42 minute read
OUTDOORS
THE GALS BIKE GLACIAL HILLS
by KANDACE CHAPPLE
Extend your summer mountain biking with a trip along this forested Bellaire pathway.
photos by Kandace Chapple
There were seven of us, all members of a loosely organized group named “Singletrack Moms.” Every year, we take a road trip from Traverse City over to Bellaire to ride Glacial Hills Pathway and Natural Area.
And Glacial is memorable—with more than 31.5 miles of bike trails and countless intersections, you’re bound to miss a few turns, lose a few riders off the back and second guess which route to take next. In summary, you either come out of Glacial bonded for life—or enemies. There’s not much in between.
After meeting at the Vandermark Road lot, the first order of business was tackling the map. The trail system is well marked, but daunting in choice. There’s something for every level, but where to go first?
We decided to ride the “outer loop” until we hit post 49, and then hang a left onto the interior trails. Off we went, and within a few miles, our group blew past post 49, piled up in a stop, backtracked, then took off again. And in doing so, promptly lost two members.
This is where mountain biking gets real, people—two women lost in the wilds of Northern Michigan. Finally, a couple of cell phone calls later, we located them, but headed in the opposite direction. We all turned back to ride toward each other, our second backtrack in the white pine and sugar maple forest.
Next, we ended up in “The Wall” area. I think that’s what it’s called. I know I climbed a wall on my bike, regardless of the name. The entire trail system winds and flows, like a superhighway through the woods, up and over the hills with switchbacks and back down again. The trails have been professionally designed to give breaks and carry speed, but this section had a definite march … uphill.
We kept pedaling, to almost 400 feet above the parking area. And just when we saw the end in sight, we hit a few short, punchy climbs. And by punchy, I mean good places to bust a lung or lose your pride. But with one final push, we conquered that section (some on foot, some on bike), and had the reward of sailing down the other side with lots of flow and fast everything. Brakes played into the ride as much as the “granny gear” climbing on our bikes.
We rode for about an hour and a half, clocking 12 miles, and then headed back to the trailhead. But, the verdict was still out: Friends or enemies? There was no way to tell yet, not after that map showdown at post 49.
It would have to be settled at Short’s Brewing Company.
Driving just a couple miles up the road to Bellaire, we snagged a table and ordered lunch. With everyone changed out of their spandex, we began returning to our former selves, with the added bonus of being covered in sand and sweat. And, with each toast and retelling of the day’s adventures, it didn’t take long to decide: Friends.
IF YOU GO
There are three trailheads: S. Eckhardt Road, Vandermark Road and Orchard Hill Road. They’re all within a mile or two of Bellaire. (Tip: Eckhardt Road has a newly added water pump for refilling water bottles.) For maps, visit glacialhillstrails.org. Kandace Chapple is a freelance writer and owns Michigan Girl, a company that hosts outdoor events and trips for women in the Grand Traverse region. mi-girl.com
Nestled among the forested sand dunes of Leelanau County and just out of sight of Lake Michigan lies a space as magical as the landscape that surrounds it. North of Leland and west of M-22, a series of dirt roads weave through the woods, enchanting in any season, leading to a place that altogether stands out among the landscape yet also feels right at home, in rhythm, with the woods that surround it.
Pops of yellow, blue and orange perform a playful beat on the exterior of a modern building that is otherwise cloaked in more natural tones. Marked on the front side by large windows, metal and wooden features, a rich-blue wall and a burnt-orange door, Tusen Takk’s guesthouse and studios offer a chance to exhale for artists from around the world.
Husband-and-wife duo Geoffrey Peckham and Patricia Melzer own Tusen Takk (which means “a thousand thanks” in Norwegian), the name they’ve given to their six acres of land. Today, the property is home to Tusen Takk’s main house, where Peckham and Melzer reside, as well as the guesthouse and studios that, through an artistin-residence program, provide artists time to slow down and reflect in a place that is regenerative by nature.
Peckham and Melzer chose to call Leelanau County home due to these qualities. Roughly 35 years ago, the couple was living in Alpena, Michigan. Often, they would spend their weekends in Leelanau. “After all our travels—after three decades thinking about where we would like to settle—it was this side of the state of Michigan,” Peckham says.
In 2013, once the couple had completed their home here, Peckham and Tom, one of their four children, began brainstorming what else might be possible on the land along Lake Michigan.
Both Peckham and Tom are artists. Peckham is a photographer, and Tom attended Parsons School of Design in New York and is a practicing artist in painting, photography, sculpture and jewelry design.
The family felt a calling to share their space with other people beyond their immediate circle. “It ties in with our belief that God is gracious and has given us this landscape that’s just so incredibly beautiful. To not share it seemed wrong, so here we are,” Peckham says.
Inspiration to create a retreat came in varied forms. The first was an open letter, titled “Toward Culture Care: Why the ArtPrize Helps Artists … and Why It Does Not,” by painter Makoto Fujimura in which he describes how artists need both the time and a place to create. ArtPrize, an independent international art competition in Grand Rapids, Michigan, is renowned for its $500,000 in cash prizes, but money, Fujimura writes, is only part of the equation: “The goal … should be to take care of artists so that they can grow and create better art, toward the flourishing of culture, rather than the bottom line of entrepreneurial economic success.”
