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About Tehuti
I am an amateur writer of novels, serials, and novellas. Most of my work is in the genres of fantasy, mythology, drama, occult, GLBT, and erotica.
As I'm not seeking publication, I offer my work online for free reading. I'm not seeking stylistic critique so much as feedback from people who just like reading what I write. I love hearing what people think of my characters, plots, themes, etc., so if you have any comments or advice on those, feel free to share. I'm not hugely popular and often go many months without hearing from readers so I enjoy all the comments I get!
My interests are Ojibwa mythology, Mackinac Island, Egyptian mythology, Jungian symbolism and dream interpretation, ritual crime, fantasy writing, and various other things you can find in my personal bio, available just to the right. Please click to learn more about me and what I'm looking for in terms of readers and potential friends.
Feel free to hit me up if you're interested in any of these things, and enjoy my writing!
Tar! :) |
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Untitled Tentative Blog-Type Thing Entry #658941, added on 07-13-09 @ 5:35 pm EDT
Entry Access Restriction: None.
I suppose I better type this up or I'll never get it done! I've just been so dreadfully busy lately. As a result I'm probably forgetting some bits.  The trip wasn't terribly eventful but I enjoyed myself.
Anyway, on June 26 I went to the island, relatively early in the year, but I always have hopes of going a second time. I never seem to GET to, but I always hope to. When Psychologist asked why this is, I told her it's because I always get this horrible FEAR every time I plan to go to the island.  Strange but true. The day before I plan to go I always get all anxious and think things like, "I'm not prepared! I'm not ready yet! I don't want to go tomorrow, I'll go later!" I just mentally freak out that I'll forget something important like my map or camera (I even have recurring dreams about this), and I'm ALWAYS dreading the camera will malfunction. By the time I've been on the island for an hour or so, such feelings have subsided for the most part, though the camera worry is always there. Yet I always panic at the last moment. *shrug*
Anyway again, I believe I just managed to catch the 10AM ferry since the 10:30 takes you under the Mackinac Bridge; that would be an interesting experience but my goal is to go to the island, not waste a half hour going under the bridge. Maybe some other day. My plans this year were to head up the middle of the island, maybe detour to Cave of the Woods and Crack-in-the-Island, stop at British Landing before heading out to Friendship's Altar, then head back up the middle and maybe stop by Fort Holmes if I had the energy. Turns out I only basically got to go to Friendship's Altar but I took lots of nice pictures anyway, including along the west shore, which wasn't originally planned. More on that later.
The dreaded Fort Street *cue ominous music* was the first path I had to take and it was just as bad as I remembered it. Ugh, I hate that road. As I dragged myself up it, I could hear a family of tourists behind me doing the same; they had a dog on a leash and it was making good progress but wheezing just as much as I wanted to. Near the top of the street there's a gate that opens only in the middle leaving room for just one party to pass through at a time; I reached this at the same moment as the dog, which was pulling along a child after it (as I heard the boy say, "I have an idea, I'll just let the dog pull me to the top!"; the boy's mother--"He seems to be doing pretty well!"). I halted to let the dog and family pass, because in truth, I was just about to keel over from exhaustion, I relished any excuse to stop. However, the father halted the dog and said, "Sorry!" to let me pass through first, so I did. Ugh, I really didn't mind letting them go first! Not long after passing through I located a small bench area with an overlook on the side and stopped there, ostensibly to admire the view, in reality to just figure out where my lungs were hiding. ;_;
From Fort Street I headed along Custer Road. I stopped so many times just to take pictures of the lovely woods that it wasn't long before I kept repeating to myself, "I'm never going to get anywhere!!" Seriously, I'd stop, take out the camera, take a picture (actually, usually two since I take a landscape view and a portrait view, bad habit of mine), put the camera away, take a few steps, stop, take out the camera, take a picture...ugh. So I wasn't making very good time, but whatever. The woods were just too lovely to pass up. I passed a huge pine tree that looked almost exactly like the Forest King (wrong area however) so this leaves me wondering if that tree I was certain was FK really was, if such trees are so common. Ah well. FK was in the right spot and had some impressive branches, more so than this tree, so I'll keep assuming that was him for now. I also noticed that the ever-present myrtle was flowering! There are just these gorgeous woodland fields of myrtle all over the island, so green and lush, but I never knew the stuff flowered until now. The flowers were this purplish-blue color. I guess myrtle isn't a Michigan wildflower since I can't find it in my book. Hm. Anyway.
