Thanks to Amanda McGauley for sharing her beautiful pictures from her Independence Day trip to South Haven!

The weather was perfect, as one could not ask for more than not having a cloud in the sky. The piers at South Haven were beautiful and the sand on the beaches flawless. We were able to watch the boats come and go most of the day across the crisp clear blue water of Lake Michigan. Our goal was to watch the sunset off the coastline and well, we were able to succeed. It was this every thing that makes us proud to live in a wonderful state that is truly Pure Michigan.

Amanda McGauley is a home health care clinical supervisor who in her spare time, enjoys being outdoors and taking in all the the wonderful state of Michigan has to offer.

Thanks to Matt Eder, co-creator of MichiganDads.com, for sharing his experiences from his recent family trip to Oscoda.

The water was cool but the sand was warm. The birds happily chirped as the squirrels scampered around the lush trees and green grass looking for food. Sure, it rained a bit – seems like it does every year – but it was brief and could not dampen the spirits of our surroundings. My two-and-a-half-year-old son squealed with joy as Lake Huron nipped at his toes. Even six-month-old Anabelle seemed happier breathing in the fresh “up north” air.

For many Michiganians, the trek up north is steeped in tradition. Maybe it was summers at the family cottage on Houghton Lake or winter weekends snowmobiling in Munising. When talking about taking trips up north the final destination and activity was almost irrelevant – the only thing that mattered was the departure date.

I spent plenty of time up north as a younger lad, but over the last 10 years or so, my wife and I have made an annual canoe trip with her family to Oscoda. We would lazily canoe (float) down the Au Sable River for the better part of an afternoon drinking, munching and enjoying the views. Our getaway weekend often coincided with the longest, non-stop canoe-only race in North America, the Au Sable Canoe Marathon, which starts in Grayling and finishes in Oscoda. Now that we have young kids we’ve unfortunately had to forgo the canoe portion of the trip, but fun still abounds.

For the past two years we’ve rented cabins from Perfect Landing. The cabins are on Lake Huron just north of downtown Oscoda. They are clean, well maintained and full of the amenities that make you feel right at home (cable TV, washer/dryer, full kitchen, grills, fireplace, etc.). Plus, the price is reasonable so I see no reason why we won’t be back again next year.

With a grill, fire pit, Lake Huron and plenty of seating in the backyard, cooking for ourselves has become the favored option for meals. The kitchen is serviceable, so breakfasts, brunches or lunches are easy enough to prepare. And who doesn’t enjoy a bonfire with barbeque and s’mores at night? When we do venture out for a meal, it’s usually to Bavarian Bakery & Restaurant for breakfast or Au Sable Inn for the all-you-can-eat perch or cod dinner (I prefer the lake perch). Oscoda is not a foodie town, but both of these places offer quality food at reasonable prices. Add in a dose of kid-friendliness and decent service and you’ve had a good meal and an enjoyable experience. Plus, someone else washes the dishes!

If playing in the backyard and swimming in the lake isn’t your cup of tea, Oscoda has plenty of fun activities to keep you entertained. Canoeing and tubing down the Au Sable River rank at the top of my list and Oscoda Canoe Rental has always served us well. If floating down the river sounds like too much work, you can also tour the Au Sable River from the cozy confines of the Ausable River Queen. And of course, there are gems to be found exploring quaint downtown Oscoda in addition to up north staples like putt-putt golf (or real golf if you’re lucky enough) and various museums like the Oscoda Historical Museum or the Wurtsmith Yankee Air Force Museum.

The museums sound interesting but I can’t vouch for them because I haven’t been able to pry my son away from the sand and water. And to be honest, I haven’t wanted to. Being barefoot in the sand and splashing in the waves provides a release for me like nothing else can. Maybe it’s being outdoors and enjoying the company or, maybe it’s being on the same emotional and intellectual level as a two-year-old for a change. Maybe it’s a combination. Either way, it’s Pure Michigan and I love it.

Our trip home wouldn’t be complete without a stop at the Big Red Barn, a well-known Oscoda gift shop that sells every imaginable sort of nick-nack.  From there it’s US-23 South to I-75 South back to reality. During the car ride home my son said, “Daddy, maybe we go back to cabin up north soon?” He is already hooked on northern Michigan and he’s not even three yet. I am certain it won’t be long before our daughter is expressing the same feelings. The tradition continues.