Intrigued, Peckham arranged a call with Fujimura. “He
Tusen Takk’s studios are equipped to host visual artists working in photography, painting, printmaking, sculpture and textiles as well as creative writers and composers; Founder and Director Geoffrey Peckham. was gracious enough to talk to me about what he meant and about this idea that Tom and I had of creating an artist studio,” he recalls.
Peckham was also struck by Philip Graham Ryken’s book “Art for God’s Sake,” which makes a case for both the calling of Christian artists as a ministry and for Christians as supporters of the arts. “That answered a longing in my heart for combining my resources and my talents with my desire to serve God,” Peckham says. (The program does not require participating artists to share Christian beliefs.)
Peckham and Tom ultimately decided to build a guesthouse and studios for artists in Leelanau County. Their hopes for the space were that it would be inspiring and functional; meet artists’ needs and serve them well; and that being at Tusen Takk would “help artists on their way.”
“Giving artists a time and a place to create seemed like the right calling for us in terms of giving a sense of worth and value to what it is that they bring to the world,” Peckham says. “That in itself is an incredible gift, so that’s why this whole place is named Tusen Takk. It’s a sense of gratitude.”
It’s this same sense of grace and gratitude that Peckham and Melzer wanted to express to artists, writers and composers for the transcendent truth and intangible joy they give back to the world through their work. The result of that desire is the Tusen Takk Foundation. Its mission: To nourish artists by giving them a place to
work, engagement opportunities to enrich the culture of Northwest Michigan, and a platform through which they can share their work internationally.
Peckham and melzer’s home, Tusen Takk’s main house, was a collaborative creation between the couple and worldfamous architect Peter Bohlin, whom Peckham first met and befriended in 2008. When Peckham and Tom decided to construct Tusen Takk’s guesthouse and studios for an artist-in-residence program, it only made sense that Bohlin was the first (and only) architect Peckham contacted.
“Peter’s architecture is friendly,” Peckham says. “There are obviously hard materials here and hard edges, but it’s soft. Peter is unique in the field of architecture. He’s recognized for designing buildings that people love to be in, see and explore. It is such a privilege to work with someone who has that caliber of friendliness in his character and [who] embeds that character … into places that he makes.”
Artists at Tusen Takk have 24/7 access to a variety of spaces and equipment, including a digital printing studio, darkroom, etching studio, painting studio, finishing studio, loom room and wood shop; Artist Nishiki Sugawara-Beda.
The Peckham family and Bohlin’s goal was to craft a “making place” for Tusen Takk. The space they created is an experience, itself a piece of art with intentionality woven into every element, however seemingly big or small.
The modern aesthetic of the guesthouse is simple yet warm, with the living room and kitchen flowing in one large space full of windows and art. In contrast, the studios are a bit brighter, cooler, more utilitarian. The guesthouse and studios celebrate the creation of human artists as well as that of Mother Nature. This space, which welcomed its first pilot artists-in-residence in 2020, coexists beautifully with the land around it.
The black exterior of the guesthouse and studios draws inspiration from Scandinavian homes, allowing the space to “rest quietly” in the landscape. Two pieces of Corten steel line the garden and woods on the north side of the
house. Their rusty appearance blends with the landscape in a soft, seemingly natural way. Floor-to-ceiling windows throughout the house pull the surrounding landscape into the living room, kitchen, library and bedrooms.
Within Tusen Takk’s various rooms, you are often floating in an infinite space with infinite possibilities. The guesthouse and studios provide a sacred space from which to escape everyday life and draw a breath of fresh air—and artistic inspiration.
But perhaps one of the most important aspects of the environment is the setting on the shore of Lake Michigan, which is within earshot of the guesthouse and studios and a two-minute walk away for the artists in residence.
“It’s this huge body of fresh water that seems infinite in its dimension and that changes every hour of every day,” Peckham says. “It can be incredibly powerful, and the artists get to experience that. I think it gives you this sense of awe and creation.”
The landscape surrounding Tusen Takk has the power to inspire—and, at times, even provides the raw materials for the artists to create.
Nishiki Sugawara-Beda, a Japanese American visual artist based in abstract painting, was Tusen Takk Foundation’s artist-in-residence in July and August 2021. During that time, she experimented in her process of producing sumi ink, the traditional East Asian medium she often works with.
Sugawara-Beda travels to various places to burn organic materials to produce soot that she then uses to form abstract landscape paintings. She says, “Both the act of producing soot and the very materials allow me to be in touch with a specific land, which then allows me to have narratives in my painting.”
She tested several sumi-making processes and techniques at Tusen Takk, using materials from the environment around her. To create the ink, she harvested creosote from Tusen Takk’s chimney and also burned local red pine, white pine and cedar to collect the soot. She then used the ink in her series KuroKuroShiro (“black-black-white”), in which she seeks to capture and interpret the essence of the land around Tusen Takk.