As I passed the cemeteries, I could hear tourguides in their carriages reciting their spiels about the scenery. One came from a distance, chattering about Ste. Anne's Cemetery--"...and this is my first year on the job, so they're making me tell this joke. Why is there a fence around the cemetery? Because people are dying to get in..." I headed on to where Custer Road merges into Garrison Road. You know, I only just now noticed that I must have passed right by Fort Holmes Road and the way up to the fort, puh! Well, as it turned out I got back into town just in time to catch the right ferry home so I probably wouldn't have had time anyway. I believe it was along Garrison Road that I passed a man and a woman seated on their bikes, looking into the woods while the man explained the island's history to the woman.
"This wasn't always an island, you know," he was saying as I came into view, my camera at the ready.
"What was it?" she asked.
"It used to be part of the mainland." I stopped a ways ahead of them to shoot some pictures of the lovely woods. "There was this huge lake that once covered everything here," he went on, and I thought, Glacial Lake Algonquin. "I can't remember the name of it," he admitted, and I thought, Glacial Lake Algonquin! "I want to say Lake Ponchartrain," he added, and I honestly could no longer help myself.
"Lake Algonquin," I called out.
They turned to me. "Algonquin?" he echoed, and I repeated myself and nodded. He turned back to the woman and went on with his story. "Anyway, it was all one big huge lake called Lake Algonquin."
"So what happened to this lake and how did this turn into an island?" the woman asked.
"Well, the lake level kept rising and falling and finally the glaciers melted away and this is what was left. The Straits used to be nothing more than a river." He turned back to me; I was still shooting pictures of the woods. "And I bet this young lady has read everything there is to know about the subject!"
I probably turned brilliant red, good thing the woods were so shaded! "Oh, I just love visiting and reading about the island," I blurted out. "I come here every year. I'm just interested in it, is all."
"So you're an expert on it?" he said, half jokingly.
I could not think of an answer to that--I mean, I know a lot about it, but I'm certainly no expert. So I just kind of shrugged and said, "I don't know!" and promptly felt very stupid. Jeez, what a dumb answer!
The two of them chattered a bit more, then got back on their bikes and passed me. "You come here every year?" the man asked as he did so, slowing down; I nodded. "How long do you stay?"
"Oh, I just come for the day and then go back home."
"Fascinating place, isn't it?"
"It sure is."
They headed on their way, though stopped shortly ahead, listening to an odd muffled ip--ip--ip noise coming from the woods. "I wonder what that is?" the man asked, and as I walked past I couldn't help but answer again, since I knew it and all.
"I think it's a chipmunk," I said, though I was positive it was, since I recognized the muffled chipping noise from having heard it back at home. I went on my way now, not wanting to appear any more know-it-all than I already had. >_<
I reached where Garrison Road turns into British Landing Road, passing the airport, and here had to make a decision. I had wanted to head down State Road out to Cave of the Woods, but I just could not bear the thought of taking State Road today. It's just so dreadfully long. I decided I would skip that part of the trip; there's always the next time. So I tried to keep on British Landing Road, though it took me a while to figure out which way to go since the roads are positioned strangely and the signs are placed such that they don't seem to point at the roads they're the signs for. See, I saw the sign for State Road, but it seemed to be indicating British Landing Road, so I actually started to head down Leslie Avenue! (AKA, that road that looks like an epileptic snake, see my Mackinac Island entries for 2006.) Fortunately it took me only a couple of moments to realize my mistake and I corrected myself and went the right way.
