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My friend Ying Pu needed a break from her intense newspaper
production as much as I needed her companionship for a few days of
sightseeing by car. We are an odd pair, one of Chinese heritage, 30
years younger, the other of German background, a former ESL teacher.
Ying calls me Mama and treats me with great respect according to
Chinese tradition. She is a “techie,” always relying on her I-phone
for making reservations and finding her way around, while I need my
maps and brochures.
We left Solon on Sunday by midday in drenching rain and headed
toward Toledo for our first stop at the National Museum of the Great
Lakes. We had plenty of time to tour an adjacent ship, the historic
Col. James Schoonmaker, anchored next to the museum in the Maumee
River. It was a perfect beginning in bright sunshine to get a feel
for hauling iron ore in a ship with a cavernous carrying capacity
during a time, when natural resources were needed everywhere. We saw
the tiny rooms, where sailors slept and even the captain’s luxurious
quarters with period furniture and a cozy fireplace on the top deck
next to the steering wheel. The museum showed magnificent displays
of artifacts, maps, photos and a film, where many ships went down to
their grave because of the turbulent weather created by icy arctic
air colliding with warm humidity from the Gulf of Mexico. All five
Great Lakes are a huge graveyard, dotted with sunken ships and lives
lost at sea.
Detroit was our next destination, just a half hour’s drive north-
east, along Rte. 75, where we stopped for dinner at the Red Dragon
Chinese Buffet, and to drop off a bundle of Ying’s newspapers, the
Chinese Erie Journal. Refreshed by a good night’s sleep at a Red
Roof Inn, we were ready to visit the enormous Henry Ford Museum and
the adjacent Greenfield Village, definitely demanding a day’s worth
of energy. The Henry Ford Museum is amazing in its scope of
historical displays from the 1700's to the present, old cars driven
by Presidents, racing cars from the Indy 500, the Wright
Brother's first experiments with a flying machine out of their
bicycle shop in Dayton, Ohio, an enormous locomotive, never built
again because of its size and weight, etc., etc. The adjacent
Greenfield Village afforded us a train ride around the grounds, a
working farm and a lived in colonial home. We decided to have an
authentic 18th century meal at the Eagle Tavern, where we met a 90
year old volunteer, who exuberated joy and purpose in her life. How
wonderful! ontinuing our trek north, we arrived at the Christmas
village of Frankenmuth, settled by German immigrants in the 1800's
who created an atmosphere of joy and wonder, immersed in Bavarian
architecture and the festivities of the holiday season. Zehnder's
restaurant is famous for its authentic German Chicken dinners and
Bronner's for a magical world of Christmas displays, ornaments,
hummel figurines and every conceivable tradition around the world.
The emphasis is on the birth of Christ with many creche displays,
angels and heavenly music piped in. A special chapel was built to
honor the inspiration of the hymn "Silent Night" or "Stille Nacht"
by a Bavarian pastor and his organist, when the organ broke down and
they needed a song, accompanied by guitar, for the evening service
on December 24.
Our last stop was at the Sleeping Bear National Seashore, a
good drive north near Traverse City, the real reason, why I wanted
to go to Michigan. We lucked out once more to find the best
overnight accommodations possible, a Bed & Breakfast Inn, actually a
modernized century home, whose previous owners happened to be
visiting from Florida. This place even had an indoor spa. The
evening hours beckoned us to take a scenic drive, where we
encountered a dune, specifically meant for climbing. And climb we
did, huffing and puffing, out of breath, because it was steeper than
it seemed. But the view from the top was worth the effort. We felt
like kids in our bare feet, laughing our heads off.
The last day came all too soon. We needed to head home, but we had
not set foot on a beach yet. It was pouring rain, cold and
miserable; nevertheless, we turned to the Glen Arbor Beach, where we
found a deserted village, where laborers had found work, loading and
unloading forest wood unto Lake Michigan ships, but not clear
cutting, so that the forest could regenerate in due time. How
thoughtful the people were to preserve a piece of history and not
devastate nature. By noon time, the sun came out just long enough
for us to take a two hour hike along the Empire Bluff near the
Visitor Center. The view of Lake Michigan from high above with dunes
shimmering in the distance and the water near the shoreline as clear
as glass was a satisfying reward for our road trip through Michigan.
The Upper Peninsula across Mackinaw Bridge and a look at Lake
Superior will have to wait until a next time.
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