A Friday in September in the Motor City, and the three of us had no idea what to do. I wanted to head downtown, and so with no complaints from my brother or his wife, we hit the Interstate….
As the GM towers loomed before us, my first views of Detroit were not at all what I had envisioned, which further entrenched my notion about how our country’s media can manipulate anything.
The Detroit river is a effervescent aqua blue, shimmering under the Ambassador bridge that connects Detroit to Windsor, Canada.
We decide to park at the riverfront and start our exploration. Any trepidation of being unsafe quickly vanishes under the glorious September sun. We find a local outfit that rents bikes to ride along the riverfront. We decide to upgrade to the sleek black Detroit City bikes, then ask which way we should go.
“If you have a few hours, I’d recommend Belle Isle.
Picture courtesy of visitdetroit.net
We thanked him, and happily started biking along the river. After a few minutes, we had to venture off the river trail and go through what appeared to be an industrial section of town. The sound of construction machinery hard at work was ringing in my ears as I took in the colorful graffiti on the buildings.
The bridge to Belle Isle is before me. I stop to wait for the others to catch up, letting my own muscles rest for a moment. It’s been far too long since I’ve rode a bike.

The park itself is full of grand views of downtown Detroit and Windsor, historic buildings scattered throughout the island, and plenty of bike trails through thickly wooded forests.


It’s Detroit like I never imagined, positively upbeat and full of beauty.



Wench, bring my ale, what say you?

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