A midsummer backpacking overnighter at Newport State Park

I feel like I hit the jackpot one day on my lunch break. 

I randomly looked at campsites on the Wisconsin DNR's reservation website, eager for a weekend backpacking trip, and discovered there was an ultra rare opening at Newport State Park up in Door Count. Typically this never happens, as while it still remains an under-the-radar place to go backpacking in, Newport State Park is damn near impossible to secure a reservation during the peak season. This is a small part of the reason why in all the many times I've backpacked at my favorite patch of wilderness in Wisconsin it's been during the colder months (really though the winter solitude is just always breathtaking). Anyways, victory was in reach and I was able to successfully secure a reservation for just one Saturday night in late July. Not having to pack my winter backpacking gear and brave the oftentimes horrifically sub-zero temperatures, I was so ecstatic to explore Newport for the very first time outside during the heat of summer.

Early in the day Saturday, I loaded my pack and made the drive north in a glorious 2021 Chrysler Pacifica Plug-in Hybrid (one of the best vehicles on sale right now, in my opinion) to Newport State Park. When I arrived at 4:30 pm, a few slow hours of sunlight remained and temperatures were already 70 degrees warmer compared to the last time I had backpacked here seven months ago in January. There was no need for my 0-degree down sleeping bag, puffy, gloves, knit hat, or spikes attached to my hiking boots. I checked in at the park headquarters, filled up a few pouches of water, and headed off on the Monarch Trail that wove its way southeast through gorgeous prairies- a stark difference compared to Newport's craggy shorelines with scatterings of elaborate cedars or forests thick in pines and hemlocks. Below a jet blue sky, the prairies were alive and dotted with vibrant colorful wildflowers and grass.

Soon the trail connected with a another familiar path I've taken multiple times over the years, the Rowleys Bay trail. Pushing deeper into the woods, towards the southernmost point of the park, the daylight faded away behind the leafy canopies as I traced the shorelines leading east to Varney Point. I was amazed and rather humbled to see all of this cherished terrain and landscape free of snow, ice, and bareness. I passed a towering cedar tree shaped like a spade in a deck of cards, a sign that I was getting closer to site 9 on the very tip of Varney Point itself. But I had a couple more hours of daylight available and wanted to bag a few more miles so I continued on to the Ridge Trail. This rugged trail, another new one to me (likely because it disappears in the snow), skirts its way parallel along a bulging ridge of rock that's lined in soft fluffy green carpet moss that cued up memories of hikes I had done in Iceland, where carpet moss is found literally everywhere on the island.

At the intersection of the Newport Trail, I trekked south and southeast, returning towards the Varney Point area towards backcountry site 9. So in the handful of backpacking trips I've bagged at Newport since 2014, I've stayed at backcountry sites near Varney Point, Duck Bay, then towards Europe Bay and nearby Europe Lake at the northern boundary of the park, but backcountry site 9 was completely new to me. After 6.3 miles of hiking away from the trailhead, I arrived at a clearing on the point where I could pitch my Eureka 2 tent. With my tent setup, I scrambled down a path to the waters surrounding Varney Point. Clear, chilly, and clean. I splashed some on my face and looked out over the horizon north at the distant shorelines. I returned back to camp and found another overgrown path that led me to the end of peninsula, with postcard views in almost every direction. No other people and no developments, just pure Door County in the summer time. At 7:45 pm the golden hour light flooded the surface of Lake Michigan and the lone maple standing guard above my tent. I began boiling water and readied a dehydrated meal of exotic paid Thai from Mountain House along with a mug of tea. Today was also the first time I had gone backpacking since my bone graft surgery in March and I was definitely feeling a bit of exhaustion from working that still-recovering right knee. At dusk, I decided to call it a night, curl up in my tent, journal and pass out to the soundtrack of the lake's crashing waves and crickets singing.

I slept refreshingly well in ideal temperatures as temperatures dropped into the low 70s, maybe even high 60s. The moon shined bright like a spotlight down onto my tent. I awoke around 7:00 am and laid in my sleeping bag, relaxing and listening to the morning chorus of birds before unzipping the vestibule to prep for breakfast. I boiled water for a mug of tea and a batch of dehydrated milky strawberry granola oatmeal. I savored it slowly while reading a more few pages in Edward Abbey's Desert Solitaire that I brought along for some inspiration and gritty wisdom. His writing always sparks my wanderlust ambitions. With breakfast done, I cleaned up my mess kit and skipped around on the rocky shoreline of Varney Point that I had all to myself. The summer sun continued making its gradual ascent into the sky and it already felt wonderfully hot outside. The lake water splashing in and out of the point's little pockets of coves was clear as glass, so I stripped down for a refreshing dip amidst the choking humidity. Given the heat's blaring presence, I dried off almost immediately after regaining my footing and turning back to my tent. My itinerary for Sunday was to travel north towards Europe Bay at the tip of Newport's 2,400 acres. This was a similar plan to what I had completed months prior on a winter backpacking overnighter, where I found refuge along the eastern shores of Europe Lake in the cedars.

