We knew three things about Mackinac Island before the ferry left the dock: no cars allowed, famous fudge, and horses everywhere. All true. What we didn't expect was how much the place would win us over beyond the postcard stuff, or that we'd end the day sore from a hike we didn't plan to take.
Getting to the island
Mackinac Island sits in the straits between Michigan's two peninsulas, and the only way over is by ferry from Mackinaw City or St. Ignace. The crossing is short, maybe twenty minutes, and the views of the Mackinac Bridge on the way out are worth standing outside for even when the wind has opinions. Once you step off the dock, the car-free thing stops being a fun fact and becomes the whole experience. The main street is bikes, pedestrians, and horse-drawn carriages, and the sound of the place is hooves on pavement instead of engines. It takes about ten minutes to adjust and then you don't want to go back.
Fort Mackinac
The fort was the surprise of the day. Fort Mackinac has been sitting on the bluff above town since 1780, and it's not a plaque-and-velvet-rope museum. Costumed interpreters run rifle and cannon demonstrations, and when the cannon goes off you feel it in your chest. We spent way longer here than we'd budgeted, walking the barracks and the officers' quarters and reading about the soldiers who were stationed at what was, for most of its history, the end of the known map. The view from the walls covers the whole harbor, and it's the best vantage point on the island that doesn't require a hike.
The fudge situation
You cannot walk a block in town without passing a fudge shop, and most of them make it in the front window on marble slabs so the smell pulls you in off the street. We did our duty and sampled more than one shop for, let's say, journalistic reasons. Fabiola has strong opinions about which one won. Fair warning if you visit: "just one slice" is not a real plan, and the shops know it. Tourists here have been called Fudgies for over a century, and after one afternoon we understood why the nickname stuck.
Arch Rock and the accidental hike
After the fudge we needed to move, so we headed for Arch Rock, a natural limestone arch standing about 15 stories above the shoreline on the east side of the island. What was supposed to be a quick look turned into a real hike, up staircases and along trails through the interior of the island, which is almost entirely state park and much quieter than the town. The arch itself is worth the climb. Lake Huron below it is a shade of clear turquoise blue that we kept checking against the camera because we didn't trust the footage to be honest. It was.
Would we go back?
Yes, and next time we'd stay overnight. The day-trip crowds leave on the evening ferries, and by all accounts the island turns into a different, quieter place after dark. One day was enough to see the highlights but not enough to feel done. That's about the best thing we can say about a destination.
You can see the fort, the fudge, and the arch for yourself: watch the full video on YouTube. We also send a short weekly newsletter about where we are and what broke this week. The signup form is on our newsletter page.