A memorial to the Potawatomi chief who allegedly ran nearly 150 miles to alert settlers of an impending attack.

This tree was warped centuries ago to serve as a botanical wayfaring tool.

Dating back to the 1800s, two imposing buildings in Michigan have had countless transformations over the years.

This solemn facility remembers the cruel effort to compel Native American children to relinquish their culture.

A series of 33 stone markers maps an ancient 55-mile transportation route.

Once the tallest building in Detroit, this Gothic church houses some of the oldest stained-glass windows in the country.

Week-long festival in the baby food capital of the world.

The last remaining tollhouse in Michigan built during the 19th-century plank road craze.

In the main dining room, a nine-ton boulder caps the fireplace designed by local architect Earl Young.

The birthplace of professional hockey on the shores of Portage Lake.

This quaint stretch of road is the final resting place for hundreds of America's four-legged veterans.

This resort community was known as the "Black Eden of Michigan."

This missionary's legacy looms large over the Upper Peninsula of Michigan—literally.

World's largest pet casket company brings in up to $5 million per year in revenue.

Where else would you expect to find the gravesite of European royalty than the windswept dunes of rural Northern Michigan?

Winter weather reveals a large Italian marble crucifix drowned beneath Lake Michigan.

This small museum is dedicated to making sure the history of the natural ice industry doesn't melt away.

At Fountain and Division, in the shadow of Kendall College of Art and Design, lays the story of a fictional culture whose political system was used under license and who finally rebelled.

A place for ship-lovers to watch the passage of freighters traversing the Great Lakes while learning about their history.

This 19th-century former train station’s unusual roof shape earned it a rather witchy name.

Celebrating the end of winter, students gather every year at Lake Superior State University to torch a 12-foot-tall snowman.

There are two legends behind the origin of this unusually tall sanitary structure.

One of Detroit’s oldest blues clubs stands in defiance of the passage of time and the city’s shifting fortunes.

On the right bank of the Grand River a plaque remembers an imaginary painter who once awaited his youth.