Upper Peninsula with the Parents

Nothing beats the joy of kids who've just realized they get to skip a whole week of school. At the gate back home, the kids were the most excited of all of us. After a long day of work and travel, their energy carried the rest of us onto the plane.

Michigan greeted us the moment we stepped out of the airport. The air was crisp and cool under an overcast sky, the kind that wakes you up even when your whole body is begging to sit down. We were tired, hungry and ready to be done with the day, so the plan was simple: get the car, get food, find the beds.

The car is where things got interesting. We had reserved a minivan and got a Chrysler Pacifica, newer and in good condition. The catch was that in this version the middle seats were fixed in place. That gave the middle row more legroom than anyone needed and turned the third row into a snug little cave for two kids. The tallest of the kids folded himself back there with all the enthusiasm of someone asked to sit inside a lunchbox. Two kids in a cramped third row was not a happy scene.

Luckily, the drive was short. We grabbed water at a gas station and McDonald's for dinner, then rolled into the Hampton Inn & Suites Detroit/Airport-Romulus, where everyone could finally stretch out to full length.

Tomorrow, that tight third row meets a long drive north.

That tight third row barely had time to settle before we broke the plan. The Henry Ford was never on our sheet, but somewhere outside Detroit we decided to stop, explore and take pictures. An hour, maybe an hour and a half, slipped by inside a museum that also holds the very bus where Rosa Parks kept her seat. The assembly line tour is closed on weekends, and the quiet factory floor didn't tempt us. Greenfield Village's 2.5-to-3-hour walk was a no for this crew.

Minutes later the kids spotted a Tim Hortons and erupted. We'd just had a snack, but hot chocolate and donuts won the vote anyway.

Bronner's turned out to be enormous, with doors in every direction, a building about five and a half football fields long. We gave it over an hour and had to drag ourselves out. The quirkiest find was one of the kids' prize: a Christmas ornament shaped like a bag of ripple chips.

Frankenmuth fed us twice over: alligator po'boys and crepes for lunch, then a march back to N'Orlins for beignets. We spent about three hours wandering the Cass River waterfront, crossing the covered Holz-Brücke (oxen pulled it into place in 1980, at roughly three inches a minute), shopping and snapping pictures.

We rolled into Mackinaw City near 11 pm, hungry, and the only open dinner was a Taco Bell across the Mackinac Bridge. So we paid the toll, crossed under the magnificent glowing towers, ate, and paid it again to come back.

The bridge glowed behind us, and the island waited.

The best small splurge of the trip was expedited ferry tickets, just a few dollars more per person. While the regular line snaked along the dock, we breezed past it and boarded first, then did it again on the way back. Our ferry took the scenic route, swinging right under the Mackinac Bridge. After seeing it glow at 11 pm the night before, gliding beneath all that steel felt like a proper reunion. The wind was gusting around 21 mph under a gray sky, yet the water stayed surprisingly calm.

There are no cars to dodge on the island. They've been banned since the 1890s, when carriage drivers asked the village to keep out those "dangerous horseless carriages." So we did it the island way. A horse-drawn carriage tour let Mom and Dad see everything without a long walk. Our horses were seasoned veterans, though, and needed several breathers along the route. That just gave our driver more time to serve up history wrapped in jokes.

Back downtown we wandered the waterfront and Main Street and had lunch at the Murray Hotel. We grabbed a snack from Doud's Market and left with fudge from Joann's, a magnet for the fridge, and a few finds from Northwind Gifts.

A McDonald's snack fueled the drive to the Soo Locks, where a freighter crept through the 21-foot step between Lake Superior and Lake Huron. The kids were thrilled for about fifteen minutes. The freighter was in no hurry at all. After an hour, we waved goodbye and moved on.

Buffalo Wild Wings for dinner, then one more hour to our hotel in Newberry.

Tomorrow: the falls, if the rain lets us.

The rain let us have the falls after all, but only on its own schedule. We pulled into the Upper Falls under a drizzle, and then, as if someone had flipped a switch, it stopped. We took in the view from the overlook first: a wide, roaring curtain of water about 200 feet across. Mom and Dad strolled a bit and then retreated to the car, while the four of us walked all the way down to the falls. The path was flat and sturdy, with no steps and a gentle grade, so it was an easy win.

Up close, the kids had the exact same reaction: it looks like root beer. They weren't wrong. That amber color comes from tannins seeping out of the cedar and hemlock swamps upstream, though "root beer river" is the version that stuck.

