I find that whenever I bring up the topic of Michigan, people have a story to tell about their favorite place.   Some have childhood stories to tell of carefree summers spent Grandpa’s cottage.  Some share wonderful memories  of family fun when mom and dad would rent a cottage every year.  For others, there is the one and only lake for fishing, or that beautiful lake they drive by to work every morning.  And, of course, everyone who  owns a piece of lake or water front property thinks it is the best  around.  And, often people have a story to tell of an interesting place or town.

Do you have a favorite lake?  We would love to hear about it.  Be our guest. We are open to having you as our guest to write a post about your favorite lake. Tell us what  it is about this lake that makes it your favorite lake.

Of course there are some rules.  We like our site and we want others to also. We are sure you understand.

·         A post is not an advertisement for your product or services. The idea of the post is to present information of interest and value to the readers of Waterlandliving.com

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You will have to read the story of Big Red – The Official Calculator of the National Debt. If at any time you have the urge to check the latest figures you can do so by simply viewing the calculator anytime on line.

Or, if you like, you can check out the national debt page on Face Book. You can even sign up to be its friend. You will have to get in line after the 1,700 people who have already signed up.

We will probably visit this subject again, as it looks as if it is not going away soon.

But for her eighty-fourth birthday, my sweet mother gets what she wants, and what she wanted was to visit Mackinac Island and experience the Hotel’s famous luncheon buffet with my sister, Diane, brother Terry, and me.

If Mackinac Island is an experience, the Grand Hotel is the crown jewel of that experience. You first see it as you approach the island on the jet ferry, gleaming white on the wooded hillside, as imposing as a citadel and regal as a queen on her throne.

But it’s only when you round the final curve in the road in your horse-drawn taxi, and the Hotel looms into view, that you really begin to get a sense of the immensity, splendor, and pomp of the place. From its lush, flower-lined walks, to its lavish interior, to its broad, 660-foot-long front porch, everything about the Grand Hotel spells opulence.

Now, the purpose of this blog is not to promote commercial enterprises. It is to broaden people’s awareness of all that Michigan has to offer, with a focus on outdoors experiences. But there is some leeway within that framework, and the Grand Hotel fits simply because there’s nothing else like it in Michigan. If you never visit it yourself, you can at least get a whiff of its grandeur here. Yet the four photos on this page can only scratch the surface of the Hotel and its landscape—the lush gardens, the view of the Bridge across the Straits of Mackinac…I could go on, piling feature upon feature, and still not adequately convey the fantastic setting that is the Grand Hotel.

So let me focus on the luncheon. If you’re just visiting for the day rather than staying at the hotel, the cost of the celebrated buffet is, as I had mentioned, forty dollars, ten of which is an admittance fee to the hotel grounds, and the remainder of which covers your actual meal. It’s the kind of money most of us shell out only rarely, and I can assure you that the one-of-a-kind epicurean experience you get in return is worth it. The vast dining room is not so much a room as a landscape, a panorama of tables attended by nattily attired waiters and waitresses. In its center you’ll find three long buffet tables and two dessert tables, with offerings every bit as sumptuous as you’d expect.

Lunch at the Hotel is nothing to rush through. Take your time. Try the smoked fish—it’s fabulous. So is the shrimp-macaroni salad, and you can’t go wrong with the pork. If you still have room after sampling all the meal offerings—and that’s a big if—the dessert tables await you. I can recommend the rhubarb pie, washed down with a cup of rich, black coffee..

Afterwards, the broad stretch of the front porch beckons. You’ll find chairs and lounges a-plenty, scattered along the length of the porch. But chances are, you just want to stroll and enjoy breathtaking view. Did you bring your camera? Good. Because everywhere you turn you’ll find something you want to capture with your lens. A view of the Mackinac Bridge spanning the distant waters. The long facade of the hotel, with its golden awnings and bright flower beds. A road, framed through an archway, winding its way upslope toward a picturesque hillside community.

When you finally do leave—when you’ve seen enough of model ships, banquet halls, bright gardens walks, and magnificent, sweeping vistas—you’ll do so with the awareness that there is still plenty left to see. Maybe one day you’ll come back for seconds. Probably not anytime soon, considering the price of a meal, but when you’re looking for a special experience, the Grand Hotel will remain in your memory—and someday you’ll return.

The Bridge is a constant presence in the distance as you sit on the upper deck of the jet ferry from Mackinaw City to the Island.

Yes, the Island. There is only one of those, too, at least here at the northern tip of the Lower Peninsula. Lakes Huron and Michigan are dotted with islands of various sizes, some of them quite large—Drummond Island, North and South Manitou, Boise Blanc—but Mackinac Island is an island apart from the rest. It may not be the largest, but it is by far the most colorful.

