The northern part of Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore along the shores of Good Harbor Bay is one of Mulherin’s favorite places.
Author Tim Mulherin
By Tim Mulherin
For the past two months I’ve been interviewing a host of people in northwest lower Michigan for a book concerning the impact of the pandemic and climate change on the region, as well as the increasing pressure from tourism, and how economic and population growth can be optimally balanced with environmental conservation. I’ve spoken with a wide range of professionals including realtors, developers, politicians, public safety experts (e.g., representatives of the United States Coast Guard and Leelanau County Sheriff’s Office), retailers, members of the Grand Traverse Band of Ottawa and Chippewa Indians, and leaders of local environmental organizations such as the Grand Traverse Regional Land Conservancy, Saving Birds Thru Habitat, the Watershed Center Grand Traverse Bay, and FLOW.
One question I ask of every interviewee is, what do you love most about living and working in the region? Although there are unique variations in the responses, there is always one predictable central word: water.
The inland sea, Lake Michigan, has a profound effect on everyone who encounters it for the first time.
I first laid eyes on Grand Traverse Bay in 1986. I was living in Indianapolis, and a friend who encouraged me to enroll in college at the “advanced” age of 26 invited me to come Up North for the first time upon my graduation four years later. I’ll never forget my initial exposure to the bay. I was driving west on M-72 from Kalkaska. As I crested a hill while nearing Acme, the expanse of the bay suddenly appeared. I pulled my car over, got out, and took in its stunning beauty. As a flatlander living in central Indiana where the glaciers had worn the terrain nearly bowling alley-smooth, I was totally enchanted by Grand Traverse Bay and its surrounding hillsides. The inland sea, Lake Michigan, has a profound effect on everyone who encounters it for the first time. Soon after, many start thinking about how to relocate to the area, whether ASAP or eventually as part of the “Silver Tsunami.” It’s completely understandable—for better and for worse.
Last week, I interviewed several experts from FLOW, including senior policy advisor Dave Dempsey and FLOW’s founder and senior legal advisor Jim Olson. Both enlightened me about the many threats to the Great Lakes while commenting on the specter of climate change. My conversation with Jim was, frankly, sobering. He characterized climate change as “the predominant force on the planet right now in terms of human impact.” Jim went on to say, “We’re existentially facing the end of the planet and severe suffering by our children and grandchildren.”
One question I ask of every interviewee is, what do you love most about living and working in the region? Although there are unique variations in the responses, there is always one predictable central word: water.
Now, thanks to what I’m learning from these environmental champions, I’m finally paying full attention to climate change—which is undoubtedly the highest stakes issue of our time. Simultaneously, my appreciation for the Great Lakes and what they mean to all living things that rely upon them is rising exponentially. I may be 66 years old, but it’s never too late to have one’s consciousness raised and to become extremely protective of this freshwater treasure—something we play in and on, drink from, and largely take for granted—and to recruit more “water warriors” to the cause.
If you ever have any questions about how vital and fragile the Great Lakes are and how climate change is impacting the region, our friends at FLOW will give you a straight answer, one that’s as hard to hear as it is hopeful and inspiring.
I may be 66 years old, but it’s never too late to have one’s consciousness raised and to become extremely protective of this freshwater treasure—something we play in and on, drink from, and largely take for granted—and to recruit more “water warriors” to the cause.
Tim Mulherin is the author of Sand, Stars, Wind, & Water: Field Notes from Up North, a nonfiction collection of stories and essays about his outdoor adventures in northern Michigan over the past 36 years. He can be reached at timmulherin@sbcglobal.net.
