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I was breathing a little heavier, straining with each successive pull of the rope. On a summer afternoon, I had anticipated a relaxing cruise with my wife gliding across the calm, indigo waters of the broad bay. Instead, I had raised my hand.
Schooner Manitou
Photo by Frank Hosek
We four volunteers, would-be sailors unknown to each other just an hour before, were hauling, hand over hand, on the ½” thick halyard as we struggled to raise the main sail to the top of the mainmast.
What started out as a fun and simple matter quickly devolved into real work. Before long the veins were popping out on our forearms as we fell to the task.
The hoops of the sail rose slowly up the mast, stained tobacco brown by years of an applied concoction of petroleum jelly and unrefined oil to ease this matter of sail hoisting.
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Reaching the top, the sail cracked to attention as the wind caught it. As the captain spun the wheel, the 114’ two-masted schooner Manitou heeled over sending unsecured items skittering across the deck. Soon, we were hurling along at nearly 9 knots across the sparkling waters of Grand Traverse Bay.
Although the Manitou looks like a ship that might have plied these waters in the 1880s, it was built nearly a century later. The wood deck has seen over four decades of passengers experiencing what travel on the Great Lakes must have been like 150 years ago.
As a gentle spray from the waves striking against the hull fell upon the deck like so many sparkling diamonds, our view of Traverse City, a picturesque northern Michigan city that is perched at the southern end of the Bay, was that of serene splendor. Forests terminated on smooth, sandy beaches that disappeared beneath the cool clear surface of the bay.
It was a good introduction to the city known as the Cherry Capital of the World.
The City
Located in the northwestern Lower Peninsula of Michigan, we had arrived in Traverse City the day before beneath a bright and warm late summer sun and settled into the Bayshore Resort Hotel. One of several family-oriented beach hotels nestled on the sandy shores of West Grand Traverse Bay.
The post-Labor Day crowd leaned decidedly towards couples who, like us, were taking advantage of the return of the school year. Our room’s balcony overlooked the beach and the broad, expansive bay.
Embracing the sunny afternoon, we walked to Front Street, Traverse City’s diverse main street. Colorful turn-of-the-century storefronts with their brick sidewalks offered up a variety of boutiques selling everything.
Offerings included Doug Murdick’s Fudge or Peace and Love and Little Donuts with their hand-decorated mini fry-cakes. There was also The Spice & Tea Merchants with their vast selection of hand-blended spices and loose-leaf teas and Peppercorn with its walls of kitchen gadgets. At On The Rocks, we found handmade jewelry featuring Leland blues, a stone unique to the area.
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Tasty Cherry Republic
Then there was Cherry Republic. Cherry Republic is a bowl full of tart cherries and then some. If it’s been imagined with cherries, it could be found here. The cherry orchards of Traverse City produce millions of pounds of cherries annually. Every summer, the City celebrates its status as the cherry capital of the world with its National Cherry Festival.
Cherry Republic takes full advantage of these delectably tart little morsels. As I grazed my way through the store from one sample station to the next, I discovered cherry salsa and cherry mustard, chocolate-covered cherries, rich jams, pies, cookies and even trail mix, all with cherries.
On one side of the store was a 20’ bar for sampling their cherry wines, as well as Cherry Hard Cider. For a softer sip there were cherry sodas and juices.
We walked out with several bags whereupon I immediately began to rethink my choices as I realized we had over a mile to return to our hotel. Oh well, I needed to walk off the cherry “feast”.
Afterward, we rewarded ourselves with a cold one at MiddleCoast Brewing. Located on State Street, it’s housed in an oversized building that was the original location of the Traverse City Police department stables. A German pilsner and an easy-going session IPA eased us into the evening.
The following morning, we were up before sunrise, taking advantage of a quiet beach. We strolled across a mile of sand occasionally stopping while I attempted to perfect stone skipping skills with little luck.
Picking Apples
Photo by Frank Hosek
After breakfast, we headed out of town seeking apples. One of the few original family farms still in operation, Rennie Orchards in Williamsburg offers u-pick apples.
Fifteen minutes later we pulled onto a gravel lane past an ancient, weathered barn and its accompanied farmhouse and parked near a low-hung, red-painted shed with a tractor and hay wagon parked in front.
After petting one of the local cats, we joined Brooklyn, our young escort, on a four-wheeler, and bounced across the fields towards a line of young trees bent over with some of the largest Honey Crisp apples we’d ever seen.
I couldn’t resist pulling one off a limb and taking a huge bite into the cream-colored flesh. The sweet juices dripped down my chin. A couple of pecks later we waved goodbye to Brooklyn and the cat.
That afternoon, we had our introduction to the schooner Manitou. Berthed at Discovery Pier on Bay Shore Drive, Kathy, myself and some 50 or so fellow passengers stood before the two-masted schooner as Oliver, the ship’s mate, went over some of the protocols.
