By Melissa Wentarmini
Associate Editor
Every March, when winter feels endless and the snowbanks have hardened into gray walls along driveways, the Superior Dome fills with boats.
For more than three decades, the U.P. Boat, Sport & RV Show has arrived as a kind of seasonal promise in Marquette — a reminder that Lake Superior will thaw, that docks will go back in and that summer in the Upper Peninsula is never as far away as it feels.
This year’s show runs March 27-29, opening Friday from 3 to 8 p.m., Saturday from 10 a.m. to 7 p.m. and Sunday from 10 a.m. to 2 p.m., transforming Northern Michigan University’s iconic dome into a preview of warmer days.
What began in 1993 as the vision of longtime Munising teacher Dave Kimar has grown into a multigenerational tradition, drawing thousands to wander the football-field-sized floor and imagine life without snow boots. Kimar studied similar shows across Michigan and the Midwest, paying attention to what worked.
One feature he insisted on including was a children’s trout pond — the kind where kids can cast a line indoors and feel the tug of a fish without ever stepping onto ice. His daughter, Sarah Kimar, was 10 when she was put in charge of running it.
“I started working when he started the show,” she said. “My job was to run the pond.”
Today, some of those children who fished under her watch now return as parents, even grandparents, guiding small hands around rods in the same pond. The ritual has become part of the show’s identity, as recognizable as the gleam of fiberglass hulls under stadium lights.
When Dave Kimar died unexpectedly while planning what would have been his 30th show, the event’s future briefly felt uncertain. Sarah was flying home when he slipped into a coma. Amid the shock and grief, one thought kept surfacing: The show must go on.
“It’s really my dad’s baby,” she said. “I’m carrying it on because it’s his legacy.”
Taking over meant inheriting more than a floor plan. Her father had done much of the work by hand. Sarah relied on his paperwork, her memories and the vendors who had become like family. Some had watched her grow up at the show. Many have exhibited there for decades.
The event paused during the COVID-19 pandemic, forced to shut down for two years. Weather has occasionally tested it as well — one March storm dumped 14 inches of snow on opening night, cutting attendance nearly in half.
In a strong year, organizers hope to draw around 10,000 visitors; in leaner years, closer to 5,000. Spring break schedules, late snowstorms and the broader economy all play a role.
Inside the dome, though, it is “always sunny and 70,” as vendors like to joke.
More than 100 boats can fit inside the roughly 100,000-square-foot space, alongside RVs, campers, docks, saunas, hot tubs, bicycles, paddle boards and fishing tackle. Families climb in and out of Airstreams, compare pontoon layouts and linger over the cinnamon rolls or roasted almonds that have become almost as much of a draw as the boats themselves. Face painting and temporary tattoos compete for children’s attention. Adults swap spring plans and fishing stories.
Kimar describes it as a social event as much as a commercial one. Vendors gather for a Saturday night party, another of her father’s traditions, and longtime attendees claim favorite routes through the show floor.
“It’s like how everybody sits in the same seat,” she said. “People kind of expect what’s been there.”
There are small additions each year. Hot tubs are returning after a brief absence. New fishing tackle companies and outfitters rotate in. This year, one exhibitor will offer guided mushroom hunts — a quiet nod to the region’s growing interest in foraging and backwoods exploration.
The show’s name may highlight boats, but its appeal stretches farther. For some, it is about upgrading equipment. For others, it is about letting children cast a line indoors while snow still piles up outside. And for many, it is simply a way to mark time — a harbinger of spring in a place where winter can feel interminable.
Admission details, exhibitor lists and additional information are available at upboatshow.com, but longtime attendees would argue the heart of the event can’t be found on a webpage. It’s in the hum of conversation beneath the dome’s curved ceiling, in the splash of a child’s first indoor catch and in a daughter quietly carrying forward something her father built.