Monday, November 8, 2010

Get off the Expressway

In 1956, after much lobbying by the automobile industry, the Interstate Highway System was authorized under Dwight D. Eisenhower.  We can thank the Federal Aid Highway Act of 1956 then for our expansive and intricate web of expressways that wend throughout our country, allowing us to reach our destinations much more expeditiously and, because of that, less expensively.

I am not opposed to the system we have in place, and, at times, I find myself frustrated that there aren't more such expressways.  The drive from South Bend to Indianapolis is nearly intolerable with two lane highways and seemingly endless stoplights and snarled traffic as one traverses through larger towns such as Kokomo.  However, there are times when the pleasure of the trip comes from the drive itself, and, in getting off of the expressway and onto the lesser traveled roads and two lane highways, one can catch a glimpse of Americana and of a culture that seems to be from time gone by. However, small town life seems alive and well.  It's just that we don't actually see it when we're zipping by on the beltway at 70 miles per hour.

This past weekend, I opted to "get off the highway."   A month or so ago, after a trip to Hagar Township, MI to walk my dog on the one remaining beach that allowed dogs (and now, the township has opted to disallow dogs, causing a big ruckus amongst the people, but more on that in another blog post), I discovered a place called Bob's Barn.  Bob's Barn is one of hundreds of "farmer's markets" that you will come across if you bother to get off the expressway while driving through Michigan.  I stopped because I saw the enticing sign offering "pumpkin rolls."  This writer has never, ever bypassed any establishment that offers pumpkin anything, and so I pulled into Bob's, my mouth watering.  Alas, when I walked into the market and inquired about the pumpkin rolls, Bob's wife told me that they were all out. She actually makes them herself, along with pies, pastries and muffins of every sort.  Bob's sells their own produce, grown on the farm behind the market.  There are various and sundry other offerings, such as jams and jellies, pickled produce, honey, soaps and a variety of other products, not all hand grown or hand made by the couple, but most of which come from local growers and manufacturers.  They explained to me that the market used to belong to her parents, and at that time it was just a roadside stand.  They inherited it years back--(they've been married for fifty years now!) and so they have run the market for a good long time.  Six years ago, they experimented and actually erected a building because, they said, "people preferred not to shop in the rain." and told me that, after a slow first year, it took off.  I was indescribably sad about not getting a pumpkin roll, but encouraged as they handed me their card and told me next time to "call ahead" and they would have some waiting for me.  In the meantime, I took a good look around the market.  A couple was sitting at one of two little tables, having a coffee and some ice cream.  I got the impression that they were "townies" and that Bob's was a gathering spot for some of the locals.  Bob (or at least I assume that he's Bob), gave me a tour of the place.  It seemed as if this is what life must have been like for many, many more people before the advent of the superstores and one stop shopping.  I left with a bottle of honey from Benton Harbor and a home made muffin, promising that I would soon return for the pumpkin roll.

So, this past weekend, I planned to travel up to Holland for a family reunion. Making good on my promise, I called Bob's before leaving, and they assured me that they would have pumpkin rolls waiting for me.  I couldn't have been more excited! When I arrived, I learned that they also make "lemon rolls" as well, but was told they had to be pre-ordered.  No worries there.  I purchased two pumpkin rolls, and told them I would stop on my return home on Sunday. They asked if it could be after 1:00pm, as that's when they return from Sunday church services.  It was refreshing to hear folks talk about attending church services without a flutter of embarrassment.  That's the way it should be.  I purchased a home-made pistachio muffin for the road, which Bob happily offered to warm up for me, and I went on my way.  By the way, it was the best pistachio muffin I have ever had!

On Sunday, heading south out of Holland, I decided, instead of hopping onto the 196 expressway, that I would instead take the old Blue Star Highway down through Harbor Country.  This portion of US 31 is most probably the route taken in days of old when folks wanted to travel down to Chicago.  It parallels, for a good part, the shores of Lake Michigan, and goes through Saugatuck, Douglas, Glenn, South Haven, Covert and into Hagar Township.  After my short visit to Bob's Barn the day before, I was curious to see what life was like off of the expressway. I was not disappointed.  First of all, there is minimal traffic.  I was not hurried from behind.  It was a gorgeous day, and there was still a spot of color on the trees bordering the winding highway.  Driving along, I noted the many shops and markets where people grow their own food.  There are countless quaint antique stores along the way with their wares stocked up outside in the fronts of their shops.  There are small, beach front motels that really are called "The Shangri-lah" and "Breezy Acres" and the "Lakeshore Motel".  And, as I expected, there are countless farmer's markets, both small, such as Bob's, and larger ones, like Earl's, pictured above. Many are closed for the season such as Earl's, because we had our first snows on Friday, and so the berry season is long over.  I imagine, also, that many small businesses rely on the throngs of summer tourists who flock to the shore, for much of their trade. The markets still open are offering apples and apple products from their orchards.  I picked up a big jug of apple cider and a couple of apples from Dee's, and had a nice chat with the owners.  I was telling them that I much preferred fresh produce from the source and, obviously, the home-made apple cider, which is always so much tastier than what you pick up in the supermarket.  The ladies responded that it was gratifying, but affirmed the obvious--self sustaining businesses are very hard work.  I can't even imagine...

