Modern Stargazer Life

Sometimes travel reminds us that what we “see” isn’t always what’s really there. At Hartman Creek State Park, my eyes played tricks on me right from the start.

Mistaken Eyes

I thought I had everything planned perfectly: reservations made months in advance, campsite number written neatly in our family calendar. The problem was, I had transferred the information incorrectly. For some reason, when I read the reservation email, I saw “77” as “71” and entered 71 on our family calendar. And of course, that’s the number I went by when we pulled into the campground and set up. Chalk it up to my bad eyes—71 and 77 look close enough when you’re not looking carefully! So there we were, comfortably set up on the wrong site, when the camp host stopped by to confirm our reservation. That’s when I pulled up the original email and realized my mistake—our spot was actually 77, not 71.

Cue the other campers arriving, ready to claim their rightful site, and Chris and me springing into action. We packed up and moved our Airstream in record time—30 minutes down, 30 minutes up. In the end, it became less about my mistake and more about how far we’ve come as campers. We handled it like pros and even impressed ourselves.

👉 Have you ever made a campsite blunder like this—setting up in the wrong spot, or discovering too late you weren’t where you thought you were? The camp host tried to assure me it happens more often than you’d think, but I’d love to hear your stories.

Seeing Summer Stretch On

Summer has been stubborn this year, hanging on with 80-degree days deep into September / early October. Our stay at Hartman Creek felt like an encore of July: warm breezes, blue skies, and a chance to soak in the resort-like vibes of the Chain O’ Lakes in Waupaca.

Though weekday travel meant we missed out on a boat tour (most shut down at the end of September and then down to limited runs on the weekends), we still got to see the lakes shimmering in the sun. Even without an official cruise, the beauty of the area came through loud and clear.

On one of the trails near Allen Lake, we followed the sound of rushing water. It was loud enough that I pictured a big, dramatic dam spilling over with power. When we finally came upon it, I had to laugh—it was just a small, rather plain dam. The sound was impressive, but the view wasn’t exactly postcard-worthy. It was one of those funny reminders that what we expect to see isn’t always what’s really there. I stood for a while, enjoying the sounds if not the sight.

Seeing the Trail Differently

We’ve started packing our e-bikes for every trip now that Chris added a bike rack to the Airstream, and Hartman Creek gave us the perfect weather for a ride. After hiking at the campground, we headed out for a longer adventure on the Tomorrow River State Trail. The path follows an abandoned railroad, stretching flat through scenic farmland. It wasn’t the most thrilling ride, but it was wonderfully peaceful with the crunch of gravel under tires, birds singing in the trees, and wide-open views of the countryside.

Then we saw something unexpected. A huge snake–easily three or four feet long–slid across the trail. We couldn’t believe our eyes! The size and color of the snake was something we had never seen before. We stopped, jumped off our bikes, and just managed to snap a picture of its tail before it disappeared.

ChatGPT later told me it was a King snake, nonvenomous, but not native to Wisconsin—likely someone’s former pet, released to fend for itself. At first I was startled, but then I felt a little sad. This snake has no chance of surviving a Wisconsin winter.

It was one of those moments that shifted how I saw the season ahead. While I’m excited for fall and the crisp air to come, seeing that snake reminded me that change can be both beautiful and unforgiving.

👉 What's the most unexpected wildlife encounter you've had on a hike or bike ride? Were you startled, amused, or downright scared?

A Different Kind of Vision

This trip reminded me how often we “see” something one way, only to realize later we had it wrong—or maybe it’s just not the full picture. A campsite number, a season that refuses to quit, or even the way we see ourselves as campers.

Back in our early Airstream days, a mistake like the campsite mix-up—setting up on 71 when we were supposed to be on 77—would have rattled us completely. Chris would have been mad about it, and we would have gotten into a fight before finally settling down and starting over. I know I would have been flustered, embarrassed, and overwhelmed by the thought of tearing everything down and redoing it all.

But this time, we saw it differently: as proof that we’ve grown, learned, and can handle the unexpected with calm and even a little pride.

Looking Ahead

Hartman Creek gave us more than just a few warm days by the lakes. It gave us perspective—the kind that comes when your vision shifts and you see both your mistakes and your progress with fresh eyes.