09-02-06 @ 7:12 am EDT

All right...HOPEFULLY this should be the last entry, and then my journal can get back to the whiny disability entries everyone seems to like. >_<

When I left off, I'd just finished making my way down the remarkably steep Spring Trail and had reached the east shore AT LAST, like I've been planning to do for YEARS but have always been too tired to do. I wanted to see if I could find any remaining trace of the Fairy Arch.

For those who don't remember back that far in Skew...a few years back or so I somehow heard of a Mackinac Island land formation known as the "Fairy Arch." This was a large arched formation projecting from the East Bluff, somewhat similar to Arch Rock, and I began coming across depictions of it on antique postcards at eBay and such. Fascinated, I decided that it and its nearby landmark, the Giant's Stairway, must have somehow been overgrown by trees and shrubbery because they were obviously no longer visible anywhere--and I even thought I espied the Giant's Stairway from afar when I went walking along the east shore one year, peering up into the trees. (I have yet to see any photos of the Giant's Stairway--a series of giant limestone steps.) I became determined to locate the Fairy Arch and another landmark, Scott's Cave, which was also located somewhere upon the East Bluff although much further north, because I thought it would be fascinating to see what these forgotten landmarks looked like.

Imagine my surprise when I came upon a bigger artist's depiction of the Fairy Arch which showed it as being right on the shore. Little Victorian people pulling up to it in canoes and everything! I tried wrapping my confused brain around that. If the Fairy Arch had been right on the shore...then either this artist had taken some EXTREME liberties, or it must no longer exist. I decided that the Fairy Arch--and perhaps also Scott's Cave--must have collapsed at some time in the distant past because I could find no depictions of the former dating after the early 1910s. (I've only ever seen one photo of Scott's Cave, in a book I bought later on.) This fear was confirmed when I located an online state park report which listed both landmarks as "destroyed." This made me very sad, but such is life; I decided I would still look for the ruins.

Then I got in touch with a lady who collects antique Mackinac Island postcards and she informed me of the truth behind the Fairy Arch and Scott's Cave--they had been destroyed PURPOSEFULLY, most likely to make GRAVEL FOR THE SHORE ROAD! I could not believe it! Unfortunately, although I found this theory also mentioned in a book written by visitors to the island, and a state park book makes brief mention of the Fairy Arch no longer being in existence, I've nowhere been able to find verification that these landmarks were purposefully blown up, nor when, nor why. The lady (who said she'd get back in touch with me but NEVER DID...of course) said she'd spoken with one of the members of the detonation crew which had destroyed the Fairy Arch to make gravel to protect the shore road from erosion, as money had been tight, this being wartime (placing the destruction around the Forties). Supposedly Scott's Cave had been blown up for the same reason. The book where I found the photo of Scott's Cave, however, seems to contradict this somewhat as it's from 1947, I think--AFTER wartime--and includes the Fairy Arch and Scott's Cave on its map, I think (at least one of them, I do know), and makes mention of Scott's Cave--although not the Fairy Arch--as if it still exists. So it seems like Scott's Cave at least existed somewhat longer than the Arch. Weirdly, both landmarks seem to disappear from tour maps around the Thirties or so. And aside from the brief mention in one park publication of the Fairy Arch simply no longer existing, I can find NO state park comments on the matter whatsoever--it's as if they don't want anyone to know the Fairy Arch, Giant's Stairway, and Scott's Cave ever existed.

While I'd understand the state park feeling kind of embarrassed about having blown up some of the island's landmarks to make GRAVEL, especially since everything's got "NO CLIMBING" signs on it now, I still find it bizarre that all there is seems to be vague rumor regarding what specifically happened to these landmarks and when! You'd think SOMEWHERE somebody would have published a definitive statement regarding what really happened. Maybe I just don't have access to the right sources. I do wish I could find pictures of the Giant's Stairway and Scott's Cave--and numerous OTHER landmarks I've since found mention of which either no longer exist or are no longer accessible. There are a LOT of them.

