Mackinaw City, Mi. To Charlevoix, Mi.: Smooth Sailing - Headlong Into The Petri Dish - CycleBlaze

September 14, 2020

Mackinaw City, Mi. To Charlevoix, Mi.: Smooth Sailing

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This was a Peak Day. Everything about it was fantastic, even one wrinkle that could have been a major bummer turned into a success. The temps were just right, the wind was gently wafting from the north while we rode south, and the route was gorgeous (once we revisited C-48’s horribly malformed little brother). It was a “no chain” kind of day.

We felt rather proud that we showed some discipline in getting a proper start to the day. As we wheeled away from the motel we joked about our disappointment that there was no ticker tape parade to escort us out of town. Then we agreed that any parade send-off would have been mustered around 7:30 AM when any respectable bike tourists would have gotten their butts on the road to start the day. Apparently, being ready to go by 9:30 AM is NOT the definition of “fortitude.” Who knew? Well, late to start and late to bed has always worked for us. No looking back now.

We did have to repeat a visit to the grotesquerie of roads that are C-48’s little brother. Heading south was marginally less awful than yesterday’s opposite direction but a few miles into the ride were slaloming between huge potholes, small divots, and raised mounds of ancient asphalt patching. Phew.

C-48’s Little Brother Screeches His Farewells
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A treat was stopping in Cross Village, 17 miles from Mack City. It’s a tiny place, truly a village, and though a bit of Big Money has found it and built some lovely homes overlooking the lake, no one seems to have erected gigantic 3-story vacation homes that blot out the sun. It has a simple, “untouched” feel to it. I wonder if that's the result of pure luck or an actual plan? A centerpiece of the place is the “Legs Inn,” a restaurant built in the 1920’s by a Polish immigrant with an artistic nature and much creativity. Read the historical plaque in the posted picture for all the info. I especially love that one side of the plaque is English with the other side Polish

Story Of The Legs Inn, Cross Village
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Legs Inn, In All Its Glory
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Legs Inn, a’ la Polska
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As it happened, when we entered Cross Village we exchanged waves and greetings with three touring cyclists heading the same direction as we were. They were shoving off just as we pulled in. We caught up to them a 1/2 hour later. We also saw another tourist approaching us in that time frame too. So many tourists all of a sudden! What would be a proper name for a group of Touring Cyclists? Like a rafter of turkeys, a group of Touring Cyclists needs a special term. A “Pungent” would work. Perhaps an “Eccentric” of cyclists wouldn’t be wrong either. Anyone out there? Have a go at this! It needs some workshopping.

The road from Cross Village to Harbor Springs is renowned, as it should be. It is called the “Tunnel of Trees” road, and its a thing of beauty. Twenty miles of curved, sinuous, well paved up & down cycling Valhalla. The road is intentionally skinny, about one and a 1/2 lanes wide, but every driver was very safe and courteous, and I don’t thing large trucks are allowed. Frankly a large vehicle would have a tedious drive in store for itself. We saw quite a few motorcyclists cruising this road too. The thing is simply made for two wheels.

The Aptly Named Tunnel Of Trees
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And, motorcyclists .... I am ready to declare the motorcycle crowd to be A-OK people. I’d not quite strong opinions on this, other than to lump motorized bikers into the general “internal combustion” category of which not quite to trust. But I tell you, every motorcycle that passed us, either in a group or individual gave us plenty of room, slowed WAY down when passing, and often gave a wave. They all seem pretty chill, and just want to get outside and cruise around. I’m on board with that crowd for sure.

Entering Petoskey
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We kept on trucking and when we hit Petoskey (after Ka-Thunking back around the bay) on the return trip decided to find a coffee shop and hit the jackpot. When we asked Siri to “show us nearby coffee shops” she said “The Roast & Toast” and let me tell you, Siri knows a proper coffee shop when she sees one. They roast their beans on site and great Googley Moogley the coffee cake muffin with creme-center filling was so good I’m sure it must be illegal. It was hard to leave. Probably was good they were closing at 3 PM and we arrived at 2:30. I want to bring this coffee shop home with me.

