How Do You Get to Mackinac Island: Navigating Your Way to Michigan's Timeless Treasure

Picture yourself stepping off a ferry onto an island where the clip-clop of horse hooves replaces the rumble of engines, where Victorian charm meets pristine natural beauty, and where fudge shops outnumber gas stations—because there aren't any gas stations at all. Mackinac Island sits like a jewel in the straits between Michigan's Upper and Lower Peninsulas, accessible only by boat or plane, stubbornly refusing to join the automotive age since banning cars in 1898. This peculiar transportation puzzle makes getting there half the adventure, and honestly, that's exactly how the island likes it.

The Water Route: Your Primary Portal

Most visitors reach Mackinac Island by ferry, and I'd argue it's the only way to properly arrive. There's something almost ceremonial about watching the island grow larger as your boat cuts through the deep blue waters of Lake Huron. Three main ferry companies operate from two departure points, and each has its own personality—kind of like choosing between different airlines, except with more seagulls and less security theater.

From Mackinaw City (yes, spelled differently than the island—blame the French and British for that linguistic mess), you'll find Shepler's Ferry and Star Line Ferry. Both run frequently from early May through late October, with crossings taking about 16-20 minutes. Shepler's has been at this since 1945, and their captains have this uncanny ability to spot migrating eagles from the wheelhouse. Star Line, meanwhile, operates those distinctive red and white hydro-jet ferries that can practically turn on a dime.

From St. Ignace on the Upper Peninsula side, all three companies operate, including Arnold Transit, the oldest family-owned ferry service on the Great Lakes. Arnold's boats have that classic, no-nonsense feel—they've been doing this since 1878, back when passengers included lumber barons and fur traders. The St. Ignace route is slightly shorter, usually 15-18 minutes, and if you're coming from the north or west, it saves you from crossing the Mackinac Bridge.

Here's something the brochures won't tell you: if you're prone to seasickness, the afternoon crossings can get choppy when the wind picks up. I've seen plenty of tourists turn green around the gills on rough days. Morning departures tend to be calmer, and sitting outside on the upper deck, counterintuitively, often feels better than hiding inside.

The Aerial Approach: For Those Who Prefer Wings

Great Lakes Air operates small aircraft service to Mackinac Island from St. Ignace year-round, weather permitting. Now, I'll be honest—this isn't for everyone. We're talking about 10-seat Cessnas and Britten-Norman Islanders, not jumbo jets. The flight takes all of seven minutes, but those seven minutes offer views that'll ruin regular commercial flights for you forever. You'll see the Mackinac Bridge from above, the island's distinctive turtle shape, and on clear days, you can spot shipwrecks beneath the surface.

The island's airport is delightfully basic—a grass strip that feels more like landing in someone's backyard than arriving at a tourist destination. In winter, when the ferries stop running, these flights become the primary lifeline for year-round residents. I once shared a flight with a woman bringing her cat to the mainland vet—try explaining that to the TSA.

Winter Crossings: When Ice Changes Everything

Between January and March, when the Straits of Mackinac freeze solid enough, something magical happens. The island becomes accessible by snowmobile, creating an ice bridge that locals treat like a temporary highway. Some winters, the ice is thick enough for small planes to land directly on it. Other years, it's a slushy mess that requires special airboats—those deafening fan-powered sleds that look like something from a post-apocalyptic movie.

The Christmas Tree Ship still makes its annual December run, bringing the island's communal Christmas tree across increasingly unpredictable ice. Climate change has made these frozen highways less reliable than they were in my grandfather's time, when horse-drawn sleighs would cross regularly. Now, it's a waiting game each winter to see if nature will cooperate.

Planning Your Departure Point

Choosing between Mackinaw City and St. Ignace as your departure point involves more strategy than you might think. Mackinaw City offers more hotels, restaurants, and tourist attractions if you're making a weekend of it. The Colonial Michilimackinac fort is worth a visit, and Mackinaw Crossings provides that peculiar American mix of shopping and entertainment that somehow includes both a laser show and a fudge shop.

St. Ignace feels more like a working town that happens to have tourists, rather than a tourist town that happens to have residents. The Museum of Ojibwa Culture provides actual historical context instead of just selling dreamcatchers made in China. Plus, if you're driving from Chicago, Milwaukee, or anywhere west, starting from St. Ignace means you get to experience crossing the Mackinac Bridge—five miles of suspension bridge that's either thrilling or terrifying, depending on your relationship with heights.

The Parking Predicament

Since you can't bring your car to the island, you'll need to abandon it somewhere. Both ferry companies offer parking lots, ranging from basic gravel expanses to covered structures. Expect to pay $20-40 per day, depending on the season and how close you want to be to the dock. There's a certain irony in paying to park your car so you can visit an island that banned cars, but that's capitalism for you.

