Nice Beaver!

So, I'm back from my nuptial ceremony and honeymoon break....
Yes, my wedding went off without a hitch, and the post-celebration holiday taken by the missus and I was a treat. We took a trip to a remote and exotic land in the WAAAAY northern part of Michigan known as Beaver Island.


Friends, I've simply GOT to tell you about this place. It's one of the most interesting locations I have ever encountered.


First of all, I guess I'll start by telling you of my personal history with Beaver Island. I initially became aware of this place's existence via a road map of my home state of Michigan. See, being a fan of geography, in general, I have the ability to stare at maps for extended periods and notice random locations that strike my fancy for no reason at all. Perhaps I'll spot a town with an appealing name (like, say, Loveland, Colorado); maybe I'll be drawn to a particularly isolated dot on the highway (like Nirvana, Michigan -- interesting story in and of itself, by the way); or occasionally, I'll just lay eyes on a totally random landmass that makes me think, "What's the deal with THAT place?"

Beaver Island falls into that last category. See, I spotted it on the Michigan map, like, nine years ago, and wondered what the situation was. It's a big island just sitting there in the waters of northern Lake Michigan, with no towns denoted or other information to indicate the nature of the land. I remember noticing it for the first time one night at work. I said to my friend, Geoff, "Hey, you ever seen this big island out there, called Beaver Island? I've never heard of it, yet it's part of the state, and it's HUGE. Big arse island right there, man. They should totally be using it for something." It seemed a baffling waste to me that an ISLAND would be anywhere NEAR as empty as the map seemed to suggest. After all, islands are cool. They should always be occupied.

Geoff (and everyone else I asked) knew nothing about the place, either, and I kind of filed the thought away for several years. For whatever reason, I never bothered to follow through on my curiosity and look up the olde Island de Beaver. BUT, a few months ago (2010), my then-fiance and I happened to run into a couple who told us that they vacation on Beaver Island regularly. All of my old curiosity came flooding back to me. "Beaver Island is GREAT," this random couple said, and that was all the information I needed. The lady and I decided to take our honeymoon there, knowing almost nothing about the place. I did some last minute research and learned it did, in fact, have residents (about 500 of them...on an island that's 13 by 6 miles), a small town, and some basic modern accommodations. So, I booked a hotel room, and the new wife and I set about on our journey.

(What Beaver Island might look like.)

You need a ferry to reach the island, which is about 50 miles away from the port of departure, the city of Chrlevoix. Now, this fact in and of itself makes a trip to Beaver Island a true adventure, in every sense. I mean, to get there, one must go WAAAY the heck up there in the northern half of Michigan...AND take a TWO HOUR boat ride. As one travel columnist noted, "No one visits Beaver Island by accident." This ain't the kind of place a chap could simply drive to, check out for a few hours, and then ditch. Nah, you've got to WANT to see Beaver Island; make a commitment to hang around there for at least a day or two...because the ferry only comes so often.

Which means we were in danger even going there.

(Not actual residents.)

Now, look -- I love small towns. Heck, I've lived in a number of them pretty much all of my adult life. But let me tell you, I WAS, admittedly, a bit nervous about being trapped on a totally remote island with no means of escape and a heck of a lot of Traveler's Checks in my wallet. See, from my experience, small town, remote, country folk have a REAL dark side. They secretly hate city people (even though I am not "city people"), and tend to have alcohol problems. Combine that with a high unemployment rate, and BAM -- you've got a recipe for robbery and tourist murders.

So, I was sure to pack my pepper spray, and tell everyone I knew back on the mainland exactly where I was supposed to be. I figured, "If some crazy island rube wants to murderize me, AT LEAST people will know where I was!" Turns out that extra paranoia wasn't necessary.

Yes, the truth is that everyone on Beaver Island turned out to be totally cool. In fact, I would reckon it's one of the safest places in the Midwest.


See, life on Beaver Island is different. The economy there completely depends on tourism, so I guess folks do their best not to turn the visitors off. As I was told by the friendly lady who worked at our hotel, Beaver Island absolutely DIES in the winter months when no tourists come. "Everyone who lives here just saves their money during the summer so they can afford to eat in the winter," she said. Therefore, us sight seers were treated well. In fact, I perused the crime section of the Beaver Island quarterly newspaper, and learned that the community's lone police officer spends much of his time dealing with basic fireworks violations and stray dogs.

The wife and I had a fine, relaxed four days on the island. We did not bring our vehicle across on the ferry, but getting from place to place in the island's town, Saint James, was not a problem. See, the community occupies, like, five percent of the overall landmass, and includes all the basics required of a functional civilization: a grocery store, three or four restaurants, a bank, a post office, a few souvenir shops...the local historical museum (more on that in a minute). Prices, to our surprise, were not much higher than they are back on the mainland. A case of Bud Light might cost 80 cents more than it does back home...a 20-ounce soda is about 30 cents more....Not too bad, really.


