Our trip started out rough. Chris informed me late the night before that our flight had been cancelled and was replaced with three (or maybe even four) connecting flights that left earlier and from a further airport than we’d planned. My alarm went off at 4:00AM. Due to a 15-minute delay upon leaving, the check-in person being confused about what was or wasn’t allowed when checking a gun, and the TSA line being incredibly slow, we missed our first flight by one minute. Chris was able to call someone and get a new one booked, so it all worked out in the end, but we spent the entire day in airports or on planes. We went from Houston to Dallas, Dallas to Chicago, and Chicago to Wisconsin. I found it interesting that each flight experience was very different. The first was a standby flight on a typically-sized plane, and Chris and I sat together but I was grouchy and tired. The second, the plane was huge, with middle aisles, and we couldn’t sit together, but they had TV screens we could message each other on. I wrote some of my book, chatted with the guy next to me, listened to some of The New World (Jurassic Park 2) on audible, and fell asleep. The third plane was contrastly tiny, and Chris and I snuggled up happily as our anticipation for the trip heightened every minute. His mom picked us up and we went to their little house in Menominee, then out to dinner at an old pub called Jozwiak’s (“Joe’s Wax”) that Chris has raved about, where we had Wabash burgers and square-cut pizza. I hit the pillow as soon as I was given the guest room, and slept.

I awoke to the pitter patter of the sprinkler hitting the side of the one-story house, still decorated with Chris’s grandparents’ things. His dad’s childhood portrait looked down at me from the wall alongside his two sisters. Sunshine shone through the white vertical shutters onto the orange upholstered accent chair beside the dresser, and I rose to see the time. Six thirty. I had intended to sleep in, but instead decided to pray morning prayer and offer our trip to the Lord, trusting in his provision of a good visit, harmony between us and Chris’s family, and financial provision for the time we’d taken off from work to be here. I journaled a little, then came out of my room to see who else was up. We all decided on a plan for the day, then got ready to head out to Door County.

It was a two-hour drive to our destination, and we stopped on the way at a little cheese shop called Seguin’s. I beamed as we walked through the door and I found myself surrounded by familiar northern cuisine: cheese, meat, jams, fudge, and more. Black bear and moose decor covered the shelves to my left, and a row of Minnetonka slippers and fur-coated hats adorned the space to my right. Above the checkout counter was an alternating pattern of cheese wedge hats, a staple for Green Bay Packers fans. We picked up “spaghetti string” cheese for the road, which tasted like string cheese but looked like an endless line of taffy.

Long roads sliced through farms and trees to bring us to a peninsula run on cherries, cheese, and wine. Our first stop was Door Peninsula Winery and Distillery, where we sampled flavors like Dry Cherry, Lighthouse White, Mead, Sinister, and Hallowine. We also sampled flavored olive oils and balsamic vinegars, and ended up buying a large case full of the ones we liked. The distillery was good too, though I had had enough from the wine to feel a buzz. We sat outside on a patio deck with blue umbrellas and sipped our drinks, sharing stories and showing off purchases.

After we’d had our fill of wine, we moved on to a cherry picking orchard called Hyline. I didn’t really like cherries that much, but I wanted to experience something unique to Wisconsin. We purchased a little white pail and made our way past the rustic market shop to the rows of cherry trees behind it. It was the end of the season, so all that was left were sour cherries, and they were incredibly ripe! So ripe they were red as Rudolph’s nose and fragile to the touch. There were hundreds of them, and our bucket filled rapidly. I ducked underneath branches to reach the ones further in towards the tree’s trunk and found the foliage opened up into a sort of canopy. I decided to climb one tree with easy footing and enjoyed the view tremendously. I hung the pail on a tree branch and watched as Chris and his parents brought handfuls of cherries to it. Chris helped me down after a while and we schemed on what to do with our loot when we got home that evening.

We traversed deeper into Door County, passing roadside markets and attractions and reaching the downtown area. Adorable shops lined every street, and in between alleys we could see either green mountains or sailboat-filled docks on the water, depending which way you looked. Hungry, we parked and wandered to a pub called Bayside Tavern, where a canoe hung from the ceiling and old mysterious photos lined the walls. We got an appetizer of fried cheese curds for the table, and they were by far my favorite of the trip (I ordered fried cheese curds every chance I got, 1. because I love them and 2. to compare). We enjoyed our meals and the rest the break offered our feet, then got back to walking around town.