Even amidst the middle of summer, the tranquility was much welcomed, seeing only a handful of other hikers and backpackers on the trails. Like my reflections yesterday, it was really neat to experience Newport's terrain and resident wildlife in a different season. Following the more rugged Sand Cove Trail and Duck Bay Trails which winded its way along the shoreline, I stumbled upon a window in the pines and cedars that overlooked the beach of Newport Bay and snapped a couple photos. Passing past Lynd Point, I followed the Europe Bay Trail north through the woods and eventually reached the Hotz Trail loop. I remember the dense moody green of the hemlocks in this neck of the park and it was a treat to be engulfed in them. The needles of hemlocks are noticeably darker green, flatter, and shorter than those of neighboring pines. Their cones are smaller too and bark redder once the outer layers of bark flake off.

Tallying up some miles, I decided to begin my return to the trailhead in hopes to get on the road and be back home by dusk's arrival. Scoring a backcountry site at my favorite state park on a whim was a surprise bit of luck. There's a case to be made about exploring new places...but I also strongly believe there's also a case to be made for returning to the places you love. That's why I'll never grow tired of Newport. There's still so much more begging to be explored here.

Enjoy a few more photos below.

Cheers,
Robby

What gear to pack for a day hike

Planning a day hike? Here's what I think you should pack.

Preparation is key for any kind of outdoor adventure, whether a multi-day backpacking trip or a hike into the woods for a couple of hours. The more prepared you are... the more fun you can have, the safer you can be, and the further you can venture into the wilderness without fretting the intimidating what-ifs. I hope this post encourages you to reconsider how you approach going about on a day hike and reexamine what belongs in your daypack!

Since 2018 I've used a great daypack from Boulder Pack Co. that's proved to be a durable and lightweight (at 11.2 ounces) vessel for hauling around the necessities for whenever I plan a day hike. It can carry 28 liters worth of gear, is comfortable to wear, and compacts easily. There's a front pocket with a further zipped pouch for stashing away smaller important items, two mesh nets on the sides with clip straps, a carabiner, and a main pocket for the larger stuff. Unfortunately, in doing some research while writing this blog post, it appears Boulder Pack Co. might be out of business. But I could be wrong. In need of a solid daypack? Check REI, The Clymb, Backcountry.com, or your local gear store for one, as $40-$70 should buy you a solid daypack that's 20 to 40 liters in size.

So what's in my own daypack? Here's the rundown.

• Headlamp. Sometimes hikes take longer than expected and you may be out on the trail right as the sun starts to drop beneath the horizon. My go-to is one of my two headlamps from Black Diamond, and obviously, make sure the batteries are charged or fresh.
• Compass and map. Bring a paper map, folks. Regardless if you know the area. Cell phones lose service, can break unexpectedly, or die. Learn basic navigation with a compass (I have a basic one from Silva) and master to use one hand-in-hand with a map so you don't get lost. Topo maps, like ones from National Geographic or printable ones via Caltopo.com, are key when you're really in the backcountry.
• Rescue beacon or two-way communication device. I often like to go solo in the outdoors and a rescue beacon or PLB (personal locator beacon) is an easy piece of gear that can save your life should you run into an emergency. I've relied on a SPOT Gen 3 satellite messenger with GPS position tracking and a dedicated SOS should a search and rescue need to be orchestrated. Even on a shorter day hike, this is a worthy piece of extra insurance to have.
• Bug spray. Mosquitos suck and ticks do too, so I always spray on with repellant from Ben's.
• Knife. Again, a simple piece of gear that could prove handy in a pinch. I pack Sheffield's 12870 Moab knife with a 3.5-inch blade. You don't need a full-on machete, a strong little survival knife.
• First aid kit. This is mandatory and small first aid kits for hiking are super cheap! From thorny cuts, trips over rocks, bees, wild parsnip stings, or worse situations...spend the cash and buy one from American Medical Kits.
• Water. I usually lug with me one or two heavily stickered Nalgene bottles. Keep them full and drink often.
• Rain jacket or outer shell. Weather of course is unpredictable, so it's smart to stow away a light waterproof jacket or outer shell to shield you from the elements. I have a hooded breathable rain jacket from REI's own in-house Co-Op brand that works perfectly too as an extra layer should temperatures fall or the winds pick up.
• Journal. A travel journal and pen are a must for me. Unleash your inner Edward Abbey or Henry David Thoreau, or John Krakauer.
• Camera. I typically unplug and leave my cell phone either shut off when I depart on a day hike. That's when the Sony A6000 comes out to play. I like smaller point-and-shoot cameras or a mirrorless SLR. Channel that inspiration from Ansel Adams, yo.
• Snack. My daypack menu is usually a bag of granola, however, a mason jar of fresh snap peas or carrots or an apple does the trick too. Avoid the fake, processed crap though...that'll make you feel like garbage. Bonus trail snacks like black raspberries are the best, just give them a quick splash of water first.

Cheers,
Robby