Big Point Sable light

This is "my" other lighthouse.  Situated on Big Point Sable in the Ludington State Park, it is probably my very favorite, ever since I was a kid.  Part of the charm in the location, at the northern end of the park. You can't drive there--you can ride a bike or hike a hard-packed dirt road used by the lighthouse volunteers...a short 1 1/2 mile stroll.  You can walk along the shoreline about the same distance.  I like to take the road up and walk the shore, wading the entire distance, back to the parking area.  If you are feeling really robust, the lighthouse can also be reached by other trails from within the park itself--those are 3 or more miles long--and I've done those, too.  Any way you reach it, it's well worth the effort.

 The light was built in 1867, and stands 112' high--one of the few lights on the Great Lakes to stand that tall.  It is still an operating light, and was the last light on the Great Lakes to get electricity--in the 1940s.  Up until then, it was the old wick and lens.

 Sometimes, you just have to get out in the water to get the right shot...  Thanks, ML!

Ludington Light

This is the Ludington light, MY light that I grew up listening to as a child.  Our house was 3 blocks from the lake, and on foggy nights I could hear the foghorn signaling over the waters.  It was such a comforting sound, and I still love the sound of a foghorn.

My grandfather, who lived with us for several years, was an avid fisherman, and he would get up early and come down to the breakwater and fish for lake perch.  I spent many happy hours with him there, dangling my feet over the edge and watching him pull in our evening dinner.

 Yes, this lighthouse has a definite lean to it also.  In 1992 the base under the concrete settled a little, giving the light a slight tilt to the northeast.  The Army Corps of Engineers deemed it still safe, so the light continues to mark the harbor entrance.  Built in 1924 to replace the South Pierhead light, it is 57' tall, and in the winter storms the waves can completely engulf and break over the top of it.  The base is shaped like the prow of a ship to help deflect the storm surges.  I love the porthole windows.

 Just before sunset, when the golden glow paints the side of the lighthouse...  People walk out to the end of the breakwater each evening to watch the sunset from there.  Either on the pier, or on the beach, it's the best show in town.

The breakwater is 1/2 mile out to the lighthouse.  Perfect for an evening stroll... 

Little Point Sable Light

I love the Little Point Sable light, located near the Silver Lake State Park. It is one of my favorite lights, as much for the location as it is for the beautiful brick tower that guards the shoreline.  It was built in 1874, and is still working today, although it has been automated. It has a definite lean--many years ago high waves and winter storms began to erode the ground under the base of the tower.  Large boulders were brought in to protect the base, but ever since then the light is the Leaning Light.

Little Point Sable (pronounced Sah-bul, which is French for "sand") is the sister light to the Big Point Sable light in the Ludington State Park, about 30 miles to the north.  They are both 107' feet high, and there are incredible views from both of them, although I didn't climb them this time.

 The tilt is really noticeable from this angle...  It drives me nuts; I keep wanting to straighten the photo, but that's what it really looks like.  You have to be at just the right angle to make it look straight.

I love beachcombing, because you never know what you might discover.  I found a long narrow puddle along the base of the dunes fronting the beach...probably at least 20' long, but scarcely 2-3" deep.  It had obviously been there long enough for a massive tadpole hatch...in places the puddle was nearly black with them.  I am sure the sea gulls see this as a buffet.  I doubt that very many frogs will emerge from this puddle.  If the gulls don't get them, drifting sand and sun will.

 Old weathered timbers tucked into the side of a dune.  I would love to know the story behind them.

White River Light

The White River lighthouse is charming---made of yellow brick, it reminded me of a castle.  I love the attached keeper's quarters, and the dark green shutters.  Built in 1875, the original keeper and his family (13 kids!) lived in this structure.  He served as lightkeeper for 47 years.  I cannot imagine where all those children slept.  The bedrooms must've looked like dormitories.  But can you imagine how fun it would've been to grow up here, and to help your father with the beacon light?

 Stairs I could not climb---the excuse is that we were on our way to the airport and didn't have the time, which is true.  I have a "thing" about heights, and spiral stairs make me very nervous, sweaty palms and all.  I can climb them, and descend them, but I take 3 times as long as the normal person.  So yes, we didn't have the time to attempt the summit and descent. 

Manistee Light

The first lighthouse on the Manistee North Pier was built in 1875.  Over the years there have been others built; this "newest one" was built in 1927.  It is cast iron, and beginning to show the effects of the elements.  It is one of only 4 lighthouses in the state to have a catwalk, which was used by the lightkeepers to reach the lighthouse during bad weather or during the winter, so they didn't get swept off the breakwater by the high waves or slip on the ice which builds up during the winter.  The catwalk is no longer safe--the ladder leading up to it has rusted away from the attachment point on one side, making it very unstable.

 The catwalk may be unusable, but it certainly is photogenic.