Sugawara-Beda immersed herself in the landscape of Northern Michigan and says her favorite part of Tusen Takk’s property varied depending on the time of day.
“In the morning, in the bedroom, the light comes in through the leaves, so it’s a soft light here and there,” she says. “I brought books from the library to the table [in the bedroom] in the morning, spread them out and read in bed.”
Sugawara-Beda also notes the firepit behind the guesthouse as a favorite space. “That’s where I made my soot,” she says. “And each time I had a meal, I went to that spot.”
“Tusen Takk is definitely a place for solitude, especially three out of four seasons in the year,” Peckham says. “That solitude is something artists don’t get a lot of. There’s something about a solitary residency like this that resonates with people. There’s something to be said for just being in your own head.”
Artists, through their agreement with the foundation, don’t have social obligations during their time at Tusen Takk. They can be as social—sharing meals and conversations with the Peckhams, for example—or non-social as they like.
Tusen Takk’s guesthouse and studios first welcomed four artists—artist, teacher and pioneer in art production Alan Eaker; interdisciplinary artist and educator Johnny Coleman; author and illustrator Brianne Farley; and wood carver, tinkerer and sculptor Dan Webb—in 2020 and early 2021 as part of a pilot program. Since then, Tusen Takk Foundation has welcomed artists, including Sugawara-Beda, from throughout the country and around the world. “There’s something about a solitary residency like this that resonates with people.”
Artist Nishiki Sugawara-Beda selects papers for her next work. “Each paper has unique characters, and I need to listen and feel them,” she says; Sugawara-Beda thinks of herself as a conductor. Each sumi stick is a musical instrument and the brushes are musicians.
Often, these artists have left their own mark on the guesthouse in the form of their art. A favorite is a carved wooden sculpture by Dan Webb, titled “Precarious Yes,” that hangs in the guesthouse just outside the door to the studios.
“Tom had the idea of hanging it here, so that when you come out of the studios, even though you might have failed in there, you come back out and say, ‘Yes, I learned something,’” Peckham says. “We need this affirmative statement, and this was the perfect place.”
If the guesthouse and studios could talk, perhaps they would recount entertaining and humbling stories of the artists who have encountered that “Precarious Yes” every single day among Leelanau County’s ever-changing, lifegiving landscape.
Emily Hopcian is a writer, editor and content producer with a focus on character-driven stories of outdoor adventure and social and environmental impact. emilyhopcian.com Tim Hussey is the art director of Traverse, Northern Michigan’s Magazine. He is also a fine artist and photographer who enjoys shooting stories that speak to him. husseyart.com
Left: Andrew Doud Above: Andrew and his son Louie unload a dray, sending items through “the shoot” that leads to the basement.
Mackinac Island is more than a home for those who live and work here. It’s a taproot. Beyond the smooth stone beaches, Lake Huron waters and trails weaving switchbacks through thin- soiled forests of red oak, hemlock and pine, there is a powerful connection to history that tethers hearts. It’s why so many islanders share a last name (and often even occupation) with ancestors who roamed the same hills and horse trails more than a century ago.
This is true for Andrew Doud, fourth generation owner of Doud’s Market, the country’s oldest family-operated grocery store and a now-thriving center of island life all year round. Like all the best spots on Mackinac Island, Doud’s mixes nostalgia with modern convenience. The independent grocery store still carries a Norman Rockwell sensibility: tightly packed shelves of staples and treats, baskets filled with green and red apples, oranges, ginger root. There are historical
“… IF I’M BEING HONEST, I THINK I ORIGINALLY STEPPED IN IN PART BECAUSE I WANTED TO PROVE I COULD MAKE IT WORK.” – ANDREW DOUD
photos depicting more than 140 years of business, alongside smart merchandising that rivals any big city small market. It’s a place islanders lean on, tourists stock up for picnics in and the fifth generation of young Doud boys bop in and out of during summer adventures.
In short, it’s the framework for one family’s story. One carved out by generations of stick-to-itiveness and ingenuity. One that includes literal and figurative returns from piles of ashes. One that looks to the past and future with equal measures of respect and hope.
Doud, who is now in his late 40s, was just 33 years old when he stepped in to save the family business. Sure, he was skilled in restaurant management when the moment of reckoning came, but Doud had limited—if any—experience in the store his father, grandfather and great-grandfather had run. His childhood home was in the Detroit area, and while Doud spent summers (and middle school years) with his father on the island, he never once worked for the family store.
“I worked a lot of other jobs on Mackinac, but Doud’s was never my thing. And as I got older, the idea of being part of the business didn’t really seem like an option. I always knew I wanted to be here in some capacity as an adult, but when I came back in 2006, it was to run the Grand Hotel’s Gatehouse Restaurant. I never would have believed a year later, I’d be stepping in at the market,” he says.