We made our way to the marina, where tiny wood-railed fishing boats were docked alongside millionaire yachts. The water was clear and greenish-blue, the air wet but not salty, despite how much it looked like an ocean bay. Sea gulls floated overhead and pirate flags flapped in the breeze that cut the sun’s burning heat—a perfect day. We stayed a while to soak in the scene before heading back up the hill to the many gift shops in Door County.

Our first, and probably my favorite shop was Hide Side Corner Store. Outside it, a kaleidoscope was fixed to a round flower planter, which spun to reveal beautiful colors and shapes within the eye piece. Chris’s mom took his and my picture around the many flowers hanging about (which Door County is known for), and then we went inside. My jaw dropped. Natural materials such as geode bookends, live edge wooden tables, fur coats, leather wallets, stone lanterns, paper birch shelving and more were everywhere! An Indian brand motorcycle topped the central table. I’m sure I didn’t see everything, despite trying, because unexpected gems hid in every corner of the place. If I had a million dollars, I would have bought one of everything.

It took a lot for Chris to convince me to leave and join his parents, who were waiting for us outside; but the fun didn’t stop there. We went on to visit Door County Rock + Gem, where we saw more amazing minerals (the Upper Peninsula is known for mining) and got a geode to crack; Confectionery candy shop, where I bought some chocolate to snack on; and Fish Creek Moccasin, where we admired all the cool coastal-themed decor.

Around 5PM, we called it a day and began the long drive home. Upon arrival, Chris and I attempted to crack the geode, but it was so dense that it took quite a few failed attempts before revealing its coconut-like insides, which were, unfortunately, disappointing. After sitting with the parents for some time in the living room, we migrated to the front patio, where we were joined by Chris’s aunt and one of their neighbors, and everyone chatted as the sun went down. Still sleep deprived, I excused myself for bed and settled in for a good night’s sleep.

Before I fell asleep, however, Chris knocked on the door to ask me if I would join him and his mom in preparing the cherries for the cobbler we planned to make. She wanted to pit them ahead of time since they were so ripe. I obliged, and we sat around the kitchen island with straws, poking out the pits of the cherries. Chris’s dad was too tired (or too retired) to help, and sat in the living room making jokes. We, on the other hand, found our fingers wrinkled from the juices, and were very grateful when we’d finally finished the bowl. I cooked them into pie filling and we set it aside for the next day. Then, I slept.

Our second day in Menominee was primarily a rest and recover day. With how many treats we were eating, I wanted to get some healthy at-home food, so we swung by the grocery store to do some shopping. After unloading the groceries and running a few errands with Chris’s mom, we returned to Seguine’s Cheese so I could take my time looking at all the souvenirs. Chris wanted a pair of nice moccasin slippers, and offered to get me some as well. The ones I picked are the softest things that have ever touched my feet! I love them. We got squeak cheese and string cheese, a mug that matched the coffee Chris’s dad offered me on our first day, and a little cherry scented lip gloss in the shape of a wine bottle, which reminded me of our trip to Door County.

Next, Chris and I took the Porsche out for a ride in town. We put the top down and let the wind hit our face, blasting classic rock as we drove. He took me to a pretty little park called John Henes, where we walked on the beach and over a little bridge by a pond with a water fountain. In the grass, Chris pointed out a little toad because he knows I love frogs and toads; and when we paid attention, we saw that there were loads of them! All bouncing towards the tree coverage around our feet. I was careful not to step on any.

Next, we went to a little sports store to find supplies for our upcoming camping trip, and Chris showed me Holy Spirit Catholic Church, where we’d be going for Mass later that week. It looked just like my home parish, St. John’s, with a tall brick steeple and green vines creeping up the sides. We parked the car at the marina and walked to an ice cream shop that Chris has visited every year that he’s come there, ever since he was a kid, to get “Blue Moon” almond-flavored ice cream, which made him grin ear to ear. We walked with our waffle cones, catching drips of melting sweets before it could make our hands all sticky, and made our way to the marina again. The sail boats sat perfectly still before the pier that sheltered them from the waves. Chris and I walked hand in hand to the end and back, stopping to sit for a while and listen to the water. Large storm clouds loomed overhead, and I worried we’d be chased away by rain.