The crazy-looking trees spanning British Landing Road not far from the Battlefield looked like they hadn't had a good spring, their leaves seemed a bit sparser than usual. Hm. I came to the avenue of weird twisted cedars and that lovely huge one I like to call the Great Medicine Tree or Grandfather Cedar; I never tire of taking pictures of it, it's just so impressive. I passed a dead chipmunk in the road. I'm not used to seeing roadkill in a place where there are no cars! Poor thing. I eventually reached Croghan Water, and paused here to take some photos; at a distance here and there through the trees near this area, I could see vast expanses of purplish-white which I knew were slews and slews of flowers; on a previous trip I saw vast expanses of yellow. They're just barely visible peeking through the trees. This year, there was flowering yellow stuff at Croghan Water. The plant life was so thick that the water, if there was any, wasn't visible. I read in one old source that Croghan Water is fed by a spring (I think this was in Prehistoric Mackinac Island), yet in more recent sources I've read that it's seasonal and is replenished by rainfall so that it dries up now and then. I prefer to think of it as being spring fed, at least to an extent (because this fits in better with my stories), though it's quite definitely seasonal; I have pictures from around 2004 of there being an actual pond there, whereas the past couple of times I've seen it, it's so choked with reeds and plants and flowers that I haven't any idea if there's actually a body of water there. *shrug* I just fullviewed one of my pictures of the shore area where the water was before (in 2004 I was on the opposite side, near the water, whereas this and the last time there, I approached from the other direction, which has more plant life) and it does look like there's some scummy water glutted with plants and algae, so I guess it just wasn't as full this year.
Back along British Landing Road, I encountered a nature sign regarding "tip-up mounds":
Tip-up Mounds
Notice the numerous rounded mounds of dirt and gravel along this trail. Years ago a tree stood at each of these spots. Most trees growing here have very shallow root systems because Mackinac Island has only a thin soil layer over its limestone bedrock. Every year high winds blow down many large trees, pulling roots, soil and gravel with them. After years of decay the fallen tree returns its nutrients to the soil and all that is left is a "tip-up-mound" of dirt and gravel next to a shallow depression in the forest floor.
On the one hand, I knew of this already, but on the other, I prefer to believe that many such hollows, in particular the bigger ones, are in fact clogged sinkholes indicative of hidden caves beneath the island! Come on now. Doesn't that sound immensely more fascinating? I tried to photograph one such "tip-up mound" (or clogged sinkhole  ) but cameras don't capture depth that well, so, meh.
According to the map, British Landing Nature Trail, which takes one to Friendship's Altar, started in this area. Would I prefer to head out there first, taking that to British Landing, or to go to British Landing first, then start at that end of the trail and work my way to the Altar? I sought out the trail head and there was virtually nothing there! Seriously. Just this bit of what looked maybe like a trail, heading up this steep hill, then disappearing. o_o Where did it even go? I decided I'd try the other end of the trail; perhaps it would be in better shape. I felt like taking a break anyway.
I photographed some odd yellow flowers along the road which according to my book must be birds-foot trefoil. Interesting, never heard of that before. I then passed the pretty private garden along the right and photographed the poppies since my mother wants a good photo of one for some reason, even though I find poppies to be one of the weirdest, ghastliest flowers imaginable, and then British Landing came into view.
I heard a horse let out an incredibly loud whinny, then somebody said, "She's just talking to the other horses!" The horrible whinny came again and I saw that the horse in question was nowhere near any other horses, so that theory was open to speculation. I find this very odd as I went browsing descriptions of my previous trips to the island and according to the 2006 trip, something almost exactly the same happened back then too just as I reached British Landing. Weird. Anyway, after visiting the bathroom (the nature center was closed, is that thing ever open??), I selected a picnic table and sat down to eat half of my sandwich. There was a boulder several yards away upon which stood a seagull which eyed me and my food the entire time I ate. I took a scad of pictures of him but only one came out in proper focus, for some reason in all the rest the focus is on the background and not the seagull, don't know why that happened since I was only using the zoom, stupid Canon. "You're not getting my food," I muttered at him, and after a while he gave up and flapped off.
