We didn’t plan on turning Door County into a summer therapy session—and no, this isn’t in the order that we traveled. Potawatomie came first, but it wasn’t until our later trip to Peninsula that I started noticing just how different these two neighboring parks really are. Their contrasting personalities stuck with me—and that’s when this story took shape.
After visiting Potawatomie State Park in Sturgeon Bay and Peninsula State Park in Fish Creek, I realized something surprising:
State parks are kind of like people.
🟢 Have you ever visited a place that felt like it had its own personality?
And if you’re willing to listen (and maybe hike a little), they’ll tell you a lot about themselves—and maybe even a little about you.
Each one left its mark. But together, they reminded me just how much we crave connection—to nature, to memory, to family, and even to unexpected parts of ourselves.
Meet Potawatomie: The Calm, Cozy Introvert (with a Side of Spiders)
We visited Pottawatomie State Park in early spring, when the skies were crystal clear, the air was crisp, and the spring sun felt warmer and more intense than winter, like it was finally reclaiming the season.
This park? She’s not loud. She doesn’t rush you.
She invites you to slow down, sit by the water, and maybe pull out that journal you’ve been meaning to write in. She’s like that childhood friend who still knows your favorite snack and lets you talk about the big stuff–or the nothing stuff–without judgment.
On one of our quiet morning walks, we wandered down to the rocky shore and it was so still, so peaceful, it felt like we had the entire shoreline to ourselves. Well, almost to ourselves. There were, let’s say, a few uninvited guests.
As I clumsily crunched along the rocks, large black spiders scrambled away, clearly annoyed that I had ruined their morning. I felt bad—like I had barged into someone’s peaceful breakfast. Oddly enough, I didn’t freak out. No screaming. No panicked dance. Just a mild sense of guilt that I had disturbed their home.
Now, let me be clear—if I saw one of those spiders in our Airstream or at home, I would 100% scream at the top of my lungs and beg someone to “kill it!” But here, in the wild? I surprised myself and immediately thought of my dad.
“My dad never hurt anything. If a bug showed up inside the house, he’d gently coax it onto a piece of paper and carry it outside. I’m usually more smash-first, apologize-later. But on that quiet rocky shore, I felt a little more like him.”
Everything at Potawatomie felt like a soft launch into summer. Not everything was open yet, and that was okay. It made finding cherry pie feel like a full-on treasure hunt. We scoured roadside stands and tiny town markets until, on a small country road, we struck gold at Cherry De-Lite: the very last pie in the freezer, ours for the taking.
It reminded me of the lengths I used to go to as a kid to find chocolate-covered cherries for my dad—a small box, a Christmas or birthday gift, because I knew how much he loved them.
Enter Peninsula: The Extroverted Sister with a Day Planner
Fast forward to mid-July, and we’re setting up camp at Peninsula State Park in Fish Creek. If Potawatomie is your quiet friend with a journal, Peninsula is her spirited sister who’s already planned your whole weekend—complete with brunch reservations, a scenic bike ride, and a reminder to wear your good sandals. She moves fast, talks with her hands, and always knows where to find the best pie and the best views. She’s charming, stylish, and somehow still down-to-earth—the kind of park that convinces you to stay just a little longer.
🗺️ Day 1: Stair Climbing and Confidence Building
We kicked off our first full day with a visit to Eagle Tower—and wow, what a way to rise and shine! The tower has wide, sturdy stairs that make the climb a breeze, plus a beautifully designed ramp that spirals all the way up, making the whole experience feel a bit like an outdoor museum meets scenic overlook. I realized it’s not heights I mind—it’s scary descents on rocks with no railings (looking at you, Devil’s Lake).
But Eagle Tower? Built like a dream. Chris and I took the ramp down just for fun, and it was surprisingly delightful—like a scenic walk in the treetops.
🥾 Eagle Trail: Beauty Worth Sharing
Then came the Eagle Trail, a dramatic hike that feels straight out of a fantasy forest. It’s rocky and rooty with layers of stone ledges and twisted cedar roots that belong in an enchanted novel. It’s a bit rugged but offers breathtaking views along the bluffs.
