Michigan: Mackinac Island
🏝️ Mackinac Island — Where the 20th Century Never Really Showed Up
Right, so first things first — it’s not pronounced how it looks. Nothing in this part of the world ever is. It’s MAK-IN-AW, and if you say it wrong, the locals will smile politely in that particular way that means they think you’re an idiot. I speak from experience.
Mackinac Island sits in Lake Huron — and when I say lake, please don’t picture something you’d find in the Lake District. This is one of the Great Lakes, a body of water so vast it behaves more like an inland sea and has the weather to prove it. The island itself covers about 3.8 square miles and occupies a rather strategic spot at the eastern end of the Straits of Mackinac, squeezed neatly between Michigan’s Upper and Lower Peninsulas, which are two chunks of land that, for reasons best known to themselves, decided not to join up properly.
Long before any Europeans turned up with their flags and their opinions, the island was home to the Anishinaabe people — specifically the Odawa and Ojibwe nations — who called it Michilimackinac, meaning something along the lines of “great turtle” on account of its shape when viewed from the water. Sensible enough. They’d been there for centuries, thank you very much, doing perfectly fine without anyone else’s help.
That all began to change in the 17th century when French explorers and Jesuit missionaries arrived, as they tended to do, and decided the place had potential. By the 1670s, missionaries had established a presence on the island, and it quickly became a key hub in the fur trade that was driving the entire economy of the Great Lakes region. Beaver pelts, in particular, were absurdly fashionable in Europe at the time — everyone wanted a beaver hat — and Mackinac sat right at the crossroads of the trading routes. It was, in effect, the M25 junction of the 18th-century fur business, except presumably less congested and with better scenery.
The British got involved, as the British tended to get involved in things, and during the American Revolutionary War they constructed Fort Mackinac high on the limestone bluffs overlooking the harbour in 1780. It was a serious piece of military engineering, designed to hold the strategic straits and control the flow of trade. Which it did, until the Americans eventually got hold of it under the terms of Jay’s Treaty in 1796. Then the War of 1812 came along and muddied everything again. The island saw two actual battles — the British captured it from the Americans in 1812 in a rather audacious surprise attack, and the Americans tried and failed to take it back in 1814. The British held on until the war ended and the whole thing was handed back diplomatically. Fort Mackinac today is one of the best-preserved 18th-century military fortifications in the United States, which is either a testament to careful restoration or proof that Americans are quite sentimental about forts. Probably both.
By the late 19th century, the fur trade had largely collapsed and the island reinvented itself with admirable practicality as a summer resort. Wealthy families from Chicago, Detroit, and Cincinnati began arriving by steamer in considerable numbers, drawn by the cooler air and the considerable distance from wherever they normally had to be. Grand hotels and Victorian cottages began to appear all along the bluffs and shoreline throughout the 1880s and 1890s. The most famous of these is the Grand Hotel, opened in 1887, which boasts the longest porch in the world at 660 feet — yes, someone measured it — and the sort of imposing white-columned facade that makes you feel underdressed just looking at it from the water. It’s the kind of place where you half expect someone in a cravat to offer you a croquet mallet.
The entire island is now a National Historic Landmark, and more than 80 percent of it is preserved as Mackinac Island State Park, which means most of the island is essentially left alone to be itself — limestone cliffs, cedar forests, and some genuinely spectacular views across the straits. The remaining inhabited portion features an architectural range that is quite striking: Federal, Greek Revival, Italianate, and Queen Anne Victorian buildings sit alongside each other in a way that would make a planning officer weep with either joy or confusion, depending on the planning officer.
And then there’s the thing that Mackinac is perhaps most famous for — no cars. The island banned motorised vehicles back in 1898, making it one of the earliest places in North America to do so, and remarkably, it has stuck to that decision ever since. No cars, no motorbikes, no lorries. Nothing with an engine, essentially. The island gets around by horse-drawn carriage, bicycle, or on foot, and that’s that. Around 600 horses are stabled on the island during the summer season, along with what must be a heroic quantity of horse-related infrastructure. We found this absolutely delightful, though I’ll be honest — walking up some of those hills in summer heat is less charming in practice than it sounds in principle.
