Mackinac Island — Everyone knows there are no cars on Mackinac Island. There are old bikes with wicker baskets and horses drawn carriages. That’s summer on the island. But how do the 500 people who live here all winter get around?
You can’t battle your way up a steep hill on a 3-speed Huffy when it’s 11 degrees, with 20 mph winds, and there’s a foot and a half of snow on the ground. So what do they do when there is only one horse taxi on the whole island and the roads are slick with ice, turning bike transport into some kind of wintery death wish?
Snowmobiles. Lots of snowmobiles. They are the island’s snowy partner to its summer bicycles. They are parked orderly along Market Street. Pulled up haphazardly in front of houses, idling in driveways. Waiting a few feet from the shore. Tucked tightly together in the snowmobile parking next to the airport.
It might seem like the presence of snowmobiles invalidates the spirit of the island’s ban on cars, but somehow it doesn’t. Even though they sound like a cocktail of chainsaws and lawn mowers, they feel completely right on the snowy island.
It’s something about their inconvenience. The fact that they aren’t luxury cars with heat and AC. The driver is exposed to the elements, not hidden behind thick glass and locked doors. They are small and personal, skidding down back streets and wooded paths. They share this in common with the bicycles.
Snowmobiles rule the roads here. On the horse taxi into town, they hummed alongside our carriage. Speeding by, darting in and out of the woods. Neon snowmobile suits and the faint smell of gasoline fading in the cold air.
A bunch of the island’s snowmobiles have sleds attached to the back. Some are set on steel runners, others are simple plastic. They all seem to be rigged in some homemade fashion. They use them to haul groceries, packages, supplies, and even people.
On the road in front of the Grand Hotel a father buzzed past us with his two kids packed into a plastic sled sliding behind him. They couldn’t have been more than 8 years old. There are no seat belts in these sleds. Both wore helmets and heavy jackets. The one in front rested his arm cooly along the edge of the sled as they slid by.
From the Mustang Lounge we saw a man, woman, and toddler pull up across the street. The older gentleman rode in the second seat, the woman drove, and the toddler—who was no more than 2 years old—sat on her lap in front.
It sounds insane to us parents who strap our children into Apollo 1-style car seats on the mainland, but this is normal life here. Until their babies are strong enough to hold on tight in an otter sled being dragged behind a snowmobile, they ride on mom or dad’s lap.
What a childhood. Imagine spending the majority of the winter in a sled behind a snowmobile. The rare carseat they encounter on the mainland must feel like a straitjacket for these kids. Lindsey—the co-owner of the Mustang Lounge—told me that kids are allowed to start driving their own snowmobile to school when they are 14.
On Market Street, a guy hauling four construction workers in a sled behind him passed us. Construction isn’t allowed in the summer, but it has to get done sometime so there’s no shortage of construction workers here in February. And they’ve all got to get around somehow. Some drive snowmobiles, some ride in sleds behind them. They fly on and off the island. At the airport there are bookshelves in the entryway which serve as shelves for snowmobile helmets.
These are scenes that just don’t really exist anywhere else. I can’t think of many places on earth where you might regularly see a snowmobile passing by a horse-drawn carriage. That juxtaposition that simply doesn’t exist anywhere else in any kind of regular way.
Most snowmobile culture exists alongside cars, not as a replacement for them. In the U.P., you see lots of snowmobiles along the road, parked at diners, and filling up at gas stations. And there are cars right next to them. But on Mackinac Island, you see snowmobiles and snowmobiles alone. Speeding past great, beautiful cottages shuttered for the winter. Sliding down quaint, snow covered alleyways. Picking up kids from school. Less than 15 feet from Lake Huron, Mackinac Bridge in the distance, a snowmobile parked with a package from Amazon in its sled. These are unique scenes.
Snowmobile culture on Mackinac Island is distinguished by the fact that it is absolutely necessary and not one bit voluntary. They don’t ride the snowmobiles for fun or recreation. They don’t “go snowmobiling” on a “snowmobiling trip” like most snowmobilers in Michigan do. There are no other options here for the 500 people who live here. It’s a snowmobile or nothing.
On Mackinac Island in the winter, life depends on the snowmobile.
O.W. Root is a writer based in Northern Michigan, with a focus on nature, food, style, and culture. Follow him on X @NecktieSalvage.