The views were so beautiful! I stopped mid-hike to send pictures and texts to my camping friends and our kids. I was missing them, and I knew they’d appreciate the moment as much as Chris and I did. It was one of those “wish you were here” texts that’s not just a line, it’s a little tug of the heart. Some moments make you stop, look around, and instantly think of who you want to share it with. Peninsula gave us a lot of those.
🟢 Do you have a place that instantly makes you think of someone you miss?
Later, we stopped by Nicolet Beach which was cute, but a bit too weedy for swimming in my opinion. We didn’t have time to rent a kayak, but I grabbed my usual magnet and sticker from the camp store, which had a great souvenir section. It’s also where Chris spotted a woman with a cool patchwork bucket hat. He was too shy to ask her about it but pointed it out to me, and just like that, our hat hunt began.
We stopped by the Eagle Bluff Lighthouse, admired it from the outside, and decided to skip the tour in favor of exploring the shoreline nearby. It was the perfect mix of history and natural beauty.
🛍️ Town Vibes and the Elusive Hat
That evening, we decided to head into Fish Creek to experience the resort town vibe. It doesn’t give off “tourist trap” energy with plastic souvenirs and tacky t-shirts. Instead, it had that upscale-but-inviting charm, a “let’s check out this llama-themed boutique” kind of vibe. The kind of place where you’re happy to browse, sip a drink, and maybe splurge on something cute.
We grabbed drinks at Hill Street Café and enjoyed some quality people-watching. There was a perfect mix of folks–some dressed to the nines for a night out, others still in their “just left the beach” look. We fit right in. And just steps away from the bustling sidewalks were peaceful, quiet views that felt like a continuation of our earlier hike.
Dinner at The Loft was delicious—Chris had chicken parm, I had salmon cakes, and we left happily full (no dessert needed, for once). But the real memory of the night? The elusive patchwork bucket hat.
We first saw the girl wearing it at the beachside camp store, where Chris admired it but didn’t ask about it. Then, like a cosmic nudge, we spotted her again in downtown Fish Creek—but she was too far away, and the moment passed. That hat became legend.
Naturally, we spent the next day scanning shops in Ephraim, Sister Bay, and back in Fish Creek—hoping we’d stumble upon its twin. No luck. The hat will remain a mystery.
Back at the campground, we made a quick stop at one of Peninsula’s quirkiest features—a fancy firewood vending machine. Instructions: 1) Swipe your card, 2) Look at nature, 3) Grab your bundle. It’s convenient, yes, but hilariously overpriced. Still, it made us laugh.
🔥 Morning Fires and Cherry Pie Redemption (x3)
The next morning, we made egg burritos over a campfire, sipped our coffee slowly, and took a peaceful hike on the Minnehaha Trail. The waves lapped gently at the shore, and I felt the kind of calm that only happens when you’re not thinking about what’s next.
And yes—because it’s us, we made one last stop before leaving Door County. We call it the Great Cherry Pie Stop.
This time, the haul was legendary:
- A whole cherry pie, still warm from the oven
- A half strawberry rhubarb pie
- A half mixed berry pie
- A pint of cherries
- Fudge for Rita (Chris’ mom)
- And yes… a pair of cherry-print socks for me
🟢 How far would you go for the perfect slice of cherry pie?
We dropped in to see Chris’ mom on the way home. Green Bay isn’t exactly on the way, but we always make the effort—because it matters. We love connecting with her, whether we’re coming or going. It’s become a priority for us, and every visit is a reminder that family time is worth the detour. We caught up over lunch, shared some laughs, and simply enjoyed being together. The fudge was for her, but the warm cherry pie? Let’s just say we kept that one “in the family.”
💬 Final Thoughts: The People (and Parks) That Stay With You
Potawatomie and Peninsula are so different, yet I loved them both. One whispered. The other cheered. One gave me space to reflect. The other gave me a reason to laugh—and to be a little braver, a little more social, and a little more open to surprise moments of joy.
Both made me grateful—for quiet mornings, sturdy stairs, mystery hats, and that ever-important hunt for the perfect pie.
You don’t have to pick a favorite.
Just keep showing up, keep making the effort, and keep connecting with the people and places that feed your soul.
Modern Stargazer Life 
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