it was an ode to Upper Peninsula life. It showed that many bars serve as more than just a place to drink for a small town’s residents. And it gave a father and son something important that neither at the time knew they would need.

At first, it drew some interest. A few newspapers did articles about the father-son authors, and several TV stations came Up North to interview them about this unusual travel guide.

Once the attention faded they moved on with their lives and forgot about their book. Kevin relocated downstate, got a job, got married and had a child. Randy stayed in the U.P., spending perhaps a little too much time on barstools. A mere 10,000 copies of the book had been printed, yet it seemed unlikelythat even that many would sell and that the book was probably doomed to obscurity.

Then a funny thing happened.

One thing in common

There are lots of dive bars in the U.P. Some are little more than crooked shacks with a deep-fryer and two beers on tap. But there are also some spectacular bars, usually in those few places with money and jobs — or places that once had money and jobs — like former copper mining towns. There’s Shute’s in Calumet, a 128-year-old saloon with an elaborate stained-glass canopy above its bar, hand-carved wooden lions heads and a basement speakeasy from the Prohibition era. The Nahma Inn in Nahma, built in 1906 by a lumber company for its workers, still featuring antique-furnished rooms for overnight guests. The Jack Pine