Interlochen
We stayed 2 nights at Interlochen State Park, situated between two sandy inland lakes and centrally located about a ½ hour south of Traverse City. But in the wider world, Interlochen is known as a musical mecca. Across the street within walking distance from our park, is Interlochen Center for the Arts. THIS is where the brilliant children go to master their craft.

Interlochen Center for the Arts
Each summer, over 2500 students flock to Interlochen summer camps. These talented teenagers come from all over the nation, and even the world, to stay and play… literally. Mastering musical instruments or crooning choral medleys is just scratching the surface. There are also programs in dance, media & visual arts, writing, theater performance & production, even motion picture arts.

In teaching fine arts, performances must follow. So Interlochen hosts hundreds of concerts and events each year. Take your pick from choir concerts, symphony bands, film screenings, dance troupes, plays, jazz ensembles, individual recitals, screenplay readings and art exhibits. While the majority showcases students and faculty, some are professional concerts or plays (The New York Philharmonic is an example), and many are free to the public.

It’s Summer Camp!
Lucky for us, this is Summer Camp Season! We walked over to the spacious campus and watched the sea of giggling teens in their ubiquitous uniforms, light blue tops/dark blue bottoms (here, knickers are still in vogue), toting black instrument cases from rustic stone cabins to vast, outdoor rehearsal halls. The kids were just finishing up a multi-week musical camp. It was the last day and performances were going on in every venue. We watched a symphony rehearsal for a while, then found a recital for kid composers. We witnessed about 20 very different musical pieces; some were solos, some ensembles of 3-5, incorporating piano, string, wind and brass instruments. The cool thing is that these complex pieces were performed by AND composed by 16-17-yr-olds! Amazing. We then meandered on over to another venue where we found an excellent jazz ensemble playing the music of Duke Ellington. Overall, we were impressed by not only the talent of these kids, but their studious demeanor. With the opportunity to attend such a prestigious camp, you’d better be willing to put in the effort. Maybe there’s hope for the world after all!

Traverse City
We skipped downtown due to another crazy farmers market traffic jam and headed up the skinny Old Mission Peninsula to see the Mission Point Lighthouse. After lunch, we wound our way back to a… mall? Who cares? Well, this is a…unique…mall. Yes, this massive former mental institution had closed and deteriorated over time, but some guy had a bright idea to preserve the imposing structure and turn it into retail shops, small business studios and senior apartments – splendid! Now known as The Village at Grand Traverse Commons (bit too long a name don’t you think?) the complex consists of several buildings and a large green space to host festivals and concerts. Tidy, upscale shops line its warm, wine-cellary, brick-walled basement. Interspersed are old photos depicting the hospital’s interesting history. But the first floor still retains that clinical feeling with stark tile and double-wide swing doors, plus the dark stairwells are a liiiittle creepy. But it’s a good start to reviving this historic, one-of-a-kind structure. Worth a stop to support the preservation efforts.

Cherries. It’s what’s for dinner.
And it’s what this entire area is known for, Traverse City being the home of the Cherry Festival which attracts half a million visitors who eat massive loads of the delicious red goodness. So I have been consuming cherries like it’s going out of style… stopping at roadside stands, chopping them into salads, buying cherry goodies at local bakeries and…then there’s cherry pie everywhere!

Friske
Enter Friske Orchards just outside the village of Charlevoix. As they say, they’re “not your average fruit stand”. No they are not. They produce the BEST. CHERRY. PIE. EVER. We stopped here because they participate in Harvest Host, a national network of farms & wineries that offer free one-night stays in return for an on-your-honor purchase of their wares. (You must be completely self-sufficient -- no electric hookups, water or restrooms.) Since we are members, we decided to try it and had our best overnight stay of the trip. We parked the van out back near the apple orchard and spent a quiet evening in a field completely by ourselves. Nice.

In return for this spot to park, we bought 2 apple fritters, a bag of fresh cherries, a pint of blueberries and a ½ cherry pie. Why ½? Well, it wasn’t cheap. And I was like, why do we need a whole pie, we’ll just eat it. Right? You know what I’m saying. But after our first bite, I was seriously contemplating throwing open the door and running back to the store before they closed for the night. OMG it was literally the best pie we have ever eaten. But alas, I restrained myself, for our health’s sake and my pocketbook (a whole pie was $22.) Big mistake. Big. Huge! I regret not snatching up that 2nd pie. Every. Day.

Charlevoix
OK, onto Charlevoix which I think is the cutest town we’ve visited thus far. After lunch downtown, we watched the boats line up along the channel waiting for the drawbridge to open, allowing them all into Lake Charlevoix. Whew, I would NOT want to have a boat here. These guys were practically playing bumper cars waiting in a skinny canal, working to remain in the same precarious position with the wind whipping up, choppy waves barreling down the waterway, pushing them ever closer to the closed bridge. Yikes.

Mushroom Houses
Charlevoix is also the home of the mushroom houses. What’s a mushroom house? Built by architect Earl Young, these homes look like they were specifically made for giant hobbits, utilizing large boulders and topped with undulating cedar shake roofs. My photo is not that great, so look online for better pics. I wish we could have sneaked a peek inside, the use of gigantic fieldstone is supposed to be amazing.

