Wow, what an amazing trip.
No one really likes listening to people droning on about their trips, so I’ll try to be palatable.
1. Learn to pivot.
I had my route and plan inked. Got an email from John Williams, Traverse City, MI. He basically said, “You have to come here and ride the best trails in the state. Put this on the itinerary. You can camp at my place right on the water. When can you get here?”
We’ve never met, by the way. But this is how friendly Michiganders are. I declined. Told him I was going via another trail. Traverse City wasn’t on my route. The offer stands, he said.
Why did I feel like I would be missing out?
2. Run off with strangers from the Internet.
My son wanted to see Traverse City. John seemed like a vivacious, nice man. He has a purple Platypus. Green flags.
Ok, I told him. I’m heading your way for a ride on our first day.
Tracy, another stranger from the internet, got word. “Hey, wait, I live 15 miles from Traverse City,” she said. “Are you seeing John,” she wanted to know.
YOU KNOW HIM, I said.
So E, Tracy, John and I gathered our Rivs, made introductions and set off on a RivRide on the famous TART trail. We pedaled with John to a winery, where he treated us to lunch and a “frosé” while we dined and sipped amongst the vineyards.
3. Chuck your route, the locals know best.
Show me your route, said John. Well, he said, you COULD go that way, but you’d have a much more scenic experience if you went THIS WAY. We wrote down his instructions. He had all the roads committed to memory. Eat here. Visit there. Make sure you see this, he said.
We did. We pedaled along indescribable beauty. We stopped, soaked it in, drank it up, continued on. I was drunk on it. (It wasn’t the frosé!) Locals wanted to know where we were going. They pointed out things that might interest us along the way. We found an oasis in the Tunnel of Trees - the most rustic, charming coffee shop; when we pulled over there was a pile of 20 bikes belonging to a hoarde of darling college boys on a RA team building trip. They were chatty. One had some cramping so I fixed him up with some electrolytes. “Bikers are way nicer than joggers,,” he observed. We were faster than them, even though we were fully loaded and they were fully supported. They cheered for us at every encounter, and we did for them, too (we were all going to Mackinaw City).
Our bikes were a blessing, never giving us any trouble, keeping us in perfect comfort the entire time. Our gear was also great, though E’s tent did flood in a nasty thunderstorm that blew over our campsite. He had to wait until the rain ceased enough for him to get out of the tent and begin bailing. He was ankle-deep in water.
We talked a little but mostly rode in companionable silence, each listening to a audiobook. E loved being able to check out with a book; he said biking takes no effort when you have a good book. He was sad when we parked the bikes.
Nobody locks a darn thing at the top of the Mitten (that means Michigan’s lower peninsula, if you don’t know). Not vehicles or houses and not bikes. We walked away from our bikes all the time and nothing ever went missing. We locked if we could, but it was hardly necessary. One time we pulled off the highway, ditched the bikes on the side of the road and went swimming at Sturgeon Beach. The bikes were just as we left them, all our gear intact. E even left his bike gloves at the restroom on Mackinac Island. When we came back an hour later, they were just where he left them. I lost my Air Pods and had to backtrack 15 miles (by car, as this was at the end of the trip) to where Find My located them. A nice Michigander in the campground was holding them for me.
We made it to the ferry in Mackinaw City and sailed to Mackinac Island. We rode the only car-free US highway in the nation. We did some exploring and then sailed back to the city and rode 60 miles back to my truck for the drive home.
I spent the morning today washing my tent, my clothes and my bike. I got it lubed and cleaned up and the leather all polished. The bikes were caught in rain more than once, so they needed it. Everything is unpacked and now all I can think about is when can we do this again?
If you can’t get through this wall of text, below is the Reel I made of the trip for Instagram.
As always, thanks so much for your suggestions and help and goodwill!
Leah
I know everything will work out. I'm sure you have the seatcover on the saddles, right?