What are some of your favorite up north destinations? Do you have any fun, unique up north traditions? Please share them with us in the comments section.          

Matt Eder is a lifelong Michigan resident who is passionate about his family and his home state.  He works on marketing and branding issues for a Michigan-based manufacturing company by day, spends evenings and weekends with his family and devotes the rest of his waking hours to making MichiganDads.com another home-grown success story.

Thank you to Jess Venlet for reminding us of how important it is sometimes to slow down and appreciate the beauty that surrounds us.   

Last summer I traveled to Northern Michigan’s Sleeping Bear Lakeshore for the first time ever. I was making the trip with my boyfriend, and my excitement dwindled as we drove. We took the scenic way. Gas was running low. We were behind schedule by an hour. My boyfriend was singing every song on the radio. And just as it felt like we would never get there, just as I almost threw myself from the car (from the singing!)—I caught a glimpse of my sulky reflection in the rearview mirror. 

Was I actually complaining that we took the scenic way? Did we even have a schedule? It’s not like the dunes were going to blow away. 

Our “schedule” consisted of arriving at the dune climb area of the lakeshore, and completing the walk to Lake Michigan. Though we were “late” we did get there eventually. We paid ten dollars for a park pass, parked, and stepped out of the car a bit surprised. Looming in front of us was the first climb. The people on top looked small. It’s over a mile to reach the water. But no big deal, right? We are young. We are athletic. Let’s do this! 

Dune after dune…after dune…after dune I eagerly anticipated Lake Michigan. Each time we climbed up I expected to see the lake just yards away. But at the top of each dune, the only thing in close distance was sand. Way up in the distance, Lake Michigan glistened with the familiar dark blue I had seen many times before at Pere Marquette Beach in Muskegon. 

The view from the top

I tried my best not to complain, but my excitement was again dwindling. And is he humming? Is he going to sing more? Why am I still slugging through sand to reach such a familiar lake? But each time I looked back, I decided that I had come too far to quit. The sun was shining; the air was warm and breezy. It is a beautiful day. 

Forty-five minutes of walking later, my jaw dropped. Chilling waves of intense calm washed over me, erupting my skin into tingles. I do not consider myself religious, but that first glimpse of the waters surrounding the Manitou islands was unbelievably spiritual. 

Turquoise water. Glimmering rocks, not wet with water, but shining pinkish from a natural glitter deep within them. For a moment I could imagine nature untouched by human development. 

The lighthouse on South Manitou Island

Sitting, dune grass swaying behind him, my boyfriend leaned back to relax. I waded into the turquoise, letting it lap up at my knees and shorts. Gazing towards South Manitou Island—a thin, sleepy haze blanketing it—the island seemed the epitome of patience. 

On the walk back, I didn’t think about the schedule. Dune after dune after dune spoke to me as we climbed. This time I listened. They said, “slow down,” as my feet slipped backward in warm sand. They firmly said, “shut up!” to negative, busy thoughts. They softly murmured, “isn’t this magic?”

“Yeah,” I replied, “I think this is.”

Jess is a recent graduate of Aquinas College, an aspiring writer, a runner, and a beach bum. She grew up in Conklin, MI, and now lives and works in Grand Rapids. You can share your comments and thoughts with her on Twitter (@JessVenlet), or by leaving a comment below.

Thanks to Stephanie Irwin for sharing her True North with us. 

When I was little the car ride up north was long.  My grandparents had a cottage in Oscoda and my family drove up from Flint most every weekend in the summers.  My mom, brother and I, bags packed, would wait eagerly for my dad to get home from work on Fridays and we’d head out of the driveway only minutes after he’d pulled in.   Just when the car ride was getting the best of me I’d hear my mom say, “There it is, the big lake behind the trees!”  From the back seat I would sit up tall, crane my neck to the right, focusing on the spaces between the trees and searching for glimpses of blue.  It was always exhilarating yet at the same time calming to connect with Lake Huron again. 