Burt Lake
Lunch stop at Burt Lake State Park. For years I’d talked this place up as nirvana, wanting to show Brian where as a kid we’d regularly go camping with my parents and grandparents. I remember the camp sites right up against the water, puttering around in grandpa’s little aluminum boat, swimming in the sandy shallow lake and playing on the beach all day. Good times.
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An Old Friend
To my surprise though, as I walked up to the beach, I recognized an old, familiar friend. The vintage aluminum playground slide. Oh my gosh! I remember this! It HAS to be the same one! Those sturdy, cast iron steps. Those handrails made of what looks like plumbing pipe, worn smooth from thousands of little hands shimmying to the top. The sliding sheet metal is now shiny silver from so many sandy little bums gleefully skimming down her slick surface. Still standing after all these many, many years (and no I don’t want to count them). I’ve slipped down this slide hundreds of times. SO, of course, I HAD to go for a ride…one more time. But as I climbed to the top, unexpected tears flowed. I paused a minute, with emotional reverence for a pretty awesome childhood and remembering my grandma who used to watch me on this very slide. Here’s to you grandma. Whooooo!

Mackinaw City
This was our mid-trip rest-stop. We met my parents for a little family camping at Wilderness State Park located on the western tip of the mitten’s middle finger. Just 7 miles from Mackinaw City, this park has great access to the Mackinaw Bridge, lighthouses, Lake Michigan and Mackinaw Island. For the nature-lover, it’s an amazing boating, swimming, hiking and rock hounding destination. Since we’d been to Mackinaw several times, we laid low these four days. But we did venture into town one day in search of the popular & delicious treats of pasties & fudge, as well as my one souvenir t-shirt of the trip. (Where am I gonna put more? I live in a VAN people.) On other days, we visited the McGulpin Point Lighthouse with a view of the Mackinaw Bridge, hiked for miles through peaceful pine forest and searched for Petoskey stone fossils in Lake Michigan for hours.

Dark Sky
On our last day we drove nearby to the Headlands International Dark Sky Park. Situated along a wild and rocky section of Lake Michigan shoreline, this unique park was built specifically for stargazing. Devoid of people and therefore light pollution, it’s the perfect place to view the Northern Lights, Milky Way and meteor showers. The park is still under construction, hard at work on an events center featuring an observation telescope. So the only way to view the sky here, for now, is to walk a 1-mile trail through thick forest to the Lake where benches are available to sit and marvel at the night sky. We went during the day to check it out, but weren’t willing to hike it in the evening.

Meteor Missile!
Instead, we drove to the small boat ramp at Wilderness State Park, only a few miles away, to try to view the Perseid meteor showers. Except we were there a day early (leaving the following day), so sightings were sparse. In total, after two hours, we only saw four meteors. While everyone else spotted little shooting stars…the one I saw was a like a shooting planet. Seriously, the flare was so big it looked like a missile; maybe we’re being attacked by Wisconsin! Is it because I said you didn’t look like a mitten? Of course, everyone else was either distracted or looking in the wrong direction… so no one can corroborate my story. What? How did you not SEE that!?

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Stay tuned for the 3rd and final part of our trip…​

Up North = Pentwater to Pinconning
From the towns of Pentwater to Pinconning, an imaginary line extends across the upper 1/3 of Michigan’s Lower Peninsula; once you’ve crossed that line, you’re “up north”. Above this latitude exists, arguably, the most beautiful areas of the state. It most definitely IS the least populated, due to its long, harsh winters and lack of amenities (like Starbucks). But mild summertime temps and extensive outdoor activities attracts tourists and lake house property-seekers from the “south” (meaning Detroit, Lansing and Grand Rapids) by the hordes.

This Northwoods tranquility evokes the sort of vibe that leads to reclining (or napping) in a hammock with a good book; drinking beer with friends or family in front of a campfire while roasting marshmallows; jumping off the end of the dock into clear, cool lake-water; stargazing on the beach; paddling or tubing down a lazy, sandy-bottomed river. Where time slows to a crawl, schedules go right out the window and going for a hike always seems to be a better idea than shopping. But can’t you do that anywhere? Nope. It’s not the same. Just listen to “Michigan and Again” by the Accidentals. You’ll get the idea. This tune intones the magic of “Pure Michigan”, the state marketing slogan.

I know I’m “up north” when…
I start seeing fish mailboxes. And if you don’t know what a fish mailbox is, please, just google it. Other dead giveaways:

• tree stump statues carved with a chainsaw, usually into a bear…
• cute little wooden signs at the head of every driveway personifying their lake cottages (or mansions) as “Higgins Hollow” or “Perch Paradise”…
• every other car on the road is a 5th wheel or trailer heading to or from a week of camping “up north”…
• farm stands offering freshly picked blueberries, cherries, sweet corn, smoked coho salmon and baked goodies (just leave your money in the tin can)…
• log cabin, lumberjack or fish references in every restaurant name…
• and miles and miles of densely forested landscape polka-dotted with bass boat-filled lakes. With 3288 miles of Great Lakes shoreline (more coastline than any other state, barring Alaska) and over 11,000 inland lakes, statistically you cannot go more than 6 miles without running into water.

