Sunsets and Solace: How Door County Wisconsin Captured My Heart

^{Author’s Note: I originally wrote this piece in 2017 for another publication that has since ceased operations. As this reflection on Door County holds a special place in my heart, I wanted to preserve and share it here. While some details may have changed in the years since, the feeling that Door County evokes remains timeless, as does my affection for this unique Wisconsin peninsula. I hope you enjoy this journey through one of my favorite places on earth!}‍

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After graduating high school, I journeyed southward, college-bound, to a land where the "s" is silent. As a Wisconsinite in Illinois, I quickly became something of a novelty. Those native to the Land of Lincoln genuinely believed my state was some great wilderness—a frontier where everyone owns a cow and drives a tractor to work. Few seemed convinced any civilization existed above the 43rd Parallel. So when asked where I lived, despite my true hometown, I'd usually reply "Milwaukee," both because it's the closest major city to my home and to demonstrate that, yes, Wisconsin actually HAS major cities. Surely a metropolis like Milwaukee would register geographically with even the most die-hard Bears fans...

But I quickly discovered this wasn't true. In an effort to familiarize my southern neighbors with my great state's geography, I'd hold out my right hand, palm facing them, fingers together and thumb extended, and declare, "This is Wisconsin."

I know the "mitten" analogy is probably Michigan's intellectual property, but Wisconsin more closely resembles a hand with the mitten removed. This visual aid proved remarkably effective on numerous occasions. I became so adept at its execution that I could pinpoint all major cities on my hand, without looking, giving friends a crash course on points of interest in the Land of Cheese. I typically omitted Green Bay, a tactical decision that helped avoid debates about "the better football team." But occasionally someone would ask, "What's the thumb?" I'm surprised this question didn't arise more often. Looking back, I'm equally surprised I didn't volunteer that information more frequently! Examining Wisconsin's shape, it's a rather prominent geographical feature!

In fact, it is the reason for this post. While some might pay tribute to the lake itself, I want to highlight the land embraced by the water… that literal thumb of terrain extending so gracefully into Lake Michigan's heart, beautifully transformed *by* the surrounding waters. That thumb brings me my sense of renewal. That thumb is Door County.
Back in the late '90s, my family jumped on the hottest real estate trend sweeping the nation—timeshares. Remember those? While now recognized as somewhat ill-advised investments, one magnificent outcome emerged from our experimentation: one week in a beautiful three-bedroom property in Egg Harbor, Wisconsin.

Looking at your thumb geographically, Door County occupies most of it, but its first significant settlement doesn't appear until the knuckle joint. This is Sturgeon Bay, home to the Door County Maritime Museum and birthplace of countless vessels in its numerous shipyards. As the county seat, it functions essentially as a conventional Midwestern town. However, it's known for something else… something geographically significant. It marks the TRUE beginning of Door County… or at least MY Door County. The Door County I cherish.

Sturgeon Bay is bisected by a shipping channel, with its halves connected by an impressive drawbridge. My family follows one rule: we leave all worries and concerns on the bridge's southern side (or perhaps they simply remain there magically?). Because once we cross, we enter an entirely different realm… one free from stresses, obligations, and schedules. A place where our only concern is whether we'll catch the sunset in time, and my only decision is "red or white?" North of here, we're officially on vacation. Everything changes. In fact, beyond this point, county ordinances prohibit chain retailers and restaurants from establishing locations, preserving Northern Door's (Nor-Door's) charm and integrity. Here, life moves at a gentler, more relaxed pace. You know you're on vacation! And after crossing that bridge, our next destination is Egg Harbor. My home base.

Situated approximately at my thumb's nail bed, Egg Harbor is the first of four quintessentially charming towns nestled in the sheltered bays along the peninsula's western shore. Its curious name dates to the founders and an impromptu rowing race in the bay. To prevent the opposing team from reaching shore first, each rowboat comically pelted the other with eggs, leaving the shoreline scattered with eggshells the following morning, and providing a whimsical name for their new settlement. That playfully nautical spirit endures today, with everything in town drawing inspiration from it, right down to the local beer, aptly named "Shipwrecked."