Tourist trap? Oh, it’s one of those all right. But it’s a wholesome tourist trap with lots to offer, and at the end of a Mackinac Island day, you can return to the mainland well-stocked with Murdick’s fudge and satisfied that you had a great time without shelling out a small fortune (though if you want to spend a wad of cash, you’ll find plenty of opportunities to do so).

The vast, gleaming-white facade of the Grand Hotel is your first sign that you’re in for a special experience as you approach the Island. But it’s when your ferry curves past the lighthouses for its final approach to the harbor, and the shoreline ensemble of lavish homes, hotels, shops, and boat docks looms larger and larger, that you begin to get an inkling of how much there really is to hold your interest.

Leaving the ferry, you make your way from the docks and through a spacious passageway, from which you emerge onto a sidewalk filled with foot traffic and lined with shops. Your ears take in the sounds of voices, and laughter, and the clip-clop of horses. Bikers wheel past you on the street. Motor vehicles aren’t allowed on the Island, and that’s just fine. You’ll find bicycles and horses available to rent, and horse-drawn shuttles are constantly patrolling the streets, ready to take you for a slow, relaxing ride up to the Hotel (did I mention that there is only one Hotel?) or north along the shoreline drive toward Arch Rock. The latter makes for a lovely carriage ride down a winding, picturesque street lined with huge, immaculately kept homes, all sitting at the bottom of a great hill beneath the watchful bulk of Fort Mackinac.

Right now, though, it’s time to walk the sidewalks and explore the numerous shops. Seems like every other store is a fudge shop. You knew, did you not, that Mackinac Island fudge is the best fudge in the world? If you’ve never experienced it, now is the time to visit Murdick’s, or Ryba’s, or any of the Island’s other fudge artisans, taste the samples, and pick up a bit of fudge to take home with you. A suitcase full will be sufficient.

Of course, you can’t live on fudge. By and by, you’re ready for something more substantial. The time has arrived—time for the ultimate noon-hour dining experience: the Grand Hotel’s incredible luncheon buffet. A ten-minute ride on a horse-drawn taxi takes you through the town and up the sloping, curvy road to the Hotel. Here, from the lavish dining experience that awaits you, to the Hotel’s stunning interior, to its breathtaking view across the Straits from its great front porch, to its extraordinary gardens, you’re about to get a taste of opulence unstinting and unabashed.

But that’s for another post. Stay tuned—lunch is being prepared.

I was lying in my bed in the Hamilton Inn on the Mackinac City waterfront when I saw the first glimmer of dawn crack over the rim of Lake Huron. A bout of fudge-induced insomnia (if you don’t know about Mackinac Island fudge, you clearly don’t live in Michigan!) had kept me awake all night. Now, like dully glowing iron in a forge, the first dim light of the new day was filtering in, revealing the black silhouettes of boat docks and shoreline.

My sister Diane, brother Terry, our mother, and I had arrived the day before with plans to catch the jet ferry over to Mackinac Island next morning, enjoy the luncheon buffet at the Grand Hotel, relax afterward and savor the extraordinary view from the hotel’s vast porch, and then head back to Grand Rapids. Such mini-vacations to the Bridge lie within the reach of most Michiganders, and this one was our way of continuing to celebrate Mom’s eighty-fourth birthday.

Overnighting at the Grand Hotel was well beyond our budgets, but lodging on the mainland at the Hamilton was affordable, and the rooms were elegant, clean, and comfortable. From the third-floor balcony, the view was beautiful, looking out across the waters toward Bois Blanc Island and the sweep of the Lower Peninsula shore arching off to the southeast.

Terry amused himself by throwing pieces of French fry off the balcony, prompting the resident gulls to swarm from the roof and fight over the scraps. The resulting scene was unnervingly Hitchcockian, with the big, shining birds wheeling and diving mid-air, hovering in front of us and staring intently, waiting to pounce en masse on the next bit of fry.

That had been the day before. Once we had settled in, we of course visited the fudge shops, which led to my predictably sleepless night. I was poised at the edge of finally drifting off when the first light began to peer in through the sliding glass door, promising a spectacular sunrise. When was the last time I had seen one? I lay there, watching the rusty glow begin to strengthen, not wanting to get up but knowing I would regret letting the opportunity pass. Finally I rolled back the covers, threw on my clothes, grabbed my camera, and stepped out onto the balcony.

Pale light glimmered on the water, revealing the dim colors of the ferries moored in the Star Line marina next door. At this early hour, I could hear the sound of activity on the boats. Other than that, silence reigned. This was the period between darkness and daylight, between the time when Mackinac City went to sleep and the time when it awoke–the magic hour of light that transforms first the sky and then the earth, igniting the clouds and filling the placid waters of Lake Huron with shimmering pigments.

I watched quietly as the reds brightened into deep gold and deep gold into creamy yellow. At last the first rays of the rising sun winked over the horizon. A new day had begun. I closed the curtain, stripped off my clothes, and crawled back under the covers. Then, as the furnace of the sunrise blazed away outside the sliding door, I slipped at last into sleep.

