Mark My Words

When I mentioned to my friend Ashley last week that Tara and I were planning a getaway to Door County to celebrate our anniversary, her response made me chuckle.

“Door County, so funny to say it that way,” she said.

I’d never thought about it before, but she’s right: to the uninitiated (i.e., anyone not living in the Upper Midwest), that does sound odd. Counties are rarely destinations; I never tell someone I’m going to Dane County or Walworth County, for instance—I’m visiting Madison or Lake Geneva. In the Midwest, Door County is a popular vacation destination renowned for its scenic shoreline, charming coastal villages nestled in picturesque harbors, and laid-back outdoor vibe. It’s located on a peninsula that juts out from Green Bay to Lake Michigan (the thumb on Wisconsin’s mitten, if you will) and known as “the Cape Cod of the Midwest.”

That’s why locals say they’re going to Door County. You may be staying in Sister Bay or Egg Harbor or Fish Creek, but chances are you’ll be visiting most (if not all) of the 19 towns and villages that make up its 482 square miles. Not surprisingly, tourism drives the economy. People come from as far as Minneapolis and Chicago. Contrary to its name, there is no thriving door-manufacturing industry in the county. It’s named after the Death’s Door Strait, a treacherous passage between the peninsula and Washington Island that has claimed many shipwrecks over the years.

From the moment we arrived in Wisconsin, everyone—friends, neighbors, coworkers, strangers in bars—told us we had to check out Door County. But four years later, aside from a brief couple of hours in Sturgeon Bay (which barely counts), we had yet to visit Door County properly. So, when Tara suggested we book a weekend getaway there, I was all in.

We left Saturday morning for the 3.5-hour drive northeast. After stopping for lunch in Green Bay, we arrived in Fish Creek mid-afternoon. Checked into our room at the very quaint and centrally located Main Street Motel, then explored the town for a while before sidling up to the bar in Bayside Tavern, where we parked our asses for the next four hours. Drinks were consumed, food was eaten, and I donated a $20 bill to the virtual jukebox because, my god, someone had to save the patrons from the dreck that was playing over the loudspeakers! Built to Spill, Spoon, Talking Heads, and Goose did just that. The bar was a mere two blocks from our motel so we wouldn’t have to drive.

Sunday morning, we were up bright and early. Tara had insisted on breakfast at the White Gull Inn, practically next door to where we were staying. She’s been following the historic B&B-slash-restaurant’s Innkeeper Caroline, whose baked goods are legendary, on Instagram for years now. Sure enough, the food was exceptional, and that slice of warm blueberry coffee cake we shared was out of this world.

Our plan was to spend the rest of the day driving around the peninsula, checking out the various towns and attractions, without any real destination in mind. Unbeknownst to us, there was a big bicycle ride happening that day, the annual Door County Century (DCC), with 3,000 riders pedaling either 30, 50, 70, or 100 miles around the peninsula. I’m sure Half-fast Cycling Club knows all about it. Well, we did not…and that put a damper on our first stop, the gorgeous Peninsula State Park. Nothing against cyclists, but we were stuck behind hundreds of them pedaling at a leisurely pace through the twisty two-lane road that circumnavigates the park. There’s no such thing as a dedicated bike lane there, and they were all over the road, so we were crawling at 15 mph for a good chunk of that time, rarely able to pass them because of the many blind curves. That didn’t stop us from pulling over and checking out the sights, like the Eagle Bluff Lighthouse and Eagle Tower. The scenery was dramatic, with sweeping views of Lake Michigan’s Green Bay and towering limestone bluffs.

Exiting the park, we were afraid we’d be trailing those cyclists all day, but luckily the DCC course sent them on a different route through Ephraim, and the rest of the day was blessedly bike-free.

It was also very windy, which meant choppy water and big waves on Lake Michigan. We stopped in Sister Bay for coffee before continuing north to Ellison Bluff County Park, where we admired more dramatic vistas and did a short hike through the woods. The weather was beautiful away from the water, a very pleasant 67-ish degrees. We drove all the way to Northport on the northern tip of the peninsula, then backtracked to Charlie’s Smokehouse in Ellison Bay, where we grabbed cheese, crackers, and a container of smoked whitefish dip for a picnic lunch. Whitefish is a mild and flaky freshwater fish native to the Great Lakes; some version can be found on pretty much every restaurant menu in Door County. It’s very tasty!

Afterward, we stopped at the Cana Island Lighthouse in Baileys Harbor, where I climbed the 97 steps to the observation deck and made it a point to not disturb the ghosts.

We were okay kickin’ it at a dive bar our first night, but we wanted a nice dinner on Sunday to celebrate our anniversary and Tara’s new job. I’d booked a reservation at an upscale eatery in Baileys Harbor, but Neighbor Bryan had raved about a different place, Top Deck Restaurant. It’s located in a restored boathouse on the water’s edge of North Bay and the menu looked fantastic, so we eighty-sixed our other reservation in favor of Top Deck. Great decision, because the ambience was fantastic, and the food was incredible. We started with an appetizer of crispy duck wontons with charred sweet corn, cream cheese, and a sweet and spicy plum sauce. Tara chose The Lobster Nest as her entrée: buttery lobster with sauteed onions, celery, peppers, and garlic nestled in a warm bread bowl covered in a decadent house made lobster bisque. I opted for the Bleu Cheese Scallop Gnocchi—potato gnocchi and arugula tossed in a creamy bleu cheese sauce, topped with pan-seared scallops, charred sweet onions, and a brown butter drizzle.

This was one of the best meals I’ve had since moving to Wisconsin! I texted Neighbor Bryan afterward. (It truly was.) They know how to cook, he replied, which is putting it mildly. We were so full neither of us finished our entrees and we practically had to roll ourselves out the door, but that didn’t stop us from ordering dessert to-go.

We got back to our motel in Fish Creek just in time to walk the two blocks to Sunset Beach County Park, where we were joined by dozens of other sunset-seekers. You know, just a few short years ago, I never imagined I’d catch a sunset over the Great Lakes. Honestly, I didn’t even know this was possible in Wisconsin. Most of my adult life was spent on the West Coast, where the sun goes down over the ocean. This was a totally different experience…and yet, remarkably similar. It was humbling and beautiful and my favorite part of an already perfect day.

Monday, it was time to head home—but not right away. Our original plan was to grab breakfast at Al Johnson’s Swedish Restaurant in Sister Bay, famous for the goats that graze atop the sod roof. Total tourist attraction, but who can resist rooftop goats?! But we made a last-minute decision to eat at the White Gull Inn again. It was that good! I reasoned we could drive to Al Johnson’s afterward to check out the goats, which we did…but the only goats on the roof were plastic ones. Good call switching things up, as I learned later the goats don’t begin their rooftop day shift until later in the morning.

From there, we drove to Cave Point County Park in Sturgeon Bay. This turned out to be my favorite stop; rugged dolomite and limestone cliffs and underwater caves hugged the shore, and the water of Lake Michigan was a dramatic teal and bright green in places. Tara and I explored the shoreline, dipping our feet into the icy water, and I even got to fly my drone above the forested rock bluffs. I was nervous as hell doing this, because the lake was right there, and I knew crashing it into the water would have been The End. I’m still a newbie at flying this thing! But with light winds and a clear sky, I had no problem piloting it up and landing it safely.

We had one final stop to make before starting the long trek home: Renard’s Artisan Cheese, where we did our part to support the state’s dairy economy. In addition to a few exotic flavors, we picked up a bag of fresh curds, which were especially squeaky. Shelly would be proud.

Overall, we had an amazing time. Door County totally lives up to the Midwest Cape Cod hype!