Dee's


I drove slowly through the neighborhoods around  Saugatuck, where homes are not cookie cutter carbon copies of one another.  There are, sadly in my opinion, too many new developments going up around the lake shore area; consisting of very expensive homes in gated communities.  However, expensive they may be, there is in them, no charm or originality.  These older homes actually have front porches!  I wonder, do people still sit there in the summer, drinking lemonade, listening to the baseball game, and waving to the neighbors as they stroll by, as we used to do many years ago?  It seems so, in these smaller towns and communities.  These are large, older homes with enormous yards for kids to play in, and huge trees and gravel driveways.  The lawns, while beautiful, are not pristinely and uniformly mowed by a landscaping service that has been hired by some home owner's association.  Fallen leaves lie about on the grass, actually allowing us to realize that it is autumn.  Somehow, I can't imagine a neighbor charging over to complain that there are a few leaves about.

I approached a large curve in the road and was treated to the site of a gas station that did not sprout a Shell, BP or even Marathon sign.  Big Curve gas station looks as if it came out of the 50s or 60s.  Pristine and unique, with sort of an art-deco flair, I could almost envision the attendant coming out in his clean, white overalls, checking my oil and cleaning my windshield.  Alas, it was a self-serve station, but it was refreshing to see an independent proprietor along this route.  Somehow, it seemed to fit in better with the general lifestyle off the expressway.  

Along the drive, there are numerous restaurants and diners.  You will not find McDonald's or TGI Friday's along the Blue Star Highway.  You will find places such as The Blue Moon Bar and Grill, the Blue Star Grill,  and, my personal favorite, the What Not Inn.     

                                
Another type of business very prevalent in this area are the antique or gift shops.  Many seem to be run out of the owners' actual homes.  They are quaint and inviting, and it is difficult to drive on by.  I would suspect that business slows quite a bit when the snows fall.  Despite Michigan being a winter sports paradise, I would guess that more people roam about Harbor Country in the summer and autumn than in the winter, and it makes me wonder how these folks get by during the long frigid months from December to April.


Of course, not all of the businesses are small.  You'll come across the large flea markets, held inside the big red barns.  These are conglomerations of small business owners, who bring there wares to a central place, offering "one stop shopping" to the consumers.  Still, by shopping at these places, you're supporting the small business owners in the area.  This one below even has a theater attached.


As I wended my way farther south, I realized that I was going to arrive at Bob's for the long awaited lemon roll well before 1:00pm.  I came across a beautiful conservatory.  There wasn't a single car in the little gravel parking lot.  I pulled in, and I and my sidekick Zip took a stroll through a beautiful, pristine, wooded area.  It was an unbelievably gorgeous, if not chilly, day, and I think that both of us enjoyed wandering along the paths.  At one point, I realized that I had not been keeping track of our directions.  There were many paths, going off in all different directions.  Fortunately, we were able to find our way, eventually, back to the little lot.  It had been a magnificent day, but I was thinking about the lemon roll awaiting me at Bob's.





I wound up back at Bob's Barn about 12:45 and they were already open.  Bob was still wearing his suit from church. His wife produced the promised lemon roll, and then helpfully added that she had made another if I was interested.  I thought long and hard, but opted instead for one lemon roll and a home-made pineapple upside-down pie.  I picked up a few honey crisp apples, and said my goodbyes with the promise of returning soon.  

Bob's Barn
I would imagine that the advent of the mega-stores and supermarkets have made life more difficult for folks who have small businesses such as the ones along the Blue Star Highway.  I am not against those stores.  Meijer's one stop idea was probably a godsend for people such as my mother, who was trying to shop for a family of seven.  Being able to pick up everything in one place definitely was a time-saver for busy parents, and, admittedly, the food tends to be less expensive as well.  But I can tell you that I never had a lemon or pumpkin roll from Meijer's that tasted as good as the ones from Bob's Barn.  And I have never, ever seen a pistachio muffin for sale at Meijer's either.  Even more importantly, I think, is the conversation.  In just two trips to Bob's Barn, I learned quite a bit not only about the proprietors, but also about the Township and the area.  When you go into a Meijer's or a Lowe's or a Walmart, you don't often meet people and have a chat with them.  You don't find out where the food or produce comes from, and you certainly don't meet the folks who made the items you're purchasing. With the dissolution of these small businesses, came the dissolution of the notion of the neighborhood.  Somehow, sacrificing that for convenience's sake doesn't seem to be a fair trade.

As I walked out of Bob's with my bag in hand, I looked down and noted that she had placed my purchases in a plastic bag from Meijer's!  Well, what goes around, comes around!  I had a little chuckle at that.

We always seem to be in a hurry, but, every once in awhile, I would urge you to slow down, and get off the expressway.  You might be really surprised and pleased at what you find beyond the beltway.

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