The ferry crossing from Mackinaw City or St Ignace on the mainland takes only about 20 minutes, which is just long enough to eat a disappointing snack and locate your camera. We arrived in summer, which is peak season, and the ferries were absolutely packed — tourists, day-trippers, families with an impressive amount of luggage for a small island, and at least three people who appeared to be travelling with a bicycle as their primary companion in life. As we pulled into the harbour, the scene that greeted us was genuinely like stepping through a door into another century. Porters in period dress were loading bags directly from the boat onto horse-drawn wagons with practiced efficiency, the clop of hooves on the cobbled dock area providing a sound design that no theme park could improve upon. It was, we had to admit, rather wonderful.
Horse, bicycle, or shanks’ pony. That’s your lot. Fantastic.
Right, so the town itself — and I use that term loosely, because this is really more of a very handsome village that got ideas above its station in the 1880s — has been restored to within an inch of its Victorian life. Every clapboard facade, every gabled roofline, every improbably ornate verandah has been painted, repaired, and generally fussed over until the whole place looks like someone decided to build a film set and then forgot to tell the residents they were supposed to leave. It is, to use a technical architectural term, absolutely absurdly quaint. The kind of quaint that makes you reach for your camera every thirty seconds and feel slightly ridiculous doing it.
The summer sun was doing its considerable best to make everything look even more implausibly lovely, throwing long warm light across the painted timber fronts and the hanging flower baskets in a way that felt frankly unfair to everywhere else we’d ever been. Michigan in July, it turns out, can be genuinely beautiful when it puts its mind to it, which comes as something of a surprise if your only frame of reference is a November motorway services.
What makes it all slightly surreal, though, is that people actually live here. Proper residents, going about their actual lives, in what is simultaneously a functioning community and a designated National Historic Landmark. Some of the houses have been handed over entirely to the cause of heritage tourism and turned into museum pieces — stepping inside them is rather like wandering into a Victorian parlour that someone has very carefully preserved under glass, except there’s no glass, just a very patient volunteer in period costume explaining what a butter churn was for.
We picked up a combined ticket at the visitor centre — the sort of sensible arrangement that gets you into the historic houses and up to Fort Mackinac in one go without requiring you to queue multiple times or perform the annual ritual of trying to work out which pocket you put the other ticket in. Remarkably good value, as these things go, and we didn’t even have to argue about it.
One of the first places we called upon was the Mackinac Island’s Missionary Bark Chapel. These chapels were made out of bark and were established by the Jesuit missionaries. The first ones were built in the 1600s by the “black robes” as the Indians called the Jesuits. Father Charles Dablon was the builder of the first birchbark chapel a recreation of which sits below the fort on Mackinac Island.
The climb up to Fort Mackinac is not, it has to be said, a gentle stroll. The hill is steep, the sun was doing its very best impression of something far further south than Michigan, and by the time we reached the top we were all in need of a sit-down and a cold drink. However, it was absolutely worth every laboured step. The fort sits perched on a limestone bluff about 150 feet above the harbour, and the view from up there across the straits is genuinely spectacular — the kind of panorama that makes you understand immediately why someone in uniform decided this was exactly where they wanted to put their cannons. On a clear day you can see clean across to the Upper Peninsula, the water glittering away in every direction, and you get a very real sense of just how strategically important this narrow stretch of water once was to everyone who wanted to control trade and movement across the Great Lakes.
The fort itself has a history that reads like a fairly complicated property dispute played out at gunpoint. It was built by the British in 1780 — hauled up onto that bluff by soldiers who presumably complained about it just as much as we did — as a replacement for the earlier Fort Michilimackinac on the mainland at what is now Mackinaw City. The British held it throughout the Revolutionary War, which was awkward given that the war ended with America winning, and they were eventually obliged to hand it over to the Americans under Jay’s Treaty in 1796, sixteen years after the war had concluded, which suggests the paperwork moved even more slowly in those days than it does now. Then the War of 1812 came along and the whole thing got complicated again. A British force from St Joseph Island launched a surprise attack in July 1812, landing on the north side of the island before the American garrison even knew war had been declared, and took the fort without a shot being fired. The Americans tried to reclaim it in August 1814, marched into an ambush, and were sent packing rather briskly. The British hung on until the Treaty of Ghent settled things diplomatically at the end of 1814, and the fort went back to the Americans for good in 1815. And there it has stayed ever since, quietly minding its own business on top of its hill.
Today it operates as a living history museum, beautifully restored to its late 18th and early 19th-century appearance, and it does the job extremely well. The exhibits are genuinely excellent — period weapons, uniforms, medical equipment, and the sort of everyday objects that bring a place to life far more effectively than a dozen oil paintings of generals ever could. Being the height of the holiday season, the National Park Service was running a full programme of activities, and this is where things got rather entertaining.