Surprisingly, the rain never hit us harder than a few droplets. We were able to visit a little red lighthouse nearby—Menominee North Pier Light—and climb up its steep and narrow metal spiral staircase. A nice old man who looked like a retired veteran turned fisherman sat on a chair outside to greet visitors. He told us to go as high up into the lighthouse as we dared, so we did, even ascending a ladder into the part with the light. It was only on our way down that we saw the sign which said, you may climb the ladder, but do not enter the landing!

It was a beautiful view from the top, though the room was hot and stuffy. We came down again, peeking out the circular windows as we went, and stopping at a lower platform encircled by black chains. We enjoyed the scenery and talked a while before going the rest of the way down, then we searched for a beach to sit on for the last few minutes we had before we had to meet up with his parents for dinner. Unfortunately, the beach had been blocked off with rocks, no longer available, so we sat on the rocks instead. I held his hand and laid back on the rock, letting myself hear the waves and gull calls, feel the breeze and sunlight on my face. It was a short but precious moment.

When we returned, Chris’s parents had prepared a lovely dinner for us, and we all ate together around the island. When we finished, I gave them directions to make the cobbler while Chris set up one of our new favorite board games, Campy Creatures. Playing that all together with his family was so much fun, and it was hilarious to see how competitive Chris’s dad (who crushed us all) got. By the time we finished playing, the cobbler was done, and it turned out to be delicious! Having worked so hard to make it—picking and pitting the cherries—we appreciated every bite so much more, and I experienced a proud satisfaction in it. It was a great end to the day.

Today I slept in later than usual, mosying into the kitchen just before eight, where I was surprised to find Chris was not up yet. I snuck down to his room in the basement and gently woke him up, nuzzling my nose into his neck and kissing his shoulder. His bleary eyes recognized me and smiled gently. We talked for a little while, dozed off, and then talked some more before getting up to find some coffee.

It was a lazy kind of day. Chris and I made breakfast together, each of us on either side of the stove preparing our own concoctions, neither really speaking, but I was happy to be doing something with him. Everyone was pretty tired, but we decided to get ready and go to a boat launch in town, which was the release of a large military ship into the river. We drove together and crossed the freeway to witness the event from the bridge, but after a half hour of waiting I practically missed the moment it fell on its side into the water. It was cool to see such a massive vessel rocking back and forth like a bath toy, though.

After dropping Chris’s parents off at the house, Chris and I took the car to a tiny burger joint that appeared to be in a time loop from the 50s called Micky Lu’s, where we ordered burgers for everyone. While we waited for them to be ready, we swung by a nearby Starbucks and got frappuccinos and talked.

When we returned to the house with our burgers, Chris’s Aunt Shelly was there, so we all talked together around the counter. Chris’s dad found some old photos and brought them out for his sister to go through, and one of them was of Chris as a teenager surrounded by debate team trophies. He was a tall, skinny thing, but with swag—hands in his pockets, chin held high with the slightest smoulder on his face, and those same dark eyes I know and love today. “You were as good then at arguing that you can solve any problem by shooting it as you are now, huh?” I asked. We laughed and talked for a good long time before Chris’s mom had to go pack and his aunt had to head home.

Chris and I went to sit on the patio outside, where we relaxed for a while under the overcast sky. I was very tired, and sitting there with Chris, joking around and resting my head on his shoulder, was just what I needed. Before we knew it, however, it was time for the vigil Mass. The church looked so much like my home parish, St. John the Evangelist’s in Goshen: brick walls, towering steeple, high buttresses and an intricate central altar that housed the Tabernacle. Everything was off-white and gold, adorned with plants and flowers to show respect. It was a lovely Mass, and the homily was exactly what I needed to hear: a message on how positive thinking leads to positive action, and negative “grumbling” or complaining does the opposite. I’ve been very pessimistic lately, and needed to be called out on it, so I could be called into a deeper love and communion with the people in my life.