Sunrise over Lake Huron

When I was 12 my grandma sold her cottage but the big lake hadn’t seen the last of me.  We would be drawn back together some 30 years later when I was least expecting it.  I had never given much serious thought to buying a place up north, I guess figuring I could never afford that kind of luxury, until one day in January of 2006 when what had always been just a romantic notion suddenly became a real possibility.  By word of mouth I happened to hear of a little one-bedroom cottage for sale in Au Gres.  When I heard the particulars and saw a picture of the view, I don’t know if it all began to blur or if it became perfectly clear.  I could do this, by God, I could do this!   

When I told my brother I was buying a cottage and that it might be a whole new chapter in my life, he claimed that was an understatement and that it would instead be “a whole new book.”  It has indeed been just that.  It turns out the cottage is on that stretch of highway where Lake Huron is first visible, a hidden jewel called Hammel Beach.  It’s such a treasure that I just can’t keep it to myself.  I invite every friend, relative and colleague to visit, hoping they will feel and experience what I do: the fascination with nature’s simple complexities, that it lives and is conscious, and the miraculousness of it all.    

The view of the lake isn’t just a sea of blue.  There’s White Stone Point to the left, Charity Island straight ahead and Point Lookout to the right where the wealthy from Bay City used to come by boat to vacation 100 years ago.  Between Point Lookout and the island is the Gravely Shoal Lighthouse which marks the shipping channel.  Day and night, seven days a week, freighters pass by in either direction between Charity and the light.  Up the beach is a little tributary flowing into the lake called Silver Drain and there’s actually a cottage built on a bridge over it, between the lake and the highway.  That bridge I’m told was on the original road, later replaced by the highway. 

I find that I’m a better version of myself at the lake.  I read more, write more and paint again.  I walk the beach with my camera and meet neighbors.  Hammel Beach is my muse.  It even feels good to do chores and maintain the place.  There’s a hardware store/fudge shop across the road, run by a couple from Ann Arbor who moved north to live their dream.  I find that fixing the sink is more palatable when you’ve “got fudge” as their sign says.  Nearby is the Cozy Cove Resort run by Martha and Stuart.  And up the road a bit is a gas station/ice cream shop owned by my next-door-neighbors.  It’s decorated in a tropical motif inside proving even people who live in paradise have their fantasies. 

A good friend of mine, as her little boy screamed in delight upon their arrival, said, “Oh I’m in heaven.”  I agree.  When you see bald eagles soaring by on a regular basis and yet it never becomes commonplace, heavenly is the word.  Reflective sunsets make the whole sky pink and blue and lavender, sometimes with a streak of rainbow, long after the sun itself has disappeared.  You discover that the lakes have tides that are visible within half an hour’s time.  Blue herons feed in the moonlight and the swans sleep out on the water.  On a clear day the thumb is visible with the naked eye, even the new wind turbines dotting the horizon.  A friend of mine finds a Petoskey stone.  You take a tube out to the sandbar and let the waves gently carry you to shore as a loon feeds and her eight black fuzzy babies take turns riding on her back.  Children catch tadpoles, build sandcastles and wish they could stay longer. 

Stephanie Irwin is a lifelong Michigan resident.  She writes essays and has been published in magazines and newspapers.  She also takes documentary photographs of the Lake Huron shoreline, several of which have been published as well as sold through the Flint Institute of Arts.

Thanks to guest blogger John Nicka for his story on camping in northwest Michigan, and his climb up Sleeping Bear Dunes.

In the summer of 2008 I went camping in Northern Michigan to celebrate the end of college. Suttons Bay, Elk Rapids, Old Mission—uniquely named places beckoned me as I drove my little Nissan up U.S. 131 to my own little paradise.  I pitched my tent in Traverse City that night and slept soundly.

The next morning I rose early and headed west on M-72 through Leelanau county with the intention of climbing the “Big Dune” at Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore, a massive dune complex that snakes for 35 miles along the Leelanau and Benzie county lakeshore.

After forty minutes of driving past cherry orchards, fruit stands and gorgeous countryside, I got to the park, paid my ten bucks and went in. I drove a couple of miles, parked my car, got out, and there it was—the Big dune.  Actually, it was freaking ginormous.  Over 400 feet high and so steep you can’t see the shoreline below, climbing it is no small feat.  Beyond the dune was Lake Michigan—simply known as “The Lake” to us.  This morning it was a stunning sapphire blue.  The waves gently moved toward shore as a few boats lingered on the horizon.  Nobody was on the dune itself, but several were on the lookout deck a hundred yards away.

