I’m planning on kayaking the few miles over to Mackinac Island from St. Ignace tomorrow or Saturday. I’ll go if the weather isn’t too harsh.
There’s an old worker’s reunion over there this weekend. It’ll be nice to see some old pals, I hope. I don’t know who’ll be there, but probably some good ol’ folks.
That island meant a lot to me as a young person.
I stopped there during my first big monthlong bike tour with my bro and a friend when we were 17. We met the Superintendent of the Parks there, David Armour and his wife, Grace. These were the parents of schoolfriends and we were welcomed into their home. He edited a favorite book of mine, “Attack on Michilimackinaw,” a book that popularized the region and deserves a movie if any does, based on the 1700’s era journal of Alexander Henry, a 21-year-old who survived the massacre at the fort…and a dozen other attempts on his life as he lived with an adoptive Indian family.
I spent my first summer away from home up there, as a dishwasher for the Iroquois Hotel and guard for the Grand Hotel. The bunch of us had a great time. I learned about bike culture and bike racing up there for the first time.
Young women were also liberating themselves by way of biking and running then, too. What a fine time it was.
For the next few years I’d often hitch-hike up there for fun. I went up for a couple New Year’s holidays as well, skiing across the ice once. I learned about ski racing then from Mark Chambers.
A couple years after that I hooked up with a dozen Islanders to take over Breckenridge, Colorado, for a couple ski seasons of joy. We rented one of the last mining cabins to live in on the edge of town. My “room” was at the end of a hallway. I slept on a “mattress” of the clothes I wasn’t wearing. Sigh. …200 days of skiing that year.
So the Island means a lot to me.
