Today we transferred to Mackinac Island. First lesson: Don't pronounce it "Mackinack," or you will reveal yourself to be a “fudgie.”  “Fudgie” is a derogatory term for someone who ain’t from around here. The word “Mackinac,” sometimes “Mackinaw,” as in the city on the mainland, comes from an Indian phrase which meant “Land of the Great Turtle.”  The “Land of the” part got dropped and the French spelled the rest with the “c,” but the “c” has always been silent. “Fudgie” comes from the fact that one of the earliest industries on the island was fudge-making, by the Murdick company, who opened the first ever store that sold just candy. It has, by now, 200 years later, gotten completely out of hand, and now fudge is one of the defining characteristics of the island. I forget how many shops make and sell nothing but fudge, but it’s a lot—23 or something.

To get to Mackinac, you park in Mackinaw City and take a high speed ferry . It’s an 18-minute ride, and rather a fun one. The boat we were on uses some sort of water scoop for propelling action, and spews a huge arc of water behind it as it goes (see photos). Once on the island, you are restricted to exactly three means of transportation: bicycle, horse, or feet. EVERYONE is restricted to those means of transport; motorized vehicles have been banned on the island since 1898, when an early auto spooked the horses and led the mayor or someone to summarily ban the horseless carriage. The ban took. Even year-round residents can’t have cars. There are, apparently, three motorized vehicles on the island: a fire-truck, an ambulance, and a utility truck. There is a U.S. highway that circumnavigates the island, and it has the honor of being the only U.S. highway on which there has never been a traffic accident.

We got in about 2:30, checked in to our B&B (aside: one can, if one is posh enough, stay in the famous Mackinac Grand Hotel, but one must cough up $300 a night minimum—we figure that that rate gets you servants’ quarters—AND one must be prepared to be seen ONLY in suit and tie (men) or dressy dress (women—think Prom) after 6 pm . Every night. This is where rich people go to play “it’s still the Victorian Era.”), and then took the 2-hour horse-drawn carriage tour around the island to get the lay of the land. This is actually pretty interesting, and I recommend it, even though it’s expensive.

The horse-only laws have an interesting impact on local culture and economics. For example: in the summer, there are approximately 600 horses on the island (contrast 500 year-round resident humans). Each horse must eat 1.5 bales of hay (plus oats and other nutritious snacks) a day. That means roughly 900 bales of hay a day. We saw a load being delivered from the docks on, you guessed it, a horse-drawn carriage. We estimated each load is about 100 bales, so figure 9-10 horse-drawn delivery loads a day, every day, to be shipped over, loaded onto the truck, driven up to wherever they have to go, and off-loaded. Then do it all again tomorrow. We saw horse-drawn taxis, horse-drawn hotel shuttles, horse-drawn luggage delivery vehicles, horse-drawn trash pick-up, and horse-drawn recycling . The Grand Hotel is made much grander, I think, by the clip clop of the horse hooves which is almost constant in front of the hotel, and which frankly does more to evoke the era than the 20th century over-made up women in their too tight evening gowns which they keep hiking up because they aren’t comfortable with the strapless bodices.

Tomorrow we will go visit the fort (Fort Mackinac, built by the British during the Revolutionary War, surrendered by the British at the end of the war, stormed and captured by the British in the War of 1812, surrendered by the British in 1815, once again, to the victorious Americans, made into America’s second National Park –two years after Yellowstone—and surrendered back to the state of Michigan 20 years later when the fort was decommissioned and the soldiers, who were acting as the park caretakers, left. Subsequently, it became Michigan’s first state park.), the butterfly conservatory (tickets free with B&B reservation), and whichever other sights take our fancy during the day, until our feet get tired.

Oh—if you were wondering about the fudge: it comes in enormous half-pound bricks that do not lend themselves to carrying about to snack on. I bought a sampler pack and had it shipped home; will subdivide and share with friends and neighbors in more manageable pieces. Something to look forward to.

As I write this, the boy scouts are taking the flag down at the fort, which I know because Taps is blaring out over the city. (The fort is across the street from the hotel, but I bet the horn can be heard all over town.) That means it’s sunset, which means 10:00. Time to go to sleep!