After Mass, the four of us went to a restaurant called Rail House, an all-American brewery and restaurant with warm booths, vintage slot machines, and sports paraphernalia on the walls. We all shared a beer flight—from which my favorites were the “Summer Cream,” “Outta The Blue Blueberry,” and “Caramel Cream”—as well as an appetizer sampler with cheese curds, fried ravioli, onion rings, and cheddar broccoli nuggets. Our food took a long time to come out, but we talked about travel, lake houses, past missed opportunities for purchasing land, growing older, and more.

During our chat, I got a call and texts announcing that my baby nephew had been born! I was so surprised, as just that afternoon Chris had asked me when my sister-in-law was due, commenting on how it was coming up. Apparently there had been some complications with their home water birth, so my brother and the baby went to the NICU while my sister-in-law stayed home with her nurse friend. Chris’s family was very sweet, congratulating me, inquiring after the baby and mamma’s health, and encouraging me to take any time I needed to check in with the family. Chris asked me if I was excited, or worried, and I said both. I got more info from my mom a little later, and so far it seems everything is okay. Nine pounds, as an 8-day early premi! I can’t wait to meet the little nugget.

As I corresponded with my family via text, Chris, his dad, and I watched an action alien science-fiction movie called The Tomorrow War. It was a fun film, with pretty cool alien creatures, though some of it we made fun of while we watched. I really enjoyed being able to share that with them. Then as I was getting up to go to bed, the little Wookiee tootsie roll of a dog, Schatzie, kept chasing me around. I was afraid he wanted to attack my leg in an R-rated manner, so I ran away and climbed onto Chris’s lap for sanctuary. We all thought it was rather funny. Finally, I bid everyone goodnight, and snuck to my room while the dog was distracted by our homemade cherry cobbler, which Mrs. Allgeyer was munching on. Chris kissed me goodnight, and I went to bed.

Chris’s mom left for the airport this morning while his dad stayed behind to eventually drive their car back to Texas. Chris and I borrowed it for a trip within our trip up to Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore, where we’d be camping for the next and final two nights of our U.P. visit. On the way, we swung by Colonel K’s Pasty Shop for breakfast, and because I had never encountered Pasties outside of “Pumpkin Pasties” in Harry Potter. It was basically a little pot pie hot pocket, and the kind I got was a lot like a breakfast taco inside.

It was a long drive up to Lake Superior, but it was time spent in good company. We drove through Marquette, a beautiful town with lots of hills and murals. We were hoping to go for a hike, but ended up having trouble finding a campsite right away. Most places that would normally be first-come-first-serve were booked up ahead of time, so by the time we found a campsite—Island Lake Campground—it was too late to add another trip.

Nonetheless, we set up Chris’s new North Face tent for two and had dinner together using his JetBoil and freeze dried food packets, then went for a walk to the lake and back. It looked stormy out, so we didn’t stay long. Fortunately, it didn’t rain until after we’d gotten in the tent, and stopped before we got up the next morning. I hardly slept because the ground was so hard, but it was worth it for the experience of camping together.

Chris and I broke camp bright and early to leave for our kayak tour of Pictured Rocks, stopping at Hardee’s (Carl’s Jr.) on the way for chicken and waffle breakfast sandwiches. On the drive, Chris mentioned how his coworker said that Subarus—the kind of car I want—come with a hacky sack, because it’s most commonly driven by hippy granola people. I laughed that I wouldn’t mind, though I never feel like I belong with the people who share my hobbies such as acroyoga, salsa dancing, and art. Chris checked us in while I waited in the car, and returned with a tie-dye waterproof phone case, which cracked me up and annoyed me at the same time, since I thought he was just making fun of my hippie child tendencies. Turns out he thought I would like it because it wasn’t boring like the other solid-color cases, which would have been an accurate assumption if it hadn’t been hot pink tie dye.

Our tour guides provided life vests and spray skirts and gave us the rundown on what to expect. When everyone was ready, we headed to the docks, where a large vessel held rows of lime green kayaks on its roof. We climbed aboard and sat by an open window to look at the lake. It was a little drizzly out, but the sun was starting to peek through the clouds.

When we reached the beautiful cliffs of Pictured Rocks, our captain directed us to the back of the boat, where the crew slid kayaks down a chute to the water below. They helped us climb into the tandem kayak, me in the front and Chris in the back, and we pushed away from the metal dock that held the kayak in place. We approached the water’s edge as a group, where two people were swimming and climbing on the edge—the only people we saw doing anything like that until the end of the tour. Giant pockets were hewn into the side of the colorful layered cliffs by water erosion, like holes in a block of swiss cheese.