In a place where history mixes with the present every day, however, the pull of legacies and quiet whispers of generations past often make the impossible possible. This was true for Doud, who watched on the sideline as his family’s business hit hard times and was sold in 2007 to an outside buyer.
Shortly after the sale, the opportunity presented itself for Doud to lease back the store with the option to buy it. Torn by the decision, he sought advice from the McDonough family, owners of an independent grocery store on another Great Lake landmark, Beaver Island.
“When Bill McDonough asked if I’d be interested in taking over Doud’s, my first answer was ‘no way,’” Doud says. “I really thought I meant it, too.”
Nevertheless, something in Doud shifted after that visit—maybe it was a love for the oddity of island life, a sense of responsibility or a stir of stubborn pride.
Before long, he was renting the building and business back, slowly building trust and learning the ropes of an independent grocer. By 2008, just a year into his lease, Doud says he was ready to say forever in more ways than one. He’d fallen in love (his now wife, Nicole, is an entrepreneur in her own right, opening the island’s first boutique gift shop, Little Luxuries, that same year). He also discovered a connection to the family business he never expected.
“It was challenging for me to see Doud’s struggle after my
Clockwise: Stocking the store after an early-morning freight delivery; Louie, Thomas and Johnny Doud; The prepared food menu changes daily at Doud’s; Nicole Doud and Bella Caswell unpack products sent from the mainland; cashier Christine James.
From left: Patrick Doud driving a delivery wagon; Francis Doud unloading ice from a dray; James Doud.
dad passed away in 2002, but if I’m being honest, I think I originally stepped in in part because I wanted to prove I could make it work. Once I took over, I could really see the important role Doud’s plays for the island, and also, I experienced this tremendous community support. I was committed.”
Committed seems like too light a word. The price tag for the market, with 2008-level property values, was a cool $3 million. For a 33 year old with less than a year of leased grocery store experience—when said store happens to be on a car-less island with the unfortunate distinction of having some of the most expensive product transport costs in the country to cut into already thin margins—this was, perhaps, an insane risk. Risk, however, has never been a trait the Doud family resisted, which is why their name is one of the most well-known on the island. Doud’s Market, called Doud Brothers and Doud’s Mercantile over the decades, first opened its doors in 1884, when brothers James and Patrick built a store located on top of what is now the Star Line ferry dock. At the time, the military importance of Fort Mackinac was waning and interest in visiting or vacationing on the island was growing.
The sons of Irish immigrants, the Doud brothers were looking to make their mark, and the island seemed the place to make it happen. It wasn’t long before Patrick stepped away from groceries to become one of the island’s most successful contractors. While Patrick never married, he left his mark on the island in cottages and hotels that
IN A PLACE WHERE HISTORY MIXES WITH THE PRESENT EVERY DAY, THE QUIET WHISPERS OF GENERATIONS PAST OFTEN MAKE THE IMPOSSIBLE POSSIBLE.
still share his story today.
His brother James, however, passed down his legacy through 11 children (10 boys and one girl), many of whom stayed connected to Mackinac. James stuck with market life and passed the store on to one of his youngest sons, Francis, who was known for bringing fresh dairy and meat to folks on the island, even when it meant crossing the ice bridge that stretches across the Straits of Mackinac via horse and carriage during long winters.
The store’s story almost ended in 1943, when the original Doud’s building burned to the ground. Francis opted to turn the challenge into an opportunity, rebuilding on the high-traffic corner of Fort and Main streets, where Doud’s Market still stands today.
“He originally rented half the building and used nails from the burned down store to build the new shelves. He was resourceful,” Doud says of his grandfather, a hint of pride and understanding in his voice.
Andrew’s father, Stephen, took over the store in 1976. He soon purchased the mercantile building, added a full butcher’s counter, and continued to find ways to keep the independent grocery store relevant until his death in 2002.
While the earlier Doud grocers had plenty of difficulties
to work through in their century-plus of stewarding the business, the competition of internet sales and big box stores suddenly populating the mainland may be the biggest challenge yet. Andrew stepped in at a time when independent grocery stores around the country were closing, unable to price match or keep up with the options of a 200,000-foot store.
“I will never forget the advice Bill McDonough gave to me when I first started out. He said, ‘You have to be a great store first.’ And that’s so true at every level. I’m never going to force someone to come into my store and buy their bread or their can of soup, which they could probably purchase online cheaper. So, from day one, we’ve tried to be the store the people of Mackinac need, and I can’t say enough about how grateful I am that, in turn, the support has been overwhelming.”
Even that sentiment is more complicated than it sounds. Mackinac Island boasts just 500 people in its year-round population, but swells each summer to 5,000, with an additional 10,000 to 12,000 tourists visiting each day. (Mackinac was recently named the best island in the continental U.S. by Travel + Leisure magazine.)
“It’s always a challenge,” Doud admits. “You have to find a way to feed everybody, with limited space and a massively fluctuating population with very different needs and wants in terms of what we carry. In the summer, the cottagers are looking to find the higher-end items they are used to in big grocery stores, and at the same time, there are staffers who just want ramen noodles.”
