Lodge in Manistique, once lost during a poker game in 1936, whose tables, chairs and lamps are made of pine stumps and roots.

And there’s the Islander Bar and Grill in Hessel, which resembles the large, idealized cabin of an eccentric, seafaring collector.

Kevin stood at the 50-foot wood bar, across from the large stone fireplace, ordering a beer. It was a spring afternoon, and this was his first stop on a road trip he was taking across the eastern U.P., visiting a string of bars that he hadn’t been to since Randy last took this route with him. He wanted to see whether any of the bars had changed, if anyone would remember the two of them or the book they wrote.

This time, though, he was taking the triphand, talking through the night with someone he loved.

“It was a tremendous bonding experience, a lot of time in the car with my dad,” Kevin said. “I didn’t take it for granted. I think I knew what we were doing along the way.”

Last call

The end of the road was a gravel parking lot at the edge of the peninsula in Sault Ste. Marie. Across the water, low on the horizon, was Canada. In the middle of the river stood Sugar Island, 50 square miles of woods containing a closed church, a community center and a single bar.

Kevin was waiting for the ferry to the island, which went back and forth twice an hour across St. Mary’s River. He’d just come from Raber Bay Bar, named for the bay