The family all went down to Farwell which is about 90 miles away just to get away. I live in a place most people come up to. I counted 1800 cars I passed from Buckley to Clare going south from vacations up here on the weekend.
There are many towns I pass when traveling and I see these little diners in these small towns but rarely stop. Is it a dive? Is it safe? This time we made it a point to stop. As the kids were looking on their cell phones for the perfect local hangout in Harrison, MI, I decided when in Rome so I asked the lady at the flower store getting donations for the Knights of Columbus where the best local diner was. She told me Jackie’s Airport Diner. I thought – airport food?
It was much better than that. An area the size of my living room packed with the locals. The flight logs were even stored next to the door. The sugar was in that cannister I got sugar in – in 1965. Saturday football in the corner. Patriotic signs. Christian signs. And the roast beef sandwich was about as big as a Thanksgiving meal.
The next day we found another local diner just as good in Farwell. The omelette was huge and cost less than a McDonald’s breakfast. Someday it would be fun just to travel from state to state only eating at local mom and pop diners.