Not far off we saw our first and one of the most iconic stops—Lover’s Leap: a towering archway under a little peninsula. Looking up as we drifted beneath it reminded me of Natural Bridge, though it was smaller. We continued on to many landmarks, including Rainbow Cave, Gull Rockery, Grand Portal, Battleship Rocks, Indian Drum, Indian Head, Chapel Rock, Spray Falls, Painted Caves, Cave of All Colors, and Miners Castle (if I remember correctly).

Everywhere we went, the water was crystal clear and bright teal, matching the teal patches of sediment on the rock, which was marked with layers of black, brown, red, orange, tan, even purple in some places. Overhanging ledges dripped purified water that we were told we could drink, and tasted like minerals. Close to the bottom of the cliffs there was a distinct line of pebbles, which our tour guide said if we could get one out he’d give us two million dollars. Funny enough, Chris managed to knock one out with his paddle, but it fell into the water where we couldn’t reach.

My favorite spots were the caves. The first that we went into was massive and round, and we went in a circle through it on its outer edge. Our voices, the waves, and splashing paddles echoed deeply off the walls. Chris pushed us along while I took pictures and videos. We traveled under another smaller archway, over a tiny current between a narrow path of rocks (the most adventurous part of the journey!), and under a very low tunnel (my absolute favorite part) that wound through the rock a little ways, like a labyrinth.

Towards the end, we reached a beach covered in tourists near Chapel Rock, on which was a 250 year old tree, whose roots stretched like a bridge from its stand to the cliff beside it. Apparently, the rock between had fallen out from under it, but despite having no dirt to nourish it upon the chapel-shaped structure, the tree managed to survive by reaching its roots to the woods. “Life finds a way,” Chris quoted Ian Malcolm from Jurassic Park.

That was our final stop, after which we returned to the boat that took us on a long ride back to where we’d started in Munising. Chris and I then went to Falling Rock Cafe for a bite to eat (I got ice cream), and found it to be the most delightful little book shop eatery, much like the concept I had in mind for my coffee shop library. (Maybe one day!) We took our time in town, wandering through different gift shops and information centers, buying souvenirs for my family. At one point we also bought pool floaties for camping, since it had been painfully hard the night before and camping pads or air mattresses cost too much. Then we planned a couple quick hikes to end the day.

We visited Miners falls, where we took a half mile hike through beautiful forest of tall, skinny trees for a pretty waterfall overlook; Miners Castle, which gave us great views of the water where we’d kayaked earlier; and Miners beach, a sandy stretch of crystal clear (and freezing cold) water. Monarch butterflies made an appearance from time to time, exciting me with a flash of orange against the green backdrop.

Having camped the night before, and planning to camp again, Chris and I were in need of a shower. We had acquired eco-friendly soap that could be used for hair, body, dishes, and laundry without hurting the environment. Changing into a bathing suit, I braved myself for the 50-degree water, and ran in before I could chicken out. The cold knocked the wind out of me! Still, I managed to submerge myself entirely, and the “hippy soap,” as we called it, worked surprisingly well!

Chris was a big baby and refused to come in for a long time. I teased and pressured him until finally he inched his way into the water. I came out briefly to grab my camera. The sun reflected beautifully off the turquoise water as it began its descent towards the horizon. I returned to the shore, where a line of pebbles like the layer in Pictured Rocks added stripes to the textured sand beneath my feet. Then, as I glided gracefully into the water towards Chris, my tranquility was broken by an attack. Horse flies! A massive fly pelted my head, circling madly as I flailed and shouted! I swam to Chris, who spun in circles splashing at the beast.

I grabbed a stick and hit one of them like a baseball, knocking it into the water and earning proud exclamations from Chris. His wings wet, the monster couldn’t fly away, and I smashed it into the sand. It took a few tries before it squished, and Chris gave it a burial of sand. We laughed hysterically.

