Northern State of Mind: The Ultimate Upper Midwest Roadtrip Guide

As I stood outside on my first night in Duluth, Minnesota, shivering from the biting cold of a November Gale, I couldn’t help but feel like I was the only person left on the planet. 

The only sound was the wind howling through the bare trees, and a distant freighter’s horn cutting its warning through the brutally cold wind. No planes, no helicopters, no sirens: just silence and an overwhelming sense of calm. It was a feeling that words can hardly describe, but it’s a feeling that everyone who appreciates the outdoors must experience for themselves. 

I’m not sure what I expected when I embarked on this journey, but the Upper Midwest proved to me that I still know so very little about the country I have called home for 42 years. It turns out that the generous people of Minnesota and Michigan carelessly let me in on a grand secret, and now I can’t stop talking about it. 

The secret is that the Upper Midwest offers a life-affirming spirit of culture, food, kindness, and natural beauty that will make you dream about returning before you even leave. 

Here’s how to make the most out of your visit to Minnesota and Michigan. 

To make the most of your journey, you’ll want to start in Minneapolis / St. Paul and wind your way up Interstate 35 to Duluth, Minnesota. This city on the verge of transformation is a perfect starting point to exploring the wilds of Lake Superior and, more specifically, the North Shore. 

From Duluth, you can either follow the shoreline or take a detour through the remote stretches of Michigan's Upper Peninsula, stopping in towns like Marquette for as long as you care to wander. After experiencing the wonders of the UP, take the drive over the Mighty Mac (Mackinaw Bridge) and work your way towards Southern Michigan. 

For a perfect end to an epic road trip, spend a few days exploring the foodie mecca of Ann Arbor, home to the University of Michigan and so much more. 

Here’s everything you need to eat, drink, and experience on your journey through one of America’s great wildernesses. 

Standing on a hillside overlooking Lake Superior, it’s easy to understand why Duluth feels like another world. The wind moves through the pines with a kind of low hum, and the light over the lake shifts by the minute. You can smell the cold, clean air, the scent of wet rock and pine needles, and something else that’s harder to name. Maybe it’s the stillness, or the sense that time just moves differently here.

Duluth is where the land meets something vast. The city spills down steep streets toward the water, where ships from half a world away glide past lighthouses and breakwaters. Whether you come for a long weekend or a single day, this place has a way of staying with you.

Start the day with a quiet walk downtown and a stop at Duluth Coffee Company, where the air is filled with the smell of freshly roasted beans. The coffee here tastes like care and patience, brewed by people who clearly love what they do. It’s the kind of cup that makes you slow down and actually notice the morning light coming through the window.

From there, head north on Highway 61. The North Shore Drive unfolds in front of you, a winding stretch of road that hugs the lake and cuts through stands of pine and birch. Your first stop is Gooseberry Falls State Park, where water tumbles over dark rock into deep pools below. The sound of the falls, the cold mist rising in the air, the smell of damp forest, it’s the kind of beauty that hits you wholly but quietly.

Keep in mind that seeing Gooseberry Falls requires traversing many stairs. Trust me, it is totally worth it! 

A little farther up the coast, the Split Rock Lighthouse rises from the cliff, sharp and bright against the endless blue of Lake Superior. It has stood there for more than a century, watching over ships and storms. Standing at its base, the scale of the lake feels impossible. It looks like an ocean, but it’s something older and more unpredictable than that.

Afterward, stop at Betty’s Pies, a North Shore institution that has been serving travelers since the 1950s. Lunch is simple, maybe a slice of chicken pot pie or a burger, but dessert is what people come for. The coconut cream, the blueberry, and the five-layer chocolate - they all feel like part of the ritual of visiting this part of Minnesota.

Head back toward Duluth and take your time. The road follows the shore, dipping through small towns and quiet coves where the forest nearly touches the water. Back in the city, walk the Lakewalk and watch the freighters slide under the Aerial Lift Bridge. There’s a rhythm to it, the bridge lifting, the ship passing, the gulls calling above the waves.

Find a seat at The Broken Paddle and order a local beer. The light will start to fade by now, turning the sky gold over the harbor. Whether outside in the summer or inside in the winter, beer aficionados will find much love. 

Dinner belongs to Northern Waters Smokehaus, tucked inside the DeWitt-Seitz Marketplace. 

Smoked fish is just one of those iconic Minnesota delicacies. The food is simple but unforgettable and unique to the region. Smoked fish sandwiches, house-made cured meats, and fresh bread. The kind of meal that perfectly fits the day you’ve had: quiet, honest, and deeply Minnesotan. Try the chive cream cheese spread on crackers with fresh Lake Trout for the ultimate bite. 

Walk a few blocks to Love Creamery for dessert. The ice cream is handmade and local, with flavors like honeycomb and maple praline pecan that taste exactly like Duluth feels, sweet, real, and a little nostalgic. Take your cone down to the shore and listen to the waves roll in if the weather permits.

Onward from Duluth, it’s time to really experience the empty calmness of the North. 

Stop in Ironwood for something every traveler through the Northwoods should own, a classic Stormy Kromer hat. It’s more than just a souvenir; it’s a piece of Upper Peninsula identity, stitched with practicality and pride. The kind of thing that lasts decades and still looks right when you’re walking through snow at sunrise.

Marquette doesn’t announce itself, but this small city in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula has the kind of energy that lingers. It’s a place that makes you want to stay up late under a canopy of stars, then rise early to watch the light hit the water.