I visited the bathrooms again, then perused my map, trying to figure out how to approach Friendship's Altar from here. Scott's Road, perhaps? I squinted at the map and realized that British Landing Nature Trail opened up right behind the very same building that hosted the bathrooms and nature center! I could just go right behind it! All right then. I went around the side and behind the building to try to find the trail. There was poison ivy ALL OVER--when I located the trail, seriously, it was like a foot-wide trail with poison ivy glutting the left and right. I gingerly picked my way along this; I'm fairly certain I took this path sometime in the past since I recall batting aside wildflowers that were in the way, but I can't remember when that was. In any case the trail certainly hadn't gotten any bigger. There was a sign near the trail:
British Landing Naturetrail (not sure why it's one word, but it is)
The British Landing nature trail wanders for 1/2 mile through Mackinac Island's forest, to the bluff above Friendship's Altar overlooking the Straits of Mackinac. Several interpretive panels have been placed along this trail to help you better understand the Island's natural history.
As you walk try to experience and appreciate the environment with all of your senses, one at a time.
Keep your eyes open for tiny delicate wildflower blossoms and signs of active wildlife.
Feel the smooth bark of the birch trees, the jagged edge of limestone and the spongy mosses. Listen for song birds, scurrying chipmunks and tree limbs rustling in the wind high above your head. Smell the fragrant balsam fir needles in the damp, humid soil in the rich hardwood forest.
What! No tasting anything??
Another sign nearby cautioned visitors to stick to the marked trail. As I headed onto the path, I could hear a man and woman talking behind me. The man kept his voice low and quiet and so I couldn't understand a thing he said, but the woman, she was another story. I could hear her from a mile away. She was just grousing and BITCHING the entire time. I didn't catch the first things she said, but as they drew near I heard her carp something like, "And these are what he calls FRIENDS!" They reached the end of the trail and stopped. "I'm not walking down some trail full of BUGS!" the woman snapped.
Your loss, my gain, I thought. But I guess her husband changed her mind, for they started coming after me. I was taking pictures, and just finished when they approached, so I had to step aside to let them through; they got ahead of me since I just kept seeing lovely things to take photos of. The trail seemed quite small, so I hoped they'd be on their way quickly so I could take it myself. The woman, however, didn't seem to want any part of it. They wandered off a little ways and must have reached one of the interpretive nature signs for I heard her bark, "I can see this same plant in my own BACKYARD!"
 It was all I could do not to lift my head and yell, "For God's sake, lady, why did you even COME to this island if you hate it so frigging much?? Just shut the f**k up and let those of us who actually ENJOY the place do so in peace!!" Seriously, I felt so sorry for her husband, who kept his voice low and level the entire time. Having to put up with such crap. Poor man. If this is what she's like just walking a little nature trail I'd hate to hear her when she's REALLY upset. Ugh. I saw them meander off along the trail and disappear behind the trees, so hoped they were long gone and I could now look at the delicate wildflowers and feel the jagged limestone and hear the scurrying chipmunks and smell the fragrant balsam and not taste any of the wildlife like the nice signs told me to. But then I saw them heading back my way. _-_ UGH. Fortunately, the woman must have won out over her poor husband and they were just on their way back to British Landing, so they passed by me and kept on going, the woman bitching the entire time until they were out of earshot and there was nothing but the wildflowers and limestone and chipmunks and balsam and whatnot. Yea!