The Mitten
The state of Michigan looks like a right hand (at least the lower portion), complete with a “thumb”, a “middle finger” and a “pinky”. This “mitten” identification is supremely irritating to Wisconsinites who erroneously believe their state is more in the shape of a mitten (except your “thumb” looks like Skeletor’s index finger). If you ask a Michigander where they live, and you are unfamiliar with the town, they’ll immediately indicate the location by pointing to a spot on their open right hand. We just can’t help it.

The Start
It had been years since I’d gone camping Up North as a kid and Brian never had been to either side of the upper Lower Peninsula. So we planned a 3 week excursion in V-Ger the voyaging van, in between visiting our parents and family in the lower Lower Peninsula. So… onwards and upwards to fish mailbox country.

Pentwater
First stop: Pentwater State Park. We ate lunch in the van overlooking sparkling Lake Michigan (one of the benefits of touring around in your house). We did a “drive-by” but didn’t stop downtown because of a farmer’s market resulting in NO parking. Oh well. We did stroll along the breakwater and harbor entrance lined with cute vacation homes and B&B’s heading to Pentwater Lake.

Ludington
Next up, Ludington State Park. This place is one of the most sought after campgrounds in the state, typically booked 6 months in advance. With 5000 acres, there’s a lot of nature to explore: 21 miles of hiking trails, some of which are specifically designed for biking and cross country skiing; canoeing and fishing in Hamlin Lake; swimming in Lake Michigan; tubing down the Big Sable River; round that off with a nature center and the Big Sable Lighthouse… you need a few days to soak it all in.

Since I can’t plan that far ahead to get a site, I wanted to at least visit. On this sultry 90-degree day, the beach parking lot was filled and cars lined the dunesfront drive. So we veered away from the hundreds of beachgoers and hiked instead. I would have liked to visit the lighthouse, but it’s one of the few that isn’t accessible by car…hiking 3.6 miles (yup, 1.8 in & 1.8 out) is your only option. Hmmm. We weren’t game for that much of a hike so late in the afternoon. So instead, we found ourselves rambling through the peaceful sand dune forest without witnessing a single soul. Much better idea. Although we probably ended up hiking well over 2 miles in the dunes… (but what Brian doesn’t know won’t hurt him!) After schlepping up and down boardwalk stairs in the heat, we enviously watched the tubers float down the river towards Lake Michigan. Shoulda gone tubin’!

Manistee
We stayed for two nights at Orchard Beach State Park, ideally located close to Manistee and situated on a cliff overlooking Lake Michigan. The sunset views here are unbeatable. “Beach access” is via a steep, cliff-side stairway terminating into a scrubby stretch of beach. Sharp little rocks line the immediate coastline here but your reward for a little abrasion and rock slime is hard-packed sand in stand-upable, waist-deep water just 20 feet offshore. Plus, no stingrays to worry about stepping on! After much goading, wheedling & nagging, I finally convinced Brian into taking the plunge into the cool, clear waters. Chicken!

Manistee is a picturesque little seaside village boasting a 1.75-mile Riverwalk, extending from Manistee Lake past the historic Victorian downtown shops and restaurants, out to a lovely, grassy park at the Lake Michigan breakwater. We enjoyed walking much of this peaceful and non-touristy boardwalk lined with flowerbeds, shrubbery, beautiful trees and of course, lots of boat slips!

Silver Lake
This is the home of the Mack Dune Rides. A portion of these wild and amazing sand dunes at Silver Lake have been set aside for ‘dune-ing’ enjoyment by personal ATVs, dirt bikes and open-air, 20-passenger, 4x4 vehicles with huge aircraft tires made for sand-running. We got to ride in the front seat of one of these trucks so we had expansive views of the surrounding land with Silver Lake on the one side and Lake Michigan on our other. As we raced up & down each sandy hill, slid around slippery curves and bounded over moguls, we all “Wheeee!”d our way to a spectacularly empty Lake Michigan beach. This was such a cool little side trip - I had initially decided against it, but made Brian turn around. (Bah, I’m a woman…I can change my mind!) Glad I did.

Sleeping Bear Dunes
Despite having been born in Michigan, even after living here over 20 years, Brian had never seen the Sleeping Bear Dunes National Shoreline. I had been here as a kid and felt he was missing out. It’s a definite must-see for any Michigan native or visitor alike, as it’s arguably the most beautiful region in the entire state.

The Legend of Sleeping Bear – as found on www.nps.gov
“Long ago, along the Wisconsin shoreline, a mother bear and her two cubs were driven into Lake Michigan by a raging forest fire. The bears swam for many hours, but eventually the cubs tired and lagged behind. Mother bear reached the shore and climbed to the top of a high bluff to watch and wait for her cubs. Too tired to continue, the cubs drowned within sight of the shore. The Great Spirit Manitou created two islands to mark the spot where the cubs disappeared and then created a solitary dune to represent the faithful mother bear.” The two island “cubs” are the Manitou Islands (North & South) and the high cliff “mother bear” dune is still visible.