Anyway...I figured that even if the Fairy Arch and Scott's Cave had been blown to smithereens, surely there were traces left. Last year I attempted visiting the location of where Scott's Cave would have been and found a sort of washout on a bluff overlooking Scott's Road (hint--Scott's Road used to be known as "Scott's Cave Road"). I figured that washout area must be where the cave had once stood. So there was that. I kept wanting to visit the east shore and look for signs of a washout or rubble which indicated the former presence of the Fairy Arch but was always too tired to do so. Well, this year I'd finally made it down to the shore, and was ready to go looking.

Well, one of the first things I noticed on reaching the shore was the sound of gurgling water. Although there were tourists wandering back and forth, the sound was distinct, and I paused to listen to it. I love that sound; it's the sound of the East Bluff springs, which I first noticed a few years or so back when I took the shore road along the east side in the evening, when most tourists were on the west side. As luck would have it the noise was coming from a little gush of water pouring out right behind a place to park bicycles! The water was flowing between the front tires of two of them. I took a picture and the present fudgies probably thought I was quite odd, taking a picture of bikes. Dwightwood Spring was right nearby--named for the son of Edwin O. Wood, author of Historic Mackinac, which I found online in the public domain a long while back, to my great and utter joy (where I found out about all those OTHER landmarks!)--but I decided it could wait, because I had to head northward a bit, in the direction of Arch Rock, as that's where Gitchi Manitou is located and I figured I may as well get a shot or two of that. Gitchi Manitou is basically just a big hunk of Arch Rock which long ago fell to the shore and now still rests on the opposite side of the shore road, having somehow ESCAPED DETONATION TO MAKE GRAVEL! *cough* Sorry. I took pictures of that (bet most people there have no clue it has a name, I didn't know for years--I didn't even NOTICE it for years), and of the Sanilac Arch, which is a sort of "mini-arch" located in the twists and turns of Arch Rock itself. I also focused on the rubble along the lakeshore and noticed, to my dismay, that much of it was brecciated in appearance, lending credibility to the idea that East Bluff formations were destroyed to help protect the shore road. -_- How sad and tragic. A plane went over and I tried getting a shot but missed it, so I have a photo just of sky and some silhouetted plants. o_o I had to think to remember what that particular photo was supposed to be of. And as I headed back south I saw some funky flowers that I thought Ma might like to see, so I of course shot those, too.

It had gotten gloomy long before now. I reached Dwightwood Spring and stepped forward to peer into it, the closest look I've had of it in years. There's a hollow in the rock, like a roughly circular bowl, and the water gushes out of a tunnel set higher up; the whole is surrounded by a little structure set up to protect it from the elements and provide a place of rest for passersby, with seats and a roof and all. Hm, it would be very nice here in the rain. The water isn't safe for drinking even though all the Victorian-era guidebooks crow over the curative properties of the island's spring waters, har har. I was thirsty but not THAT thirsty, plus, there were people around. :P But I did want to touch the water so I reached my hand into the natural bowl and gingerly touched the bottom. It's several inches deep. I expected it to be slimy but oddly it wasn't that bad. I put my fingers into the flow of water and watched it spray in different directions, then touched the stone beneath the flow; it wasn't terribly slimy either. I'm surprised it isn't full of pennies. ^_^ I took photos, both with the flash and without, and was surprised by how they came out. Those are the first closeup photos I've ever taken of Dwightwood Spring...I've always just passed right by it, before.

As I walked southward, I kept alternating my attention between the shore and the bluff. I sought a tiny piece of breccia from the shore to take home with me, and I sought signs of where the Fairy Arch once stood. I may as well say that my findings were inconclusive. :/ I did spot a few areas that fit the area of where the Arch would have been, where there were hunks of rock still standing back among the trees, but I honestly can't say with certainty that any of them were the spot. *shrug* If there were any signs of the Fairy Arch left, nature has since reclaimed them.

