Tom, Vicki, and I were 500 miles from home and still in the Central Time Zone when we reached the Michigan border at 12 noon on Thursday September 21, 2023. As soon as we arrived in Menominee, Michigan, which was at the border with Wisconsin, my eyes were peeled as I anxiously waited to see an elusive Sasquatch. My tingling ‘Spidey senses’ were due to the fact, or alleged fact, that in May 2012, a trail camera owned by Craig and Barb Sulk captured what appeared to be the world’s greatest hide & seek champion on their property in Menominee. Their story became nationally known when the Animal Planet’s ‘Finding Bigfoot’ cast Matt Moneymaker, Ranae Holland, Cliff Barackman, and their goofy sidekick James ‘Bobo’ Fay rolled into Menominee to investigate the Sulk’s story. But for the next hour, as we drove from Menominee, through Escanaba, and then into Gladstone along the Lake Michigan shoreline, I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.
My two companions decided to find a place to eat in downtown Gladstone when we arrived at roughly 2:20pm. Since there didn’t seem to be a ton of dining options in the small Yooper town, Tom decided he wanted to try the fine cuisine at a place called China Lily – a diner that had great on-line reviews. As my photographer ordered his meal, which featured his favorite dish of pepper steak and onions, Tom said to Lily: “I saw your place had very good reviews, but since I make a great batch of pepper steak myself, I’ll let you know whether or not your pepper steak is better than mine.”
Sure enough, halfway through Tom and Vic’s meal, the friendly woman came to our table and asked for my photographer’s feedback, which he most certainly gave. “I’ll be honest, your pepper steak is okay – it’s definitely edible; but it doesn’t come close to the meal I cook at home. Let me know whenever you’re going to be in our area, which is in the Thumb of Michigan just south of Port Huron, and I’ll whip up a batch of pepper steak for you. I guarantee you’ll be begging for my recipe, which isn’t an ancient Chinese secret.”
Just before we left China Lily’s, Vicki secured our hotel for the night. She was able to book a room for a decent price at the Bavarian Haus Lakefront Inn, located along the shore of Lake Huron in St. Ignace, Michigan. For the next two-plus hours, which covered over 130 miles, the three of us travelled across the southern section of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula without seeing much of anything exciting. Even the fall foliage in mid-September wasn’t anything to write home about, which caused me to kick-back and relax in my camera case.
When we finally arrived in St. Ignace at 5:40pm, Tom asked his wife to drive into Bridge View Park before we headed to the hotel as he wanted to photograph the Mackinac Bridge from that vantage point. The historic bridge is the world’s longest suspension bridge between anchorages in the Western Hemisphere and connects Michigan’s two peninsulas. While the ‘Mighty Mac’ always seems to be a photographer’s dream, the late-day sun, combined with the hazy, overcast sky, made the bridge somewhat underwhelming to say the least.
The three of us had spent roughly 45 minutes at the park before we headed to our hotel, which was located towards the northern outskirts of St. Ignace and four miles north of the Mackinac Bridge. Once we arrived, it was easy to see the Bavarian Haus Lakefront Inn was a huge, but older, hotel. After Vicki had registered, Tom lugged their essentials, including me, to their second-level room that featured a great view of Lake Huron. From our room’s balcony, I also could see Mackinac Island some four or five miles to the east.
Even though my photographer and his wife weren’t hungry after they had filled their faces at China Lily’s, they decided to leave me in the room while they headed into town for ice cream. When they returned, I watched Tom shovel a banana split into his face so fast I thought he might eat the plastic spoon.
After they finished their ice cream treat, Tom and Vicki relaxed on the balcony and enjoyed their view of Lake Huron. At one point, around 9:01pm, the three of us watched as the International Space Station flew over the lake just north of our position. After our brief ISS encounter, a sighting I dubbed an IFO (Identified Flying Object), we returned to the room where my companions watched some of the Giants-49ers football game.
Tom extinguished the lights in the room at ten o’clock and I was left standing on the windowsill alone with my thoughts. The gentle sound of waves crashing to shore was relaxing and fueled my anticipation of seeing the sun rise over Mackinac Island in the morning, which was slated to happen at precisely 7:26am.
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It was still dark outside when Tom’s alarm went off at six o’clock in the morning on Friday September 22, 2023. I knew he was excited to see the sunrise over Mackinac Island, and so was I. However, when the “magic moment” arrived at 7:26am, I couldn’t see the sun, or the island, or even one of the largest freshwater lakes in the world because the entire area was fog-bound.
My two companions were moving very slowly that morning. I knew my photographer was disappointed with the sunrise, and Vicki didn’t roll out of the sack until 8:20am. But it didn’t matter much; in my mind, this was going to be a Seinfeld day – a day about nothing. Oh, we’ll go over one of the most incredible bridges in the country and get to Bay City in the afternoon where Tom and Vic will likely hang out with the family and play with their twin grandsons. And that’ll be it – no historic sites, and definitely no Presidential sites. Perhaps if I’m lucky, Tom will let me hang out with his grandson’s Jake Cronenworth bobblehead.
With the van loaded, Tom and Vic stopped for breakfast at the Wild Blueberry Breakfast & Bakery in downtown St. Ignace before we made the five-mile drive across the fog-bound Mackinac Bridge. Nearly 190 miles later, we arrived in Bay City at roughly one o’clock where the three of us hung out with Tom, Meghan, and their kids for the rest of the day. After an early dinner at Grandpa Tony’s, the entire gang went to our hotel, the AmericInn by Wyndham, where Bo and Rory swam in the pool for nearly two hours. Fifteen minutes after the gang headed back home, my photographer turned out the lights and he was fast asleep by 9:00pm.
