Return from Door County
We’re back from Door County.
I bet the question on all your minds is, “Exactly how many silos are there between Fish Creek, Wisconsin and Maryville, Missouri?”
No?
Well, I’m going to tell you anyway.
I honestly thought I was exaggerating when I wrote in last week’s column that I was completely satisfied after the first 1,000.
Guess not.
There are pretty close to 1,432, give or take about 50 (I lost count a couple of times.) silos between here and there — big ones, small ones, super-cool-looking old ones with formed cement roofs, ones that have been completely taken over by vines, ones with circus-tent-looking painted roofs, shiny new ones and everything in between.
We made a game of counting them on the way home to make the time go faster (Seems like it always takes longer to get back from vacation than it does to get there in the first place).
Last week I wrote of our canoe adventure to the mysterious Horseshoe Island, which at the time was the highlight of the trip for me.
It just got better from there.
The seven-mile ferry ride to Washington Island was a first for youngest daughter Trinity and provided more breathtaking scenery.
While there, we visited a Stavkirke church — a replica of a Norwegian church, used as an outreach ministry by the Washington Island Trinity Evangelical Lutheran Church.
The construction mirrors that of a Viking ship, with its vertical “stavs” or masts, tongue-and-groove joinery and dragon heads at the “prows” of the steeply-pitched gable roofs.
It’s a must-see for anyone who visits the island.
But what I was most impressed by was simply the fact that when we were on the, small — approximately 30-square-mile island — we soon forgot that we were on an island.
The vast stretches of Lake Michigan we saw on the ferry ride made us feel like we were on a journey to the edge of the earth.
It is remote to say the least.
But Washington Island has most — if not more — amenities than most small towns.
The first thing I saw when I walked into the Visitors Center was a copy of the island newspaper, the Washington Island Observer.
On the front page was a large photo of the lone graduate of the Washington Island High School Class of 2015. I guess most of the island’s 660 year-round residents aren’t of childbearing age.
The Island has it’s own Chamber of Commerce, several restaurants, various types of lodging and even its own very modern looking performing arts center.
It’s amazing what a small group of people can do when they all pull in the same direction.
Side note: I was told more than once prior to our trip that the state bird of Wisconsin is the mosquito.
I thought they were joking.
It’s not a joke.
What my well-wishing friends failed to mention, however, is that these mosquitos, which are roughly twice the size of their Missouri cousins, travel in flocks.
I saw my first flock of mosquitos on Washington Island.
Not kidding.
As we exited the vehicle to hike out and see Sand Dunes Park, I noticed a group of about 50 of the bloodthirsty suckers hovering outside my pickup door.
I’ve never sprayed more insect repellant in my life.
We had some pretty remarkable experiences on this trip, but I have to say the thing that made the biggest impression on me was the shoreline of Whitefish Bay.
Formed by millions of years worth of lake waves pounding against the shore, Whitefish Bay features exposed dolomite rock formations and more of the towering Hemlock, Birch and Maple forest I mentioned a week ago.
The varying depths of the lake at the shore make for a range of blue and green colors as you peer out from the cliffs above.
Looking almost straight down in places, you can see the sun-bleached boulders many feet below the surface through the clearest water you’ve ever seen.
I’ve never been to the Wisconsin Dells, but that’s what everyone assumed we were doing when we told them we were going to Wisconsin.
Everything we looked at made me think it was just Wisconsin’s version of Branson.
My advice: Skip the Dells and cruise on up to Door County. Just make sure you pack the mosquito repellant.