In the summer, Mackinac is also a magnet for international workers, and Doud says he is mindful to try and stock familiar food staples.
“It’s a little thing to some people, but finding a warehouse in Chicago that can bring in foods that feel like home for some of these folks matters to us. I grew up with a lot of the seasonal staff on Mackinac, and many are friends. When I think about the people I am trying to serve, I really am thinking of everyone who calls this island home, whether all year, for a few months, or even just those who come in for the day.”
While the summer months are a flurry of activity—the staff expands from 10 to 35 to meet customer volume— winter is the creator of worry lines for Doud. Like most resort and tourism-based destinations in the area, much of Mackinac shuts down during the cold weather season, and having to “right size” for the islanders is always a bit of a guessing game. Stocking the shelves in the winter also remains as harrowing an experience as it was more than a century ago. Doud uses a snowmobile instead of a horsedrawn carriage to cross the ice bridge for supplies, but says the real challenge is during those in-between weeks, when the ice has melted but the boats aren’t running yet.
“Last winter was one of the most challenging I’ve faced, because the ice bridge melted weeks before we expected it to. There is no feasible, cost-effective way to transport grocery stock by plane, and so we watch the shelves get more and more bare, and just hope we can get through until the boats start running,” Doud says.
When conversation turns to a possible fifth generation of Douds serving as Mackinac’s grocers, Andrew is clear: He would love to see it happen … but first, his boys have to learn and grow away from the grocery store.
“In the next 20 years, I hope they go out and explore, get some degrees, have good and bad bosses. I hope they go out into the world, and then, if they want to, come back here and their experiences will bring something new to the table.”
Kate Bassett is news director at the Harbor Light newspaper. Her novel, “Words and Their Meanings,” is available in bookstores and on the web. kate@ncpublish.com Jacqueline Southby is a photographer and videographer based in Traverse City. She is an accomplished creative thinker with a keen eye for detail, a strong technical ability and a boundless enthusiasm for life, love, photography, video, design and animation.
4 MUST-VISIT GENERATIONAL BUSINESSES
While stores and eateries come and go in many communities, Northern Michigan still boasts a multigenerational local economy. Here are a few mainland must-visits en route to Mackinac Island:
PETOSKEY: Grandpa Shorter’s has been in downtown Petoskey for 76 years this summer, and still sells some of the same Up North must-have souvenirs, like polished Petoskey stones, that it did when Carl Shorter opened it in 1946. Now run by his granddaughter, Jennifer Shorter, this downtown staple is known for its friendly staff and fun gifts.
HARBOR SPRINGS: Gurney’s Bottle Shop, home of the (quite literally) famous Gurney’s deli sandwiches, celebrates 50 years in 2022. The first and second generation of Gurneys can be found behind the counter of this landmark Main Street grab-and-go lunch spot. A few pro tips for Gurney’s newbies: the phone goes off the hook at noon because the line snakes out the door; they don’t do credit cards or tomatoes; and adding deli sauce is always a great idea.
ALANSON: W.W. Fairbairn & Sons Hardware has 127 years of street cred as the go-to for, well, just about anything needed in the life and home maintenance department. Started during the height of the lumber boom, the fourth and fifth generation of Fairbairns now steward this hub of community. They have all the American-made hardware store essentials and the added amenities of everything from Yeti to Weber grills.
MACKINAW CITY: The Murdick family is a big part of why the words “fudge” and “Mackinaw” go hand-in-hand. Aaron Murdick is the fifth generation of candymakers who keep that signature sweet smell wafting through town. With more than 130 years of experience, Aaron and his father, John, still use the same recipe with which Murdick’s Famous Fudge was founded—because there’s no reason to mess with fudge perfection.
a familiar feast
Just south of Pellston on US-31, the early
evening light that drenches silver aspen bark and roadside wildflowers is interrupted by an enormous orange arrow advertising “Dam Site Inn, Gracious Dining & Cocktails, One Block.” Our tires crunch into the nearly full gravel lot where we park beside a vintage blue Mercedes convertible piloted by silverhaired resorters dressed, like movie set extras, in gingham and linen for their Saturday dinner. The kitchen’s screen door swings open and leaks the echo of owner/expediter Steven Brinks calling to the line “four chicken, two perch, one whitefish” as rooftop exhaust fans above him broadcast an irresistible waft of the Dam Site’s signature fried chicken. We hustle toward the host stand and kick off this ritual of time-warp dining.
Navigating the wood-paneled vestibule inside the Dam Site Inn’s doorway is a lovable paradox of empty wine bottle–lined shelves and strategically placed ceramic kitsch. I linger over the labels of
rare Burgundies and faded Champagnes, daydreaming about the bygone buzzes of those summer vacation feasts.
Entering the bustling restaurant with its vintage supper club vibe, however, requires a quick iPhone calendar check to confirm that it’s still indeed the 21st century. Directly right is a swank oval bar surrounded by polished wood paneling and circled with white mod high-back stools, gold starbursts and the palpable sense that Sean Connery-era James Bond could show up any second and order a vodka martini from bartender Shane Stahl, who’s been mixing drinks at Dam Site Inn for 40-plus years. Step left and this same retro aesthetic pervades the dining room where meticulously preserved 1950s Naugahyde upholstery lines the walls.
