Fudge heaven

Well, we made our every six or seven years trek to fudge heaven,
better known as Mackinac island (pronounced 'Mackinaw' for the non
cognescenti)...

I don't tend to go to tourist traps but the co-pilot is very fond of
them, so off we went... The night before I went out to the storage
side of the barn and rooted around until I found the Dahon bikes we
bought - three airplanes back - for going to Sun-N-Fun and then we
discovered that skinny, skinny, skinny tires and sand do not go
together well... The bikes have had little use and are as new, except
very dirty... Well, a bit of water hose, rags, and windex solved
that... When I blew up the tires I discovered they have dry rot and
all kinds of cracks, but they held air for two days so it worked
out... But I gotta tell ya I am disturbed that these tires have only
lasted 20+ years and are now failing...

Anyway, we rocketed north across the pine barrens of Michigan (well,
'rocketed' is a relative term in an Apache), jumped the Staits of
Mackinac -bridge is still there right where I left it -, and rolled
onto final for 26 at MCD... They have raised the landing fee to
$21... In annoyance I assembled the bikes and we rode off, going
right around the terminal building (which is getting a multi hundred
thousand dollar upgrade must be those $21 fees are adding up) as the
ramp boy stood waving and whistling at us for his twenty one bucks as
we departed, and wended our way down to Front street whilst inhaling
the exhaust fumes of numerous horses... I commented to my copilot
that this is how the cities smelled before Henry Ford did his thing...

For those raised in a cave and never watched that famous movie,
'Somewhere In Dimes' I think it was actually a penny the internal
combustion engine is banned on Mackinac Island - except police, fire,
ambulance... OTOH, I'm not sure the trade off in exhaust fumes is that
positive...

Anyway, I digress... From the wharf, or the airport, the Grand Hotel
will send a handsome horse cab, drawn by a matched pair of show
quality, high stepping horses, driven by a unformed livery man, to
haul your celebrity carcass up to the front porch of the Grand... If
you are not a celebrity and can't afford the fantasy, keep pedaling
like we did... Down on Front Street the fudgies were in full war cry,
gnoshing on fudge, beer, ice cream, barbecue, and all sorts of toxic
substances... Meanwhile, the copilot disappeared into the nearest
palace of tee shirts, post cards, and cheap gimmickry, with the glad
cry of, "If I don't surface in an hour haul me up by the rope tied to
my ankle".. Leaving me to lean against a lamp post and survey the
passing crowd... One thing I have noticed over the decades is that
the crowd is getting fatter and this mornings observations did not
change that trend...

About 11 Am the copilot was shopped out and we stopped for lunch at
The Seabisquit Cafe... Highly recommended by me - both thumbs up and
sticky with sauce... Good food - and John, the manager, is a fun guy
to chat with... And besides, a guy that likes to listen to Cannonball,
and Big Momma, and Parker, and Coltrane, and Young, while he cleans up
before they open has to be a good guy...

So, after going to Markquette park and lounging on the benches to let
our lunch digest we continued touring... We didn't bike the 8.5 miles
around the island because we know that 1/4 of the way around is
downhill and the other 3/4 is uphill and against the wind... Sitting
there again after our ride we got to chatting with a couple, he turned
out to be a Criminal Court Judge from Fort Wayne...

We (I actually) decided it was time to go... The copilot wanted to
ride the horse cab back to the airport but thinking of the $21 landing
fee that awaited I opted for us to grunt our way uphill to the top of
the island... Back at the terminal building I walked in and casually
asked the attendant how much I owed for landing there... As he turned
around to talk to me he revealed a paper posted on the bulletin board
with my tail numbers in big red letters... "Oh, you're the Apache
guy.", he said... "We were worried about you."... I'll bet he was
Anyway, he told me the airport had reopened about 90 seconds before I
walked back in... Seems the plane right behind me on landing was a
Mooney that had a gear collapse on landing and the airport had been
closed for 5 hours... They had to fly in a work crew with airbags and
jacks and dollys, landing them on the taxiway, to lift the plane and
haul it away... The thought of that bill gave me goose bumps -
lessee, holiday weekend, air freight, etc., etc.... hooo boy...

So, anyway, we are good for another seven years before I have to do it
again... It'll take me that long to save up enough money for bike
tires and the 'then' landing fee...

denny

So, anyway, we are good for another seven years before I have to do it
again... It'll take me that long to save up enough money for bike
tires and the 'then' landing fee...

Great post, Denny. Mary and I love Mackinac Island, and the Grand
Hotel, and the old Fort, and the great food and bars.

My kids love the horse-drawn atmosphere, but I agree -- horse poop is
a worse problem than global warming, and I thank God for Henry Ford
every time I leave the island.

The fudge shops, the t-shirts, the same, trashy souvenirs that you can
buy in Branson or the Dells -- ALL that crap should be pushed into the
bay, IMHO. The island has a quaint charm and atmosphere that simply
doesn't fit with those kinds of places -- but at LEAST they still
haven't allowed a single chain hotel or fast-food restaurant on the
island. To go an entire vacation without seeing a McDonalds or a
Holiday Inn Express is worth any expense.

Gotta get back up there soon. (Although, quite frankly, I'll take
Madeline Island or Washington Island over Mackinac, in terms of a
"getaway-from-it-all" vacation...)
--
Jay Honeck
Iowa City, IA
Pathfinder N56993
www.AlexisParkInn.com
"Your Aviation Destination"