The parks’ main lure is the 7-mile Pierce Stocking Scenic Drive which threads hiking trailheads and scenic overlooks, winding initially through beech-maple forest, opening up to expansive dune views. A short walk gets you to an observation deck built 450ft high above Lake Michigan on a spectacular bluff overlooking the warm and inviting shoreline. From the cliff edge, we can see tiiiny beings easily sliding down to the shore below…and then truuuudging back up those steeeep 450ft, ever so slooooowly. It looks like such a cool thing to do. Except I know better…

The Longest Hike
As a kid, we hiked a nearby trail for what felt like hours towards the lake, trudging through soft sand and fragrant juniper, buffalo berry and jack pine. “It’s just over that next bluff, I can smell the water”, my dad said. The next hill came and went and still no water. And…again. And…again. “No really, I know we’re close.” Finally we get to Lake Michigan. Except it’s 400ft down (just like this overlook). And at a 60-degree angle (just like this overlook). Shining up like a siren from below, my dad couldn’t help it…he went down the slope… well, slid really. Mom and I waited. And waited. And waited. It’s so steep you can’t see the bottom in some areas so for awhile we couldn’t see him. We waited and waited some more. Well over an hour later, he finally heaves himself back up, exhausted…and we still have to slog all the way back to the car. Yeah. I remember that, and I’m not going down there.

See, going down is the fun part. Whoohoo!  Run, run, run! Or more likely, slide on your butt. But… they say, if you go down, expect to take at least 1-2 hours of trudging in soft sand to get back up. Take one step up, slide down a ½-step or ¾-step. People are apparently rescued all the time because they underestimate just how HARD it is. At the above particular overlook along the Pierce Stocking Scenic Drive, lots of people do this very thing (despite the discouraging warning signs). We didn’t. It was uber-hot that day and I didn’t want to spend 2 hours climbing. So we left it to the uber-crazies.

Not uber-crazy, but mildly-crazy?
Brian would say right here “Wait…YOU are the crazy one because you made me do The Dune Climb that same day!" OK, that’s true. The climb down to the water would have been excruciating in that heat. The angle was very steep and the sand swallowed up your entire foot with each step. I knew we were not up to THAT task. But we HAD to climb a dune. I mean, what the heck were we DOING here if we didn’t, at a minimum, perform the requisite DUNE CLIMB. EVERYbody’s doin’ it.

The Dune Climb
The Dune Climb is an easily accessible, not horribly steep, dune with slightly more compacted sand, where EVERYBODY who wimps out on the Lake climb goes to climb a dune to say you’ve done it. 2-year-olds do it. Pregnant women do it. Old men do it. Because that’s what you DO. But no one realizes just how much it’s still going to kick your a** until you’re in the middle of the hill. I witnessed overweight women and thoroughly fit women alike, stopping at every other step, longingly looking up to the top, swearing and shaking their head. One very athletic woman (not me) said, “I thought I was in decent shape”. Yeah, I hear ya.

So of course it’s hot. And we are both dying. And the sand is burning our bare feet. And it takes forever to get to the top and Brian is mostly-fake-whining the entire way just to make it plain that this here 1-step up/½-step back scenario is all my doing. Finally, we get to the top and the view is amazing. So totally worth the effort and severe dehydration. Brian: “Don’t listen to her…run away.” Then I wanted to continue over to the next bluff; Brian did not. Me: “But I think we can see Lake Michigan from that dune over there…” Hmmm…like father like daughter. Brian: Puts foot down. Party pooper. So we both ran back down the dune to the parking lot like little kids (OK, I did) and downed an entire Gatorade in seconds. Dune climb… check.

We could have spent more time here but the campgrounds were packed and I had an agenda. This place is a hiking and biking dreamsicle in summer. Nearby, paved bike trails run for miles and sandy hiking trails meander along bluffs and into the forest. Next time, I’d like to canoe or kayak down the Platte River and do some more hiking. Autumn would be a beautiful time to explore this area.

Funny story.
Part of the Sleeping Bear Dunes is the Glen Haven Maritime Museum and Lifesaving Station. You know, the kind that used open whaling boats trolled out to sea with a line and reeled back in once the rescued were on board. Most wrecks here happened close to shore, so connecting the boat to the station with a long rope actually worked much of the time. Anyway, I was walking down the wooden boardwalk to the beach and noted the last step was nearly covered in blowing sand. I even TOLD Brian to watch his step. After taking pictures, do ya THINK I’d remember my own advice just one minute ago? NOOO. Headed back up the stairs, that first sand-covered step reared up out of nowhere, I tripped and took a nose dive…elbow-first.

It was one of those slo-mo moments when you instantly think…someone is probably taping this and I’ll end up on YouTube tomorrow. Of course, I instinctively protected my expensive camera by cradling it in my right hand…landing full force on my elbow. Touchdown! Fortunately for me, I landed in fluffy sand. Otherwise, I’m pretty sure my elbow would be broken. But I DID manage to gouge out said elbow real good and blood started pouring. It took me 10 minutes to wash all the sand out of my raw skin. Fun stuff. Luckily, this was the only casualty the entire trip.

