Photo: Daniel | Digital Art: Stephanie Thwaites
Story By: Shane Higgins
No group of people in the world is as unfazed by a long drive as Midwesterners. We’ll road trip to Florida, New York, and even the Rockies. California seems a bit too far, but if you make a long vacation out of it, the drive might be worth it. When you’re on the road for 4+ hours, though, you do start to wonder, “Maybe I should’ve looked at plane tickets.” Despite your airport arrival being 2 hours before takeoff, you might be there already. Then you think about the price of a rental car, and driving makes more sense again. As long as the company you keep is people you enjoy being around, it’s no big deal.
However, there’s no easy way to get to the Keweenaw in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula (UP). Most airports don’t offer flights to Houghton, MI. Good luck renting a car that’s ready for the lake effect storm you’re chasing. The drive from almost any populated area is at least 6 hours. From Grand Rapids, MI, my drive is 9. That’s why I have the Pow Hunter: the minivan turned road-trip-sleeping-quarters crafted for this exact purpose. Cold lake effect storms blanket the Keweenaw in the best powder the Midwest has to offer. After an exceptional start to the 2025 ski season, a decent storm was on the radar in mid-February. Mount Bohemia’s snowpack was great; it’s rare that 100% of their terrain is open, and that was days before the storm. By Wednesday, the forecast had 6-8” of snowfall Friday night through Saturday afternoon. These could be some high-quality pow days. This is our chance for a proper Keweenaw strike mission.
Photo: Shane Higgins
The amount of ground you have to cover to get to the Keweenaw Peninsula from nearly anywhere is mind-boggling. From the lower peninsula of Michigan, you have one route: the Mackinac Bridge. By 6:30 PM in February, the sun has already set as you approach the bridge. You drive over 5 miles of icy grates in near complete darkness, spanning the straits with Lake Michigan on one side, Huron on the other. The wind blows, pulling the van in either direction. You wouldn’t last long in the water below – it’s mostly iced over. Just keep driving, you’ll be in the UP soon enough.
There’s a magical feeling that can’t quite be described when you start driving through the UP. It’s not just the wilderness, but the changing wilderness. You see…rocks? Boulders? Dare I say the remnants of mountains in eons past? As you continue west, the quartz sands of Lake Michigan’s eastern coast are here on the lake’s northern coastline as well. Great sand dunes made taller and greater by the ever-increasing amount of snow. The longer you drive, the more snow you see along the sides of the road.
Photo: Shane Higgins
You know you can make it to Marquette with the gas you have, but the Seney Stretch, the longest length of straight road east of the Mississippi River, seems like it will never ever end. God forbid the snowstorm you’re so desperately chasing hits the Stretch. You might just be stuck going 15mph, relying on the flashers of the car in front of you, the only thing your eyes can discern in the white wall in front of you. Even then, if that car is just an extra 10ft ahead, you might lose sight of it. You might just come out on the other end and see a “Road Closed” sign with a state trooper directing traffic away from the road you so narrowly escaped through (which is exactly how the trip home played out). If only they had closed the road before you started driving on it, not during. Taking a more southern route only adds about 30 minutes and would have saved you the white knuckled stress.
By 8:30 PM, you’re in Munising. The harrowing drive is not over yet; you’re only 2/3rds of the way there, though the roads you drive from here on out will be much better. People live in Munising, Marquette, Houghton, and thankfully, they clear the road more often than they do in the wilderness that spans the majority of the UP’s interior. There’s nothing to do on these stretches of road but chat, change up the music, and most importantly, check the forecast. You find ‘good’ news – they’ve upgraded the rest of your drive to a winter storm warning.
Photo: Shane Higgins
Just after 9 PM, you finally stop and get gas in Marquette. You’ve been in the van for so long that you’ve aged a day driving through the Seney Stretch; surely, there must be just moments before tonight’s destination. You’re wrong, though. You’ve got nearly 3 hours until you reach the promised land. At this point, the updated forecast is the only thing keeping you from regretting this drive. As you leave the gas station, with snow falling steadily from the pitch-black sky, you can’t help but notice – there’s even more snow on the roadsides. You realize that it hasn’t stopped snowing since you crossed the bridge. It’s really picked up between Munising and Marquette, driving along Superior’s southern shore. You check the forecast again, and they are now calling for 10-12” from now until Sunday morning. As if the Mother Superior knows what you’re searching for, you can’t help but smile, smirk, and gush over the new forecast. This is shaping up to be quite the weekend.