It wasn't long before I started seeing the lovely moss and balsam needles and such and taking pictures. Sticking to the marked trail as the sign cautioned, however, was another matter entirely. British Landing Nature Trail must not be maintained very much, if at all, for several times I had to stop and look around myself in confusion, wondering where it had gone. "How do I stick to the marked trail when the trail isn't even there??" I asked myself repeatedly. All I could do was head in the direction that looked like it might be a trail, and fortunately for me, the path would shortly reassert itself and I could continue on my way, but it was pretty confusing. Not only that, but I must have run into every single frigging spiderweb on it--seriously, every few minutes I'd be sputtering and waving my arms and wiping at my face and both cursing at and apologizing to the spider whose work I'd just ruined. Ick. So at the very least, I was the only one who had taken the trail this day, but probably also the only one who'd taken it in weeks if not months. I even had to clamber over a fallen tree! I hope this is just because it's such a little-used trail and not an ominous sign of state budget cuts...honestly.
Despite that it was a nice trail, naturewise. Every so often I'd come upon one of the interpretive signs describing the wildlife and plants and such. And the moss was just to die for. I even spotted a stray ladyslipper here and there! I crossed what must have been Scott's Road, and the bluff arose to the left along the trail. I wish photos could capture how beautiful it looked. It was so peaceful and lonely out here. I'd brought along one of those Off clip-ons or whatever they are, in case the mosquitoes were as hideous as they've been the past two years, but I guess the bats must be reasserting themselves for the mosquitoes were few and far between. I admired the limestone protruding from the ground here and there, and the lovely patterns on the balsam bark (couldn't smell the needles though), and a rock so covered with moss that it looked like some green furry creature that I just wanted to pick up and carry home with me, and the stray spiderwebs still smacking into my face so much that I at last resorted to walking with my hands held out in front of me, and then I wondered, where the hell is Friendship's Altar??
Seriously, this trail seemed WAY longer than the map showed it as. I could not remember what way I previously took to reach the Altar but I didn't think it had been this way, so I wasn't sure what was going on. However, just at that moment, I glanced up, and there was this big limestone sea stack right smack in front of me.  I'd practically walked right into it. Jeez. So here it was.
Just like my last time at the Altar, the sun was shining from right behind it so my photos of this side came out an awful combination of over- and underexposed. I clambered up the rise around the Altar and made my way around it, taking pictures of all sides. I kept hearing people nearby but nobody came to disturb me; I think they were just heading down the nearby Scott's Road. I admired a tiny little cave I found in the side of the rock, with a tiny little pinecone nestled in it, so cute! I had set my purse and camera bag down by one of the numerous limestone hunks littering the ground around the Altar, so went to dig in it and fetch a pinch of tobacco which I placed in one of the holes in the rock. Just seemed proper. I looked at the stairs leading up to the viewing platform nearby and yes, the cedar from 2004 was still perched precariously atop the boulder to the side, as if somebody had set it there. I wanted to go up there and look at the view, but I didn't feel like climbing the steps just for a distant glance at some water when I was getting tired and had a long walk still ahead of me. I think it was around two PM anyway (the time on my photos says one PM, but I think I forgot to set the time properly, it also has the day wrong for some inexplicable reason!), time to get moving. I bid the Altar farewell and started to head back, only to stop dead, utterly confused, when I found myself facing what looked like three roads, I believe. I hadn't taken a road! On looking at my map I figured this must be the junction of Scott's Road and another, unnamed road which goes to the British Landing state dock; I was tempted to take Scott's Road back to British Landing but decided against it, just in case I went the wrong way (I get turned around easily, as you can see), so went back to the Altar, remembered the direction I'd approached it from (duhr), and got back to British Landing. Jeez Louise.
Once there, I went down to the shore to stick my feet in the water, which I haven't gotten to do in ages, and photographed a sailboat with the Mackinac Bridge in the distance. After a final bathroom trip, it was time to head back. But I no longer felt like taking British Landing Road up the middle of the island since it has hills in it. That left the shore road along the west side of the island--the opposite choice from 2007, when my back nearly killed me. I've lost almost 60lbs since then (just wish it showed), so my back wasn't much of an issue--I was tired, as I tried to explain to Psychologist, but it wasn't pained-and-exhausted tired like in 2007, it was just "I'm tired of walking around and want to sit down and rest now!" tired. I didn't feel like negotiating any hills. So I'd go around the shore. That would give me the chance to see Devil's Kitchen, anyway.
