August 7, 2021
Petoskey, MI
I say Pet”oh”skey, you say Pet”ah”skey. Honestly, we’re probably both wrong. What I do know about Petoskey is that as soon as I enter city limits I move at half-speed. We stop downtown first for coffee and food (breakfast burritos). We end up wondering around long enough that I need to stop for a cinnamon roll. Ok, so I literally could always stop for a cinnamon roll. But how am I supposed to resist a recipe passed down generationally over 100 years?!? Exactly. I am not.
Before heading to the not-so-dog-friendly state park, we head a few minutes north to a dog beach to get some Gob-zoomies out. He has great fun wading in the water and saying hello to other doggies. Mason decides he and Gob will hang out while I go do the 1-2 mile hike that Gob is not allowed on.
So off to the state park I go. I drive to the beach first, just to take a look. It is crowded. I snap a single picture from the edge of the parking lot. My hike will eventually take me to a (hopefully) less crowded section of beach by the campground.
Now at the trailhead, I start up Old Baldy. Lots of steps and a dune forest later, I come to the anti-climatic summit. If it hadn’t been for a bench and picnic table, I probably wouldn’t have realized it was the top.
This brings me to my favorite part of any dune hike. Running down from the top. I am soaring. My feet barely brush the sand path. I cannot help but giggle as I come to a stop at the bottom.
I regain my composure and enter the forest on the other side of the street, starting the campground trail to the beach.
I descend another dune and find myself on the beach. As I had hoped, it was much less crowded than the main swim beach. Boats bobbed at the shoreline. Small clusters of people dotted the shore. Petoskey stones littered the ground.
I walked until I reached the far campground. Checking my watch, I realized how slowly I had been moving. The Petoskey curse strikes again. I climb back out of the dunes, and back into the forest, heading back to the car via the portage trail. My two miles that I thought would take no more than an hour has taken me almost an hour and a half.
As I suspect, I return to the dog park and Mason accuses me of being a Petoskey-butt. Our endearing term meaning lazy or pokey that we coined our first visit to Petoskey some 4 years ago. I tell him he is right. Somehow it is already 3 pm. We load up the car and head to our next destination.
Interested in checking out this park? Find out more here!
Check out my other Michigan State Park adventures!
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