Down in the main parade ground, we were treated to a court-martial, performed in full period costume with considerable theatrical commitment by the staff, who clearly relished the whole business enormously. The accused looked suitably guilty, the presiding officer looked suitably severe, and we the audience looked suitably baffled about exactly what military regulation had supposedly been violated, but it was gripping stuff nonetheless. After that came marching drills and a demonstration by the regimental fife and drum band, and here is where Jack and Emily, who had until this point shown only moderate interest in 18th-century military history, suddenly became very interested indeed. Both of them were conscripted — entirely willingly — into the ranks, handed instruments, and proceeded to march about the parade ground with an enthusiasm that was frankly more convincing than some of the adult visitors. We stood and watched with that particular mixture of pride and mild embarrassment that tends to accompany one’s children performing in public, and it was, genuinely, one of those small unexpected moments that makes the whole business of dragging a family halfway across the world entirely worthwhile.
We spent a good couple of hours wandering around Fort Mackinac before eventually conceding that our legs had had enough of the hill and heading back down into town. And what a town it is for the historically curious — or, in our case, for anyone who simply follows their nose and ends up somewhere interesting by accident.
Dotted along the streets below the fort are a number of private houses and commercial buildings that have been carefully restored and opened up as small museums. Not grand, purpose-built affairs with gift shops and audio guides and a café selling overpriced panini — just modest, authentic spaces that tell the story of ordinary life on the island across the centuries. The kind of place you’d walk past without a second glance if the door weren’t propped open and someone in period dress weren’t visible through the window doing something inexplicable with a butter churn.
During the summer season, these little museums are staffed entirely by volunteers — local people who turn up, pull on their 19th-century costumes with what one imagines is either great enthusiasm or quiet resignation, and proceed to tell you everything you never knew you wanted to know about how people actually lived here. And we mean everything. These are not people who give you a vague two-minute summary and point you toward the exit. These are people who have done their research, who clearly love this stuff, and who will, if you make the mistake of asking a follow-up question, still be talking to you twenty minutes later with no sign of stopping. We mean that as a compliment. Mostly.
It was genuinely charming — the sort of living history that brings a place to life far more effectively than any laminated information board ever managed.
By this time we were ready for refreshing ice cream and an obligatory paddle in Lake Huron. All too soon it is time for our ferry ride back to the mainland. Mackinac Island is a magical place and well worth the visit – but it is not a place you would pass on the way to anywhere particular so you have to make the effort to get there!
In Summary …
- Getting to Mackinaw City is the hardest part and it is not the cheapest place to get to
- There is a lot to do on the island so you can easily spend a day or more
- There is no motorised transport so you’ll have to take a horse and cart or cycle or walk!
- The summer months are busy so get your tickets for the ferries and book your accommodation well ahead of time!
Planning the journey
✈️ Getting There
Since Mackinac Island has no bridge connecting it to the mainland, you must arrive by ferry, private boat, or small aircraft.
By ferry — This is by far the most popular and practical choice. Ferries depart regularly from Mackinaw City on the Lower Peninsula and from St Ignace on the Upper Peninsula, with the crossing taking around 16 minutes. Parking is available at the ferry docks on the mainland, so you leave your vehicle there before boarding.
By air — Mackinac Island has a small airport that accepts private and charter flights. The nearest commercial airports are Pellston Regional Airport, roughly a 20-minute drive south of Mackinaw City, and Chippewa County International Airport, about 30 minutes north of St Ignace; both offer shuttle services to the ferry docks. The closest major airport is Cherry Capital Airport in Traverse City, approximately a two-hour drive from Mackinaw City.
In winter — When the Straits of Mackinac freeze over, flying becomes the only option for reaching the island, as ferry services do not operate on ice.
🚲 Getting Around the Island
Cars have been banned on Mackinac Island since 1898 — a rule that has been enshrined in state law since 1960 — and this is central to everything that makes the place feel the way it does. The only motorised vehicles permitted are a single police car, two fire trucks, and an ambulance.
On foot — Much of the island is very walkable, particularly the compact and charming downtown area, which you step into directly from the ferry dock.
By bicycle — Cycling is one of the most popular ways to explore. Bike rentals are readily available near the docks, and the 8.2-mile perimeter road that rings the island is a classic route. You can also bring your own bicycle on the ferry for a small additional fee. Note that e-bikes are prohibited within the state park and city limits, with only a limited exception for Class 1 bicycles in specific situations.
