Mackinac Island — The fact that you are on an island is more obvious when it’s freezing. The near glacial pace of life is more obvious. Only 500 people call the island home all year long.
In the summer there are a bunch of horse taxis on the island. Call up the dispatch, and they will send one out as soon as possible. In the winter, there’s only one. For the whole island. Just one.
Thad, our horse taxi driver, was waiting outside the airport when we arrived. On our way to town, he told us they run 24 hours a day, even in the winter. He generally only leaves the island for groceries. They are so expensive here that it’s more economical to make big trips off the island. He said that he’s so used to the slower pace of the island that 25 mph feels fast when he’s driving on the mainland.
Stepping off a plane that was in the air just five minutes prior and onto a horse drawn carriage trotting along through the snowy woods at a leisurely pace is jarring. It sounds cliche, but it feels like a time warp. I’m not sure of anywhere else one might experience such a rapid deceleration in speed and technology.
While there are generally no cars allowed on the island, there are, actually, a few here and there. The police have them. Parked in front of the courthouse and police station is a silver Dodge Ram. Mackinac Island Police painted an image of a horse’s head on the side as a homage to the horse-only standard.
There’s almost nothing open on the island in February. A picturesque ghost town. The library is right along the shore. The librarian told me that some days not a single person comes in. There’s a public school with just a few kids in each grade. Everyone knows everyone here in the winter.
That intimacy brings its own challenges that most of us don’t experience. A middle-aged guy in the bar told me he would love to get off the island soon. He said he just got divorced, they met on the island, and they are both still here. Stuck on the island. Two of the 500.
Shop windows are dark downtown. There are bikes covered in snow up to the handlebars. Doud’s Market is the only grocery store in town. It’s a lovely shop. The shelves are fully stocked. The vibe is warm and cozy. They sell coffee in to-go cups and make pizzas in the back.
Kingston Kitchen and Mustang Lounge are the only two restaurants open in the middle of winter. At Kingston Kitchen, our waiter Jesse told me that the colder it is, the more visitors they get on the island. When it’s cold enough, a great ice bridge between the island and St. Ignace forms and tons of snowmobilers come on over. It’s a holy-grail trip for them, though there hasn’t been one in the last few years. He’s gone over on the ice bridge too many times to count.
Jesse told me that the ice bridge isn’t just about fun or leisure, it’s business and money. Construction crews use it to bring over lumber and cinder blocks. Restaurants will bring over kegs and beer. “If we can save on freight to bring our shit over on the ice bridge, we will. But we don’t ever recommend anyone doing it. Not safe, never do it.”
Construction isn’t allowed downtown in the summer. They don’t want to spoil the picturesque scenes of the island in July. Construction has to get done in winter. It feels like half the guys I see on the street are hammering away on some renovation.
The construction workers commute from the mainland. Lots of the flights are filled up with guys wearing thick construction boots and snowmobile jackets covered in sawdust. Waiting for our plane off the island, we were the only ones who hadn’t spent the day outside on a roof or up a ladder.
The Mackinac Island City Council holds meetings every other Wednesday at 2 p.m. in an old, beautiful community hall on Market Street. Up the stairs, and way in the back, six members, the mayor, and 12 attendees sat in a warm, carpeted room.
The majority of the city council meeting was as thrilling as most city councils meetings tend to be. Things, however, did pick up when the discussion turned to the relationship between the island and the ferry companies. Apparently, all the ferries that service the island are now owned by one entity, and the residents of the island are increasingly concerned about the future ticket prices and the planned introduction of new parking fees.
The lawyer representing the ferry companies joined via Zoom. The tension was palpable. Not a single city council member was satisfied with the current situation. Many were very concerned about the rising prices and how they would impact both year-long residents and prospective visitors.
Most of us don’t live on an island. We take for granted ease of transportation to anywhere we want, whenever we want. The ferry issue is a perfect example of how life on the island is different in a way that most of us don’t understand.
The people who live here need a ferry or a plane to get off the island. They are reliant on someone else, or some other way. They are subject to forces—both human and meteorological—that most of us aren’t. Ticket prices and parking fees aren’t just a one-time vacation expense. They are very real parts of the family budget.
In our rooms, on our phones, and in our cars, we live as fractured individuals. The people who live on Mackinac island aren’t quite as fractured. They’re stuck here, together.
O.W. Root is a writer based in Northern Michigan, with a focus on nature, food, style, and culture. Follow him on X @NecktieSalvage.