With the sun climbing higher, I knew I had to get this done.  So I peeled off my shirt and started down the dune.  The shore slowly got bigger as I bounded down, and reaching the bottom only took ten minutes.   Peering up from the lake, the tourists looked like ants milling about. “Why do guys like me do this stuff?” I asked myself.   No matter.  Climbing was my only way out of this, so I sucked it up, planted all fours in the sand, and began climbing, almost apelike, up the dune.  I fell one foot for every three feet I climbed.  Still, I was doing alright until halfway up, when I had to stop and rest.  The view was sweet, but I noticed those two boats had parked on shore.  Were they watching?

Turning, I noticed some tourists atop the dune.  They had migrated from the deck, apparently wanting a closer look at the weirdo down below, so now I had an audience.  The pressure was now on, but I still stopped three times, panting and sweating, wondering what on earth I was thinking.

I clawed my way to the summit to the tourists’ applause, and tried not to look exhausted as a couple from Detroit came up and asked me about the climb.  Sucking wind, I looked back at the lake as I spoke to them, and we all agreed there was no more beautiful spot on earth than Michigan in the summer.  And they agreed that they’d never try what I just did.

I returned to my car, dried off, put on my shirt, and moved on to the next town—Glen Arbor.  But that’s for another day.

A native of West Michigan, John has just finished his first year of teaching in North Carolina, where he teaches High School History and English.  He still enjoys visiting Michigan and is enthusiastic about promoting his home state as a place to visit and to live.  You can share your thoughts with John on Twitter, or by leaving a comment below.

Last summer, contributing writer Tina Lassen scouted lesser-known state and federal preserves for the 2010 Michigan Travel Ideas feature, Wild Discoveries. Tina shares a handful of her favorites from the state’s southwest region. What’s your favorite Michigan park?

Towering Dunes
It’s impossible to miss the centerpiece of Duck Lake State Park north of Muskegon: an immense dune of golden sand that sweeps from the shores of Lake Michigan. The 728-acre park extends from the soft sand beach at the base of the dune inland to its namesake lake, plentiful with panfish. A day-use area includes a swimming beach, picnic tables, grills, and a shelter. A channel links the two lakes, paralleled by a boardwalk frequented by scurrying sandy feet.

Lazy Days
A simple inner tube is the best way to explore Pines Point Recreation Area, five miles northeast of Montague. Plop into the South Branch of the White River at one end of the campground and float lazily downstream through pines and oak savannah. The river’s horseshoe of a route returns almost back to the start, just beyond the grassy point at the other end of the campground. The river’s mellow current, sandy bottom and warm waters makes it a great family destination.

Quiet Beach
While beach lovers flock like seagulls to the many popular state parks that dot Lake Michigan’s sandy eastern shore, far fewer make their way to the surf line at Saugatuck Dunes State Park, a 900-acre park three miles north of Saugatuck. Nearly 14 miles of peaceful trails knit through the forested peaks and valleys of sand. The paths eventually emerge onto barren dunes—and miles of sand beach I shared with only the shorebirds.

Undeveloped Forests
Just a few miles south of St. Joseph and a few miles north of popular Warren Dunes State Park, Grand Mere State Park fronts Lake Michigan with an entirely different feel. This 1,000-acre park preserves an increasingly rare habitat of three interdunal lakes, unique enough to earn it status as a National Natural Landmark. It’s another half-mile hike across the open dunes to two miles of beach, and a distant view of the Lake Michigan shore as it curves west toward the state line.

Pedal Through the Park
The Kal-Haven Trail ranks as one of Michigan’s narrowest state parks, a 10-foot-wide path that follows a former railroad corridor from South Haven 43 miles east to Kalamazoo. Wide-tire hybrid or mountain bikes work best on the crushed gravel trail, which meanders across a patchwork of farm and field, and through towns like Gobles and Bloomingdale. Stop for photos at wooden trestle bridges—and wherever local businesses tempt riders with signs for ice cream and fresh apple cider.

Freelance writer Tina Lassen has spent more than 25 years exploring and writing about Michigan’s outdoor adventures. She is a frequent contributor to Midwest Living Magazine, and has written extensively about Michigan in guidebooks like National Geographic’s Guide to America’s Outdoors: Great Lakes.