By horse-drawn carriage — Carriages serve as both taxis and tour vehicles. You can hail a horse-drawn taxi on arrival to reach your accommodation, or book a narrated carriage tour that takes in the island’s main sights over roughly an hour and three-quarters. This is considered a quintessential part of the Mackinac experience.
On horseback — Riding is available through the trails of Mackinac Island State Park for those who wish to explore the interior.
Accessibility — For visitors who are unable to walk long distances, electric Amigo carts, adult strollers, and specially designed carriages are available.
Best Time to Visit Michigan
🌸 Spring (March–May)
Spring arrives tentatively in Michigan, with March still carrying the chill of winter across both peninsulas. By April, the landscape begins to thaw and bloom, and by May the state is alive with wildflowers, cherry blossoms in Traverse City, and waterfalls running full from snowmelt. This is a quieter time to visit, particularly in the Upper Peninsula, where tourist infrastructure is gearing up but crowds have yet to arrive. Temperatures range from around 2°C in March to a pleasant 18°C by late May.
It is worth noting that spring can be unpredictable — cold snaps linger, and rain is frequent. Roads in the UP may still be affected by frost damage in early spring. That said, the Sleeping Bear Dunes and the Pictured Rocks coastline are especially striking in this season, and accommodation prices are generally lower than in the summer peak.
What to pack: Waterproof layering system (thermal base layer, fleece mid-layer, waterproof outer shell), walking boots with ankle support, warm hat and gloves (essential for March and early April), light jumper for May afternoons, umbrella or packable rain poncho, and sunscreen for later spring days.
☀️ Summer (June–August)
Summer is undoubtedly Michigan’s most popular season, and for good reason. Temperatures sit comfortably between 24°C and 29°C across much of the Lower Peninsula, while the Upper Peninsula stays cooler and less humid. The Great Lakes shoreline comes into its own — Sleeping Bear Dunes, Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore, Mackinac Island, and the sandy beaches of Lake Michigan’s western shore attract visitors from across the Midwest and beyond.
July is the peak month, particularly around the 4th of July holiday. Accommodation books up quickly and prices rise sharply in popular areas like Traverse City, Petoskey, and the UP’s Munising. That said, this is the season for kayaking, sailing, cycling the Leelanau Peninsula wine trail, and attending the National Cherry Festival in Traverse City (early July). Sunsets over Lake Michigan are, quite simply, among the finest in North America.
What to pack: Lightweight, breathable clothing (linen and cotton), swimwear and a cover-up, sun hat and sunglasses, high-factor sunscreen (the lake reflection intensifies UV), insect repellent (essential, particularly in the UP), light waterproof jacket for evening lake breezes, casual walking shoes or trainers, and a light cardigan for air-conditioned restaurants and evening walks.
🍂 Autumn (September–November)
Autumn is Michigan’s hidden gem and arguably its most visually spectacular season. The Upper Peninsula begins to turn in mid-September, with peak colour usually arriving in late September through mid-October. The Lower Peninsula follows, with the southern regions peaking in late October. The colours — deep crimson maples, golden birches, amber oaks — are extraordinary, particularly along the Keweenaw Peninsula and through the Pictured Rocks corridor.
The weather in September and early October is reliably pleasant, with daytime temperatures between 12°C and 20°C, low humidity, and clear skies. Apple orchards, cider mills, and harvest festivals give the season a warmly festive character. Crowds thin noticeably after Labour Day (early September), making this a superb time to visit popular summer destinations without the queues. By November, temperatures drop sharply and the Upper Peninsula can see its first snowfall.
What to pack: Medium-weight layers (flannel shirts, knitwear), a warm jacket for evenings and the UP, waterproof walking boots or sturdy trainers, scarf and light gloves (particularly for October and November), comfortable trousers in versatile colours, and a small rucksack for day hikes and orchard visits.
❄️ Winter (December–February)
Michigan’s winters are serious business, particularly in the Upper Peninsula, which receives some of the heaviest snowfall in the continental United States — often exceeding 500cm annually in some areas thanks to lake-effect snow off Lake Superior. This makes it a genuine destination for winter sports enthusiasts. Downhill skiing at places like Boyne Mountain, Marquette Mountain, and Mount Bohemia draws visitors from across the region. Cross-country skiing, snowshoeing, and snowmobiling are enormously popular throughout both peninsulas.
