We crossed into the upper peninsula of Michigan about 11 a.m., crossing the Mackinac Bridge.

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No, we didn’t really take a subway to Mackinac Island, but we did eat at one. Subway has recently begun offering personal pizzas, meaning that we can move the chain up to “kids will eat here without undue whining” status. Lunch was filling, if not spectacular, and most importantly, speedy.

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We parked in the Shepler’s Line lot (45.874432,-84.728661) and caught the 12:00 ferry from St. Ignace to Mackinac Island. We sailed on the Welcome and did not, to Katherine’s gratification, sink into Lake Huron (or, indeed, any other lake). The trip was as sugarplum a dance as it could be without actually having Tchaikovsky on board.

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We were warned about the traffic along Mackinac Island’s main street, and they weren’t kidding. Within three minutes, we were almost flattened by a luggage cart, a tandem bicycle, and two horse-drawn carriages. We escaped with our lives and dignity intact and took the next step: locating the carriage ride office. This was no easy task, given that we only surmised that it was somewhere on Main Street and that we were surrounded by clutches of people who—in full tourist mode—had forgotten that other people might need to use the sidewalk.

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