By the time you reach Houghton, 2 hours later, the snow is almost as tall as the stop signs. You often can’t see cars or the front doors of houses because the residents have been busy all season clearing 200+” of snow. As the lake effect picks up again, you’re inching closer to your destination. You can’t help but get excited. Will this be a Boho weekend for the record books? They’re pushing 300” of snow this season. They got a foot of snow last week. The forecast that spurred this strike mission has changed again. Wednesday’s forecast convinced you that this drive could be worth it. They’re now forecasting 18”-24” during this storm. The winter storm warning has now been extended to Sunday morning. Any doubts about the worthiness of this drive have been erased. These could be some all-time pow days.
As you pull into the park and ride, the snow won’t stop; it’s the fluffiest you’ve seen since you were shredding in Hokkaido a month ago. Will these next few days compare? Are you setting yourself up for disappointment? The thought of how much snow you’ll need to brush off the van in the morning has you struggling to fall asleep.
This is the adult version of Christmas Eve. Hopefully you’ll wake up to at least a 4” blanket of snow, your present from Mother Superior.
Saturday morning comes. You crack the door of the van, and a heap of the fluffiest snow you’ve seen in a while falls on the bed. Merry Christmas. You rush to brush the snow off the van and fight your way through the fresh, still falling snow and over the bridge in Houghton. The Keweenaw Peninsula is actually an island; the geography nerd inside you is reminding you of just how special this place is.
It’s only 40 miles to Mount Bohemia, but you must get breakfast at Cafe Rosetta in Calumet. The omelet and Pannu Kakku will fill you up; you can’t take a lunch break on a day like this. You’ll eat something on the chair or Boho’s backcountry bus; you’ll figure it out.
The last 30 minutes of the drive are excruciating. You’ve been driving for 8.5 hours, you got a full night’s sleep in that same vehicle, and you’ve had 3 cups of coffee. The impossible seems to be happening here; the driveway mounds of snow are now noticeably taller than their ranch homes. The stop signs and street signs are now fully buried in snow, having been dug out time and time again after the snowplow buried them. You know the lake effect pow is going to live up to the hype you’ve been building in your mind for the last few days. Chairs spin at 9:30 AM; you’ve got no time to waste.
As you pull into the parking lot at Mount Bohemia, it’s clear this cold, cold lake effect storm has delivered the goods. It’s light, it’s fluffy, and there’s at least 8” of the fresh stuff. Your favorite pow stashes in Lower Haunted Valley, The Shire, and The Outer Limits will be DEEP. It’s not Japan, but this truly is as close as you’ll get in the Great Lakes, and on this weekend, maybe all of North America. And you’ve got 3 days to soak in all the glory. You’re more than ready to ride as hard as you can. This is quite literally what you trained for. The weeks in the gym and surfing Lake Michigan are the best ways to prepare for a weekend like this.
Photo: Shane Higgins
You know you’ll be quite exhausted at the end of each day, but the healing properties of the spa will get you ready to do it all over again. The cozy bar, the saunas, the float tank, the joints you sneak by the fire pit, the pizza cabana in the center of it all. It should be considered a winter oasis. It’s the perfect end to these perfect 0-degree pow days. The rotation of hot tub-cold plunge-sauna will have you sleeping like a baby. You’ll be ready for tomorrow.
It’s still snowing, by the way. It hasn’t stopped. You check the forecast again as you put your swim trunks on, and you’re met with delight. They’ve extended the winter storm warning by another day, and after more than a foot has already fallen, they’re predicting another 12”-16” for the remainder of your time here.
I’m not a writer. I can’t adequately explain what it’s like to float on the snow, winding through trees in knee-deep powder. 3 days in a real-life snow globe. I won’t bother trying.
But goddamn was it worth the drive.
