Ramblings from a Michigander

            Michigan draws its name from the Chippewa work “meicigama” meaning great water. Only fitting as it is considered home to the 5 great lakes and in my opinion, is the true land of lakes, not Minnesota. The cliché goes, “home is where the heart is”, and for me, my heart is and always be in Reading, Michigan.

            Reading, Michigan is a town of 1,034 people. The first week of August, we have our festival days. If I had to describe this to someone, I would tell them, walking into the heart of my town is like stepping into stereotypical Small Town, USA in the 1950’s. The grass is green, freshly mowed, and people are outside saying hello as you pass by. The smell of chicken BBQ and baked beans wafts from the fire station. Main street is closed off with Amish and local artist selling their crafts and baked goods. Peddle tractor pulls down silver street and then the parade starts, marching band and all. Two miles outside of town, you can go to hemlock lake and drop the boat in if the heat gets to ya.

            Stop in to Ray’s Tavern and have their cheeseburger, voted number one in the country by USA today. And of course, look south of town to see Barny Barnhearts iconic red barn. On the subject of local venues,  Kelci, or Kelcho as she was known in high school, had  “coop” nights. Coops nights are the best. Imagine if you will, a 30 foot long chicken coop with a loft, hard wood floors, insulated walls, heater, air conditioner, full working bathroom, couches, and a bar.  This was a frequent for many to go murder their livers. I recall one such crime as the night I drank a good amount, forgetting that I had donated blood the day before.

Home towns always seem to hold a special place in people’s hearts and most everyone agrees that their home towns are the best in the world. Of course, this is only a part of my love for Michigan. Growing up here I had the good, the bad, and the ugly. Unfortunately, my home state catches a lot of back draft as Detroit and Flint are the two worst cities in the United States. Only natural as people only go to Detroit for the airport and Michael Moore, or satin himself, came from Flint.

            But I digress, as the good outweighs the bad. To the north, we have Turkyville, USA. Tiny locomotives you can ride around, and one of the largest craft shows in North America; this place is where we end up year after year regardless of the weather. If not for the crafts, you always stop for their turkey, well, everything! Turkey pot pies, turkey soup, turkey salads! To the west you have South Haven and Grand Haven. It’s like a trip to New England, Michigan style! Fresh water fish and wine bars pollute this area. Straight north of there, Petoskey. Think the Vail, CO of Michigan. Very well to do and voted one of the number one cities in the U.S. to visit by the Smithsonian Magazine.

            Perhaps though to keep from rambling, I will just say that my second favorite place to be is the Upper Peninsula in general. Pastys are the state dish. Mackinac Island of course. This place is like stepping into West Egg from Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby. Very historical, period ware is common along with the best fudge you will ever have the pleasure to touch your taste buds.  Tahquamenon Falls is also “way up north.”  This set of three separate waterfalls drop around 7,000 gallons of iron rich water a second and are beautiful when they freeze over in the winter. But if nature isn’t a person’s thing, no problem! Let your friends go see the falls while you stay at the Tehquamenon Falls Brewery & Pub. Sit right next to the stills and have one of the best moose burgers around, though I am partial to their cod.

            Coming full circle though, we have to return home. Hillsdale County Fair beats all of my food experiences hands down. Then again, who doesn’t enjoy food that is twice and triple deep fried? Elephant ears, candied almonds, onion rings, Fisk French Fries, lemonade, quick break to ride the “The Zipper”, throw everything up, and go for the pretzels with cheese, polish sausages with extra peppers and onions, and a Coca-Cola this time around, before going and watching the tractor pulls and combine demolition derby. Uncouth and unrefined.

            I can’t say I know how to really end this as it will never end for me. And because this more or less awful combobilation of food and travel rants which is chocked full of grammatical errors and simple English language mistakes seems to be serving for nothing more than a way to express my deep love of Michigan, I will leave it as such. Perfect in its imperfection. Perhaps though, this blog will be transformed into a “Pure Michigan” blog, for the express purpose of provoking thought about food, travel, life, and nature.