Our New Love, The Roast & Toast
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Today was not without tribulations though. The plan was to ride the Little Traverse Wheelway from Petoskey to Charlevoix. Easy-Peasey, no cars, no way to take a wrong turn, no brainer and what a great way to finish this long day in the saddle. Imagine our surprise in finding a giant chain link fence erected across the trail, and much like the movie “Family Vacation” when John Candy announces to the Griswolds “Sorry Folks, Wally World’s closed!”, we were being kicked off the bike path. After our initial shock we pondered. Seeing that you could bushwhack a bit and limbo around the fence to get to the other side, we both said “Let’s do it! How bad can the damage be?” Before we blundered into the unknown though, we had the good sense to pull out the phone and do a little cautionary Googling. Oh. My. It turns out the damage WAS pretty bad! Basically the trail fell into the lake now, so ... not an option. After some more conferring and further Googling we decided we’d have to ride on Hwy. 31, which although a state bike route with a wide shoulder, was a lot like riding on the Autobahn. But, you do what you gotta do. A couple miles down the road, to our delight, we bumped into a couple bikers who told us you could re-enter the trail just a bit further on and later sashay around the 2nd closure point. Woo-Hoo! No Chain again baby!! It was a snap and into Charlevoix we rolled.

The Moment We Decided to Check The Internet Before Blindly Plunging Onto the Trail, Around the Chain Link Fence, Warnings Be Damned!
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Resigned To Riding 15 Miles On M-31 To Reach Charlevoix
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This Warning We Could & Did Ignore
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Homestretch into Charlevoix
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The place we are staying is an interesting set up. A Condo/Hotel. I think people actually own each of the rooms/condos in the facility and when they aren’t using them have the operation managers rent them to travelers. I’m guessing the owners and the management group split the income somehow. It was a pretty nice place with a small kitchen and a killer view of an inland lake just outside the room.

We were ravenous by the time we had a chance to search for food. We stumbled upon a nifty little cafe that advertised their specialty as being “meat pies.” We figured they were much like Shepherd's Pie, or good old Chicken Pot Pies, which are favorites of ours. When we asked if the full menu was available, sadly, we learned that this late in the day they were pretty well picked over. But the counter girl said they had several pre-packaged and frozen pies for take home. That was a winner, and they also had some excellent packaged salads for take out as well. Marg grabbed one of each, and I, being crazed for calories did the same, with another bonus meat pie. There were no prices marked on them, but how much could they be? As they say, if you have to ask, you can't afford it.

When the girl rang them up she chirped, “That’ll be $53.75 please!” Now look, I’m not a cheapskate, and I didn’t just arrive in the big city fresh off the farm, but I want some acknowledgement for not having blurted out, “WHAT?!?? SERIOUSLY???” So, see, Charlevoix is a lake town, and a tourist town, and apparently organic, artisanal, hand crafted and artfully curated food doesn’t come cheap. I quietly gulped, waited a beat, and said, “Sure!” and smiled my most winning smile. We took them home and ate every last bit of it, so no complaints I suppose.

Our View Of The Boat Bridge, Just Off Our Balcony
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Margaret, Looking Pleased About The View From The Balcony
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A long day in the saddle, but one of the best of the trip.

Today's ride: 73 miles (117 km)
Total: 324 miles (521 km)

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Gregory GarceauDare I ask, were those "meat pies" pasties? Regardless of the cost of the various salads, pasties are one of the best foods on earth and are worth whatever price they ask.

"What would be the proper name for a group of bike tourists?" Since you asked, I'll go with "Freaks Nest." Yes, a freak's nest of cyclists.
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2 years ago
Mike JamisonTo Gregory GarceauFirst, let me give a full throated "second" to your motion declaring pasties the Finest Food of All Time, bar none. You are truly a connoisseur of Iron Range cooking Greg. We keep a supply in our freezer at all times. Sadly, what we ate in Charlevoix - though tasty - cannot qualify as pasties. More of a pot pie.

And Good Lord I love the Freaks Nest suggestion. Unfortunately I cannot figure out how to drop images into comments/responses so I'll just say I wanted to add the cover image of a Fabulous Furry Freak Brothers comic book here to show my unbridled support for your idea. It even had Fat Freddy's cat. Freak's Nest ... Gold!
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2 years ago