Day 33: Say Ya to Da UP
Fudge, pasties, and smoked fish. In the last two hours we have seen around 50 signs (no kidding) for all of these delicacies. We are obviously in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, aka the U.P. This is a far away land, with few cities and many trees, where the locals call themselves Yoopers. (To learn more I could ask my friend Ray, who’s a native son, though he currently lives in Brooklyn, NY.)
In case you are wondering, a pastie is a meat pie - you were thinking of those little circles that strippers wear, weren’t you? As for fudge, you know what that is, but you cannot grasp the quantities in which it is sold to tourists. We stopped in Mackinaw City, the gateway to the UP and the epicenter of the burgeoning fudge industry. On the main street, there were at least six fudge shops. Outside one we witnessed this exchange:
Woman #1: Joann’s Fudge is the best in Michigan.
Woman #2: How do you know?
Woman #1: That’s what their sign said.
I admire their lack of cynicism. Surprisingly, we did not see a corresponding number of gyms or liposuction clinics, but extra insulation does help you survive a long winter.
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