Some hotels on the mainland offer park-and-ride packages that include parking and ferry tickets. It's worth checking these out, especially if you're staying overnight on the mainland before or after your island visit. I've learned the hard way that showing up without a parking plan on a July weekend is a recipe for circling lots like a automotive vulture.

Timing Your Journey

Peak season runs from Memorial Day through Labor Day, with July and August reaching sardine-can levels of crowding. The ferries run every 30 minutes during peak times, but that doesn't mean you won't wait in line. Weekends are particularly brutal. I once spent 90 minutes in the ferry line on a Saturday in July, watching families melt down in real-time.

Shoulder seasons—May and September—offer a completely different island experience. The weather's still decent, the crowds thin out, and hotel rates drop. October brings spectacular fall colors, though some businesses start closing for the season. If you can swing a Tuesday-through-Thursday visit in early June or late September, you'll wonder why anyone battles the summer hordes.

What to Expect Upon Arrival

When your ferry docks at Mackinac Island, you're immediately thrust into organized chaos. Horse-drawn taxi carriages line up like a 19th-century Uber queue. Porters from the Grand Hotel and other resorts wrestle with luggage. The smell hits you—a mixture of horse manure, fudge, and lake water that's oddly not unpleasant. It's sensory overload in the best possible way.

Your transportation options on the island are delightfully limited: walk, bike, or horse. That's it. No electric scooters, no Segways (they tried, the island said no), just good old-fashioned locomotion. Bikes rent for about $10-15 per hour, though if you're staying multiple days, some shops offer better weekly rates. Fair warning: the island has hills that look innocent but will humble your thighs.

The Local Knowledge Advantage

Here's what twenty years of visiting Mackinac Island has taught me: the first ferry isn't always the best ferry. The 7 a.m. departure seems smart until you realize nothing on the island opens until 9 a.m. except one coffee shop that knows it has a monopoly on caffeine-deprived early arrivals.

If you're day-tripping, buy your return ticket for a specific time. Open returns seem flexible until you're standing in a massive line at 5 p.m. with every other procrastinator. And despite what the ferry companies claim about pets, I've seen everything from parrots to pot-bellied pigs make the crossing. The crews have seen it all.

Weather matters more than you think. The island creates its own microclimate, and it's usually 10 degrees cooler than the mainland. That cute sundress that worked in Mackinaw City might leave you shivering by Fort Mackinac. Layers aren't just recommended; they're survival gear.

The Financial Reality

Getting to Mackinac Island isn't cheap, and the island knows it has you captive once you arrive. Ferry tickets run $29-35 for adults round-trip, parking adds another $20-40, and that's before you've bought a single piece of fudge. Budget accordingly, and remember that island prices reflect the cost of hauling everything across by boat. That $8 bottle of water seems outrageous until you consider its journey.

Some visitors try to day-trip to save on hotel costs, but this often backfires. The early ferry, late return, and parking fees can approach the cost of a mainland hotel room, and you'll be exhausted from cramming everything into ten hours. Sometimes spending the night makes more financial and physical sense.

Making the Journey Part of the Adventure

The trip to Mackinac Island shouldn't be viewed as mere transportation—it's the opening act of your island experience. I've met honeymooners on their first visit and octogenarians on their fiftieth, and they all share the same anticipation as the ferry pulls away from the dock. There's something about leaving your car behind that signals a mental shift, a permission to slow down.

Some of my best island memories actually happened on the ferry: watching a pod of lake sturgeon surface near the boat, seeing the bridge lit up at sunset on an evening return, or sharing ferry fudge with strangers who became friends by the time we docked. The journey sets the tone for the island's pace of life.

Whether you choose the efficiency of a morning ferry from St. Ignace or the scenic route through Mackinaw City, whether you splurge on a flight or brave the winter ice bridge, getting to Mackinac Island requires a small act of faith. You're trusting that this car-free rock in Lake Huron is worth the effort, the expense, and the logistics. After dozens of crossings, I can confirm: it absolutely is. The island rewards those who make the journey with a chance to step out of modern life, if only for a while. And really, in our hyper-connected, constantly rushing world, that escape might be the most valuable destination of all.

Authoritative Sources:

Armour, David A. 100 Years at Mackinac: A Centennial History of the Mackinac Island State Park Commission, 1895-1995. Mackinac Island State Park Commission, 1995.

McCabe, John. Grand Hotel: Mackinac Island. Unicorn Press, 1987.

Michigan Department of Transportation. "Mackinac Bridge Statistics and History." michigan.gov/mdot, 2023.

Porter, Phil. Mackinac: An Island Famous in These Regions. Mackinac State Historic Parks, 2016.

Widder, Keith R. Mackinac: Michilimackinac, A Handbook to the Site. Mackinac State Historic Parks, 2004.