The walk back was relatively uneventful but pleasant, with lots of nice photo opportunities. The amount of tourists passing by was rather irksome though; I always had to be careful not to get in someone's way. And one unpleasant thing I discovered was that the west shore is no longer so wild and undeveloped. Anything but. There are a lot of new cottages that have been built in there, apparently in the past five years, which I do not remember ever seeing before, so what used to be beautiful cedar forest is now a bunch of Victorian houses. So depressing. Stupid progress. They're lovely houses and I took pictures of some, but still, give me the nice cedar-wooded bluff any day. Seeing hunks of limestone scattered in their yards, I lamented how much destruction of the island bedrock and natural formations must have gone into their construction. *sigh*
I halted in surprise when I stumbled upon Brown's Brook--I'd completely forgotten about it being along the way! When I took photos of it in 2002, it was just a trickling stream and nothing much to see; by 2004, it had been moderately developed and cleaned up with things such as a boardwalk put in. Hm, browsing my description of the 2004 trip, I think I might have in fact confused the Brown's Brook trail with my "memory" of supposedly once taking British Landing Nature Trail in the past; perhaps this was my first time on the nature trail after all. In any case, this year the brook looked even more cultivated than before (my 2007 map even calls the path "Brown's Brook Trail"), though it might be just my memory. Comparing my photos from 2001 and this year, I think perhaps they placed rocks along it in places to direct the water in a specific direction, for example. I didn't stop to explore the boardwalked area, I'm afraid. Maybe some other time. I did get some nice pictures of the brook itself, though. I noticed that the stream flows right under the shore road and out the other side, down to the shore. Interesting. I had to get going on my way.
Somewhere along the way, unsure where or when, I was delighted to spot a rabbit hopping along near the shore. That was nice to see. 'Bozho at work as usual. 
Along the water I photographed a shore boulder that I long ago photographed in 2001 and 2002; I thought it had seagulls perched upon it, but it was only when fullviewing the image at home that I discovered they were little stone cairns! Somebody(s) likes erecting little cairns at various spots along the shore--in my sunset bridge photos from 2000 you can see a cairn sitting on the shore, for example--and I was to see more of them along the way this year. They're very well constructed, whoever builds them, oddly shaped stones placed upon each other in such a way that they balance perfectly in a way you wouldn't expect to be possible. I also at last came across unnamed limestone bluffs/rock formations that I've been wanting another look at since my last time passing by this way, in 2002. (I just noticed, by comparing pictures, that dead trees perched atop two different crags back in 2001 and 2002 are still there in 2009! Amazing!) I'm puzzled that they seem to have no names, unless perhaps Wood mentioned names for them somewhere in Historic Mackinac; I'll have to check that out sometime now that I have a general idea where they are. At least one or two are big enough to be compared to such a thing as Robinson's Folly, for example, yet they're not on the map or marked or anything. I wonder if one could be the remains of the old Chimney Rock that supposedly collapsed--not the still-standing Chimney Rock, AKA Sunset Rock, near the Stonecliffe. Confusing, yes. Looking at my map, it does look like these might be around the right area. Hm.
