Idlewild, Jones Ice Cream, and a Quiet Forest Night

Some days are just travel days, and today was one of those. Jessi had mapped out the perfect backroads route to Baldwin, a stop-off point on my way to Traverse City.

I made a quick stop at Planet Fitness a few miles away and grabbed a shower. The place was already humming at 8 a.m. on a Sunday — people getting after it early.

One thing about Google Maps on the iPhone — you can’t tweak the route like you can in a browser. You can drop in points of interest, but you can’t force it to follow your dream backroads drive. So I picked a few spots and mostly ignored them while sticking to Jessi’s directions.

Terror on 27

The first point was “Terror on 27.” I saw it up ahead, turned off onto a side road, and parked for about an hour to make breakfast and have some coffee. Not a single car passed that whole time — grass growing up through the road cracks told me all I needed to know. Something about the place felt off. I couldn’t bring myself to actually park right there at Terror on 27. It looked abandoned — maybe it is.

I’d see plenty more abandoned buildings before the day was over. I kept following Jessi’s route through empty stretches and ghost roads, eventually rolling into Idlewild.

Idlewild: Michigan’s Historic Black Resort Haven

Tucked away in the woods of Lake County, Michigan, Idlewild was once known as the “Black Eden.” Back in 1912, a group of white investors started selling land to African Americans who were looking for a place to vacation and own property at a time when segregation kept them out of most resorts.

By the 1920s through the 1960s, Idlewild had turned into a buzzing getaway for Black families from all over the Midwest. This place was packed in the summers — cabins, hotels, restaurants, and clubs sprang up everywhere, but the Flamingo Club was the heartbeat of it all. Top acts like Aretha Franklin, Della Reese, Sarah Vaughan, B.B. King, Cab Calloway, the Four Tops, and Jackie Wilson all performed here. The nights were long and the music didn’t stop until dawn.

I spent a few hours driving around Idlewild. You can’t really call it a “town” — everything is spread out under the pines and around the lake. I stopped to take photos of all the buildings that are still standing. Some of them look like they’re barely hanging on, but they carry so much history. The visitor’s center was closed when I was there, but there was a big map out front. I snapped a picture of that and used it with Google Maps to find my way around. There are signs all over pointing out what used to be where — the clubs, hotels, cottages, and churches that made Idlewild come alive every summer.

Today, Idlewild is much quieter, but its legacy as a place of freedom and fun still echoes through those old buildings and pine-lined roads. Some people still gather here every year to remember what this place meant — a slice of paradise that Black families could call their own.

Baldwin, Michigan

Baldwin is a tiny town tucked into the trees and lakes, mostly one main street with the county seat building right in the center. The road splits and curves around it like a river around a rock. I stopped for gas and remembered there was an ice cream place I’d heard about — Jones Ice Cream.

Jones Ice Cream - est. 1942

I lucked out with street parking right out front, which was surprising given the line out the door. By the time I got up to the entrance, the line had already shrunk. I asked a woman standing just inside if she was waiting too. “Nope, just for our order,” she said. I asked if it was worth the wait — she told me she always stops here on her way to see her mom. Her mom was with her, nodding along. She swore it was the best ice cream ever.

I ordered two scoops — Black Cherry and Vanilla in a cup. Paid with Apple Pay and grabbed a seat at the counter. According to the sign outside, they’ve been serving since 1942 and haven’t stopped since. Whoever owns this place has figured it out. It really was some of the best ice cream I’ve had — rich flavors, super creamy, dense, and thick. I wasn’t even sure I’d want dinner later.

Huron-Manistee National Forests

It was past five when I left Baldwin and aimed for a spot in the Huron-Manistee National Forests about an hour northwest, closer to the coast. The Boondocking app showed a place with GPS coordinates 44.110578, -86.400922. Easy drive until the last quarter mile of bumpy road. The spot was taken, but there was another just up the path. I pulled in, opened the side door, and let the cool forest air roll through the van. The sun dropped low, lighting up the trees across the clearing.

I sat and wrote for a while and then tried to drift off. Total silence — not a sound anywhere. Calm.