Glen Arbor
Shocked, shocked, shocked at the amount of tourists swarming in this TINY town. We had lunch and ran through The Cherry Republic store which sells all things cherry…cherry salsa, chocolate cherries, cherry wine… and cherry pie (which I HAD to take home for later).

Leland
Even more shocked at even more tourists clamoring all over the dinky hamlet of Leland, one of the only working commercial fishing villages still in existence in Michigan. We had to park a ½ mile away and walk to downtown. Here at the mouth of the Leland River lies the historically preserved, miniature fishing village called Fishtown. Small fishing boats and grey, weathered wooden shanties linked by a crooked boardwalk hovering over the water on stilts, pays homage to what these commercial villages looked like over one hundred years ago. Except in addition to the fisherman and their catch, smokehouses and drying fishing nets… we stroll past several quaint shops in rustic, clapboard shacks selling cheese, wine, ice cream, art and “up north” decor. It’s really a cute place and a definite ‘must-stop’…but we were overloaded by the heat and the crowds and…well…we were just DONE. Time to get to the campground…

Leelanau
Our next campground was Leelanau State Park, situated at the tip of the Leelanau Peninsula; if you look at the Michigan outline, it’s the mitten’s “pinky”. The Grand Traverse Lighthouse is located on site. Despite its proximity to the Lake, campsites are nestled in thick woods and there’s not much of a beach – most of the shoreline is rocky marsh. This is a rustic campground, meaning NO electricity, no water and pit toilets. But with our solar panel, despite the 100% tree cover, we can still manage for a day, maybe two, without plugging in…a nice feeling. And you can’t beat $14 a night! With lots of open sites, this is a great place to go for serene seclusion.

Northport/Suttons Bay
​Travelling down the east side of the Leelanau Peninsula we walked through the charming town of Northport, strolled along the marina watching the boats, and purchased a loaf of delicious cherry breakfast bread from a local bakery. After a yummy lunch in the neighboring town of Suttons Bay, we did some wine tasting at French Valley Vineyards overlooking the Traverse Bay. If you like wine, come to the ‘Pinky’. With a wine trail of over 25 different wineries in the immediate area, wine aficionados go Loopy for Leelanau!

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​More trip to come...!​

The Mighty Eighth Air Force Museum                        
This museum/memorial, celebrates the Mighty Eighth, a division of the Air Force, telling the story of WWII’s American bomber boys. These brave soldiers fought in B-17 Flying Fortresses and B-24 Liberator bombers at 25,000ft, tirelessly wreaking havoc on German defenses.

Resting in the middle of the museum is their prized piece, a restored B-17 Flying Fortress, the “City of Savannah”. Several other planes were on static display, including a Boeing Stearman, the bi-plane my grandfather flew as a flight instructor. Additional exhibits included a typical French home with secret attic space used as a safe-house for hiding downed airmen… as well as a POW camp detailing prison life for captured Allies forces. Examples of artifacts donated by former POWs include a blanket sewn from airmen patches and a Nazi flag signed by POWs after liberation. Pretty powerful stuff.

We learned these bomber boys stood only a one-in-five chance of surviving their standard tour of duty of twenty-five missions. 1:5. The loss numbers were astounding…and humbling when you consider it… As we meandered, two very old men slowly hobbled through the corridor with a granddaughter (my age) videotaping their witty commentary. These two friends were acutely familiar with the stories we were merely reading on paper; the photos and crewmen names meant something - they knew them. They lived it. And both miraculously survived their ‘one-in-five chance’ tours. One was a founder of this museum. We talked with them a bit and thanked them for their service. Wow. Just. Wow.

Charleston Tea Plantation          
I am addicted to iced tea. So when our friends told me about this place, it was top priority! The Charleston Tea Plantation is the only tea manufacturer that grows its own tea leaves here in America - everyone else imports their leaves. Expert tea taster and horticulturalist, Bill Hall, took advantage of Charleston’s optimal soil, temperature and rainfall for growing tea plants and founded the plantation in 1987. Now the company is associated with the big guys, Bigelow. For just $10 you can tour the manicured tea fields, the sapling greenhouse and learn how tea plants are grown & harvested. The best part? Free samples!

Firefly Distillery             
We are in love. With Firefly Apple Pie Moonshine.
Thirty minutes from Charleston and tucked in the middle of nowhere amongst the wooded, marshy, South Carolina low country is a little distillery you definitely need to visit. Even if you’re not a big fan of imbibing, the ambiance is worth a trip. It’s just quintessential south. Like fireflies in tinted Ball canning jars? Yes. Think super-cool, wood-barn tasting room, twinkling white Christmas lights, picnic tables, and laid-back, warm summer afternoons set in the midst of grape vines and iconic live oak trees draped in… (Haven’t you been paying attention? We’re in the south!)…more frilly Spanish moss.

