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I don't get to camp much when I travel around this region. Camping is a leisurely kind of travel, and I’m usually moving
too fast.
But that doesn’t stop me from admiring a great campsite when I see one. And in wilderness areas where people can't rush
through, I've even gotten to use some of them.
Here are 15 of the campsites that have made me say, “Wow, this is really choice.’’
No summer vacation is more fun than a Circle Tour of one of the Great Lakes — and nothing is more of a pain than planning one.
Fans of sand and sun love Lake Michigan, which is lined by state and city parks with gorgeous stretches of sand and dunes. You can’t buy a better beach vacation at any price, but you have to plan ahead.
Planning is tricky because you pass through four states, 30 state parks and two big metropolitan areas, each of which floods beaches with hordes of sun-worshippers on weekends.
In Kandiyohi County, it's thanks to the last Ice Age that life's a beach today.
Near Willmar, a lobe of the last glacier came to a grinding halt 12,000 years ago, dumping massive blocks of ice that made big dents in the ground.
Now, they're lakes, popping up like mirages at the edge of soybean fields, behind screens of ash and cottonwoods. Farther north, they're hidden amid rocky meadows and rolling hillocks full of glacial rubble.
In summer, the nomads are on the move.
These days, their dwellings might look the same whether they’re herding yaks on the steppes of Kyrgyzstan or exploring tidepools along the Oregon coast. The round, cloth-sided hut called a yurt — or ger, in Mongolia — originated in Central Asia but now can be found in state parks across North America.
Oregon provided the first yurts for its campers in 1994 — “No tent? No RV? No problem. We’ve got you
covered’’ — and now offers them in 18 state parks, mostly along its famous coast.
People who want choice campsites in popular state parks need to plan ahead. Here's how to do it.
In Wisconsin, campsites can be reserved 11 months in advance. The most in-demand campsites are in Peninsula and Devil's Lake state parks and the Crystal Lake and Clear Lake campgrounds of Northern Highland-American Legion State Forest near Minocqua; call ReserveAmerica, 888-947-2757. There's a $10 reservation fee.
For people who love the outdoors, luxury is in the eye of the beholder.
Is it a Jacuzzi or a latrine? A four-course breakfast or a fire ring?
The answer is not so obvious. If the choice also includes starry skies, silence and snow-laden pines, many folks would take a camper cabin over a fancy inn, even if they have to use vault toilets and cook over a fire.
Had it with mosquitoes? Head for southeast Minnesota.
That's karst country, where porous limestone lies just under the surface and rain sinks into fast-moving underground streams that are chilled to 48 degrees when they run through the many cave systems.
Trout like it, but mosquitoes don't. There's no standing water, so there's nowhere for them to breed.
At its best, camping is like going to a resort, except cheaper.
You've got everything you need to have fun, except a roof. In Grand Marais, the municipal campground is right on Lake
Superior and next to the city's indoor pool and hot tub.
In Lanesboro, the campsites of Sylvan Park are right off the Root River State Trail, and campers can buy morning
pastries across the pond at the Saturday farmers' market.
Not all the beach camping in the Upper Midwest is in a state park or even in the countryside.
In the western suburbs of the Twin Cities, Three Rivers Park District offers camping and camper cabins on lakes in three park reserves. They’re a great deal for visitors and also for locals who want to save gas money and travel time.
The campsites at Baker Park Reserve in Maple Plain, near the beach on Lake Independence, are most popular. The campground includes four camper cabins with screened porches; three sleep six and one is accessible and sleeps five. They’re $50.