We celebrated with pulled pork sandwiches and ice cream, and the moment we finished, the rain came back. Somewhere on the walk back, Dad's old shoes finally gave up. The only rescue on the road was a Family Dollar, which sold him a pair meant to last just through the trip.

At the Lower Falls we sat and waited, but the rain didn't budge, so we pointed the car toward Miners Castle. We got there well before sunset, with time for the overlook and a walk up close. The castle once had two turrets until one tumbled into Lake Superior in 2006. Miners Beach next door was spectacular.

Back in Munising, our Holiday Inn sat right on the lake and looked beautiful. We all wanted whitefish, so we tried The Dogpatch. After twenty minutes of waiting, we learned they were out of it. We grabbed Subway and carried it back to the hotel.

Tomorrow: Pictured Rocks from the water, if Superior lets us.

Superior let us, barely. Rain pushed our 10 am Spray Falls cruise to 11, so we lingered at the hotel posing with the lake behind us, then lined up around 10:30 with hardly a crowd. The boat has three decks: glassed-in below, half-open in the middle, and a wide-open top deck with the best views and the worst wind. Mom and Dad wisely settled inside on the second deck. The four of us climbed to the top, and the kids lasted until the cold won, then retreated downstairs to their grandparents. We stayed, hoods up and layers stacked, among fellow passengers in hoodies and ear muffs. The lake runs 10 to 15 degrees colder than shore, and it was choppy enough that one of us with a touchy stomach felt every swell, so plan accordingly. The cliffs earned it, striped by iron-rich groundwater, with Spray Falls dropping about 70 feet straight into the lake. Every formation was spectacular, but Lover's Leap took the crown.

Then came US-2, a colorful ribbon along Lake Michigan, with Bollywood music keeping us company. The whitefish quest finally ended at Tap 21 in Manistique. Around 4 pm we detoured to Kitch-iti-Kipi, never on the sheet, for a quick look at the clear spring and a browse through the gift shop. We stopped for photos at the Cut River Bridge, then reached St. Ignace's bridge view park just before sunset, with the Mackinac Bridge stretched out behind us. We crossed, checked in, and refused to cross back, so we settled for Fox's Pizza: not the best, but OK given the circumstances.

Tomorrow, we point south along Lake Michigan and take it slow.

We left Mackinaw City under a light drizzle, and true to our word, we took it slow. Petoskey got a lazy loop through town, then we rolled on to Charlevoix and did the same before settling in for lunch at The Villager Pub.

Afterward, we wandered the main street, window shopping our way to Kilwins. The kids and Dad got ice cream and strolled with their cones, looking entirely pleased with themselves. Somewhere near Charlevoix came the silliest moment of the whole week: Mom took a gentle, perfectly harmless roll right off a rock. Nobody was hurt, and nobody has let her forget it.

The drive south along Lake Michigan was gorgeous, and we treated every scenic pullout like an invitation. We stopped often, stretched our legs and filled our phones with pictures. Then came another detour that was never on the sheet: Sleeping Bear Dunes. We climbed the dunes first, then eased along Pierce Stocking Drive, stopping at every overlook. By luck rather than planning, we reached the Lake Michigan overlook right around sunset. After a week of chasing light from bridge parks and ferry decks, this was the one. It was an experience all its own.

In Traverse City, after a week of fast food, India Garden felt like a warm hug. The ambiance, the service and the food were all great, and everyone happily cleaned their plates before we turned in at the Holiday Inn Express in Acme.

Tomorrow, one more Tim Hortons, and the road home.

The rain started steady and stayed that way, more than half an inch of it drumming on the roof as we pointed the car south out of Traverse City. Of course there was one more Tim Hortons. We picked up coffee and donuts for the road, the same way the drive had begun, warm cups in hand while the wipers kept time.

We'd have loved one more look at Frankenmuth, but it sat out of the way, so we tried something new instead: the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor, an unplanned stop like so many of our best ones. This one didn't cooperate. It was a working day, construction had claimed its share of the curb, and parking simply wasn't happening. So the walk we'd pictured became a slow loop around campus, with Mom and Dad taking it in from their seats. Honestly, that's how they'd enjoyed plenty of this trip anyway.

Lunch was a Chipotle at the mall, followed by some unhurried wandering indoors while the rain carried on outside. Then it was straight to the airport. The rental car went back, snacks were bought, and dinner was McDonald's, a fitting nod to the road food that started it all.

When we tried to sum up the week, four words kept coming back: beautiful, scenic, colorful, picturesque.

We already have a list for next time: Holland, an extra night in Frankenmuth, and the Detroit waterfront instead of a campus drive-by.

Home at last, with the colors still behind our eyes.