Well, we are going to be asking for your patience for a short time while we do a few improvements of our own on this site.

We think you will agree that the improvements will be worth the short time of inconvenience.

Thank you.

There are roadside produce stands every few miles. The stands range from large buildings filled with fresh fruits, vegetables and plants, to a table set up on a farm, selling just one product.

For us, no summertime trip along the shore is complete without a stop at one of these stands. Nothing beats the taste of fresh summertime produce, and as soon as we get into the car with our purchase, we have to give it a try. So, depending on the season, we are enjoying fresh, sweet cherries, juicy peaches or tart, crunchy apples as we travel home.

The next time you see one of these stands, stop and enjoy. Not only will it taste great, it is good for you and for the Michigan economy.

Lisa and I were strolling through the children’s garden at Frederik Meijer Gardens & Sculpture Park last week when I came upon a group of wine-red blossoms striking an attitude, and not a very complimentary one. I don’t know what I did to offend them, but that’s how it is sometimes with me and the outdoors. Swans moon me. Flowers give me…well, you can see for yourself what the flowers were giving me.

I tell myself, “They’re only plants,” but it’s hard not to take such a thing personally. What’s a guy gonna do, though? Chew out a garden display for rude behavior? People look strangely at a grown man who takes issue with a bunch of flowers. Next time I’ll probably just keep my mouth shut and not cause a scene.

Ill manners aside, the red flowers above are striking examples of anthropomorphic forms in nature, and of patterns in the world around us. Patterns are everywhere on every scale, from tiny duckweed dotting a square inch of pond surface, to saw-toothed mountains receding into the distance. Besides cheering up my bruised ego with their brighter disposition, the merry little vine shown in this second photo, full of colorful blossoms, furnishes a great example of the symmetry and repetition you can find in creation, as well as the diversity that occurs in the midst of sameness. The twin racemes of red, yellow, and white flowers remind me of multicolored zippers, each one resembling the next, yet no two exactly the same, and all of them deftly arranged in a larger pattern that is a miniature sculpture in its own right.

Develop an eye for the patterns around you, and you begin to see artistry everywhere you look. An everyday planter full of Coleus sitting outside a storefront becomes a masterpiece of color and design. How easily we take such a thing for granted, pass it by with rarely a second glance, if even a first. But stop and look. No sculptor ever fashioned, nor painter ever painted, a more gracefully shaped or pleasingly hued arrangement of form and color, light and shade, repetition and contrast, than this humble basket of plants.

Not that we humans don’t try. And we do very well—though, if we’re savvy, we’ll recognize that we’re simply emulating what already exists in the world that surrounds us. You could say that we’re even participating in nature, recognizing and celebrating its beauty in a multitude of ways through the works of our hands, and incorporating its elements. The basket of Coleus is there because someone took the time to plant it, and that particular strain of Coleus exists because some horticulturist took the time to develop its particular colors and distinctive shape of leaf.

Turn your attention to this mat in the entryway to a Saugatuck art shop. Someone had a great idea for taking common stones and turning them into a simple but attractive bit of craftsmanship that combines art and functionality. A stone doormat. You can look at it, enjoy it, and then wipe your feet on it. When it gets dirty, you can hose it off without feeling like you’re painting a mustache on the Mona Lisa. The medium, rocks, can handle rough treatment. Yet they’re gracefully arranged in a way that imbues them with beauty.

Patterns. They’re all around us, knitting our world together in ways we may barely be aware of. But the more aware we become, the more we’ll appreciate the richness of life and the marvel of the Michigan outdoors.

The interior has a fun, coffee shop atmosphere. Nothing stuffy or pretentious here, just a comfortable place to meet friends and enjoy each other’s company.  Many of the customers seemed to be regulars and greeted each other by name.

The menu is written on a large chalk board along one wall and you go to the counter to place your order. We arrived early, about 8:00 on a Saturday morning, and there were several people already enjoying their coffee and breakfast. We did not have to wait in line long, just enough time to peruse the menu and make our selection. We decided we came just at the right time, because a short time later there was a much longer line. But, the line moved quickly and the wait for the food was very short.

My wife had the French Toast made with whole wheat bread for $5.45, and I had the “#1”,scrambled eggs, bacon, toast and potatoes for $5.65. I chose the spicy potatoes and was very glad I did. Very tasty!  We both enjoyed our breakfasts and the coffee was exceptionally good.

Rather than labeling the restrooms the typical “Men” and “Women”, the restrooms were labeled “Bob” and “Mary”, more than likely after the owners, Bob and Mary Keedy. I like that. It shows they know how to have fun and they don’t take themselves too seriously.

So, no matter what you are looking for, breakfast, lunch or dinner, or just a good cup of coffee, the Roast and Toast is well worth a stop.