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.