One aspect I particularly love about Door County is its diverse range of activities. Unlike some northern vacation destinations, Nor-Door allows visitors to choose their level of engagement. Want to feel like you're unwinding in a secluded lake cabin for the weekend? Channel your inner Thoreau. Craving the adrenaline rush of kayaking through sea caves carved by cliff-battering waves? Mount that GoPro! Prefer to dress for dinner at a delightful dockside restaurant? Bon appétit! Love shopping until exhaustion sets in? Just bring a sufficiently spacious trunk! As a visitor, you're in the driver's seat of a choose-your-own-adventure novel, with the wonderful advantage that you never need to settle for just one experience… a perk I thoroughly enjoy whenever I visit. Nevertheless, certain experiences epitomize my finest moments in Door County. At the top of that list: an Egg Harbor sunset.

Few things in life bring me genuine peace. Living in a major metropolitan area means confronting both physical and mental congestion daily. In urban environments, peace is a rare commodity, and sometimes it's difficult to imagine anything beyond that world. But in Door County, all that fades, and nothing dispels it more effectively than when the sun descends to within a finger's width of the western skyline. For me, Door County sunsets are almost a religious experience. When that massive orange fireball melts so beautifully into the navy-blue expanse of an unobstructed horizon, producing an ever-changing palette of colors, I dissolve right along with it. In that moment, anything seems possible. The experience embodies pure tranquility. And of all the peninsula's sunsets, I believe Egg Harbor showcases them best. The natural, semi-protected bay creates a magnificent panorama bookended by a cape to the south and two islands to the north. It's as if the entire setting was specifically designed for this experience, allowing us to witness nature’s performance from orchestra-center seats atop a boulder-strewn harbor. This is the closest I can get to pure, unfiltered peace, and is a moment I treasure beyond measure.

Another thing Egg Harbor excels at is fostering "community." Everyone feels like your neighbor, and the entire town brims with friendly, helpful residents eager to make visitors feel welcome. Recently, the city launched a bike-share program! Without any fee, anyone can park at Main Street Market, the local grocery store, and borrow a beautiful, comfortable bicycle for as long or short a period as desired! During my last visit, I enjoyed a wonderful ride along a coastal back road, exploring parts of the peninsula I'd never seen before, all while receiving waves from locals as I passed their beautiful homes. They're as eager to share their land's beauty as I am to experience it, and during my brief stays, I truly feel at home.

Just north of Egg Harbor lies the second of the four western towns, Fish Creek. Renowned for its shopping scene and fish boils, the town also boasts an impressive bluff view of Green Bay when approaching from the south, courtesy of the Niagara Escarpment. This bluff marks the edge of a vast sedimentary rock layer, exposed by glaciers—the same edge that Niagara Falls cascades over 1,000 miles away. It's also responsible for the Great Lakes' (and Door County's) existence. While this geological feature impresses, I visit for something even better: pizza! Though Boston holds the record for my all-time favorite pizza (Pizzeria Regina), my second-favorite pizza worldwide resides in Fish Creek at a tiny hole-in-the-wall establishment called Wild Tomato… and they craft a damn good pie. Configured as one of those venues where capacity doubles during warmer months thanks to patio seating, Wild Tomato produces all their pizzas in a large, wood-fired brick oven. Each finished product looks worthy of a food magazine cover. Their dough, in my opinion, makes the pilgrimage worthwhile. It achieves the perfect balance: a crunchy exterior firm enough to support all desired toppings, combined with a soft, chewy interior that melts into your taste buds with the flavor you'd expect from the pizza of your dreams. Just writing this makes my stomach growl. Each week, they create a unique, specially-topped pizza whose profits benefit charity. The only downside to Wild Tomato is they don't deliver to the Milwaukee area, so we make sure to satisfy our cravings while there. Try it. I promise you won't be disappointed!

A short drive north of Fish Creek on Highway 42 brings us to Ephraim, perhaps the most picturesque of these lakeside communities. The city embraces the shore of a large bay just north of Peninsula State Park, complete with harbor parks, charming church steeples, historic shops, and Wilson's, a Norman Rockwell-esque ice cream parlor, featuring a red-and-white-striped awning and lakeside patio seating. I've been indulging in frozen treats here since childhood, and even as an adult, enjoying one of their twenty flavors makes me feel like a kid again. There's nothing particularly exceptional about the ice cream itself, but the view somehow enhances its flavor! Plus, every homemade waffle cone receives a jelly bean at the bottom so that, as the ice cream melts, dripping from below is minimized. It's a small, efficient, and playful solution to an age-old problem, leaving patrons childishly excited to discover whether the bean's flavor will be among their favorites. To this day, my family replicates this practice when serving cones at home! Wilson's location offers another advantage: after renting a kayak or paddle board in Ephraim Bay, I can easily treat myself to a "post-workout snack" and maintain my equilibrium.

