Day 3 -- To Mackinac Island

The rain started at about 3 a.m. and continued through the morning. Keith and I got up around 6 and spent the next hour monitoring our various weather apps, trying to interpret the radar images. The forecast was constantly shifting, but we finally reasoned that the rain would ease up around 8 and give us a short window to break the tents down and pack up the gear.

Sure enough, the drizzle lightened to just a few drips, so we roused the kids and got to work rolling sleeping bags and sleeping pads, shaking out the soggy rain flies and stuffing them into a wet bag and dismantling the tents. We were just a few minutes from having everything completely packed into the Teardrop when the skies opened up again – not with a light sprinkle but with a full-on downpour. 

If the weather had held off just another minute or two, the trailer doors would have been closed, the galley would have been locked down and we would have been sitting high and dry in the car. But the trailer doors were wide open, and the galley was gaping, as were the drawers and cabinet doors inside. 

We threw the last things into the trailer and locked everything down, but not before it all got completely soaked. The car interior got drenched, too, just in the few moments it took us to open the doors and climb in.

Natalie immediately produced a bag of powdered Donettes that she had swiped from our food stash in the back of the trailer to pass around once we were out of the rain. I swiftly and sharply vetoed that idea. And just as quickly, I regretting my too-harsh response. I know we were all tired and stressed and hungry, but the idea of all that loose powdered sugar sticking to our wet hands and fingers and to every wet surface in the car was just too, too horrifying. 

I think we all would have been even more stressed out If we hadn’t been packing up and heading to Mackinac Island, the 19-square-mile island that sits near the western edge of Lake Huron, accessible only by boat and airplane.  But we knew what was waiting for us at the end of the road today: A stay at the elegant historic Grand Hotel, with hot showers and actual beds. 

One of the island’s landmark buildings, the hotel opened its door on this exact day in 1887 as a luxurious summer resort, and is now considered a National Historic Landmark. As such, the hotel clings to some of its older traditions, like requiring jackets and ties for gentlemen and dresses or skirts for ladies after 6 p.m. We have all packed the requisite attire for the occasion -- tucked away in a separate garment bag in the cartop carrier – and have been looking forward to stripping out of our dirty, dripping camping duds and getting a little dolled up. 

Once we got on the road, the rain tapered off again, so we cracked the trailer windows for a while to try to dry out the inside. We took a detour into Traverse City, to a bakery that offered curbside pickup, and we slurped coffee and nibbled on breakfast sandwiches as we continued along the east side Grand Traverse Bay toward Charlevoix and then Petoskey. 

It was early afternoon by the time we were crossing the Straits of Mackinac on the Mackinac Bridge, a 26,000-foot-long (nearly five miles) suspension bridge -- by some measures, the fifth longest suspension bridge in the world and the longest suspension bridge in the western hemisphere – connecting Michigan’s upper and lower peninsulas. 

From the middle of the bridge, we had broad views of Lake Huron and Mackinac Island to the east. To the west we saw the dark clouds that had been tracking us all day, and even the unmistakable inky smear of heavy rain over a distant spot in Lake Michigan.

Once firmly on the UP side, it was just a short drive to Shepler’s Ferry dock. With only five minutes until the next ferry departure, we quickly unloaded our duffles from the trailer and piled them on the curb – just as the skies opened up again in a sudden, soaking downpour.

The stewards tagged our bags and whisked them away while I paid for overnight parking and Keith sped away to park the car in the trailer lot. He came trotting back through the soaking rain a minute later and we were all able to board the ferry with a minute or two to spare. We sloshed down the aisle to our seats, and just sat there, stunned. It was the second time today we had been caught in a downpour.

The boat pulled away from the dock and after another minute Keith finally snapped out of his daze, turned to me and said, “We forgot our dress clothes in the cartop carrier.” 

We spent most of the 20-minute ride to the island fuming, and then decided that Keith would re-board the ferry, go back to the parking lot, retrieve the garment bag, and return on the next ferry, although he wasn’t happy about it. All told, it would probably add another 90 minutes to his travels today. It's not how we wanted our island adventure to start.

When we arrived at the dock on Mackinac Island, Keith explained the situation to the captain, who was seeing passengers off the boat. Keith asked if he could just re-board, or if he had to go to the ticket counter and purchase another round-trip ticket.

Captain Eric pitched a different solution: He volunteered to fetch the garment bag himself and bring it back on his next return trip. Keith was amazed at this generous offer, but also kind of hesitant to trust this stranger with our stuff and unwilling to trouble the boat captain with this silly errand. (“Trust me,” Captain Eric said. “This happens ALL the time.”)  Keith didn’t know how to say no, so he reluctantly handed over our car keys and explained where he had parked the car.  Then we all just crossed our fingers that the bag (and the car keys!) would show up later, and Keith was free to join us on our way up to the hotel.

The city of Mackinac Island passed a local ordinance in 1898 banning the use of any motorized vehicle on the island. And, with a few exceptions, that still stands today. The main modes of transportation on Mackinac are bicycle and horse-drawn carriage. Our packs were shuttled up to the hotel by carriage, and would be delivered to our rooms later, so the five of us strolled through the village and up the hill to the Grand Hotel.

I had been excited for the kids to experience Mackinac Island. The first and last time I was ever here was in 2002, with Keith an16-month-old Natalie. This time around, I imagined setting the kids loose to roam the island on their own, on foot or on bicycle. And I looked forward treating them to a stay at the palatial Grand Hotel.

But for now, the kids seem unimpressed. The wet streets reek of horse manure. The hotel staff screwed up our room assignments, sending the kids to a room that was already occupied with someone else’s stuff. And our bags didn’t get delivered for another three hours, so we all had to wait until after dinner to shower. Really, we’re all just pretty damp and tired, and I think we all feel out of place.

The vast hotel, with it’s old-timey vacation vibe, its old-fashioned air of entitlement, and its miles and miles of plushly carpeted hallway, is like “Dirty Dancing” meets “The Talented Mr. Ripley” ... meets “The Shining.” (In fact, on a trek from our room back down to the lobby, we turned a corner and Keith jumped when he spotted a little girl in a light blue dress toddling further down the hallway.) In keeping with its Victorian heritage, everything is covered in floral patterns: on the wallpaper, on the upholstery, on the drapery, on the carpet and even on the ceiling. Between the décor and the obviously well-heeled clientele, I think the kids find it a little too fussy.

The ceiling of our room.

All of the rooms rates, of course, are sky-high here. So, I chose the very lowest rate, without the dining plan, when I made the reservation. Our rooms are very nicely appointed, spacious, and, of course, flowery, but they both have “interior views,” which, in our case, means we look out onto a roof that covers the trash collection area, and through our open window we can hear the staff dumping recyclables all evening long. 

Million-dollar view.

We were all too exhausted to get dressed up for dinner, so we ventured down the hill to eat at a restaurant with an outdoor patio.

I'm sorry to sound so cynical. It is is a truly lovely hotel. We are fortunate to have the opportunity to stay here and we plan to enjoy it. And on the plus side: Our garment bag was delivered later in the evening, with the key to our car attached. Hooray for Captain Eric!