I finally located a little piece of breccia with a blackish mark on it. I told myself this could have been made by an explosion and decided that that was my sign of the former Fairy Arch. It was the best I could do.

I did see, however, that not only had hunks of limestone been used to fortify the road, but they had also been placed on lawns as decoration--and that really steamed me.

I passed two white parents (?) with a little black girl and the father was swinging her around over the water so her feet splashed in the lake. Unfortunately...these boulders lined the ENTIRE shore, and there was no way I could reach the water without clambering over them...something which I didn't want to do because 1. my legs were killing me, 2. remember Black Lake?, and 3. I'd look like an UTTER MORON crabwalking over boulders. So...no dip in Lake Huron this year, I guess. :(

There were more and more hunks of breccia set in various spots; the tourists must have thought me very odd to be taking closeup photos of hunks of rock. Oh well. THEY wouldn't know or care about the thousands of years and history that went into making this island. I find it fascinating. I came to Robinson's Folly and snapped some shots before moving onward and realizing that I'd been taking pictures just of the lower part of it; the big upper part still stood ahead. ^_^; The zoom shots of that turned out oddly well, unlike most of my other zoom shots. Huh. I came upon a little shoreside trail area which had a sign about the original inhabitants of Mackinac (i. e., Indians), but it turned out this trail didn't lead down to the water either so I left it behind. And I just kept passing more and more hunks of limestone adorning lawns and remaining stuck in the side of the bluff where nature intended them to be. Well, Fairy Arch, you can't say I didn't try. :/

Signs of civilization began to reappear--cultivated flowers, stairways among trees, nicely trimmed lawns. I haven't much to say really about any of this as I don't know much about the manmade parts of the island, but it was all quite pretty, and I took more pictures--a gazebo, green lawns with pretty little walkways, streetlamps, trellis-type archways. I passed the soccer area or whatever it is on the shore, and there was a large gathering of people sitting in chairs while a few guys played with a Hacky Sack and music blared. Some Russian girls in matching outfits--migrant workers?--lounged nearby, chattering and laughing. I didn't linger long and only took one distance shot because it all screamed MON-EY. And I tried to be discreet taking pictures of the various buildings on the right side of the street, because even though the fact that I was a tourist was inescapable, I didn't want to be one of the gawky annoying sort that the islanders detest so much. I always dread that when they see me taking pictures they'll all assume I'm the typical fudgie who comes only to buy some fudge and take a few shots in town and then go home...never knowing that I visit every year, I walk around for hours on end taking pictures of trees and rocks, and I write hundreds of thousands of words about this place. :(

I passed the Mission Church and Ste. Anne's--and got the first and only pictures I've ever gotten of the former. I was right underneath it so all you can see is like the upper part of the steeple or whatever that is. ^_^; I couldn't move further away without disrupting traffic, unfortunately. I passed gorgeous iron gateways and cottages...the East Bluff and east shore put the West Bluff to shame...and this time made sure to snap shots of the names of the places I took photos of, when possible, so I would know what the heck they even are. Most weren't private residences, oddly enough--inns and stuff. I came to a WILDLY colored house with a carousel horse out front and everything--it was so garish it made me want to laugh! I started taking pictures before I noticed it was part of the Inn-On-Mackinac!! I have a picture of the round tower part of this building from a couple of years back or so! I didn't recall the rest of it being so scary looking! ^_^ You'll just have to wait until I finally get those photos uploaded, the paint job on that place is so insane it's unbelievable.