Serendipitously, we’ve timed our arrival as four small parties are happily tapping out after two rounds of all-you-caneat fried chicken, and owner Olivia Brinks shows us to a window-side table draped with crisp linen and set with polished silverware and classic etched glassware. The Dam Site Inn feels like a living mu- Previous spread: seum of 1950s style, includ- Reservations are a must on ing the best traditions of classic hospitality. We watch busy summer nights; Olivia and Steven Brinks—the next generation running Dam Site as Olivia’s father, Ray East, a Inn. This spread: (Left) Each former auto mechanic who decorative piece tells a story— took the Dam Site reins from from vintage clocks and light his parents in the early ’90s, greets a dozen arriving guests fixtures, to the sign greeting you at the door. (Right) The menu mainstay: all-you-canby first name while Liza, our eat fried chicken, served with vigilant server, quickly lands handmade buttered noodles, freshly mixed drinks. Family and hospitality are mashed potatoes, buttermilk biscuits, green peas and golden chicken gravy; A lounge fit for the foundational pillars of a night out with friends, and this iconic Northern eatery a martini or two. that launched its 69th season last spring. “I grew up in this place,” says Olivia with a proud smile as her youngest daughter, Holly, who’s 5, peeks around the corner at us. “I was packing cracker baskets at her age and already planning to take over by the time I was seven. We have generational employees as well. Jill, our fry cook, watched me when I was little and took me to my first concerts before taking over when her mom, Ladonna, retired 14 years ago.”
Olivia’s parents, grandparents and employees have also stitched themselves into the memories and traditions of generations of locals and summer residents who frequent the Dam Site throughout its six-month season from April to October. “We pride ourselves on taking care of our customers and a lot of them have their own traditions when they dine with us every summer,” Steven tells me. This customized service sometimes carries kitchen codenames like “Thigh Guy,” a habitual chicken devotee who gets extra thighs with his meal, and “Shrimp Guy,” who always orders chicken and takes exactly 15 fried shrimp to go, every time. Perennial eccentricities extend to the tableware, such as the 12-piece cache of special salad bowls from a 1970s wedding
The Dam Site Inn feels like a living museum of fifties’ style, including the best traditions of classic hospitality.
reception that has been used exclusively for the same family of regulars ever since.
We lean into the old-school appetizer offerings with a tiered relish tray garnished with stuffed olives and pickled vegetable salads, chilled jumbo shrimp with housemade cocktail sauce and deep-fried frog legs, followed by salads with proprietary Roquefort
dressing and the signature wicker cracker basket. These classics are executed with fresh, high-quality ingredients, an important aspect of the Dam Site’s kitchen dogma. “We always try to source the best ingredients we can get,” Steven says. “Some restaurants have chosen to make sacrifices with the spike in food costs during the pandemic but we’ve stood by quality, and our customers have appreciated that.”
Following 2019, the restaurant’s most successful year on record, skyrocketing food costs (up to 40 percent higher) are not the only curveball that the Covid-19 pandemic has thrown at Olivia and Steven. Like restaurants all around the North that rely on summer tourism for the bulk of their revenue, Dam Site Inn’s limits have been tested by mandated closures, restrictions and dire staffing shortages. The lifting of capacity restrictions last summer allowed the restaurant to once again fill their seats, but the normal seasonal staff of 45 was reduced to 27, and the dining room ran the week of July 4th with only five servers instead of the usual fourteen. “We just want to hug the staff who have stayed with us,” Olivia says, her eyes watering, “but the customers have been so grateful and patient that it keeps us all going, even if we’re running triple time.” The Dam Site’s operations are the product of routines perfected through decades of practice, and the short-handed
Bottom, middle: Former owner Ray East, Olivia’s father, enjoys the calm before the restaurant opens for dinner. Far right, top: Four generations—Olivia’s daughter (front, right side) says she plans on taking over for her mom and dad when she grows up.
staff is hardly noticeable in the flow of service as we watch a parade of platters and overfilled bowls head for our table with the evening’s dining focus: All-you-can-eat fried chicken. The chicken with handmade buttered noodles, mashed potatoes, buttermilk biscuits, green peas and golden chicken gravy has been the menu mainstay of this country eatery for almost seven decades. While many restaurants have pivoted to broasting pre-cut birds, the Dam Site still skillet fries theirs the old-fashioned way, with undeniably better results.
