The title of this post will make a lot more sense if you look at a map of the state of Michigan.  The lower part is shaped a bit like a mitten with the thumb on the right, and the northern part is called the Upper Peninsula, The U.P.

After my tour of the Ford Rouge Factory and leaving the Detroit area, I thought I’d check out the rest of Michigan.  I had always heard that the Upper Peninsula was pretty, and… well… not much else about the state, really.  So I started driving northward.  Much of the mitten that I saw was farm land, with sparsely scattered small cities, and boats absolutely everywhere.  But considering that the mitten borders on three of the Great Lakes, and the U.P. picks up one more, I guess that’s hardly surprising.  And remember, the Great Lakes are inland seas, so these aren’t fishing dinghies, these are major cruisers and yachts!  But the red wooden barns scattered across the landscape were also very quaint and pretty.

I had just become aware that I was doing an accidental tour of all the Great Lakes, so decided to stop for the night at a campground near Tawas, on Lake Huron.  It was a lovely spot, and I’d have to say that in general the facilities at the Michigan State Park camping areas are some of the best I’ve seen so far.  The view across the lake was gorgeous, and it’s still hard to believe that these are fresh water lakes, and not the ocean.

The Tawas Point Lighthouse was traditionally lovely, and I managed to capture the evening sun just right in this picture.

I moved north again the next day, reaching Mackinaw City in the late morning.  I took a rest from driving by exploring the lighthouse there, one of several that used to guard ships going through the Mackinac Straights.  The view across the straights from the lighthouse was impressive, and I spend some time walking and resting there.

Since it was time for lunch, I also remembered the recommendation of Maggie, from the visitor center in Sacket’s Harbor, NY, and visited Darrow’s Family Restaurant for the fish fry.  The staff there were so friendly, and Maggie was absolutely correct, the fried whitefish was probably the best fish fry I’ve ever had!  And it was huge!

With belly full and spirits high I was ready to cross the bridge and start investigating what the UP had to offer.  Well, the bridge over the Mackinac Straights was entertaining, and so was the guy driving in front of me.  First off, the bridge is actually very high in the center, and it’s steel decked, which made it a bit squirrelly to drive, and meant that you could look alllllll the way down to the water.  And then there was the fact that, although there were guard rails, they were for some reason set below the deck of the bridge, so that the tops only came half way up my door — still high enough to stop me if I was to suddenly veer off… I guess?  And then construction on the bridge narrowed it down to one lane.  And then the guy in front of me kept getting nervous and slamming on his brakes.  And did I mention all the truck traffic?  There was a $4 toll on the other side, which I assume that most people were quite happy to pay in order to be allowed back off the bridge.  But overall it was actually kind of fun in a roller coaster kind of way.  There was a great view back from the northern side.  That’s Lake Michigan on the right, and Lake Huron on the left of the bridge.

There were signs for a memorial site on the other side, and having a slight need to stop and regain my composure, I decided to take a look.  Here I learned the very interesting story of Father Jaques Marquette, a Jesuit missionary and explorer who explored and mapped Lake Superior and the Mississippi River valley in 1673.  I can just imagine how wild the area was then, and how difficult to travel.

The memorial building was very attractive, having a map of his travels set into the floor, explanations of his travels and missionary work along the walls, and an open view to the straights on the other side.  I was very glad that I stopped to learn about this remarkable man and the area.

As I traveled up the mitten, I had been seeing signs for the Great Lakes Shipwreck Museum on Whitefish Point, so decided to make this my next destination.  The drive up there looked a lot like this.  Nothing but this for mile after mile.  That’s not something on the road ahead, that’s a bug on the windscreen… lots of bugs.

But the museum was well worth the drive.  Probably many of us, however else we may have heard of it, will always associate the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald with the Gordon Lightfoot song, and sure enough they had it playing in the reception area of the museum.  And in the main gallery.  And it was in the movie.  The museum consists of a main gallery of information and artefacts, the old lighthouse and the keeper’s house, the lifeboat shed, a movie about the Edmund Fitzgerald, and a children’s hands-on center.  I went through the exhibits first, and read the stories of many of the wrecks that had happened in the area that’s called the “graveyard of the Great Lakes.”  The story of the Niagara in 1897 was one of many.