On my left I spotted what looked like a miniature Statue of Liberty. O_o Still have no clue what that was. And, I'm ashamed to admit, the fort cannon spooked me when it fired. >_<

I came to Marquette Park almost without noticing it and almost passed a nondescript building off to my right before noticing that it looked familiar, and halted to take a couple of shots. This was the old Indian Dormitory. I know absolutely nothing about it, and there was no state park sign in sight, so I guess I'll have to look up info on it later whenever I get around to updating my site. :/ All I can say is, like every time I returned from visiting Marquette Park in the past and saw mention of it, I'd be like, "HOW do I keep missing that place??" Well, I finally didn't, so there.

I headed into town now, getting a shot of the Chippewa Hotel for good measure--as well as of the long line of carriages for hire waiting along the side of the road like so many equestrian taxis, their drivers looking incredibly bored--and then visiting the bathroom area again. It was only about five o'clock now, and Ma didn't get out of work until 6:30 (so I thought). Hm. :/ Well, I'd decided that, if it was still open and I had time on returning to town, I might pay the Island Bookstore a visit. I knew this was located under what I previously and erroneously referred to as the Lilac Hotel, which is really called the Lilac Tree Hotel. Sorry about that. I kept my eyes peeled for a building with the color...well, lilac, on it. It at last came into sight and I wandered into the vestibule-area where there's a caricature artist and various other things located. It's like a mini-plaza; there's also a toystore there. The bookstore is right ahead when one enters. I wasn't sure if they'd be open because in Cheboygan bookstores close around five! The sign said it was open until nine I think, though, so I went in and started browsing the local interest and history sections first off to see if they had anything interesting about the island or Michigan Indians. Didn't find anything I didn't already have :P , but I did find a book supposedly about Iroquois dream beliefs...turns out it's some white guy's New Agey stuff, but maybe if I read it with a huge grain of salt I'll learn something about Iroquois beliefs. I then found a book about prehistoric plant and animal life in Michigan, but the price wasn't visible anywhere on it. >_< UGH! I only briefly looked around the rest of the place--Mackinac Island has its own magazine, go figure!--before making my way to the counter, very gradually, where a lady was pricing books or something. I meekly edged up to the counter and waited until she looked up to hand the books over.

"Could you tell me the price please for this one...?" I murmured, indicating the Michigan one.

She took it and ran the scanner over it. "$19.95," she replied, and I nodded quickly and said okay. "You'd still like to buy it?"

"Yes, please," I said, and she rang up my books and thanked me and that was it, I left the store. Why do I get the feeling everyone on the island was like conspiring to get me to have to talk to people that day? >_<;

I went back out onto the sidewalk. The Mennonites from British Landing were on the other side of the street, still atop their tandem bikes and chattering cheerily. It was still quite busy, and obvious islanders or island workers occasionally passed, yelling out things to each other. I was going to head into Marquette Park and find a nice peaceful place to settle down and read from my Lovecraft book (which, yes, I had been carrying around in my pack all day) and eat the other half of my sandwich...but as I neared the info booth and restroom area and saw the benches there, I thought, why walk all that way? There are restrooms here, and a drinking fountain, and seats, and everything I could need for a nice break. So I decided to stay here instead, and hoped that I wouldn't get shooed off for loitering or anything. I selected the second bench down from Market Street and sat down, only to realize that my feet didn't reach the ground; I was like Lily Tomlin sitting in a big chair here. O_o; I pulled out my sandwich and ate it, and then pulled out my book, but I ended up setting it and my new books aside and just...watching life go by. I've long wanted to be able to have some time on the island to just sit and relax...well, I finally got it. My dream had always been to do so in a nice natural place, but after all the bugs and inconveniences of no nearby bathrooms and such, it felt nice to be in civilization for a change! >_< I realized, to my chagrin, that even with as much as I dislike Mackinac's civilized side over its natural side, it does have its uses, especially after spending the entire day on its natural side. There were fewer bugs, too, aside from these odd brownish beelike things that kept buzzing me but otherwise didn't do much.