Fifty thousand pounds—that’s 30- to 65-pound cases each week—of fresh whole chickens roll through the kitchen doors within two days of slaughter, where Steven and team hand cut and sort them, saving the livers and gizzard for the Inn’s most popular appetizers. The pieces are individually seasoned, floured and pan fried for 23 minutes at 325 degrees in two enormous electric skillets divided in half with custom-welded twoinch sides, each of which exactly fits 10 breasts, legs, thighs and wings. When those 23 minutes expire, what leaves the skillets are tender, golden-brown pieces that are moist inside, crispy outside and delicious enough that, like me, you’ll be inspired to test the limit of all that you can, in fact, eat. (The resident record goes to a long ago Pellston High School football player who started what was either a very short or very long prom night with 33 pieces of the Dam Site’s finest—approximately four whole chickens—only, legend has it, to discover he had forgotten his wallet.)
Similarly, no shortcuts are taken with the side dishes as Steven begins every day making enormous batches of noodles and buttermilk biscuits entirely from scratch. Weighing his dry ingredients on an antique sliding kitchen scale,
Steven mixes his doughs in a huge commercial stand mixer, rolls them to spec and then punches biscuits and cuts noodles by hand. The mashed potatoes are smooth and gratuitously buttered, the green peas never mushy. Between shifts, the kitchen is made spotless. “We believe one of the best ways to make consistently delicious food is in a clean kitchen,” Steven says.
Well into our second platter of chicken, I’m starting to contemplate surrender, but I persevere, buoyed by a bottle of Brys Estate dry riesling, whose bright acidity provides the satisfying contrast to the richness of the meal. Pouring the last glass, my eyes dart around the dining room to try to locate the door to the cellar where, beside an expensive wine cooler that one infrequent regular installed to keep his private stash at perfect temperature, sit bins 65 and 66, which house what Olivia and Steven refer to as “The Rothschilds”—one surviving bottle each from original cases of 1959 Chateau Mouton Rothschild and Chateau Lafite Rothschild, two of the world’s most collectible wines from one of the greatest vintages of the last century and a $3,400 supplement to your $27.95 chicken dinner. I like to think these bottles, like the restaurant itself, are time capsules, perfectly preserved relics that are just as delicious today as they were 50 years ago.
As the plates are cleared away and the few surviving pieces of chicken delivered in a paper takeout bag printed
-Steven Brinks
to look like old newsprint, it is bittersweet to leave the warm glow of the dining room for the night air. The East/ Brinks family’s dedication to preserving a perennial tradition of warm hospitality and honest food lets us live, if only for a few hours, inside an idealized postcard of Northern Michigan summer—one where we can enjoy gracious dining, cocktails and endless platters of panfried chicken.
Tim Tebeau, a wine importer and longtime writer for Traverse, lives with his family in Petoskey, where he works remotely as sales director for Eagle Eye Brands. Jacqueline Southby is a photographer and videographer based in Traverse City.
photo courtesy of Elk Rapids Golf Club
Ahistorical marker at the entrance of the Elk Rapids Golf Club is your first clue that this golf club is indeed an important treasure. About 25 minutes north of Traverse City, the club sits on the shores of the turquoise waters of Elk Lake. Golf lovers delight in playing a course designed by the renowned golf architect Donald Ross, who also designed venerable Oakland Hills in Bloomfield Hills, Michigan, as well as North Carolina’s Pinehurst #2.
This neatly puts it in the category of “vintage”—it’s been around since 1924 and is still going strong. The nine-hole gem checks all the boxes: beautiful, fun, challenging, yet playable and beloved by local golfers. That sentiment is reflected in many of the 250 memberships that have been lovingly handed down through generations, with a waiting list of about 80 hoping to join the semi-private club.
It’s a course with an unlikely backstory, according to ERGC member and club historian Brian Taylor. As the logging and iron works industries waned in the early 1900s, the people of Elk Rapids were desperate to breathe new life into their little bayside town. Some citizens with foresight thought a golf course would be just the thing to help the bourgeoning tourism industry, and in 1922, they voted to pass a bond to build a course. (Fun fact: the golf course is the oldest continuing business in Elk Rapids.)
With the bond passed, Elk Rapidians immediately set out to hire a golf course architect, and among their contenders was the ambitious choice of Donald Ross. The 1920s were Ross’ heyday for course design. “It’s a bit of a mystery,” Taylor admits. “How did we get him to design the course when there were about 10 courses [in line] ahead of us?” He’s mystified by this, but his theory is that somebody in the Elk Rapids Resort & Industrial Association back in the day had some important connections with Chicago business people.
The president of the Donald Ross Society confirmed Taylor’s hunch—with some influential networking, Ross was hired in 1923 to design the course, and the Elk Rapids Golf Club course opened on July 17, 1924. The grand event made front page news in the Grand Rapids Press.
The question remains if Ross actually came to Elk Rapids to design the course or worked from afar. He was a busy man, designing approximately 400 courses during his career, and it seemed like Elk Rapids was low on the totem pole. What is known is Ross dispatched his top associate, J.B McGovern, to Elk Rapids, and it was McGovern who chose the actual site for the golf course. He liked the site because it wasn’t a rectangle—it was more of an oblique triangle. Donald Ross then designed the course from topographical maps. Taylor
“It’s classic old-style and tight. Golf back then was a very social event, often with shared tees.” – GENE DAVIS
says that the property was originally a farm, but it was treeless, with about 3,000 feet of lake frontage. This appealed to Donald Ross’ vision for a links-style golf course. Ross took the land he was presented and built a golf course on it. The land was cleared using a team of horses with a drag bar, and men using rakes and shovels.
