Michigan Water

The amazing feeling of running into the freezing water and simultaneously wanting to stay there forever and get out of it as soon as possible cannot be described. That is one of the reasons that every summer for the past ten years I have looked forward to my family’s trip to Northport, Michigan. This memory is only one of the many specific moments that I associate with the town of Northport.

Some people enjoy extravagant, expensive vacations to exotic places in other countries, but I would much rather spend time in the house that feels like my second home on the beach of Northport. The first year my family traveled there I was six years old, so I don’t remember much, except for one vivid memory. That year it rained for almost the whole week we were in Michigan, which my parents were not happy about. The majority of my sisters and my time was spent inside of the house trying not to get burned alive by the hot lava that consumed the entire first floor of the house except for the kitchen. We had to come up with elaborate plans and work arounds to get places, as well as save each other when someone accidentally touched a toe to the green shag carpet that in our minds was toxic green lava. Of course, anyone who was an adult was immune to the lava, so our parents could carry us across the room to get places, but that was too easy! Anyone who did that was weak and got silent treatment for a solid 5 minutes before the other two of us cracked and gave into their begging.

Another specific memory that I associate with this photograph is the combination of 8 years of our picture tradition. Each year after the first two we have gone swimming in Cathead bay. This bay is usually fairly empty because visitors have to do a ½ mile walk through the woods to get to the beach. Because of that we are free to run all the way down and up the beach and swim for hours on end in the clear, freezing water that we were all immune to until we turned ten. The ½ mile walk through the woods was always plagued by many mosquitos, (somehow they all disappeared as soon as we passed the edge of the tree line) but was rewarded as soon as we broke out of the woods and into a sprint across the burning sand that filled our tennis shoes within seconds. All pain was forgotten at the thought of being covered in Lake Michigan’s beautiful water. The sand began to be littered with rocks as we got closer to the edge of the water. My dad and I would later go back to look through those rocks for flat ones fit to skip. As we crossed the top of the sand ridge just before the beach, we started yelling to each other, mostly unintelligible, excited words.

As soon as reaching the edge of the water we would furiously take off shoes and clothes and dump our bags onto the sand. When my mom reached the beach a few seconds later, she would give us a dramatic countdown. At the end of it we all raced into the water until we got too bogged down and fell forward, laughing the whole time. Every year my mom makes sure to get a picture of this moment, because it has become such a special tradition.

         Even now, back in Illinois, I can imagine and almost feel the water. I can see the blue water and taste the cold breeze. Memories like this cannot be imitated or forgotten. I’m not sure how many more years my family will continue to go to Michigan, but I do know that memories like this will always have a special place in my heart. I hope to someday take my kids to a place like this so that they can make their own happy memories. I think everyone deserves to experience moments of stress-free, pure joy, and I sincerely hope that other people have found that in their own way.