I just sat here watching the various other people do their various things. Two ladies with little Westie terriers halted to compare dogs and chatter for a while as the dogs strained at their leashes to sniff each other; one of them then barked at a man's whippet or Italian greyhound as it went by. A black woman sat on a bench out front of the post office, reading something. Two Mexican migrant workers rode by on bikes calling out to each other in Spanish. Two old ladies hailed a carriage they'd evidently ridden in earlier to jokingly beg for another ride as they were tired; the driver half amusedly, half apologetically said that she couldn't carry them right now. A man in shades, dressed in black, came walking up toward me, and I was so sure he was a state park employee and was going to shoo me off, but then I noticed the professional-looking camera slung over his arm, and recognized him for just another tourist like me; he passed on his way to Market Street without another glance. A brown beelike thing hovered over my sandwich before buzzing off to the flowers right behind me; another landed on my jacket and I had to shoo it off. An ant wandered around at my feet until it went out of sight. I sat for an hour and a half, just watching all these things, probably the longest I've ever sat doing nothing and actually enjoying it.

Finally the time rolled around, a little after six, to finish up and find the Shepler's Ferry docks. I went to the bathroom once more--ugh, it was hard to walk--and then went back down toward Main Street. I passed the Haunted Theater again, which was now open, and paused briefly to read its signs. I'd already gone by the Arnold dock; I knew Shepler's was between that and Star Line. I kept heading west, but then saw a Star Line boat docked out in the harbor and paused, confused. What, I'd already passed Shepler's--? I hadn't even noticed it! I turned and started doubling back, then stopped again. Well, hold on. What if Shepler's was right beside Star Line? I looked at my map and it said it was so. I would go down to Star Line and see if I couldn't locate Shepler's anywhere nearby. THEN I would head east again.

So once more I turned and headed west. And yes, there Shepler's Ferry was, located right near Star Line--if I'd gone a little further I would have seen their ferries docked right opposite those of Star Line in the first place. Duhr. I crossed the street and went to wait in the line for the Mackinaw City ferry (cue Ma's voice in my head: "Make sure you don't get in line for the St. Ignace ferry!"), and didn't have to wait long before it started moving. I'd noticed only upon entering town again that my ticket had a "void if stub is removed"-type warning on it, and my stub was at least bent, which made me fear that I would accidentally tear it as it was in my pocket; but the ferry worker took it and tore it off without a problem and I went aboard, again scootching into a seat on the right side near the window. I looked at my alarm clock (since I have no watch) and saw that it was 6:29. Holy crap!! I had no idea I was THAT close! :O

Two teen girls sat in front of me, munching snacks even as the captain's voiceover was urging passengers NOT TO EAT, IDIOTS! The one with the window seat kept trying to take pictures through the window, but I didn't even bother, knowing how futile that is. We passed the pier or whatever it is, near the lighthouse, and a little girl, seeing the dark cormorants all lined up along the rocks, exclaimed, "Are those pelicans?" *eyeroll* One of the cormorants appeared on the left and zoomed past in front of the ferry, eliciting an awed "Oooohhhh!" from everyone present as it just missed getting struck; it continued skimming the water far out for a very long time and I watched it until it was nothing more than a dot in the distance. I kept glancing back at the island as it slipped further and further away behind us. Eventually the bridge became bigger and bigger as we neared it, and as we drew in toward the Mackinaw City docks, another passenger spotted the "Please, No Wake!" sign and asked the final question, "What's 'No Wake' mean...?"

To my surprise, Ma was right there waiting for me as I limped my way up the ramp. Turns out she'd gotten out of work at six, not 6:30. Oh well, I'd enjoyed that hour and a half just sitting and watching nothing in particular. She of course wanted to know how it all went, so I told her, and she was quite surprised herself about everything. So was Dad when we finally got home. The cat, he just wanted to sniff my pack and my vest like usual. The hamster didn't even wake up from his coma. And Dad informed me that the resident birds and chipmunks had been quite peeved that I hadn't tossed them a second helping of birdseed that day. Aw, they missed me.