To save money, members used the old farmhouse behind the 8th green for a clubhouse. Over the years, the only two big alterations were moving the 6th green due to errant balls barraging the parking lot, and the 8th green, which was moved in the ’80s when the Village of Elk Rapids widened Ames Street.
Taylor says an example of a classic Ross hole is number 7: a 290-yard par 4. Ross liked short, uphill par 4s and bunkers
Opposite: (clockwise from top left) Players putting on the old 8th green in the early 1960s; Members of the community mingle in front of the clubhouse in the late 1920s. The founders wanted ERGC to serve as a community park and local gathering place. Golf, horseshoes and picnic grounds were available for the enjoyment of the villagers; Players with their caddies prepare to tee off on what was then the 2nd hole. There was a large fruit orchard that stood adjacent to the course in those days. This is now the 9th tee box; Players tee off on what is now hole #1. Above: A flag marks the #2 green, with Elk Lake in the background. inside doglegs, as well as tee boxes and greens that are close together. He also points to features that make ERGC a classic Ross design: The greens are an inverted saucer-style. And the bunkers? “Ross didn’t want to intimidate the lower-level player, but he wanted to make it challenging for the better player,” Taylor says. Superintendent and general manager of the club, Gene Davis, agrees. “It’s classic old-style and tight,” Davis explains. “Golf back then was a very social event, often with shared tees. It’s much quieter now!” And there’s not much room for error—there are only 60 yards between holes for errant shots.
Although a timeless course, ERGC had bunker renovations completed in 2018 by golf architect Bruce Hepner. Improvements were made to give golfers a better
lie—pure Donald Ross. The intention was not to make it harder for the average golfer. They gave Hepner the original Ross design to work from. “Rerouting was not an option,” Taylor says. More fescue grass was added to indicate to the golfer the direction in which the hole should be played. Like Ross, Hepner is a purist who believes golfers should adapt to the course.
As its 100th anniversary approaches, the course is in loving and highly capable hands. Davis grew up playing the course and was on the Elk Rapids High School golf team. He has a degree in turf management from Michigan State University and seemed destined for the job.
Davis says there are always challenges maintaining a course that is open from April 15 to October 15, in particular the weather. Fortunately, the course is on sandy soil close to the lake, and drains well. “We can have a heavy rain, and in three hours, it’s OK to play on,” he says. Davis is also focused on an ongoing tree management plan, featuring trees that are indigenous to Michigan to provide structure and contours, yet pay homage to the course design.
It’s a club—and a culture—that seems likely to exist for another 100 years. “There’s an ambiance that is hard to explain,” Davis says. “Ross fans like it, and even people who are clueless about Donald Ross like it. The vibe keeps bringing people back.”
Kathy Belden is a freelance writer based in Arizona. She spends her summers on the shores of Grand Traverse Bay. Allison Jarrell is the managing editor of Traverse, Northern Michigan’s Magazine. allison@mynorth.com
This spread: (clockwise from top left) Players putt on the #5 green—a devilish par 3; Another view of the #5 green, looking northeast; The 6th tee box, also looking northeast.
The North’s Historic Courses
These three gems should be on every golfer’s bucket list.
BELVEDERE GOLF CLUB Charlevoix Opened in 1927, this gorgeous club is just minutes from downtown. Designed by famed Scottish golf architect William Watson, the course has been a favorite of many legends in the golf world. At 6,906 yards, the course isn’t long by today’s standards, but the greens are dynamic with subtle undulation, ridges and slopes that fall off to chipping areas.
5731 MARION CENTER RD., CHARLEVOIX // 231.547.2611 // BELVEDEREGOLFCLUB.COM
WAWASHKAMO GOLF CLUB Mackinac Island Established in 1898, this club has the distinction of being one of the very few American courses laid out in a links style that remains substantially unaltered. History buffs will find much to love here: on Wawashkamo’s 1st tee, you’ll stand on the spot where British Cannons roared on Aug. 4, 1814.
1 BRITISH LANDING RD., MACKINAC ISLAND // 906.847.3871 // WAWASHKAMO.COM
THE JEWEL Mackinac Island Two nine-hole courses comprise The Jewel—owned by Grand Hotel. The “Grand Nine” boasts views of the Straits of Mackinac. Located across from the iconic hotel, the Grand Nine was built in 1901, and was redesigned in 1987 by golf course architect Jerry Matthews. Though not vintage, a back nine was added in 1994, also designed by Matthews. Referred to as “The Woods,” the back nine-hole course is tucked into the interior of the island with stunning views of the Mackinac Bridge and the U.P. Fun fact: the two nines are separated by a mile-and-a-half 15-minute horse-drawn carriage ride.
1 GRAND AVE., MACKINAC ISLAND // 906.847.9218 // GRANDHOTEL.COM
