After the marshlands of Bay City, I was ready to get back to the breezes and blue water of Lake Huron proper, so I moved up the East coast of the mitten to Tawas Point State Park. This was another tightly packed park with scads of families, including quite a lot of tent campers. I experienced no problem with bugs, but swarms of children on bikes buzzed about from mid morning to sundown. (Here I gained an appreciation for how LOUD plastic training wheels are compared to regular bicycle tires.)
Tawas Point State Park
The park offers sandy beaches, lighthouse tours and a network of fine nature trails that wind along a barrier peninsula that reaches out into Lake Huron. This sandy hook is shaped like a miniature Cape Cod. It was formed over the last hundred years or so as the land extended slowly out more than a mile from the original coastline.
The newly minted land is a mecca for flora & fauna, so I walked 3-4 miles of nature trails under cloudy skies. Such an activity was of little interest to the buzzing clouds of proto-humans, so I enjoyed a peaceful afternoon with just the flowers and critters exploring the dunes and shoreline.
I took the short ride into the nearby town of East Tawas to mail postcards, and while checking out the place I discovered the East Tawas State Harbor. Here was a marina to walk and some interesting boats and shorebirds to look at:
The humanity was getting a bit thick at Tawas, so I headed north into the unknown upper reaches of the mitten. I had some leads on camping spots, but no reservations.
City of Alpena on Thunder Bay
As usually happens when you keep an open mind and have plenty of time, everything worked out fine. I pulled in to the nearly-empty Alpena County Fairgrounds, where the caretaker set me up with a nice grassy site with power for cheap. The site layout was closely spaced in an open area, but with only 3-4 campers and 37 spaces there was privacy by distance even though it fronted on a fairly busy city street. Not very park-like, but perfect for my requirements for the weekend.
As I pulled in I noticed my nearest neighbors had a pair of folding bikes set out. This was something I had been considering buying, so I went over and asked about them. Turned out they didn’t recommend their particular bikes, but they were nice full-time folks. They stayed in Florida during the winter and spent the rest of the year travelling the art show circuit selling his ink-on-metal creations. They were in Alpena for a show that weekend down on Thunder Bay, so I promised to come around and check them out.
The next day I visited the Maritime History Center just a few blocks away. You can book a seat for glass bottom boat shipwreck tours there too. I had considered doing that, but as it was a Saturday with lots of tourists in town for the festival the tickets were sold out. No problem; after enjoying the museum I just cruised over to the city park where the art show was being held. I visited my new friends and browsed a few dozen of the many more tents. While I didn’t find anything I just had to have, I did locate a ceramic snail for my sister’s collection and a funny wiener vendor.
I had planned to spend a quiet Sunday chilling at the campsite, but I learned there was supposed to be a Rendezvous at a spot up the road called Forty Mile Point. My buddy Jay Freeman was always a fan of these kind of mountain man reenactments, so I figured what the heck. Oh, and of course there was another lighthouse there, it being Michigan and all.
Forty Mile Point
Forty Mile Point is located 40 miles north of Alpena and 40 miles south of Mackinaw Point. Unlike most lighthouses, it wasn’t built to advise ships of a hazard, rather it was simply constructed to eliminate the dark coast in the eighty mile stretch between two other lights. In the late 1800s, mariners navigated by dead reckoning, and it was advisable for a ship to have a lighthouse in sight at all times to keep track of her position.
As a later construction, this lighthouse incorporated enhancements I’d not seen before, such as duplex living quarters to accommodate two keepers and a square tower that was easier (and therefore less expensive) to construct and maintain. It even had skylights so the keepers could check on the light without leaving their cozy living quarters. Smart!
The Rendezvous turned out to be underwhelming, but the lighthouse and salvaged pilot house of the freighter Calcite were worthy of a visit, as was the remains of the 1871 wooden steamer Joseph S Fay that sank just offshore during a gale in 1905.
Rogers City
On the way back to Alpena I investigated the town of Rogers City, home of the world’s largest limestone quarry. Limestone is needed for processing iron ore as well as making cement. (Alpena boasts the world’s largest cement plant). RC feels like a idling industrial town with a monster economic engine just waiting to be revved up again. Definitely a blue collar community, not a tourist town.
Next time: I finally make it to the Upper Peninsula!