Saturdays offer live music and a delicious pulled pork food truck. Then choose your poison: wine-tasting from Deep Water Vineyards or spirits-tasting from Firefly…or both. Firefly is known for being the first to make Sweet Tea Vodka made from actual tea (from the Charleston Tea Plantation of course); and it’s delish. But our fav was the Apple Pie Moonshine. Mix it with the Caramel Shine and you get… Caramel Apple Pie. To. Die. For.

Boone Hall Plantation
One item on my agenda was to visit a real plantation house. And Charleston has several to choose from… Brian wouldn’t hear of going to more than one (the tea planation did not count since there isn’t a house). While most of the original civil-war-era plantation houses no longer exist, many were rebuilt in a similar grand style. So, despite the fact that this plantation has remarkably existed since 1681, the Colonial Revival mansion itself was built in 1936 by a Canadian Ambassador.

The famous Avenue of Oaks is reason enough to visit this landmark. The long, scenic driveway lined with nearly one hundred, 150-yr-old trees, is long-vaunted as the one shown in Gone with the Wind leading up to Tara…as a photograph, not a live shot. But the miniseries North and South as well as scenes from The Notebook were filmed in this dramatic southern setting, dripping with…you guessed it…Spanish moss.

Set aside about 3 hours to leisurely meander the grounds and do the tours, all of which are included in the fee. A guided tour of the first floor includes the formal dining room with imported antique wooden table, ceiling-high mirrors and fine china, a library with vintage tomes lining bookshelves with doors uniquely shielded in chicken-wire (to allow air flow and keep humidity at bay), and the charming sun room with its unique brick floor. Unfortunately, taking photos of the interior is a no-no.

Next, get on a 700-acre motorized tour and learn about current farming techniques and the former brick-making business. Visit the enclosed butterfly garden and watch graceful Monarchs flit about (my personal favorite). View a presentation about the Gullah culture and see preserved slave quarters showcasing period relics. Stroll the rose garden and marvel at beautiful blooms… 100-yr-old pink roses, bright orange daylilies and sleek black petunias.

In addition to maintaining the house and immediate grounds as a historical museum, Boone Hall is still a working plantation. Having continuously grown crops for over 300 years, they are one of the oldest farms in America and use their massive acreage to its fullest potential. Boone Hall Farms is their adjacent farmer’s market which sells all manner of fruits and veges grown on site. Dozens of local restaurants feature their fresh produce in farm-to-table menus. An intricate corn maze is professionally designed by a different sponsor each fall for their Halloween pumpkin patch. Locals flock to U-Pick patches of strawberries, blueberries, even tomatoes.

Oozing romantic, southern charm, Boone Hall is an unforgettable venue for weddings, concerts and corporate events. With enormous swaths of lush, grassy fields they also host festivals: the Oyster Festival, a Strawberry Fest, the Taste of Charleston, even a Zombie run! Their largest event is the annual Scottish Games, enticing over 6,000 people from all over the world to watch Highland Dancing, Conan-style athletic competitions (cool stuff like axe-throwing and log-lifting) and, of course, bagpippery (yes, I just made up that word). These days, Boone Hall does so much more than just conserving their museum status; they are intricately woven into the identity of this small north-Charleston community.

Myrtle Beach, Land of Mini-Golf and Campground Resorts
After Charleston, we cruised through Myrtle Beach, and gazed at our surroundings partly awestruck but mostly unimpressed. This budget vacation haven just seems like row after row of cheap hotels and bars lining the oceanfront drive with tourists galore stuffing the beach. But we only spent a couple hours here, so who knows, maybe we were missing something cool.

However, MB is clearly the mini-golf capital of the world. Don’t get me wrong, I love mini-golf (Brian wouldn’t stop to play). But just how many putt-putts does one city need? 50 apparently. Literally. FIFTY. And must ALL the fountains throughout town run with toilet-bowl-cleaner-electric-blue-tinted water? Is this normal, or a cruel prank? (And I thought St. Augustine was a tiny bit cheesy. That was nothing!)

We toured a campground right on the beach because their website stated it had 900 campsites. I thought it was a misprint - it wasn’t. Incredibly, there ARE 900-some campsites and we were shocked to see the place was nearly full. Multiply 900 x 2, 3 or 4 people per site? The potential numbers are astounding. And sites are so tightly packed you can hear your neighbor chewing gum. This ‘resort campground’ mini-city included a restaurant, waterpark and pool on a mile of beachfront; it even had an on-site RV repair shop and a hotel-style guarded entrance with concierge who only gave us a 1 hour lookey-loo pass. Like a mini-‘The Villages’, golf carts rule here. There must be hundreds, veering around the miniature streets and lining the beach-front like sardines. People enjoy this place for its amenities, incredible access to the beach and kids can run around like chickens, but this circus is NOT our cup of tea. Especially for an outrageous $80 a day. Pass.

The Rest of the Story
So we skipped hectic Myrtle Beach and stayed at the quieter Carolina Beach State Park near Wilmington, NC. This is a nice state park on the Cape Fear River with great boating, fishing and paddle-boarding, new electric sites and beautiful hiking in a sandy pine forest. Highly recommended.

