Sarah Nigbor

Thank you to my coworker, the amazing and capable Andrew Harrington, for holding down the fort while I was out of town last week. I know everything is in good hands with Andrew at the helm.

My husband and I took a somewhat spur of the moment trip around Lake Michigan, discovering “downstate” Michigan for the first time. When my husband received the unwelcome news that he must undergo back/neck surgery on July 10 due to tremendous pain from discs pressing on his spinal cord, causing numbness in his left arm and hand, we decided to take a trip, just the two of us. We don’t know what the surgery aftermath/recovery will look like, but we know the road will be long and challenging. I’m just praying he will find some relief from the pain he’s endured for so long. Steroid injections no longer provide relief.

I’ve been a fan of Michigan’s UP for a long time, thanks to many dear friends who live there, but I had never been to the lower part of the state. We were blown away by the beauty of the Lake Michigan beaches and dunes, with a lighthouse in every town. If you ever have the chance to go, I highly recommend it. It’s not too far from home yet it feels like another world, minus the nasty humidity and heat of more tropical beach locales. And if you like cherries and blueberries, you’ll be in heaven. That area is called the “Fruit Belt” for a reason.

I got it in my head that we had to experience a true Lake Michigan sunset. Hubby was a trooper, climbing down an interminable stairway to the sand below, where we plopped in camp chairs near the water’s edge awaiting the splendor. It was well worth the exhausting hike back up, but something I didn’t expect was feeling like I was in the “Twilight Zone.”

As I looked around us, hordes of people gathered at the water’s edge, all holding their phones out in front of them pointed at the sun across the water. It was dead silent too, and eerie beyond belief. As the red, pink and orange hues faded to twilight purple, we packed up our chairs and hoofed it to the car before they all turned into a pack of zombies. Their trance unbroken, no one seemed to notice our departure. Phew!

Of course, lover of all ridiculous tourist traps, I had to find the world’s largest cherry pie pan in Traverse City. I’m lucky I have such an easygoing husband who doesn’t mind my search for all things peculiar. While impressive, I think the world’s largest ball of twine in Minnesota is more exciting.

Mackinac Island was like stepping back in time, where horse drawn carriages and bicycles are the only modes of transportation allowed. The ferry ride across Lake Huron was remarkable with the cool lake air whipping our hair around. How I long for that cool air in this 100-degree heat! Once on the island, I was surprised by two things: For some reason, I was oblivious to the fact that Mackinac is known for its fudge and multitude of lilacs. Both smelled heavenly; however, the horse urine and poo being scooped from the streets sometimes outweighed both. I’m a country girl, but whoo, was that stronger than I expected. The throngs of wall-to-wall summer tourists were crazy, but it was an experience I will cherish. I hope to go back to explore the island more when Shane is better and can walk around more.

When we returned back to good ol’ Sconnie, I missed the big lake but felt immediately at home. The return to “real life” was softened by the arrival of my best friend, who came from Seattle for Cheese Curd Festival. Each year, I am astounded at how coordinated and smoothly the festival is run and how much fun it is. Sure, the lines were a bit long for food, but everyone just seemed to be happy to be together. It was a nice welcome home. Thank you to the Cheese Curd Festival Committee and amazing volunteers who make it all happen. You guys rock!

It’s good to be home.