As for me, I stood alongside the room’s television set where I thought about the next day – which was scheduled to be the final day of our trip. I knew we were only two hours from home, but I also knew Tom had one final Presidential stop up his sleeve. In my opinion, there’s no better way to end an amazing trip than with a Presidential site.
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The seventeenth and last day of our trip began when my photographer rolled his sorry carcass out of bed at 7:45am. Saturday September 23, 2023 was one of those rare days when Tom didn’t set his alarm – my photographer figured he’d wake naturally with enough time for him and Vicki to make it to Bo and Rory’s flag football game by 11am.
Once my two companions had filled their faces at the hotel’s breakfast nook, they loaded the Truckster for the final time. As much as Tom and Vic love to travel, loading and unloading all of their belonging each night and early morning is the one aspect of a trip they loathe.
We arrived at the field outside of the Bay City YMCA where Tom and Vic watched their twin grandsons play football. For some reason, my photographer left me alone in the van – which if I was totally honest, that decision didn’t bother me whatsoever. While I usually enjoy watching NFL games on TV with Tom, I wasn’t too excited about seeing a bunch of nine-year-olds run around with flags wrapped around their waists.
As soon as the twins’ football game was over at noon, Tom and Vic said their goodbyes and the three of us were headed for home. But instead of taking the usual expressway route from Bay City back to St. Clair, my photographer insisted we travel the highway that hugged the shoreline to the tip of Michigan’s Thumb. When we finally finished the slow-paced journey along the lake and we arrived in the small town of Port Austin, Vicki pulled the van into the parking lot of a place known as the Garfield Inn – which was located about three blocks from the shore of Lake Huron. For the past several years, the inn had been under renovation and was not yet opened when we arrived.
While the 3 1/2-story wooden structure is now a bed and breakfast, which also featured a restaurant that will be open to the public, it was once known as the Charles G. Learned House. The elegant estate in Port Austin was built at the “Edge of the Wilderness” in 1837 and was purchased in 1859 by New York businessman and agriculturist Charles Learned and his wife Maria. Five years prior to their move to Michigan, however, the Learned’s became friends with a college student named James Garfield from Ohio. The future President often stayed at Charles and Maria’s home in Poestenkill, New York in between college terms. Was it during this time when the young Garfield became infatuated with Maria Learned?
Once he was established in Port Austin, Charles Learned became a well-known businessman in Michigan’s Huron County. Not only did he develop a salt well on his property, but he also opened a sawmill; a shingle mill and barrel factory; and a flour mill as well. Around 1866, Learned constructed a large addition to the house, which was around the same time U.S. Congressman James Garfield visited his friends in Michigan’s Thumb. As a matter of fact, Garfield became a frequent guest throughout the rest of the decade. But what was his motive? Was the Congressman interested in Charles’ business ventures; did he enjoy the lakeside tranquility of Port Austin; or did he make the long journey to be close to Maria, whom he was rumored to be smitten with? I even wondered if James Garfield had left his wife Lucrecia and the kids back at their home in Hiram, Ohio and travelled to Port Austin for a ménage à trois.
On January 10, 1881, Maria Learned passed away from tuberculosis. While there is no record as to whether or not President James A. Garfield attended the funeral of his secret crush; he met his own fate less than six months later when the President was shot on July 2nd inside a train station in Washington D.C. While Garfield agonized for weeks in the White House, the President asked to be transported to the Learned home in Port Austin where he felt comfortable and had many fond memories. According to local legend, however, the President’s request was denied, and he was taken to Elberon, New Jersey instead, where he died on September 19, 1881 with his wife at his bedside.
While Vicki stayed in the van, my photographer carried me around the grounds of the Learned home where I posed for a large handful of photos. At one point during our visit, I stood on the historic porch where I envisioned Congressman Garfield sitting with Maria Learned in the late 1860s. Even though I couldn’t hear what they were saying to each other, I bet they weren’t exchanging recipes for Southern-style waffles.
I was surprised with the Presidential history at the Charles G. Learned House in Port Austin. Even though the historic house in just a hair over 100 miles from our front door, this was my first-ever visit to the place where President Garfield once stayed. And had it not been for my photographer’s former boss at his former place of employment, a cool safety guy by the name of Andrew Hahn, the two of us might never have known about the Garfield Inn. And since Andrew will likely never read this post, he’ll never know that Tom and I took him up on his suggestion and found our way to Port Austin, Michigan.
For the next two hours, the three of us made the slow journey southbound on a two-lane highway that took us along the eastern edge of Michigan’s Thumb. At precisely 4:30pm, on September 23, 2023, our lengthy trip had come to an end – we had made it safely back home. We had racked up 5,320 miles on our rented Chrysler Pacifica, which still had red dirt in its cracks and crevices from our time near Roosevelt’s Elkhorn Ranch in North Dakota. Even though my photographer and his wife did their best to avoid driving a minivan, and they complained when they had no other option, the Truckster did us well. Like Clark Griswold once said: “If you’re taking the tribe cross country, the Crysler Pacifica minivan is your automobile. You think you hate it now but wait ’til you drive it.”
With no other Presidential trips planned for 2023, my photographer placed me in his showcase which featured a very nice display of historic artifacts associated with the 1959 Winter Dance Party tour. That’s where I’ll be standing, alone with my thoughts, until we hit the road again at some point in 2024. Until then, Tom will take you, our faithful readers, on a virtual trip to some of the sites we have visited associated with Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, and J.P. ‘The Big Bopper’ Richardson. You’ll see the sites where those stars grew up, hung out, became famous, and ultimately met their fate.
Those posts won’t be about the Day the Music Died – but instead, That’ll Be The Day the Music Raved On! Oh, baby, you know what I like!