​After that we had a great time visiting Brian’s other aunt and more cousins for a few days in New Bern, NC. Heading back home to Michigan, we stopped briefly in Ohio to visit a couple friends we hadn’t seen in many, many years. But we had to get back by a certain date. Why? Guns and Roses! Brian got in some overdue brotherly bonding time at this concert in Detroit with his brother Matt. But do you think he’d take a picture for my blog? Bah! 

​Our 3-week, 3000-mile southeast sojourn began in Atlanta, and in a really round-about way, ended in Michigan. After travelling south to The Okefenokee, our objective was to visit family in Orlando, FL and New Bern, NC with specific sightseeing goals in between along the coast. St. Augustine, Savannah and Charleston were three cities we’d always been curious about, often wondering if either would be an optimal choice for “settling down” in the (faraway) future.

St. Augustine, FL
Who doesn’t want to see the “oldest city in America”? In all honesty, this town is made for strolling but the heat and humidity were so bad those couple days, we just didn’t have enough oomph. So we bought Old Town Trolley tickets that allowed us to tour the town at our leisure with “hopping on-off” privileges. It was well worth the price due to the severe heat. And we learned a bit of city history from our drivers as we rode along. I really loved the small-town feel of St. Augustine. It wasn’t overly crowded with tourists or traffic, the back streets were quiet and quaint and well-kempt, the outskirts seemed placid and liveable - it felt like a really nice town to live in. But as a tourist, I was mildly disappointed in the tourist trappiness of all the separate “museums”.

Colonial History
I guess I assumed St. Augustine would somewhat emulate the same Colonial village style as Williamsburg or Jamestown. But St. Augustine cannot compete on such a grand scale as those, mostly because all their historic landmarks are downtown amongst other businesses, all owned and operated separately (I assume). At the Visitor’s Center we paid for entry into the Colonial Quarter, a very small area displaying colonial times exhibits following the history of St. Augustine. We paid extra to enter the old fort Castillo de San Marcos and witnessed a live cannon blast presentation complete with dressed-up Spaniard Militiamen.

How many Oldests are there?
St. Augustine was founded in 1565 and is the oldest continually occupied settlement in America. So I get it, it’s the oldest city…so everything is the “oldest”. We skipped the Old Jail, the Oldest Store, the Oldest Schoolhouse and the Oldest House. Each of these “oldest” (and tiny) buildings had a separate fee and, at an approx. extra $10pp PER “oldest”, it entered into the ridiculous. This isn’t Disneyland, right? Yeah, you could buy a higher priced Trolley ticket that included slightly discounted, all-inclusive passes, but it wasn’t cheap. I felt mildly hustled. Where was the Oldest Ice Cream Parlor? I’d have paid for that!

What? No Fountain of Youth?
Top that off with the Potter’s Wax Museum, a Ripley’s Believe it or Not, and a Pirate Museum. Everywhere we turned…another cheese-trap. I had wanted to see the Fountain of Youth. But, already over budget and consulting TripAdvisor (what would we do without TA?), I couldn’t tell if it was just another money grab. Do I want to pay heavily just to see a stupid fountain? Sigh. We are tourists on a budget so we didn’t go. In hindsight, we probably should have skipped the Colonial Quarter and went to the Fountain instead. Maybe next time.

Almost Free
Instead, we saw some pretty cool free stuff to balance out our spending spree. The beautiful Basilica Cathedral downtown is worth a peek. Wandering around the peaceful gardens and riverwalk of Mission de Nombre de Dios, a Catholic mission whose origin dates to 1565, was worth a small donation. And a self-tour of Flagler College is a must-do. This posh hotel-turned university is an excellent example of Spanish Architecture. Its dominant feature is the main hall foyer boasting stained glass and intricate mosaics designed by Tiffany (no, not the 80’s one-hit-wonder).  On another afternoon, we swam at the pristine and surprisingly uncrowded beach on Anastasia Island and toured the St. Augustine lighthouse and museum. The trip was not complete without taste-testing bourbon and gin at the St. Augustine Distillery (which by the way is now the #1 “Thing to Do” on TripAdvisor).

I love it here. So why can’t I live here?
We stayed at Anastasia Island State Park for only one night since it was booked solid. The beach here is awesome, but the adjacent campground is nestled in amongst lots of trees. Upon awaking, I spied a large spider making a web from a tree to my side mirror. I know, I know. One big, creepy spider - get over it. But as Brian made his way outside to “get it” for me, and then around the van to unplug our powercord, he found (nearly ran into) THREE more that had created LARGE webs overnight, perma-linking our van to the surrounding trees. Imagine this in a “compounding interest” sort of way…had we stayed for more than just one night…oh, the horror! Our house was quickly becoming enveloped into a gigantic spider cocoon…never to be seen or heard from again. Forget it. I’m out!

Surviving Colin
Leaving St. Augustine, Tropical Storm Colin was headed our way. As we arrived at the Savannah Visitors Center late in the afternoon, they were preparing to close early for the impending storm. It had rained all day and advisories for potential flooding were issued for that evening. This should be interesting. But we managed to get through with barely a scratch. The next day dawned cloudy but non-threatening - in the clear!

