Door County has always been known as a place where Midwesterners can get away from the city without abandoning conviviality or creature comforts. With lakefront resorts, restaurants and bars, fish boils, live theater and chartered fishing, it has always offered a variety of entertaining options involving social interaction.
In the COVID-19 era, there are fewer chances for such mingling, and less interest in it. But that doesn’t mean Door County should be off your list of vacation spots. It became a tourist destination first because of its natural beauty, much of which can still be enjoyed. That’s particularly true of Newport State Park outside Ellison Bay.
The 2,400-acre park offers 11 miles of shoreline on the Lake Michigan side of the peninsula, and it’s designated as a state wilderness area. As such, it’s for those who like their nature unimproved. Aside from a bare minimum number of parking lots, restrooms, picnic tables and grills, it’s lacking in amenities.
That makes it perfect for those who like hiking, backpack camping or wading swimming in open water. The trails, which cover more than 30 miles, are among the main attractions. They are unpaved, and most are open to bicyclists.
In mid-July, I was looking for a place to camp for a couple of nights. Checking online, I found that the backpacking sites at Newport were mostly booked for weeks in advance, with only an occasional single night available. I grabbed the first one I could get rather than wait till September, paying a fee of $32.75. My plan was to arrive around noon and stay until late the following afternoon, maximizing my time to explore the park.
The park has 17 backpacking sites (including one group site), all within a couple of miles of a parking lot. They are placed well off the trails, along the lakefront, giving campers complete privacy. (The only exception I noticed was Site 11.) All include a fire ring, a bench or two, a metal storage bin to foil foraging wildlife, and a pit toilet (though no toilet paper).
Stopping at the visitors center, which was closed, I picked up a map and took a walk on the adjacent Upland Trail, a pleasant 2-mile jaunt, then drove on to a parking lot closer to my destination. (An annual Wisconsin parks vehicle sticker, which must be purchased online, is required for entry. Nonresidents pay $38.) I had my lunch, hoisted my pack and headed south down the Newport Trail, through a dense forest, to a campsite on Duck Bay.
My spot had the advertised trappings. What it conspicuously lacked was something I expected in a lakefront park: a nice view of and access to the water. Thick vegetation blocked the way. Presumably there was a beach before Lake Michigan rose to its current heights, but if so, it was under water. Anyone hoping for a refreshing dip or wade would have to look elsewhere. On the plus side, there was plenty of dead wood to burn.
I pitched my tent, stashed my food and then went off on a loop that included the Ridge Trail. Despite being slathered in insect repellent, I found myself swarmed by mosquitoes. On my return, I passed an hour reading before having dinner, with the mosquitoes still providing company.
With the sun sinking in the sky, I was diverted by the sight of a half-dozen spiders furiously spinning their webs between the branches of a tree that had fallen into the water. The low light rendered the webs invisible, making the spiders appear to be climbing on thin air. A bald eagle cruised by headed north, and a heron made an appearance going south.
Newport has been classified as a Dark Sky Park by the International Dark Sky Association because the absence of light pollution affords exceptional views of the heavens. Some astronomy-minded visitors come after sunset, and the park brochure directs them to three locations “with optimal viewing,” all close to parking.
I got up after midnight to check it out, but the half-moon was too bright for good star-gazing, and trees allowed only a cramped view anyway. After going back to sleep, I awoke at 4:45 to the sun rising and a chorus of geese honking. I noted with vengeful satisfaction that the webs under construction the evening before were speckled with doomed mosquitoes.
After breaking camp and lugging my pack to my car, I spent the rest of the day traversing the trails on the north side of Newport, which are a bit hillier, sunnier and closer to the water. Benches can be found every mile or two. On a sunny 75-degree weekday, I encountered only a couple of dozen other hikers. Everyone wore a mask or kept a respectful distance in passing.
The Hotz Trail features a few spots with access to Europe Lake, which covers 297 acres, and two backpacking sites. It links up with the Europe Bay Trail to form a 7-mile loop, the longest in the park.
On the Lake Michigan side, there are long sand beaches, as well as rock outcroppings with spots to sit, rest your legs and watch the waves roll in. An unexpected bonus was that on the north side, for reasons I can’t explain, there were no mosquitoes.
Newport is not the place for strenuous adventure. Only one path struck me as unsuitable for small children — the narrow, rocky Lynd Point Trail. It was there, on my final leg, that I came around a turn and almost collided with a young woman wearing a sundress and high-heeled ankle boots that were perfect — for brunch in Fish Creek.
When she asked about her location and what lay ahead, I told her what I could and suggested that she might want to find a gentler path. But she was resolved to proceed, without the map I offered. “It would be meaningless,” she laughed. “I can’t read maps.”
This being Newport, she probably survived. Those boots? Maybe not.