Temperatures regularly fall below −10°C in the UP and hover around −5°C to −8°C in the Lower Peninsula. Detroit and the southern Lower Peninsula are milder but still cold by most standards. The Christmas and New Year period sees a spike in visitors at ski resorts and the Frankenmuth Christmas market (dubbed “Michigan’s Little Bavaria”). Outside of these periods, winter is genuinely quiet, with significant discounts on accommodation. Ice fishing is a uniquely Midwestern experience worth trying on any of the state’s thousands of inland lakes.
What to pack: Heavyweight winter coat (rated for at least −15°C), thermal base layers (top and bottom), waterproof insulated snow boots, thick wool or synthetic-fill socks, insulated hat, balaclava or neck gaiter, touchscreen-compatible gloves and an outer waterproof mitt for extreme cold, merino wool mid-layers, and hand warmers for outdoor activities.
📊 Season at a Glance
🗺️ The Best Time to Visit Michigan Overall
If forced to choose a single window, late September to mid-October stands out as the optimal time to visit Michigan for most travellers. The summer crowds have dissipated, accommodation rates have dropped, the weather remains comfortably mild, and the autumn foliage transforms the state — particularly the Upper Peninsula and the northern Lower Peninsula — into something genuinely breathtaking. The combination of accessible hiking, coastal scenery, local food culture (cider mills, farm markets, UP pasties), and manageable temperatures makes this a near-ideal travel window.
For those drawn specifically to beach culture and outdoor water activities, late June through July offers the warmest conditions and the fullest range of summer experiences, accepting that prices will be higher and the most popular spots will be busy. Conversely, travellers interested in winter sports who don’t mind serious cold will find January and February in the Upper Peninsula a world unto itself — remote, dramatic, and utterly unlike anywhere else in the American Midwest.
Where to stay on Mackinac Island
1. Pine Cottage Bed & Breakfast
The unique Victorian farmhouse décor and design of each room with rustic hardwood floors lend itself to the quaint cottage’s much-beloved country character. Choose from 14 traditional guest rooms with either a private or shared bathroom. One multi-room suite will accommodate up to six guests. All rooms have flat-screen smart television and high-speed wireless internet. Porter service for your luggage is available to and from the ferry docks. Each morning a to-go breakfast is available in the dining room. Built in 1870, Pine Cottage was one of the first hotels on historic Mackinac Island. Over the years, it has welcomed some famous guests, including writer Ernest Hemingway and baseball player Ty Cobb. See for yourself what’s been drawing visitors here for centuries. Reserve your Mackinac Island getaway today!
2. Murray Hotel
If you’re looking for a hotel on Mackinac Island that feels genuinely rooted in the island’s history, the Murray Hotel is hard to beat. Built in 1882 by the Murray family — Irish-Americans who had become a fixture of the island’s community — the hotel was positioned right across Main Street from the ferry dock, placing it at the very heart of island life from day one. Now a 69-room property, it remains family owned and managed, preserving its Victorian-era atmosphere while updating facilities to suit modern travelers. Rooms face a variety of views — the waterfront, Main Street, a sundeck and heated spa pool, or the quieter Market Street — and the hotel is home to an art gallery, a Mexican-themed breakfast and lunch spot, and the Murray Hotel Fudge Company. It’s the kind of place that feels less like a hotel stay and more like a genuine slice of Mackinac Island tradition.
3. The Inn At Stonecliffe
Tucked away on the quieter, western side of Mackinac Island, the Inn at Stonecliffe is a destination that feels like a world unto itself. Originally built in 1904 as a lakeside estate for the Chicago Cudahy family, this magnificent Edwardian mansion has been lovingly transformed into one of the island’s most celebrated retreats. Following a sweeping $40 million renovation, the property now blends its original architectural details — hardwood floors, stained glass windows, and ornate fireplace mantels — with thoroughly modern amenities. Set on expansive grounds with winding paths, open gardens, and what many consider the finest vantage point on the island — a breathtaking panorama of the Mackinac Bridge spanning the straits between Lake Huron and Lake Michigan — Stonecliffe manages to feel both grand and deeply personal. Guests can dine at a fine-dining restaurant, a casual BBQ pavilion with a wood-fired pizza oven, or an upscale pub, all without ever leaving the grounds. It’s no wonder TIME named it one of the World’s Greatest Places in 2024.