I passed more cairns and at last arrived at Devil's Kitchen, but was unable to take a decent photo of it in its entirety as a family of tourists was taking turns posing within. *sigh* I took photos of the top and sides instead, and was delighted to discover a tiny cave right beside it. Now, it's not a new cave, it's actually part of the Kitchen, a recess just beside it, but flowers and leaves have grown up all around it so now it's like its own little cave in itself. I took pictures but I do regret that I didn't nudge my way inside it as there are even tinier little caves/recesses within its walls, perfect places for hiding things! Someday I'll have to go back there and put something in one just for the fun of it. I didn't have anything I intended on leaving behind this time due to my poor luck finding a proper recipient in the past. Oh well. I also, for the first time, noticed a trickle of water running just beside the cave, along the ground, and peered up into the trees, up the bluff, to see twisted cedar roots forming another small cave, upon which was a dilapidated old red sign declaring the water unsafe to drink, Mich. Department of Health. So I'm guessing, by the looks of it, that spring water runs down under these roots and had made its way down to the road. The sign was very old and mangled, twisted up in the roots and almost unreadable. Oh how I wish I could have climbed up the bluff a bit to peer into that hole under the roots. But I'm not quite that adventurous, and even if I were--I could make an exception for something this fascinating--climbing is not allowed. Granted, this wasn't Devil's Kitchen PROPER, so maybe there was some leeway, but I hate to break rules--take a look what became of Skull Cave, now fenced off from the public, probably because of jerks who would deface the thing. I do hope such a fate never befalls Cave of the Woods. 
I long ago read of an old spring in this area, the Wishing Spring, but that was early in the last century and who knew if it was still in existence? Apparently there are still springs to be found on the West Bluff, however, since I could see and even hear the trickle of water--I'd only ever heard that sound along the East Bluff, before, so this was a surprise. Perhaps the Wishing Spring still exists--off limits, but up there somewhere among the rocks. I decided to keep the adorable cavelet and the empty space shielded by the twisted cedar roots in mind for possible inclusion in future stories, and went on my way.
JEEZ this walk along the shore took forever! I'd thought it was a lot quicker than this! I'd honestly guessed that it couldn't possibly take me more than like an hour to get back to town, but I was way off. Only in retrospect did it occur to me to consider the shape of the west shore compared to that of the east shore--it really is quite meandering, with little bays and such, whereas the east shore is relatively straight going. Ugh. It was nice scenery and all but I was tired and a bit cranky of all the other tourists still making their way past. Whenever I reached one of the mile markers I couldn't believe how little progress I'd actually made! But Devil's Kitchen was a good sign that I was almost there.
I stopped to examine and photograph some odd patterns in the limestone along the road, and in a shaded spot near the shore, was puzzled to find a deuce of spades card lying upon the ground at the base of a tree, just like someone had placed it there. I also passed the "Is It You?" Somewhere In Time memorial (I prefer to call it a memorial though officially they seem to call it a "monument," it's just a smallish rock with a plaque on it, nowhere near being a monument), and at last reached the boardwalk heading into town. Here I took photos of the cottages and lilacs, and then of some kites flying way up in the air over town. I also got a photo of the entryway of the Boardwalk Cottage, I believe it's called, which would make a great stock photo for some artist, a little round entryway with ivy all around it, but my photos aren't stock and I doubt anyone would notice my stuff when looking for stock anyway. *shrug* I'd wanted, again, to visit the Haunted Theater, but by now it was after five PM and Ma had wanted me to catch the six o'clock ferry. I walked through town twice trying to locate the small general store where the previous year I'd bought a bottle of iced tea since my head was killing me, but couldn't find one, just tourist shops. So that was irritating, where the hell does somebody just buy something regular anymore?? I gave that up and just went to the bathroom area to do my business and rest for a few minutes, though unfortunately I couldn't sit and enjoy the view as I had in previous times; after a brief stop I went to the Island Bookstore and made a few purchases, admiring the cute little turtle charms for sale at the counter, then headed for the ferry docks. I'd thought I would get there early so I could sit on the benches along the dock and wait, but there was already a long line waiting; an Indian (from Indian) man reached the line before I did, so I took a step back to indicate he'd made it there first so should be ahead of me; probably shouldn't have done that as, after several moments, his ENTIRE FAMILY arrived to take their places ahead of me! Ugh. I didn't know he was saving somebody's place. >:/ One of the kids, a little girl, kept walking along the benches along the water and I kept expecting her to fall right in, but the older woman with them, who I assume was the grandmother, was wearing this brilliant orange sari (or was it green?--I forget, either way it was brilliant) and her hair was the most amazing color I've ever seen...it was jet black, but streaked through with copper--it wasn't bleached or dyed or whatnot, I believe that was really the color her hair was turning with age. I just stared and stared at her beautiful copper-tinted hair the entire time. When the line started to move, this family kept dallying and not paying attention and/or trying to round all the kids up, so I got antsy waiting for them to move and at last made my way on ahead, though they did catch up. Sometime I'm REALLY going to have to sit on the left side of the ferry, because I always sit on the right and get the wrong view. I can never remember that.