Oh Savannah
Savannah is one of those cities you don’t forget. Slow and sultry like a smooth jazz tenor, Savannah implies sophistication but isn’t overly snooty. It felt comfortable rambling along the quiet back streets, marveling at the countless historic (and pricey) Victorian homes, lounging on an ornate park bench in one of several peaceful neighborhood squares romantically bedecked with statues, fountains and moss-shrouded trees, watching as every-day America runs our gauntlet: the millennial joggers, the t-shirted tourists, the businessman and the horse-drawn buggy-man, the be-bopping teenagers and the purple-haired student-artists, the latte-sippers and the cell-phone yappers…all the while imagining this same idyllic scene in this same idyllic square 100 years ago (minus the Pokemon). We sit and listen to the relaxed vibe of a gentile city and we are content. Annapolis invokes in us this same feeling; we always said if we were forced to live downtown in a city, it would be Annapolis. I now include Savannah.

Georgia State Railroad Museum     
This was a very cool, uncrowded and inexpensive museum detailing Savannah railroad history. We spent two hours here and definitely got our money’s worth. Several impressive old railroad cars were on site awaiting or in process of restoration; we got a personal tour of two such cars. We both enjoyed the steam engine presentation and another where we got to help operate a real human-powered (double-levered) handcar. Brian loved seeing the antique foundry equipment, especially the giant metal drill press and The Buffalo Complete Woodworker, an all-in-one drill press, sander, router and planer. He was in heaven. 

Skidaway Island State Park    
We camped at Skidaway Island State Park in Savannah for four nights. And while the entire park is hidden under a tree-covered canopy, with no sunlight to be found, we had NO problems with bugs. Zero. They spray for mosquitos. The bathrooms were very clean. The sites were huge. They even had washer/dryer facilities. We LOVED this park. And there was hardly anyone in it. Too bad for them, but awesome for us.

Old Savannah Tours     
Again we bought tickets for an “on/off” trolley, this time from Old Savannah Tours. Because this city is pretty large, using the trolley was worth it. This particular trolley places character actors in certain spots along the route who jump on and give you a little dose of their particular history. We saw Forrest Gump on one occasion! Interesting note: our tour bus driver said he’d lived there for 40 years; but he wasn’t FROM there. Apparently, to be FROM Savannah, you had to have been BORN there.

The Pirate House                          
Built around 1753, this former inn & bar was a haven for grog-seeking pirates of yore. Tales are told of unconscious, drunken souls being shanghaied from The Pirate House, later awaking at sea to discover themselves pressed into service on a ship bound for Singapore or other far-flung port. Scenes from the book Treasure Island take place in Savannah and this very house, with Captain Flint dying upstairs. Nowadays, it’s a very popular restaurant that manages to retain that old swashbuckler feel, festooned with brass fixtures and wooden planked floors and trestle tables, without feeling too campy. Our lunch consisted of sumptuous southern comfort food: you got yer fried chicken, fried catfish, fried okra, biscuits, green beans, collard greens with bacon, black-eyed peas, mac & cheese, mashed potatoes, mashed sweet potato, peach cobbler. How can you go wrong with THAT menu?
​
Tybee Island
One day, we ventured over to Tybee Island for a day at the beach. We opted for the northern beach which was less busy than the jam-packed Pier area. Needing to park in crowded paid lots twice that day, we were happy to be driving our van that can fit in a normal parking spot, rather than a big rig where we’d have to spend a half hour just to find a parking spot and THEN walk a mile to the objective. Winners.

Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil                      
Brian isn’t especially into the ghost tours that are hawked everywhere in Savannah. I was ambivalent - I’d already been on one here many years ago (it was pretty interesting). So searching for another free thing to do, I happened upon the Bonaventure Cemetery which is featured in the above book/movie, making both the city of Savannah and the cemetery legendary. (I’d never read the book, but it’s now on my list.) But Brian wasn’t overly thrilled with this choice of tourist activity. Who goes to a cemetery on vacation? Apparently a lot…it’s a thing. Heck, TripAdvisor says it’s cool (#4 of 204 of Things to Do in Savannah, can’t beat that), plus, did I mention it’s FREE? So zip it, we’re going.

Bonaventure wasn’t creepy at all (at least not in daylight!) but hauntingly beautiful. Now 170 years old, this former plantation consists of 100 acres of quiet, intersecting paths. We strolled among the beautiful old stones, some dating back to the late 1860’s during the Civil War. Several were interestingly marked with “CSA” veteran emblems (Confederate States of America). Many memorials involved huge granite monuments, carved statues and intricately fenced and flowered family plots.

The avenue of stately live oaks was impressive in their age and sheer massiveness, branches draped in veiled moss swaying mournfully in the breeze. The illustrious John Muir was so captivated during his visit, he devoted an entire chapter to this cemetery in 1867: “I gazed awe-stricken as one new-arrived from another world. Bonaventure is called a graveyard, a town of the dead, but the few graves are powerless in such a depth of life. The rippling of living waters, the song of birds, the joyous confidence of flowers, the calm, undisturbable grandeur of the oaks, mark this place of graves as one of the Lord’s most favored abodes of life and light." Agreed.

​To Be Continued…