A Road Trip from Maryland to Michigan
There’s a special kind of freedom that comes with a road trip—windows down, playlists rolling, and the open road unfolding before you. My latest journey took me from the historic streets of Annapolis, Maryland to the quiet charm of Northern Michigan, spread out over two days with a series of powerful and scenic stops in between.
Stop 1: Harpers Ferry National Historical Park
My first stop of the day was Harpers Ferry, a small 19th-century town tucked into the hills of West Virginia, where the Potomac and Shenandoah Rivers meet in a dramatic, misty confluence. It’s hard to overstate how much history is packed into this tiny place. Driving in feels like rolling back time—steep streets, brick buildings, and old iron railings all clinging to the hillside.
This site played a key role in multiple chapters of American history, from the founding era to the Civil War and the Civil Rights Movement. It was here, in 1859, that abolitionist John Brown led a daring but doomed raid on the federal armory in an attempt to ignite a slave uprising. Though the raid failed and Brown was captured by forces led by Robert E. Lee, it shocked the nation and accelerated the march toward civil war.
I started my visit with a walk across the Winchester and Potomac Railroad Bridge, which now serves as a pedestrian path with stunning river views. Standing there, with the waters of two great rivers colliding beneath my feet and layers of history all around me, I felt like I was standing in a living crossroads of America
A quick wander into Lower Town brought me face-to-face with preserved buildings like the Confectionery, which once sold sweets to both soldiers and townsfolk in the 1800s. Even a short visit to Harpers Ferry leaves an impression—of bravery, struggle, and the kind of history that isn’t just learned, but felt.
Stop 2: Antietam National Battlefield
From Harpers Ferry, I drove just over an hour north to Antietam National Battlefield in Sharpsburg, Maryland. It’s a peaceful rural area now, with rolling farmland, quiet roads, and open skies—but that tranquility masks the fact that it was once the site of the bloodiest single day in American history. On September 17, 1862, the Battle of Antietam raged here, leaving 23,000 soldiers killed, wounded, or missing in just 12 hours of fighting.
The battle was a pivotal moment in the Civil War. Though tactically inconclusive, it ended General Robert E. Lee’s first invasion of the North and gave President Abraham Lincoln the political confidence to issue the preliminary Emancipation Proclamation. In that sense, Antietam marked a shift—not just in military momentum, but in the moral direction of the war.
I started at the Visitor Center, where the exhibits and short film helped paint a vivid picture of the battle’s scope and stakes. From there, I followed the self-guided driving tour through key locations across the battlefield.
At Bloody Lane, a sunken road where Confederate troops were entrenched, I stepped out of the car and walked the path that saw some of the most intense and gruesome fighting. The path is lined with interpretive signs and monuments, but it’s the stillness of the place that gets to you—the silence feels thick, like the land hasn’t forgotten.
I climbed the Observation Tower next, a stone structure offering panoramic views of the battlefield’s expanse. It’s one of the few places you can fully grasp the scale of the terrain and how geography shaped the battle’s outcome.
My last stop was Burnside Bridge, a serene stone bridge over Antietam Creek, now surrounded by wildflowers and rustling trees. Union troops made repeated—and deadly—attempts to cross it during the battle. Today, it’s almost hard to imagine such violence occurring in a place so beautiful. That contrast is what makes Antietam so powerful: it reminds you how easily peaceful places can become witnesses to human tragedy.
Stop 3: Flight 93 National Memorial
After leaving Antietam, I headed northwest into the hills of southwestern Pennsylvania—about a two-hour drive—to visit a place of much more recent, but equally powerful, historical significance: the Flight 93 National Memorial. Set amid open fields and quiet ridgelines near Shanksville, this memorial honors the 40 passengers and crew members of United Airlines Flight 93, who fought back against hijackers on September 11, 2001, preventing an attack on the U.S. Capitol.
There’s something profoundly still about this site. Unlike the other 9/11 memorials in New York and Washington, the rural setting gives it a different kind of intimacy—raw, open, and deeply personal. I began at the Visitor Center, where exhibits tell the timeline of that morning: how the passengers learned of the other attacks, how they made calls to their loved ones, and how they chose to act. Listening to those stories in the very place where their courage played out was deeply moving.
From there, I followed the Flight Path Walkway to the Wall of Names, a long row of white marble panels—one for each of the 40 heroes. The path follows the actual trajectory the plane took in its final seconds. At the end lies the impact site, now marked with a simple boulder in a grassy field. You can’t get close, but that distance feels appropriate. It preserves the sacredness of the site.
Before I left, I made one final stop at the Tower of Voices, a striking 93-foot-tall structure that houses 40 wind chimes—each representing one life lost. When the wind picks up, the tower sings. It’s not a melody you’ll hum later, but one you’ll remember deep in your bones. Visiting Flight 93 wasn’t easy—but it was necessary. It reminded me that courage comes in many forms, and that even in the darkest moments, people can rise.
Day 2: From Tigers to Timberland—Crossing Michigan
The next morning, I made my way to the Toledo Zoo, one of the best-rated zoos in the Midwest and the perfect place to start the day with something lighthearted. The Toledo Zoo is impressively laid out and packed with everything from polar bears to hippos. After a few hours, it was time to hit the road again—this time for the long haul through Michigan.
The drive from Toledo to Cheboygan is just under five hours, stretching across the length of the mitten-shaped state. I watched the landscape change from city highways to forest-lined roads, small lakes glinting in the afternoon sun. It’s a scenic ride, especially once you’re north of Grayling and heading into Michigan’s "up north" country. Rolling green forests and quiet roadside towns begin to dominate the view, and there’s a kind of mental exhale that happens as you near Lake Huron’s edge.
A Week in Cheboygan: Northern Michigan's Quiet Gem
Located on the shores of Lake Huron and the Cheboygan River, it’s a gateway to Michigan’s quiet north. One of my first stops was the Cheboygan Crib Rear Light, a quirky little lighthouse structure you can walk to along the pier. It’s one of the few inland range lights still standing, and if you catch it at sunset, the light reflects off the water in spectacular fashion
Another way to soak in Cheboygan’s peaceful charm is to stroll along the Cheboygan River Walk. This scenic path follows the waterway through town, offering views of passing boats, wildflowers, and even the occasional bald eagle overhead. There are benches scattered throughout, making it a perfect spot for reading, journaling, or just slowing down.
Despite its size, Cheboygan offers a handful of local gems—a historical opera house, quaint cafés, and quiet beach spots perfect for a picnic or skipping stones. There’s a deep sense of local pride here. People wave from their porches, recommend their favorite fishing holes, and always have a story to share. It’s a place to unwind, reflect, and get lost in the natural rhythm of life near the Great Lakes. I’ll be staying here a week before hopping over to Mackinac Island.