 The evening we were in Manistee was amazing---Lake Michigan was absolutely glass flat and calm, without even a ripple.  There was a slight haze in the air, so that the sky and the lake were the same color and you could barely distinguish the horizon line.  In the photo, the catamaran is flanked by 2 fishing boats out on the horizon--otherwise, it is hard to discern where it lies.

 The lake was so still--I can only remember seeing it like this once.  The catamaran seemed to be floating in air at times, and at others almost looked like an ice boat moving across a frozen still lake.

Point Betsie Light

The Point Betsie light is one of the most-photographed lighthouses in Michigan.  It sits on a dune above Lake Michigan, and marks the southern end of the Manitou Passage, between the Manitou Islands and the western shore of Michigan.  Used by ships to save 50 miles in travel, and to avoid storms, it was also hazardous--there are 16 known diveable shipwrecks and a history of nearly 150 ships that went down in the passage.  It was built from 1854-1858, and started operating at the beginning of shipping season in 1859.  In the 1870s a life-saving station was added, and it was one of the earliest of those on Lake Michigan.

 I've seen photos from this viewpoint in the winter, when so incredibly brave (or foolhardy) photog got out there to shoot from this angle.  The slope is completely covered in snow and ice, and each of the raised blocks have icicles hanging almost horizontally due to the winds off the Big Lake.  I'm just fine with seeing it in the summer, thank you.

 And yes, Lake Michigan truly is this color along the shore here.  It was stunningly turquoise--nearly tropical in its shade.

Old Mission Lighthouse

This is the Old Mission lighthouse, which sits at the tip of the Old Mission Peninsula.  It was built in 1870, and served to warn mariners of the peninsula which juts out into Grand Traverse Bay, splitting it into East Bay and West Bay.  It is no longer a working light, but is open to the public.  One of its claims to fame is that it sits on the 45th parallel, half way between the equator and the North Pole.

The last time I visited this light, about 22 years ago, Lake Michigan was much higher--all the rocks in the foreground were under water, and the shoreline was just about where the top of my siggie is.  I don't know if global climate change is to blame, or if it is just part of the periodic fluctuation of the water levels in the Great Lakes.  It seemed odd to see the lighthouse stranded way up on the shore.

 But, those low water levels exposed some wonderful rocks, and the calm day lent itself to some nice reflections.  A couple of hours later we were at the tip of the Leelanau Peninsula at the Grand Traverse light (yesterday's post), which is the land in the distance in the photo below.  By that time, all the cloud cover had cleared and we had gloriously blue skies.  I would've loved some blue skies here, but this worked!

Grand Traverse Light

ML is a barn hunter.  I enjoy a good barn, but I am a lighthouse crawler.  Granted, you know where the lighthouses are--there is no thrill of discovering a lighthouse just around the bend of the road, like there is with barns.  But having been raised on the shores of Lake Michigan, being lulled to sleep on foggy nights by the sound of the foghorn in our town's lighthouse, lighthouses are in my blood.  To me, they represent safety, refuge and security.  I can remember seeing the sweep of the light on stormy nights, signaling a safe haven to ships out on the water.  Other lights warn of dangerous shoals or shallow waters, and their beacons stand as guardians on the shores.

So, as we barn hunted, we also lighthouse crawled, which also gave me a good excuse to play in the water....

This is the Grand Traverse light.  It is at the tip of the Leelanau Peninsula on Cat's Head Point, and was built in 1858.  It is no longer an operating light, but is open to the public for tours of the light and the keeper's home, which is part of the same building.

 I've seen photos of this light in its early days.  There are no trees around it--it stands proud and tall on the hill overlooking Grand Traverse Bay.  Over the years, the trees have grown up and blocked it somewhat.

                 The builders used all the wonderful beach rocks to build stairs, planting beds, and decorative planters.  Of course, I love all of them!

That was a lot of rocks to haul!

 But...the beaches this far north are rocky, so there is no scarcity of rocks.  I'm sure that the builders also found plenty of rocks as they excavated the foundation.

There were several rock cairns along the beach.  It seemed like people just couldn't resist building them---so much great material laying around, waiting to be used.

Details

The amount of detail work on this house just blew me away.  When I looked at all those spindles on the porches and balconies, each one meticulously painted, I marveled at the dedication of the owners to maintain this house as it was, and not to opt out and take the easy way and paint all the detail work and trim white.

I love this old door, and the fact that it shows its age somewhat.  (The house was built in the 1890s)  Look at the glass panes in the windows, and the beveled detail.  Look at that fabulous door knob, and the carvings above the mail slot.  And the mail slot...can't you just picture letters being delivered through it, and a basket below on the floor to catch the mail?  Even a door can tell a story.

 This was an old empty business that has stood in the same location for probably close to 100 years.  I don't know what it was originally.  But, I can't believe the fancy windows that were put in a store front.

 Isn't it amazing how a simple window box and geraniums can dress up an already lovely window?

A moment of serenity sponsored by The Sit-A-Spell Association...