Start your day at Donckers, a Marquette institution that’s been serving locals since 1896. 

The wood floors creak, the smell of coffee fills the air, and breakfast feels like something out of time. Order the pancakes or a breakfast sandwich, then wander through the candy counter before you leave. There’s something nostalgic about the place that fits the pace of the morning perfectly.

After breakfast, take a short drive to Presque Isle Park, one of the most beautiful city parks in the country. The road loops through ancient pines and out onto Black Rocks, where the waves of Lake Superior crash against volcanic cliffs. In summer, brave souls leap into the icy water below. In fall, the wind whips through the changing leaves. 

No matter the season, it’s impossible not to feel small standing there.

Downtown, stop at Getz’s, an outdoor outfitter that’s been part of Marquette for generations. It’s the kind of store where you can pick up a new flannel, a warm jacket, or a pair of boots that will last a lifetime. The staff talk about gear the way some people talk about art, and they know the trails, the weather, and the stories behind every brand they carry.

Back in Marquette, find a seat at Ore Dock Brewing Company. The building, a restored warehouse, hums with life. Locals gather for live music, travelers trade stories, and everyone seems to have a pint in hand. The beer is local, inventive, and exactly what you want after a day spent exploring the edges of the lake. Try the award-winning Reclamation IPA or the Porter if it’s cold outside.

For dinner, go to The Delft Bistro, set inside a beautifully restored historic theater. The marquee still glows outside, and the interior blends old charm with modern comfort. The food reflects the same spirit as the city, creative but grounded. A good meal here feels both refined and unpretentious, the way Northern Michigan tends to be.

Leaving Marquette feels like closing the cover of a favorite book. The road south traces the edges of Superior one last time before bending through the thick forests of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. 

Pines, birch, and hardwoods line the highway, their branches forming a green tunnel that feels endless in summer and blinding gold in fall. The drive isn’t about speed here; it’s about rhythm, the steady hum of the tires and the sense that every mile carries you deeper into the story of the North.

Just outside of St. Ignace, stop at Lehto’s Pasties, a humble roadside shop that has been feeding travelers since 1947. The pasty, a hand pie filled with beef, potato, onion, and rutabaga, was once the lunch of miners, but here it’s a warm, flaky reminder of the region’s history. 

Eat it outside on the hood of your car, watching the traffic pass, and you’ll understand why locals say there’s no better road trip food.

A few miles later, the forest opens, and suddenly the Mackinac Bridge appears, massive, elegant, and completely surreal. Spanning five miles between the Upper and Lower Peninsulas, it rises from the mist like a gateway between two worlds. Crossing it feels both peaceful and thrilling, the lake stretching out on both sides in shades of deep blue and green.

There’s something about the bridge that captures the spirit of the entire region. It’s a connection between the wild and the familiar, between isolation and civilization, between the quiet of the woods and the hum of the highway.

By the time you reach Ann Arbor, the landscape has softened. The pines and cliffs of the Upper Peninsula give way to rolling hills and tree-lined streets, each one shaded by old oaks and maples that turn the city into a canopy of green.

Ann Arbor hums with energy, but never noise. The University of Michigan’s campus spills gracefully into the downtown, where bookstores, coffee shops, and music venues share sidewalks with century-old homes and modern cafés. 

It is cosmopolitan, but without pretense, a city that knows how to balance thought and pleasure.

Start the day like a local with a visit to one of the city’s countless coffee shops. Ann Arbor runs on caffeine and conversation. RoosRoast, Comet Coffee, and Vertex all serve up perfect cups for lingering mornings. Each place has its own rhythm, students typing, professors grading, and friends planning their next trip up north.

Grab breakfast at Zingerman’s Deli, a name that has become synonymous with Ann Arbor itself. The smell of fresh bread hits you before you open the door, and the sandwiches are stacked like architecture. It is part restaurant, part institution, and all heart.

Spend the afternoon walking through campus. The Diag, with its crisscrossing paths and students sprawled on the grass, feels like the pulse of the city. From there, wander into Nichols Arboretum, where wooded trails wind along the Huron River. In the fall, it becomes a flood of gold and orange leaves, the kind of beauty that asks for no attention yet commands it anyway.

For lunch, grab a Coney dog from one of the local diners or a bowl of noodles from Basil Babe, a beloved food truck turned brick-and-mortar that perfectly captures the city’s inventive spirit.

As night falls, the lights downtown come alive. Stop by The Blue Llama Jazz Club, one of the most intimate and inspiring venues in the Midwest. The music moves through the room like smoke, soft and warm, while the kitchen sends out beautifully crafted plates that feel like art. It is the kind of night that stays with you long after the applause fades.

If you would rather keep it casual, Ann Arbor’s beer scene is one of the best in the state. Local breweries, such as HOMES, Arbor Brewing Company, and Grizzly Peak, serve a range of beers, from experimental IPAs to dark, malty porters. It is a community that takes beer seriously but never forgets to have fun.

From the rocky cliffs of Duluth to the quiet harbors of Marquette, across the windswept span of the Mackinac Bridge, and into the tree-lined streets of Ann Arbor, the Upper Midwest feels like a story told in changing light. Every stop carries its own rhythm, shaped by water, weather, and the kindness of the people who call it home.

It is a place that reminds you to slow down. To listen. To look out over a vast lake or a crowded café and feel completely at peace. The miles between these towns are long, but the spirit that connects them is the same.

Once you’ve been here, it stays with you forever.