Written by Matt Backer
Many folks might be surprised to hear that both surfing and wine production are even possible in Michigan. This common misperception fuels a sort of gritty, underdog mentality amongst the state’s local surfers and wine producers. Overcoming inherent climatic challenges like ridiculously frigid winters and windblown lakes creates a certain toughness and pride, which helps shape the character of the region and its people.
Our initial plan for the day had been to head north in search of surf after our winery stop. However, while sipping on local rieslings, blue skies were suddenly replaced by dark menacing clouds, followed by an intense downpour. Due to the rapid change in conditions, we reassessed the situation and decided our best hope of waves was actually westward. Shortly thereafter, we took off, first through a quickly passing hailstorm, then past farmlands, forested lakes, and finally towards the fishing village of Frankfort.
I have come to realize that there is a common thread between surfing and wine that gives me joy. I love geography, looking at maps, and exploring different terrain. Geographical dependency is inherent to both surf and grape growing. A large cove with a rocky point may help smooth out energetic waves from a wintry storm, and similarly, a surrounding ridge of trees may provide enough shelter to block the wind and provide a peaceful environment for grapes and other plants to grow. In the wine world, there is talk of ‘microclimates’ impacted by mountain chains, wind direction, cloud layers, and bodies of water. The vernacular may be different, but these same ideas apply to surf breaks; the reason why a particular swell might align with the coast perfectly in one spot, but a mile down the road, the effect is strikingly different.
Photo by Samantha Demangate
By the time we arrived in Frankfort 75 minutes later, after passing through dozens of midwestern microclimates, the day had once again become beautiful, a warming summer humidity balanced by the ocean breeze. As I looked out at the lineup, I saw a lighthouse perched along the far edge of the jetty to the left and a long stretch of dune cliffs to the right. A solid crew of surfers was catching consistently chest high sets, an occasional runner connecting to the inside. There was barely a wetsuit in the lineup, as the warm water and air could have almost been confused with Hawaii. The stoke and smile levels in the water were high, as surfable waves like these are a relative rarity in Michigan during the summer.
Photos by Matt Backer
After several hours in the water, we wandered up to a local brewery and treated ourselves to a cold, refreshing brew. We returned to my friend’s farmhouse abode near sundown, where we proceeded to fire-roast neighbor-sourced steaks and corn cobs on the backyard campfire, while the moon and stars brightly illuminated the sky above.
I think having a journey with at least a bit of imperfection or spontaneity makes it more meaningful and memorable. A hailstorm; a surf session filled with warm Great Lake waves; a feast of slightly charred, hyperlocal food washed down with an earnest Michigan red; and relishing the magic of a late summer evening with friends around a fire.
Now that’s a day I won’t forget.