Thanks to Stacy Niedzwiecki for this stunning guest blog submission.  These are photos she took at Sleeping Bear Dunes in Empire.  Stacy won 2nd place in the Pure Michigan Pro Photo Contest in August of 2009.  Remember - we are always looking for guest bloggers, so be sure to send us your pictures, videos, and stories!

Stacy Niedzwiecki, an outdoor photographer and graphic designer, assembled this video montage of the Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore as part of her entry for ArtPrize 2009 held in Grand Rapids. The Rockford, Michigan photographer captured the majority of the images during her time as an Artist-in-Residence with the Glen Arbor Art Association in fall of 2007.  Let Stacy know what you think of her pictures by contacting her via Twitter, or by leaving a comment below.

Thank you to guest blogger Sheena Leazenby for sharing her photo tour as she explored the Lake Michigan coast.

Sheena Leazenby is a graphic designer and photographer born and raised in Grand Rapids. Her parents grew up in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, so she spent a lot of time as a child enjoying the more rustic and rural landscapes Michigan has to offer. She really enjoys Northern Michigan’s landscapes and expansive vistas, and also enjoys all the offerings a city like Grand Rapids has to offer.  If you have a question for Sheena, or want to let her know what you thought of her photos, please leave a comment below.

Whitefish Point Light Station

The Shipwreck Coast in the Upper Peninsula was chosen as one of National Geographic Traveler’s “Drives of a Lifetime”.  Anyone who has ever been there knows that this is true – it’s one of the most breathtaking sites you’ll ever see.

The Shipwreck Coast describes a stretch of land between Marquette and Whitefish Point, home to the Great Lakes Shipwreck Museum & Whitefish Point Light Station.  Here, the roads wind so close to Lake Superior that sometimes you forget that you are driving on land.  The coast gets its name from the long and storied history of shipwrecks.  From famous ones, like the Edmund Fitzgerald, to mysterious unknown ships that have washed up on shore, this area has seen more than 300 shipwrecks.

Kayakers at Pictured Rocks

As you wind along the coastline, you’ll come across some of the most beautiful sites Michigan has to offer.  You’ll pass the Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore, where the wind and water has shaped the sandstone into amazing formations.  You can stop into the Marquette Harbor Lighthouse, which dates back to 1866, or explore the Grand Sable Sand Dunes. 

National Geographic got it right when they named the Shipwreck Coast one of their “Drives of a Lifetime” – this is a Pure Michigan must-see.

Guest Blogger Rick Kessler shares his family’s story about camping in Tawas this summer.

If a sunset can capture the attention of a 14-year-old girl and two boys, ages 11 and 9, you know it must be a good one.

And that was just one of the highlights of our camping trip to Tawas Point State Park this summer.
We had spent the week playing in the waves on the Lake Huron side, swimming in the warm waters on the Tawas Bay side, exploring the sandy trails along the peninsula, and biking through East Tawas to Tawas City and exploring the downtowns of each. Lunch at G’s Pizza and ice cream at Marian’s Dairy Bar were highlights, and by the end of the last day of our trip we were whipped — but not whipped enough to be lured away by the promise of a glorious sunset.

My wife and I were sitting around our campfire when we were alerted to the sunset. The kids came racing back on their bikes, demanding that we get our camera and head back to the beach with them. We arrived in time to capture the fleeting moments as the sun dipped below the downtowns of East Tawas and Tawas City, with Tawas Bay in between us. Leftover rain clouds from earlier in the day provided for a spectacular site as the sun’s rays poked through them.

We stayed there for a good 15 minutes — an eternity of calm for our active kids. Eventually, the amber glows of the sun were replaced by Michigan’s state bird — mosquitoes — so we returned to our campsite, devoured the best s’mores ever and slept in the next morning. The perfect end to a perfect week of camping.

Rick Kessler, an editor for The Oakland Press, is a lifelong Michigan resident and a fan of Detroit’s sports teams as well as those of his alma mater, Michigan State, and whatever teams his kids might be playing on. Rick and his family are avid RV campers who are gradually making their way to each of Michigan’s state parks. You can contact Rick via email, or by leaving a comment below.