Modern Stargazer Life

A rainy campsite setup, a surprise fear of heights, a classic camp store, and an unexpected circus museum—our trip to Devil’s Lake was a mix of flashbacks, laughter, teamwork, and a reminder that progress (and ice cream) beats perfection any day.

Progress, Not Perfection

Back in my working days, one of our favorite phrases was:
“Progress, not perfection.”

It reminded us to keep moving forward—even if things didn’t go perfectly. And that phrase rang loud and clear on our trip to Devil’s Lake State Park.

We thought we’d timed everything just right. Arrive early. Fill up with water. Get settled before the rain.
Instead? There was a line at the fill station. Then came the rain. Then came the challenge of backing Stargazer into a steep site… in the downpour… with a tree a little too close for comfort.

But here’s the victory:
We didn’t yell. Not once.
That alone is progress.

We worked as a team, soaking wet (rain jackets were inside the trailer), slipping on mud, laughing as we got everything set. Our camp neighbors came out in full rain gear just to watch the show and asked if Chris used to drive a semi. (He hasn’t—but we’re totally claiming that level of skill now.)

Classic Campground Feels

Did you know Devil’s Lake is the most popular state park in Wisconsin?
After spending time there, I can absolutely see why. It’s classic, picturesque, and has everything you’d imagine in a state park—a beach, scenic bluffs, hiking trails, a big camp store, and of course, ice cream.

It reminded me of Girl Scout trips with my daughter and camp from The Parent Trap—even though it wasn’t exactly like either one. Girl Scout camp was much simpler, but perfect for the fun and friendship of that age. And The Parent Trap? Well, it’s one of my favorite movies, so maybe that’s why it came to mind. The North Shore Chateau, with its stone walls, café, and souvenir shop, just gave off that classic summer camp vibe and brought back all the nostalgic feels.

We treated ourselves to ice cream cones and actually got to sit and enjoy them because it was midweek, uncrowded, and calm—another perk of retired-life gallivanting.

Midweek Gallivanting

There’s something we’re really starting to enjoy about gallivanting midweek.
Yep, gallivanting.

It’s a word my mom used all the time—though often with a slightly disapproving tone, like we were off goofing around when we should’ve been doing something more productive. But I looked it up recently:

Gallivanting: to go around from one place to another in pursuit of pleasure or entertainment.

Sounds exactly like what we’re doing now—and proudly so.

I think my mom would get a kick out of it. I can hear her laughing and saying,
“Yep, you two are definitely gallivanting.”

And we’re loving every minute of it.

High Hikes & Low Realizations

We took on a few hikes during our stay—Devil’s Lake is famous for its rocky trails and dramatic views. One trail in particular was listed as “short,” but the part it didn’t mention? That it was practically vertical.

About three-quarters of the way up, something strange happened: I realized…
I’m afraid of heights.

I’ve never thought of myself that way. But suddenly my heart was pounding, my knees felt wobbly, and I had to sit down and assess the situation. Chris offered to “catch me” if I slipped, but I reminded him, “Let’s be honest—if I go down, we both go down!”

Feet firmly back on level ground, I laughed it off and found a different trail—one with a view and no panic attacks required.

Have you ever discovered something surprising about yourself later in life—like a fear you didn’t know you had?

Lions, Tigers… and Clowns?

The next day brought more rain, so we headed into downtown Baraboo and found a cozy diner for a warm breakfast. On the way back to the campsite, I spotted a sign that stopped me in my tracks:
“Circus World Museum.”

Well that’s not something you see every day.
“Turn around!” I shouted.
And just like that, we were buying tickets.

Baraboo was once home to the Ringling Brothers, and this museum sits on the original winter quarters of the circus performers, animals, and equipment. I had never been to a circus, and honestly, it’s kind of wild to imagine them now.

I mean—the costumes, the stunts, the animals, the clowns.
It was theatrical, dangerous, and extravagant… and yet such a huge part of American entertainment history. Seeing the museum helped me understand the allure of it all—the sense of wonder, the community, the spectacle.

Chris even remembered his grandpa taking him to see the circus as a boy. What a memory.

Have you ever been to a circus? Or are you firmly in the “afraid of clowns” camp?
No judgment here—those painted faces can be a lot.

In fact, I didn’t even take any pictures of the clown exhibits. Somewhere between discovering my fear of heights and walking past those wide-eyed, grinning faces, I realized something else:
I don’t like clowns either.
Apparently, this trip was full of self-discovery.