On Friday, we arose early and shared a bagel and yogurt we had carried with us, then pressed on up the rail trail toward Mackinaw City. The surface was mostly firm, with only a few unpacked fill areas. Still, it took two hours to cover the 15 miles. In the city, the trail was paved, and we surged ahead. At the trailhead, we discovered the reason all the hotels had been booked: tractors.

1000 tractors, assembled for a parade through town and across the 5-mile Mackinac Bridge. Apparently, this is a long-standing annual affair run by tractor collectors from all over the midwest.

We asked directions to get around the tractor parade, and headed for the ferry terminal, which required us to slip between tractors (with the aid of a traffic policeman). After paying passenger fares, plus per-seat bike fare, and and extra fare for the trailer, we boarded the ferry and headed for a unique place in America, Mackinac Island. (Which locals quickly informed us was pronounced Mack-in-Awe, like the city is spelled.)

Mackinac Island is carless. There are none. The island is full of bicycles and horse-drawn wagons and carriages. Teams of horses haul luggage carts from the ferries to the hotels. Porters carry huge stacks of suitcases in handlebar baskets to inns and B&Bs. Stacks of bricks, bags of cement, and tons of horse feed go by on horse carts.

Not having time to ride around the island on the shore drive, we at least rode far enough to see the famous arch rock.

Although the hills to the top of the bluffs were too steep for our touring rig, we did find the road to the Grand Hotel was less steep, and made a trip up to the famous site before getting on the ferry to St. Ignace.
After a mere three hours on the island, we only bought a coffee from Starbucks, having the last of our bagels for lunch. Once on the U.P. at St. Ignace, we rode several miles uphill to our hotel, which was next to a all-day breakfast diner and across from a pasty shop (short ‘a’) and convenience grocery, where we outfitted ourselves with a supply of bananas and sports drink for the next day’s journey west toward Wisconsin.

At the end of the day, we climbed to a viewpoint on the roof of a curiosity shop next to the motel to see the famous Mackinac Bridge, closed to bicycles and motorcycles because of the grated deck and high winds.

After leaving Dorothy and John’s house, we pushed up over steep hills and dirt roads (a shortcut) to get to the rail trail along Mullet Lake. The trail, though flat, continued to be loose material that impeded progress. Even though the nearby highway had a shoulder, we elected to continue on the trail because the view of the lake was so much better.

When the trail crossed the highway near Cheboygan, we followed the highway into town to a shipping station, where we boxed up all our camping gear–34 pounds worth–and shipped it to our son’s house in Washington. The bike and trailer immediately became more responsive. We stopped for lunch/dinner at a home-cooking restaurant down the road. However, it was now late in the day: we had received a recommendation for lodging from the shippers and rejoined the trail a mile or so later, turning off to stay at LeDuc’s Creekside Motel, a family-owned business on the edge of town, for a short day, but with a lot of promise for continuing our trip. We also found there are plenty of small motels along our route, so we wouldn’t be forced to camp to complete our planned route through the U.P.

When we called for reservations in Mackinaw City, we found the entire city booked, with only a few rooms left in St. Ignace. So, we planned to tour Mackinac Island on Friday, which meant an early start and hard ride to get to the island in mid-day for a short tour before continuing on to St. Ignace. However, it also meant that we would make up time from our unscheduled stop in Cheboygan.

After leaving our hosts, we stopped at the Gaylord Farmers Market, a covered block just off Main, and picked up some apples. Then, we stopped at the Big Bear Deli (photo above) to catch up on email, as we didn’t have WiFi available overnight. Following the railroad tracks north, we picked up the North Central Trail, part of over 1000 miles of trails in Michigan.

The trail proved to be more a snowmobile trail than a bicycle touring trail: the “packed crushed limestone” surface had apparently been recently prepped for the winter season with a fresh application of unpacked material, which turned out to act very much like loose gravel, forcing us to pedal downhill with our heavy trailer and small wheels, and to dismount at nearly every road and driveway crossing for the next 30 miles.

We ate lunch at the Thirsty Sturgeon, just off the trail near Wolverine, and then started uphill again toward Indian River. By this time we realized we were severely overloaded and began drafting alternate plans.

Arriving in Indian River, we found the road to our hosts for the evening, John and Dorothy.  A series of steep hills lay ahead.  Dorothy found us on the road and led us downhill and down a long dirt lane to their wonderful beach home on Burt Lake.  After an enjoyable evening visiting with an amazing couple–who, of similar age, still participates in marathons and bike events far beyond our capabilities at any age–we retired to guest quarters above the detached garage.

The next morning, we were treated to a breakfast of yogurt and pancakes with walnuts and blueberries, and conversation, finally saying our goodbyes and heading off for the next day’s ventures. Thanks, Dorothy and John, for a wonderful visit.