Anyway, I'd managed to catch the six o'clock ferry, yet my mother was NOT there waiting for me when I got back, which was irritating since I'd gone to the trouble of leaving early so I wouldn't make her wait. Not only that, but I couldn't get the vending machine with energy drinks in it, the only highly caffeinated stuff I could find (dammit, vending machines, CARRY MORE BLACK TEA!!), to work--it wouldn't take my money. It was only after my mother arrived that I noticed the sign said it was "empty"--every single drink in it was empty?? Cripes, Shepler's, refill your vending machines already. I hadn't been able to tell this earlier since the electronic sign reading "Empty" was in direct sunlight so it was red glowing lettering against a red glowing background. Stupid. I hope nobody saw me standing there trying to push a bill into an empty machine. -_-; I soon got some caffeine into me so shortly after all was well. So that was my trip.
I took about 650 pictures, but it might be quite a while before they see the light of the Internet as I just discovered, to my dismay, when editing my Powow page to include a link to my Flickr images that there are quite a few older Mackinac Island pics I never uploaded there, probably because I didn't think they made nice enough wallpapers and/or they were repetitive. I guess I was a lot more selective back then with what I uploaded to Flickr and DA, but by now I upload almost anything. I don't even have any pictures of Anne's Tablet or the Soldier's Garden among those photos! Well, my older pics weren't processed properly anyway so the colors are really off; I've long wanted to redo them to look more as they did in reality, but this means either replacing the old photos with new ones (as in the case of DA) or completely uploading everything all over again (in the case of both DA and Flickr). Seeing as I just earlier in the year CAUGHT UP on all my photo uploading, and am always paranoid that any day now either site is going to institute some sort of limit (hence making all my hours spent uploading that stuff wasted time), this thought is a terribly daunting one...but I'm not sure what else to do. I really want to redo my older pics, and I really want the world to see them, especially the Mackinac Island ones. So at the moment I'm redoing the old island photos and mulling over how to best approach this, especially considering how lousy my Internet connection seems to permanently be now. It doesn't seem right uploading the new pictures until the old ones are done because even though I've already processed them, maybe now I'd like to post EVERY single picture, even the lousier ones, just for informational/archival purposes; pictures I think are lousy now might not be in the future. After all, look at the ones I skipped before.
Times like these I really wish we had cable Internet. *sigh*
Anyway once more, that was my trip, hope somebody enjoyed. Oh yes. I just discovered, to my surprise, that the director of Mackinac State Parks, Phil Porter, winters right here in my own hometown and summers on Mackinac Island--I've probably walked right past his house there once or twice. I have one of his books--I believe he's behind the writing of the interpretive signs upon the island--and had mulled over trying to find out how to get in touch with him, but figured he was probably dead or something. Then I saw an article in the most recent issue of Traverse magazine, about a Mackinac Island baseball team, and he's quoted in it as being their shortstop. So I Googled him and found a blurb stating he lives here in Cheboygan! I looked in the phone book and there are both his addresses and telephone numbers! Then when I mentioned this to Ma, she said she even knows his wife well!  I wonder if he would know anything about the island or its geological history that I haven't found out somewhere else. I hadn't a clue he was so nearby me. I'll probably chicken out or he won't reply if I do write him, but I have to mull it over as well.
Ha ha, I find it funny that when I spellcheck this it asks me to check the spelling of Googled and Flickr.
Well, I lied. One more anyway. This hasn't been proofed, tar for now.
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This page last updated 11/11/09. Still under construction so may change at any time.
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