Summer’s Off to a Great Start
Time to share the fun we've had.
We left for the cottage, first time this year, on May 23rd.
We arrived safely at about 11:30 pm.
The first morning we decided to eat out for breakfast, a true treat for me since I’m always cooking (and then cleaning). Oliver had blueberry pancakes. I had to have the Fisherman's Breakfast (Gills Rock is a little fishing village) with Swedish Pancakes smothered in butter.
We did mange to have some fun that day just hanging around the cottage even tho a majority of the time I had to unpack and set things up.
At the end of the day, Oliver washed up, put on appropriate sleep attire and held my hand as we walked down to the harbor to wish sweet dreams to the sun. We watched the sun set nearly every night that weekend because we just couldn't get enough of it. The day’s end never gets old, and each closing had its own unique colors.
We adored the cherry blossoms. So gorgeous.
We (Oliver) played in the water at Ellison Bay.
We weren’t the only ones enjoying the beauty of the bay.
But mostly we had the place to ourselves.
Then another sunset that evening. You might recognize the landscape as this is Hedge Hog Harbor in Gills Rock where our cottage resides.
As the sun set, we traveled south.
A bit further south is Sister Bay. We love Sister Bay because....
Door County Ice Cream Factory is there. They make the world’s best chocolate ice cream happily laden with humungous chunks of chocolate. It's called Death’s Door Chocolate. And it’s the best.
The flavor was named after the area actually. Door County was called Death’s Door in the 1700’s and refers to the strait between the peninsula and Washington Island (where Green Bay meets Lake Michigan). The waters were so dangerous and littered with shipwrecks, it became known as Death’s Door by the Native Americans, or depending upon which account of history you choose to believe, some say the French called it Porte des Mortes, translated Door of Death, as way to scare off the English traders of the time.
Whichever folklore you believe (there are many stories) it truly doesn't matter to this little guy because he just loves the homemade ice cream flavored rich in history.
The next day we toured Wisconsin Bay Road, a windy, hilly venture with very little traffic. We are just beginning our training, so we had to hoof it up a few hills, but the rewards were generous as we sailed down hills. I was the one to watch first hand as my son squealed in excitement as he rode down his first big big hill. The overwhelming awesomeness surprised him as he realized how incredible it was to immerse his little self in the experience. I rode alongside him, guarding him like a mother bear would, but allowing him to feel free. The squeals. The laughter. They made my whole weekend.
In this video, he was a seasoned speed cyclist, just 10 miles later. And I resumed my mamma-bear status. By then he had already turned in front of me once and cut in front of a car. Luckily the car (SUV) saw us and stopped, so when Oliver cut in front of him, he was barely moving. Like a dog spotting a rabbit, Oliver had caught site of a playground and made a sharp turn toward it. This time around, I wasn’t taking any chances. But he still rode with exuberance. If you can bear the wind noise, you’ll be able to make out his squeals.
The rocky scenery was gorgeous too.
We also made it to Peninsula State Park where we got to ride on crushed limestone trails.
We had to stop to chase a butterfly tho....
These are the types of roads in between towns, a stark contrast to our busy life at home.
At the end of day two in our first visit, we decided to go to the drive-in theatre. We had a ton of time to spare, so we went down the road to the local beach just as the sun was about to set. The water is ankle deep with sand so soft your toes are awash in luxury.
The Croods. Quite funny.
On Memorial Day we walked across the street to the semi-annual fish boil. The fishermen invite all the locals to their fishery for a giant potluck luncheon, rural North American style.
Gloria and Roger Johnson, aka Gramma Johnson and Grampa Johnson, saving us a seat each time.
There are no shortage of grampas around to entertain and love on Oliver.
Fresh Whitefish caught just that morning melts in your mouth and tastes sweet as lobster. The most tender, buttery, salty-sweet boiled potatoes ever.
Grampa Johnson, our next-door neighbor always looking out for us.
Old and quaint.
This is a marina in Sister Bay, much more highfalutin than the fishing village our cottage is in. The homes, about 20 x the size of of our cottage, sell for 1.5 mil here.
But oh what a view.
In case you haven't seen our cottage yet, here it is.
