Traverse City Sets the Table

Traverse City sits at the foot of Grand Traverse Bay with two peninsulas running north of it like tines, both of them planted, and the town at the bottom eats what they grow. Cherries built the place and still crowd the July calendar, but the regulars aim for late August through October, when the peaches and apples come in, the vineyards start picking, and the farm stands on every county road are at full strength. Everything below assumes two or three nights with a car.

Stay downtown if the point of the trip is the eating, since the best of it is within a few walkable blocks of Front Street, or out on one of the peninsulas if the point is the quiet. Fall weekends book solidly through mid-October for the color, so reserve well ahead, and note that midweek rates drop the moment the summer families go back to school.

The town's kitchens sit unusually close to their suppliers, and the menus read like the county fair premium list, whitefish from the bay, pork and vegetables from the farms south of town, fruit from the peninsulas. Downtown holds enough good rooms that a long weekend cannot cover them, so choose two dinners and book them, then let lunch happen wherever the morning ends. The bakeries and the coffee roasters carry the early hours, and the pie is taken seriously here in a way that repays the visitor who takes it seriously back.

Old Mission Peninsula runs eighteen miles up the middle of the bay with water on both sides, a lighthouse at the tip, and wineries strung along the ridge road, and the drive is the classic afternoon. Leelanau, the larger peninsula to the west, adds the fishing villages and the dunes country beyond, with Sleeping Bear rising over Lake Michigan an easy day trip away. In either direction, stop at the farm stands, most of them on the honor system, and buy more fruit than seems sensible.

The harvest here is a rolling event, cherries in July, peaches in late August, grapes and apples from September into October, and the town's mood follows it. The color on the peninsulas peaks in the second week of October most years, when the vineyards go gold against the blue of the bay, and the regulars consider that fortnight the finest of the calendar.

Rent the car, since the whole point is the country around the town, and designate a driver for the ridge road, since the tasting rooms are generous and the road is narrow. Book October weekends far ahead, bring a cooler for the farm stands, and check the festival calendar so you can choose your relationship to the crowds deliberately.

End the trip on the beach downtown at sunset, a five minute walk from dinner, with the bay going copper and the peninsulas dark on the horizon. The farmers are done for the day too.