Sunlight glints off the water with a Mediterranean shimmer. Rolling hills cascade toward this cobalt bay, their slopes quilted with neat rows of grapevines. The pine-scented air carries the rustle of leaves and clink of glasses. Inside a hilltop tasting room with water views, a bottle of crisp white is poured.
It could be Sonoma on a fogless morning, or perhaps the coast of Italy just after the harvest. But this is no European enclave or Californian postcard. This is northern Michigan, which is quietly becoming one of the world’s most intriguing viniculture destinations.
The area is known as the Traverse Wine Coast. Here you’ll find more than 2,000 acres of vineyards spread across nearly 40 wineries on the Leelanau and Old Mission peninsulas, which together provide 105 miles of wine-soaked lakeshore.
If you’ve never heard of Michigan’s wine region, don’t feel behind the times. It’s an up-and-coming viticulture area only recently thanks to climate change. The area has gained four extra weeks of wine-growing temperatures over the past 40 years, says Dr. Steven Schultze, an agricultural climatologist who researched the impact of climate change on Michigan wine production to earn his PhD degree at Michigan State University. The region now routinely hits the 180-day threshold needed to ripen vinifera vines (the type of grapevine that produces 90 percent of the world’s wine). “That made the industry not just viable, but good,” Schultze says.
Vladimir Banov is a Moldovan transplant and winemaker of nearly two decades at Black Star Farms, a Michigan institution with locations on both peninsulas. People have cultivated wine in his homeland for more than 5,000 years, but the European region is increasingly “really, really hot and really dry,” says Banov. While winemakers in Moldova struggle with water access, the Great Lakes state is awash. “I’ve noticed a lot of people moving during the last stages of COVID. They did research and wanted to be on Leelanau Peninsula, for example,” he says. “They’re buying land there, investing, and starting wineries. It’s happening.”

Michigan today has more than 250 wineries.
Photo by Tom Balazs/Two Twisted Trees Photography
A fruitful folly
Northern Michigan’s industry took root in the mid-1970s. Despite experts insisting the region was too cold for commercial wine grapes, Edward O’Keefe Jr. sold his metro Detroit nursing home business and moved to Old Mission Peninsula to open Chateau Grand Traverse, the state’s first large-scale vineyard to grow traditional grapevines.
Locals called it “O’Keefe’s Folly.” But he saw what others missed: southwest-facing slopes, Lake Michigan’s temperature-moderating effect, and deep snow that insulated vines in winter.
Now, that “fool” looks like Nostradamus—Chateau Grand Traverse spans 122 acres and grows 12 grape varieties, sustainably mixed with cover crops and winery compost. And hundreds of wineries have sprung up since.
“History has shown that as the world warms up, wine production moves poleward; and then when the world gets a little cooler, it goes equatorward,” says Schultze, the climate-wine researcher. “We saw it in the Little Ice Age in the 1600s—there are areas that lost the ability to grow grapes. But we know during what’s called the Medieval Warm Period, they were growing grapes as far north as central England and the Baltic coast. So the fact that Michigan is growing grapes now is indicative of a warming world.”
The resulting boom is easy to see: In 2000, Michigan had 24 wineries. Today, it’s home to 258. Roughly 100 of them have opened across the state in the past five years alone, including Gilchrist Farm Winery & Restaurant in Suttons Bay and two of the only women-owned wineries in the state: Blu Dot Farm & Vineyard in Charlevoix and Golden Muse Winery in Baroda. The state now ranks seventh in U.S. wine production, with 60 percent of its grapes grown in the Traverse City region.

Mari Vineyards is one of several Michigan wineries now growing red grapes.
Courtesy of Mari Vineyards
This longer, hotter growing season also opened the door to new vines. In a region known for rieslings, producers like Mari Vineyards are growing red grapes once considered too risky. “Instead of ripening reds 6 years out of 10, you now can [ripen them] 9 to 10 years out of 10, " says Sean O’Keefe, winemaker at Mari Vineyards and son of Edward O’Keefe Jr. “That makes it commercially and artistically viable.”
Tasked with growing Italian-style reds, he sourced varieties from cold-climate regions like northeast Italy, as well as nearby Austria and Slovenia. The winery’s proprietary hoop houses—arched structures that boost growing temps by up to 15 degrees—extend the growing season by an additional full month so they can produce blends entirely in-house, even in cooler years.
Michigan is not just producing more wine. It’s also producing more world-class wine.
“Every wine here isn’t ‘good-for-Michigan wine,’ it’s good wine,” said Madeline Triffon, the first woman master sommelier in the United States, at a James Beard Foundation dinner in May 2025 in Detroit that served only Michigan vintages. Her eyes have been on the region’s viniculture for decades: She bought Chateau Grand Traverse’s very first bottle and served Michigan winemaker Larry Mawby’s sparkling wine to black-tie diners back in the ’80s.
It took other professionals longer to cotton on, but the tide turned in 2012. Jancis Robinson—the renowned British wine critic who consulted on Queen Elizabeth II’s collection—named a Chateau Grand Traverse riesling made by Sean O’Keefe her favorite glass at that year’s Frankland Estate International Riesling Tasting. Since then, Michigan’s vintages have raked in scores of awards at international competitions, including 66 medals at the 2024 Texsom International Wine Competition. And the word is making its way to travelers: 600,000 wine tourists now visit each year to support Michigan’s nearly $9 billion industry, up from $300 million in 2005.
Despite this rapid growth, tastings are still held with that famous sense of Midwestern welcome. Unlike in Napa, where endless demand can mean sticking to a strict schedule of reservations, northern Michigan moves at a slower pace. It’s a place where you don’t rush the pour or the conversation, walk-in tastings are typical, and those who come are greeted by glistening bay views from outdoor patios.
“The perception of a region or even a very specific wine can change literally overnight,” says Triffon. “I think that Michigan is poised to get the attention it can handle.”

The Leelanau and Old Mission peninsulas offer 105 miles of lakeshore.
Photo by Tony Demin
How to experience the Traverse Wine Coast
Peak travel season hits in summer for lakeside beach days and in fall for fiery foliage. Most out-of-state visitors fly into Detroit (DTW) and drive north, although Traverse City’s regional airport (TVC) offers a closer landing. To stay among the vines, options include the Inn at Chateau Grand Traverse and the Inn at Black Star Farms, where guests can book a private sail on the bay.
Each peninsula has its own wine trail: Old Mission’s 18-mile path features 10 wineries, and the more than 100-mile Leelanau Trail has 23, with services like self-guided bicycle routes, including a picnic lunch and optional van support ($85 per day) from Grand Traverse Bike Tours. For a bus tour, operators like Grand Traverse Tours ($466–$599 for 10–12 people), Lakeshore Shuttle and Tours (starting at $400), and Wonderland Tours ($399 for four hours) have you covered.