Over the years, a number of the wrecks have been visited by divers and shipwreck archeologists, who have brought back artefacts from the ships.  Some of the largest were from the Niagara, including the anchor and the bell.

Signs told me that since navigation began on Lake Superior, there have been more than 550 wrecks, with the majority of them occurring in the Whitefish Point area.  The most famous of these was the Edmund Fitzgerald, lost with all 29 crew in a storm on November 10, 1975.  For 17 years this largest ship on the Great Lakes had carried iron ore from mines near Duluth, MN to Detroit, Toledo, and other ports — perhaps even to the Ford Rouge Factory.  The reason why she went down in this storm, although the subject of several investigations, has never been confirmed.  It’s certain that the captain reported trouble, and that she was taking on water for some time before she vanished, and also fairly certain that she was hit by two rogue 30 foot waves that overtook another nearby ship at about that time.  In July 1995, through the combined efforts of the Great Lakes Shipwreck Historical Society, National Geographic Society, Canadian Naval Ship HMCS Cormorant, Sony Corporation, and the Sault Ste. Marie Tribe of Chippewa Indians, divers brought up the bronze bell from where the Edmund Fitzgerald rested under 500 feet of water, and put in its place a replica bell inscribed with the names of all 29 crew members lost, to act as a permanent grave marker.  Because of the impossibility of retrieving the bodies, they were left there, and the area was restricted from further diving or disturbance.  I saw the original bell at the museum.

I also took a walk along the shore of Whitefish Point, and looked out on a calm day to where so many ships still lie under the surface.

The pebbled shore there was fascinating, and I spent a lot of time hunting for pretty and unusual ones.

I also visited the lighthouse keeper’s house, which was decorated and furnished as it was when the first keeper was there in 1848 to 1851.  I was a bit disconcerted by the overly lifelike manikins they used though, and almost spoke to a couple!

The lifeboat shed was running an interesting film about the life of the men who did this job, and contained one of the lifeboats used.  Scowling man left in for scale.

And if any of you have ever been the new kid on the job, and felt like you were given all the jobs that no one else wanted, try reading this to make you feel better!

After spending the night nearby at a camp on the Tahquamenon River, I started out feeling fresh and cheerful the next morning, and headed west with no clear objective or end point in mind.  When I stopped for a bagel and coffee at a great bagelry in Munising, however, I noticed a lot of signs pointing out waterfalls in the area.  Sicne they seemed to be fairly widely scattered, I chose the one with the most interesting name and went there — Laughing Whitefish Falls.  No indication as to whether it’s the falls or the fish that’s actually laughing, however.

I had only been on a couple of dirt roads since starting my trip and didn’t really need 4 wheel drive here, but decided to use this opportunity to make sure my hubs were staying lubricated.

It was about a mile hike back to the falls, and it felt good to get out and stretch my legs after so much driving.  The falls were well worth the trip too, with an actual fall at the top followed by a long slide, with a pool at the bottom.

As I was hiking down from the top I heard voices, and ended up talking to a family trying their luck with the fish in the pool at the bottom.  I think they were hoping for trout, but ended up with this little creek chub instead.  Yes, although it was a pretty little fish, he looked very disappointed!

I also explored some of the sandstone caves in the area, and rode out a short rain shower in one.

As I was hiking out I ran into several more fishermen coming in, some in waders, so there must be something bigger in there somewhere, maybe even that elusive trout.  I got back on the road, and decided to make the town of Houghton my stopping point for the night, merely because it has the same name as a town near where I lived in Australia.  Good enough reason these days I think!  But to get there, there were hours more of this, broken by views of Lake Superior on my right.  That’s ok.  It beats working! 😉