Though a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step, our travels today, roughly twice the distance of the Chinese proverb, began with getting out of bed at three in the morning, a more difficult start than merely putting one foot forward, particularly for two old men like us. Still, somehow we managed to make it to the airport in time, have United check our luggage, get scanned and patted down by security, and find our seats just minutes beford they closed the cabin door.
Seven hours later, we were at Milwaukee airport. Our real destination for this trip is the Upper Peninsula of Michigan where our friend Jason bought a house a couple years ago. While I went to high school and college in Michigan and know the state fairly well, John has had little chance to explore some of the more picturesque parts of the state. I gave him a tour of the urban desolation of Detroit shortly after we met. I am not sure he has ever recovered. But before we make it to “The UP,” as Michiganders call the Upper Peninsula, I wanted him to see a bit of Wisconsin, too. And there are few parts of the Badger State as charming as Door County.
For those of you not from the Upper Midwest, Door County is a peninsula that sticks out into Lake Michigan. It is both a rich agricultural area and a summer escape for residents of Chicago and Milwaukee. The shoreline is dotted with both old summer fishing camps with tiny cottages and some enormous homes for the Great Lakes gentry. The largest town in Door County is Sturgeon Bay, and that was our destination for the day.
We drove along the shore of Lake Michigan whenever we could. John has laways been fascinated by the size of the Great Lakes. He is sure that if you look hard enough you should be able to see the other side because it’s a lake, not the ocean.. But you never can.
We passed through lots of cute towns like Twin Rivers abd Altima. John described the ride as one of the most beautiful he could remember. He is always surprised by how pretty the sandy beaches on the shores of the Great Lakes can be.
We finally pulled into Sturgeon Bay. Our lodging for the night is a place called the Wanderlust Hotel. Sturgeon Bay has most of the usual chain accommodations on its outskirts, but i wanted some place that was more unique and located in the historic center of time. The Wanderlust checked both boxes.
But for all the famed hospitality of the Midwest, the Wanderlust Hotel felt more like River City, Iowa at its least friendly. I rang the doorbell to announce that we were there, and the voice on the intercom chastised me for not reading an email and a text that had been sent to me earlier in the day explaining the protocol for a “contact-free” check-in. After playing around with the codes for a bit I did manage to open the door and the door to the room as well. I think in 1982 I would have found our room charming. When this had been. single family house this had probably been the dining room or the second parlor. There were many original features still left along with some faux Victorian furniture. The dominant feature in the room was one of those enormous jacuzzi tubs which were popular thirty years ago. Although clean, it did not look like anybody had used this one in a long time.
John and I had dinner at a very pleasant Italian restaurant. After after eating, we walked about the center of the town. There are lots and lots of cute shops, just like Ashland, probably catering the same upper-middle-class female clientele.
Like entirely too many cities. Sturgeon Bay has fallen for the idea that having various people paint the same fiberglass animal mold constitutes public art. Given the name of the settlement, it was no surprise that a fish was the chosen animal here.
Despite all this carping—a bad word around here where the Asian Carp is an invasive species—I liked Sturgeon Bay a lot. And I wish we had more time to explore Door County and to push further up the peninsula towards Ephraim. But we have a lot of territory to cover tomorrow on our way to our vacation home for the next week in the woods of northern Michigan.
Traveling Johns 