Items such as the whereabouts of life jackets and how to wear them if necessary and being aware of swinging booms and keeping your head below them were just a few of the safety items.
One matter that got a lot of attention was the operation of the marine head (toilet). The intricacies of which, I noticed, kept most away from it during the length of the trip.
It was shortly after this that Oliver asked for volunteers and we were off and sailing on a wonderful, and all too short, cruise.
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Gallagher’s Farm Market and Bakery
Gallagher’s is a local, seasonal family-run farm, market and bakery specializing in locally grown fruits and vegetables. On this morning, however, I walked past bins of heritage tomatoes, colorful squash, juicy blueberries and bags of ginger gold and Paula Red apples. Instead, I went through the doors of the bakery and into yeasty warm heaven.
Shelves lined the walls filled with honey, maple syrup, wine and jams and jellies. But it was the baked goods that drew me. Freshly baked sugar, blueberry and pumpkin donuts and breads of all kinds presented themselves; cracked wheat, cinnamon nut, garlic and even pizza bread.
We pulled out of the parking lot with a couple of bags of freshly baked wonders. Wonderful smells filled the truck and sugar cascaded onto my shorts as I munched away on a donut.
We were headed to the Old Mission Peninsula.
Old Mission Peninsula
Photo by Frank Hosek
The Old Mission Peninsula is a 19-mile finger of land that juts out into Grand Traverse Bay, splitting it in two. In 1839 a minister established a mission amongst the native tribes, for which the peninsula is named.
It’s a beautiful drive, usually within sight of the bay, over a gently undulating landscape, past fruit stands, and vineyards with their fields of grapes arranged in tight, neat little rows.
We headed north to the very tip of the peninsula and Mission Point Lighthouse. The 1870-built lighthouse, a dignified white clapboard building with its beacon settled neatly on its roof like an oversized birthday candle, sits overlooking the shore.
The surrounding forest was crisscrossed with hiking trails allowing us to stretch our legs.
On our way back down the peninsula, we stopped to sample some of the local creations. Situated on the 45th parallel which is roughly the same latitude as some of Europe’s best-known wine regions, the peninsula is home to ten wineries.
We made a quick stop to sample some of the local vintage at Brys Estate Vineyard and Winery and took advantage of the Adirondack chairs of the lawn bar and enjoyed a little quiet time.
The Village at Grand Traverse Commons
The Northern Michigan Asylum, built in 1885, was one of 73 so-called “Kirkbride Plan” hospitals constructed in the country. Abandoned and considered unusable in 1989, today, The Village at Grand Traverse Commons, as it is now called, houses boutiques, restaurants, wineries and even apartments.
A campus of large, imposing buildings made of soothing cream-colored brick reminded me of chateaus. As we tried to get our bearings, we found ourselves lost in the labyrinth of corridors and converted rooms.
In our wanderings, we stumbled upon the Haberdashery which tilted towards the man in your life, and the Crystal Lake Alpaca Boutique with all things, well, alpaca. There were dozens of shops each with a keen sense of individuality.
For a historical look at the Common’s past, we signed up for a tour that took us through unrenovated buildings dating back to 1883. We spent nearly two hours with a guide exploring the inner workings of the buildings and learning the history and background of the Kirkbride Plan. In addition, we learned how Thomas Kirkbride, its founder, spread his theories regarding the healing of the mentally ill.
Even in the light of the midday sun, the echoes of our footsteps bouncing off empty, brick hallways as shadows cast across the ancient floors were a bit eerie.
For dinner, we ate Hopscotch Brick Oven and Taproom. Their large beer garden is equipped with two fire pits which helped to warm the evening’s cool breezes. The menu offers an array of classic pub grub, but we settled on their very good brick-oven Margarita pizza.
Weather Takes a Turn
Our final morning saw a drastic change in the weather. We woke to angry waters crashing onto the beach as charcoal grey clouds hung low over the horizon occasionally lashing the landscape with wind-swept showers.
So, we put on an extra layer of warmth and headed out onto a renowned local highway, the M-22. The M-22 runs from Traverse City up the Leelanau Peninsula and then south along Lake Michigan taking you to Sleeping Bear Dunes, a National Lakeshore.
We spent the day exploring picturesque beach towns and wondrous views from towering sand dunes along Lake Michigan.
That evening we stood on the empty beach and watched the sun set across the bay’s waters seemingly setting them ablaze. Although we were saying goodbye, it felt as though the bay was saying hello.
If you go:
Traverse City has a small airport, Cherry Capital Airport, with a few direct flights or you can easily connect through Detroit or Chicago. However, it’s an easy 4-hour drive through some delightful countryside from either city.
- Traverse City
- Schooner Manitou
- Bayshore Resort
- The Village at Grand Traverse Commons
- Rennie Orchards
- Gallagher’s Farm Market and Bakery
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