The final "major" town on the peninsula's western side is Sister Bay. Door County was originally settled by Nordic immigrants, and nowhere else does that cultural influence shine more brightly. The entire city appears imported directly from a Swedish village… and if the architecture doesn't reveal this heritage, the Swedish flags flying everywhere certainly will! Sister Bay houses the famous (and admittedly touristy) Al Johnson's restaurant. Despite its "restaurant" designation, it more closely resembles a mini-IKEA, complete with a Swedish grocery store, gift shop, clothing boutique, post office, and, naturally, a restaurant. Oh, and there's a farm on the roof. Yes, you read correctly! Al Johnson's restaurant roof functions as a miniature farm. Rather than shingles, it's covered with wild grass. How do they prevent this grass from growing excessively long, you ask? With goats, of course! I promise, this isn't fiction! If you're fortunate, you'll spot several of them up there, munching grass and posing for photos taken by people below. If you'd prefer avoiding the "full tourist experience," I'd suggest skipping a meal at Al Johnson's, just visit for the novelty, then walk two blocks south to Door County Creamery to satisfy your hunger and sample the magic those goats can create! Inside, you'll find a beautiful assortment of caprine dairy products, ranging from savory to sweet. During a recent visit, I purchased delicious pimento chèvre and a freshly baked baguette, then strolled outside to Lakeside Park to enjoy them while watching waves roll in from the north. Afterward, right on the pier, I played an intense game of Bananagrams purchased for $3 from a thrift shop across the street. This epitomizes Door County's appeal. Everything happens spontaneously, and nobody judges you for it. Here, you can be whoever you want and do whatever you please, whenever the mood strikes.

While the peninsula's western side features charming towns and “greater civilization,” its eastern, Lake Michigan side presents the complete opposite: an unpopulated landscape of rustic, natural beauty.

For me, no trip would be complete without visiting Cave Point County Park, just south of Jacksonport. Here, Lake Michigan's waves have carved cave-like inlets into the Niagara Escarpment's limestone cliffs, creating breathtaking scenery. Standing at the edge, you can hear and feel the bass resonance of waves crashing against the bluffs below… and the more adventurous visitors can climb onto the fallen, truck-sized boulders protruding into the lake. Unlike the state parks on the peninsula, Cave Point, being a county park, offers free admission. And if climbing or spelunking doesn't appeal to you, it's also perfect for picnicking or gentle hiking. The park's northern section features an extensive rocky beach filled with numerous flat stones. Here, people have constructed a network of inuksuit, or Inuit-style land markers. These structures cover the entire beach, providing spectacular photo opportunities along with chances to indulge your inner LEGO enthusiast—something I've done on many occasions!

Despite Door County's abundance of activities, I particularly appreciate the explicit permission it grants me to DO NOTHING. The times when reading a book on the pier or playing cards with family is encouraged. When soaking in the hot tub for an hour or opening a wine bottle at 2 or 3 in the afternoon brings no guilt. Crosswords, magazines, napping, and other indulgences we typically deny ourselves at home. Sleep until 10? Why not make it 11? I'm on vacation! I can do whatever I want! The peninsula permits it. Because here, we don't worry about upcoming meetings or collecting kids from soccer practice. We don't concern ourselves with others' opinions. We're free to be ourselves. Free to go native, however that manifests. This is healthy.

Door County stands tall among my favorite places. From the lake's mesmerizing beauty to the charming towns that draw their spirits from its waters. From its rich tapestry of activities to the liberating realization that I can do absolutely nothing but relax. This place suits me perfectly. Over the years, it has renewed me in countless ways, and I always anticipate and cherish the time spent there.

The best part? Its remarkable accessibility. After leaving work on a Friday afternoon and a brief three-hour drive north, I'm already halfway through a beer before the stresses and worries of everyday life even realize I’ve escaped. And even if they do, they can't reach me here. The peninsula's magic renders me immune. In Door County, I find my true north, my perfect rhythm, my complete self. That thumb of Wisconsin reaching into Lake Michigan? It's reaching for something better. And for a few perfect days, so am I. To me, that's not just a vacation. It's coming home.

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