Lisa Tatangelo dons her festive Derby Hat.
The Hazel Park Raceway was awash in colorful sun hats as hundreds of spectators gathered to watch “the most exciting two minutes in sports.” The tenor and costume of the raceway crowd evoked the grandeur of Churchill Downs as they anticipated the 143rd running of the Kentucky Derby last Saturday, May 6th.
The event spanned three clubhouse floors, an outdoor barbecue, and the raceway’s grandstand. Racegoers milled about, snacking on nachos or hot dogs while murmuring about the odds in the upcoming race. As coverage of the Kentucky Derby intensified on television, the throngs condensed around the raceway’s simulcast displays.
Then, Always Dreaming crossed the finish line. Continue reading
Spring is here, so it’s time to bring out your camping gear!
Oakland County’s natural splendor is on full display at the 16 campsites, 62 swimming spots, and 100 fishing holes. From Ortonville State Recreation Area down to Haas Lake Park RV Campground, the perfect wilderness getaway is always close at hand.
To find a campground or campsite near you use our interactive map or view a complete list of locations here.
Have you ever wondered how it felt when Howard Carter first stepped into the lost tomb of King Tut? From now until September 3rd, that sensation can be yours at the Cranbrook Institute of Science’s latest exhibit: Tutankhamun: Wonderful Things’ from the Pharaoh’s Tomb.
There are many sweet things to see and do in Oakland County, but for those looking to satisfy their
deepest candy cravings, Clawson’s Doc Sweets may just have the right prescription.
“I love it when people come in and are just amazed by candy that they haven’t seen before or candy that they haven’t seen in years,” said Jennifer Boughton, a Doc Sweets manager and seven-year veteran of the candy trade. “A lot of older customers will come in and say: ‘I haven’t had this since I was a little girl.” Continue reading
WILDER SIDE OF OAKLAND COUNTY
I first become aware of Red-tailed Hawks in rural Connecticut. I was a five or six-year-old nature-hungry kid running barefoot through the meadow that led to a musty barn full of magical things, and then it was on to my favorite forbidden destination: “grandma’s shack”. Red-tails soared above the meadow and I fell in love with their sharp cry. My dad told me that the neighbors called them, chicken hawks. He liked them; so did I. I vaguely remember the horror of seeing some hanging dead on fences. Those are my first recollections of any bird of prey. But the history of birds of prey, and the way humans interacted with them go back thousands of years to the sport of falconry.