That’s about all I have for now! Life is good! (Told you I’d come out of this funk!) :)
We left for the cottage, first time this year, on May 23rd.
We arrived safely at about 11:30 pm.
The first morning we decided to eat out for breakfast, a true treat for me since I’m always cooking (and then cleaning). Oliver had blueberry pancakes. I had to have the Fisherman's Breakfast (Gills Rock is a little fishing village) with Swedish Pancakes smothered in butter.
We did mange to have some fun that day just hanging around the cottage even tho a majority of the time I had to unpack and set things up.
At the end of the day, Oliver washed up, put on appropriate sleep attire and held my hand as we walked down to the harbor to wish sweet dreams to the sun. We watched the sun set nearly every night that weekend because we just couldn't get enough of it. The day’s end never gets old, and each closing had its own unique colors.
We adored the cherry blossoms. So gorgeous.
We (Oliver) played in the water at Ellison Bay.
We weren’t the only ones enjoying the beauty of the bay.
But mostly we had the place to ourselves.
Then another sunset that evening. You might recognize the landscape as this is Hedge Hog Harbor in Gills Rock where our cottage resides.
As the sun set, we traveled south.
A bit further south is Sister Bay. We love Sister Bay because....
Door County Ice Cream Factory is there. They make the world’s best chocolate ice cream happily laden with humungous chunks of chocolate. It's called Death’s Door Chocolate. And it’s the best.
The flavor was named after the area actually. Door County was called Death’s Door in the 1700’s and refers to the strait between the peninsula and Washington Island (where Green Bay meets Lake Michigan). The waters were so dangerous and littered with shipwrecks, it became known as Death’s Door by the Native Americans, or depending upon which account of history you choose to believe, some say the French called it Porte des Mortes, translated Door of Death, as way to scare off the English traders of the time.
Whichever folklore you believe (there are many stories) it truly doesn't matter to this little guy because he just loves the homemade ice cream flavored rich in history.
The next day we toured Wisconsin Bay Road, a windy, hilly venture with very little traffic. We are just beginning our training, so we had to hoof it up a few hills, but the rewards were generous as we sailed down hills. I was the one to watch first hand as my son squealed in excitement as he rode down his first big big hill. The overwhelming awesomeness surprised him as he realized how incredible it was to immerse his little self in the experience. I rode alongside him, guarding him like a mother bear would, but allowing him to feel free. The squeals. The laughter. They made my whole weekend.
In this video, he was a seasoned speed cyclist, just 10 miles later. And I resumed my mamma-bear status. By then he had already turned in front of me once and cut in front of a car. Luckily the car (SUV) saw us and stopped, so when Oliver cut in front of him, he was barely moving. Like a dog spotting a rabbit, Oliver had caught site of a playground and made a sharp turn toward it. This time around, I wasn’t taking any chances. But he still rode with exuberance. If you can bear the wind noise, you’ll be able to make out his squeals.
The rocky scenery was gorgeous too.
We also made it to Peninsula State Park where we got to ride on crushed limestone trails.
We had to stop to chase a butterfly tho....
These are the types of roads in between towns, a stark contrast to our busy life at home.
At the end of day two in our first visit, we decided to go to the drive-in theatre. We had a ton of time to spare, so we went down the road to the local beach just as the sun was about to set. The water is ankle deep with sand so soft your toes are awash in luxury.
The Croods. Quite funny.
On Memorial Day we walked across the street to the semi-annual fish boil. The fishermen invite all the locals to their fishery for a giant potluck luncheon, rural North American style.
Gloria and Roger Johnson, aka Gramma Johnson and Grampa Johnson, saving us a seat each time.
There are no shortage of grampas around to entertain and love on Oliver.
Fresh Whitefish caught just that morning melts in your mouth and tastes sweet as lobster. The most tender, buttery, salty-sweet boiled potatoes ever.
Grampa Johnson, our next-door neighbor always looking out for us.
Old and quaint.
This is a marina in Sister Bay, much more highfalutin than the fishing village our cottage is in. The homes, about 20 x the size of of our cottage, sell for 1.5 mil here.
But oh what a view.
In case you haven't seen our cottage yet, here it is.
That’s about all I have for now! Life is good! (Told you I’d come out of this funk!) :)
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