleak alley-like passage, though marked by flags.

Word is that redevelopment of the site is in the works. The plan will retain the movie theater and Von Maur, but the rest of the site will be given over to residential properties and (possibly) a hotel, along with some green space. That too isn’t a surprise.

Been There, Seen That

By Dees Stribling

Category Archives: Retail