Amazingly, we spend our whole visit in and around the little town, never venturing into the wilds of Beaver Island's southern half. Certainly, we hadn't planned it that way -- we figured we'd lounge around town for the first couple of days and then rent an SUV to check out everything else later on. See, the vast majority of Beaver Island is simply forests and hiking trails. There's also a beach hidden in the southern extremity which locals claim will offer the prettiest sunset anyone could find on Lake Michigan. They must have thought the lady and I somewhat strange for not heading out to such attractions. Most visitors, after all, spend their time on the island engaged in various outdoor activities along those lines. We're different, I guess.

Really, there was no need for us to check out the other side of the island, though, because we never got bored in town. Saint James is just interesting enough to keep a couple occupied for three or four days before they might want to go boating (or whatever). When the Missus and I weren't walking somewhere, we were browsing shops or sitting on the lovely little beach right downtown. It actually filled the day fairly well for us...although we did miss out on a couple of things we'd hoped to experience. For her, it was a classical music performance scheduled at the island's community center one night (the place tends to have lots of special festivals, etc. in the summer months); for me, it was the Beaver Island Historical Museum.

Turns out this island has a remarkably interesting history. First settled by Mormons in the mid-1800s, Beaver Island was like a weird cult sanctuary for some years. A guy named James Strang quickly turned it into his own kingdom. Seriously. Here's Wikipedia's account of this fascinating fellow:

"Seeking a buffer from persecution and perhaps more isolation to increase his control of the group, Strang moved his followers to Beaver Island in 1848.

The Strangites flourished under Strang's leadership and became a political power in the region. They founded the town of St. James (named after Strang), and built a road called the "King's Highway" into the island's interior that remains one of its main thoroughfares.

In 1850 Strang proclaimed himself king, but not of the island itself. Rather, he claimed to be king over his church, which at that time contained most of the island's inhabitants. He was crowned on July 8 of that year inside a large log "tabernacle" built by his followers, in an elaborate ceremony that featured a crown...."


But things didn't go so well for King Strang. See, others on the island began to resent his authoritarian style of rule, and he was assassinated:

"...One edict, for instance, dictated the type of clothing Strangite women must wear (see bloomers). Two women refused and Strang had their husbands flogged....

While recovering from their injuries, the husbands began plotting against Strang. On June 16, 1856, the United States naval gunboat USS Michigan pulled into the harbor at St. James and invited Strang aboard. As Strang walked down the dock, the two men shot him from behind and then ran to the ship.

After Strang died from his wounds on July 9, 1856, mobs came from Mackinac Island and nearby St. Helena Island and drove the Strangites (then numbering approximately 2,600 persons) off Beaver Island, confiscating their property...."

A period of lawlessness then ensued until the state of Michigan formally abolished Beaver Island's political autonomy. Eventually, some Irish fisherfolk came to repopulate the place, and their descendants remain there to this day.

(One of our souvenirs.)

That's awesome. See, I've always been drawn to islands because I picture exactly those kinds of things going down on them -- crazy cultists declaring kingdoms and wild battles for political dominance, etc, etc. That's my kind of scene, man. I see an island, and I imagine all sorts of insane possibilities. I mean, islands are totally surrounded by WATER, for goodness sake. Folks can get away with some weird crap on them before any authorities from the mainland notice. I so totally wish I had my own island.

Hmm, perhaps I could take over one of the completely unoccupied, smaller islands located within the Beaver archipelago. Yes, that's right -- there are actually several islands in the vicinity, and NO ONE LIVES ON THEM! I can't believe that. Each empty island is a geyser of exciting possibilities, and no one seems to care. What a waste!

That does it. I'm gonna pack up the spouse, and move to one of the smaller Beaver Islands (maybe Garden Island, which is the site of an ancient Indian burial ground). There, we will establish our own kingdom, complete with military fortifications and elaborate religious rituals. Alone in my island nation, I shall amass great wealth and perfect my scriptures. Then, when I am ready, I shall strike.

Actually, I've been told that the Department of Natural Resources just chases everyone off those other islands. Why, I don't know. Perhaps they're hiding something there. Or maybe, they're just a bunch of stupid jerks. I dunno.

The point, however, is that Beaver Island, Michigan is the coolest place I have ever visited. In all seriousness, I hope to one day return to further explore its mysteries, and recommend it to any traveler interested in remote, bizarre places. Beaver Island is a lovely, lovely destination.


Needless to say, I have been unable to watch many films over the past few weeks, but rest assured, I'll be back in the next couple of days, getting into the regular swing of things, with more obscure movies to discuss. In the meantime, I declare Beaver Island the Place of the Month!

Oh, and it's good to be back.

b.