When Chris finally submerged his shoulders into the water, I cried, “You did it! How does it feel?” to which he responded with a laugh, “I’m not a damned polar bear, I’m from Texas.” We finished bathing, then gathered our things and ran up the beach to escape the many irritating, biting black flies, wondering how on earth no one else was getting bitten. As it turns out, they sell bug spray specifically for the flies on the beach. Too bad no one had told us!

Finally clean, Chris and I drove around looking for a campsite to settle down in for the night, but had no luck. Everything had been booked up ahead of time, so we found a hotel in Marquette to spend the night. So, we never got to use our pool floaties, but it was significantly more comfortable, and provided the rest I needed for our last day.

We woke up bright and early once again to catch another tour, this time of the shipwrecks in the Munising area of Lake Superior. We stopped at Big Boy Burger for breakfast, which Chris was very excited about, since it’s referenced in Austin Powers. It turned out to have a buffet that was perfect, since we could grab our food quickly to make it back to Munising on time. Our booking, however, had not been processed properly, and the boat was at full capacity for the time we’d selected. Fortunately, there was another in a couple hours we could catch instead.

In the meantime, Chris took me to Horseshoe Falls & Gift Shop, which had a beautiful botanical garden and trout feeding pond. It was a splendid surprise! The gift shop had so many awesome things, such as Native American creations, cabin kitchenware, gemstones and geodes, and more. I bought gifts for my family and close friends, then we hiked the short trail up to the falls, which were much smaller than the ones we’d seen the day before but, in my opinion, prettier. They trickled down a creek alongside the walking path, which cut across it over multiple little wooden pedestrian bridges.

Along the trail we saw lots of trees and plants, as well as an unexpected meteor with a plaque explaining where it’d come from and how it’d been found. After touching a bit of space, Chris led me to the trout pond, where we could use a quarter machine to obtain food to feed them. Ducks kept trying to snatch the bait, but they were no match for the swiftly swimming rainbow trout, whose spotted backs were hardly visible against the reflective glare. They sliced through the water like sharks, gulping up the little kibble pieces we tossed in.

We moved on to exploring little shops around town, taking photos with a BigFoot statue and grabbing more gifts to bring home. As the time for us to return to the docks approached, we grabbed lunch to go from EJ’s! Dine-or-Dash, where I got fried pierogies—something I’d never tried before and absolutely loved.

The shipwreck tour vessel was significantly larger than the one we’d taken for our kayak tour. Inside the lower deck, large holes were cut into the floor surrounded by black metal railings, at the bottom of which was clear glass to reveal the emerald water below us. Bubbles filled our view as the ship roared to life and left the marina.

The captain broke us into two groups so that half the party could see the shipwrecks via the glass bottom while the other half would enjoy scenic views from the upper deck. The first of the two ships we got to see was the Bermuda Shipwreck, which we could actually see from the upper deck as well, through the clear water! It was massive and reminded me of a scene from Pirates of the Caribbean. When group two (ours) was beckoned below deck, we got to see it up close, with all its rotting and broken boards which told the story of tragedy. Unlike an ocean shipwreck, there were no barnacles, seaweed, or more than a few minnows swimming about, as the lake is salt-free and too cold for much plant life.

In between shipwrecks, we also got to see Grand Island East Channel Light, an old-looking wooden lighthouse that would have once featured an oil lamp before electric lights were used. We cruised along some of the familiar Pictured Rocks, enjoying a higher view than we had from the kayaks. Then we reached our second destination, a ship that had hit a reef during a snowstorm and sank with all its iron ore and table salt just before Thanksgiving. The wreck was later dynamited, and we could see a claw-footed tub and porcelain throne, as well as the anchor and other pieces of the vessel, amid the rubble.

Chris and I sat together at the front of the boat on the upper deck for the ride back to the harbor, enjoying the sunshine and wind. We didn’t linger long on our way back, since we’d have to pack up that night for an early departure the next day. We did, however, stop at Upper Peninsula Inspired Gifts & Winery on the way back to pick up some Mackinac Island fudge, and went to Seguin’s Cheese Shop one last time when we got back to Menominee so I could get cheese curds to bring back for my family. It blew my mind that the trip was already over, but I was grateful for new memories and to be headed home to Texas. Perhaps we’ll come back next year, and I’m sure if we do there will be no shortage of amazing opportunities in the amazing Upper Peninsula of Michigan.