Camping in Brule River State Forest

October 3, 2026 / mariezhuikov / 14 Comments

Russ and I took our Scamp trailer recently to northern Wisconsin for our one-and-only camping trip of the summer. We’d tried to camp earlier in the season, but had trouble making reservations in state and provincial parks because the reservations get snapped up so fast. We even woke up once before 6 a.m. to try and make a reservation but open spots were gone in seconds!

Thankfully, sites were available at the Bois Brule Campground, which I got to know during my stint as a Road Scholar trip leader this summer. We made reservations for three nights in mid-September.

One warning, however! Non-Wisconsin residents need to be prepared for extra fees, plus you need to buy a Wisconsin State Parks vehicle pass. If my memory serves me correctly, we ended up paying more than $150 for the privilege of staying in our camper in a place without electricity or running water. (There is a hand pump, however, and artesian wells nearby.) But we were determined to go camping, dammit! So, we made the reservation.

*See the heart shape in the trees over our campsite?*

Campsites nestled among tall pines and carpeted with pine needles attracted us to this campground near the Brule River. Plus, it was less than an hour’s drive from Duluth, and it had reservations available.

Our first evening, we took a walk around the campground. Ironically, we met some other Scamp owners who lived in Duluth! It felt funny to travel someplace distant and yet meet people who lived not far from us. We enjoyed a campfire that night as we listened to barred owls hoot along the riverbanks.

The next morning, we hiked the Stoney Hill Nature Trail, which is accessible from the campground and covers 1.6 miles in a loop. Interpretive signs along the way provide information about the natural and cultural history of the Brule River State Forest.

We chose to hike the loop clockwise for a less strenuous hike. (The other direction features a steep 184-foot climb that we would rather walk down than up.) The trail culminated in a lookout over the Brule River Valley. But once we arrived, we had to laugh because we couldn’t see a thing. The lookout is overgrown with trees! But we enjoyed the exercise and learning more about the area.

After lunch, we drove to Bayfield, a town about an hour away on the shores of Lake Superior. Our first stop was the Apfelhaus Cidery. Part of the Hauser Farm, the cidery is run by a former coworker of mine and her husband. The apples come from their own orchard. I’d seen the cidery tasting room when it was under construction and was excited to see it now that it’s open.

We ordered a flight of four different ciders. Two were alcoholic and two were N/A. We enjoyed the N/A offerings best because they were sweeter. Our favorite was the cherry variety. As we sipped, we enjoyed a view of Lake Superior from the cidery’s perch atop a ridge.

Sated by cider, we made our way down the ridge to town. We spent time shopping and perusing the many art galleries and gift stores there. For supper, we ate on a dock jutting out into Lake Superior at Hoops Fish and Chips Dockside. Hoops is a commercial fishing operation, and they serve lake whitefish caught that morning. They used to only offer it fried and breaded with French fries but now have added it grilled with rice. I’d eaten there before but Russ hadn’t. We ordered one of each dish. Both were excellent! They also serve Apfelhaus cider.

On our way back to the campground, we stopped at the infamous Moquah Bar, which you can read all about in a separate post, “We Survived the Moquah Bar.”

After another quiet night and campfire, we awoke the next morning to a mostly empty campground. Most of the other campers are fly fishers, who leave at the crack of dawn to fish the Brule River, which is famous for its trout.

*The Brule-St. Croix Portage Nature Trail*

We hiked again, this time traveling about a half-hour to Upper St. Croix Lake, near Solon Springs. The picnic area there is home to the Brule-St. Croix Portage Trail, which is what the Voyageurs and fur traders of old used to travel from Lake Superior to the Brule River and Upper St. Croix Lake. This would then take them into the St. Croix River, which led to the Mississippi River and beyond.

At the trailhead, you can either choose the portage trail or a bog trail that leads to a boardwalk. I’d already been on the bog trail, so we hiked the portage trail. It begins with a steep incline up a ridge but then levels out after that. Along the way stone markers commemorated historic explorers from the fur trade era. We hiked about half the trail.

After returning to the campground for lunch, we headed out with our bikes on the car to the small town of Ino, Wisconsin. Our goal was Forest Road 236, a seldom-traveled picturesque back road good for cycling and motorcycling. We rode 30 miles and only saw a few other vehicles.

We returned to the campground to enjoy our classic camping dinner of scrambled eggs and Spam. The only thing that would have made it better was if we had remembered to pack the ketchup!

As our trip came to a close, we reflected on the joys of camping in northern Wisconsin—from peaceful hikes and friendly encounters to delicious meals shared under the pines with the gurgle of the Bois Brule in the background. Sipping crisp apple cider with a view of Lake Superior was a highlight, perfectly capturing the spirit of relaxation and adventure that defined our getaway. We left feeling grateful for the memories made. I’m not sure if we’ll have other camping adventures since we are considering selling our Scamp. If this was our last outing, it was a good one!

We Survived the Moquah Bar

September 17, 2026 / mariezhuikov / 19 Comments

*My shadow in front of the Moquah Bar. Proof that I really was there!*

During a recent camping trip to the town of Brule in northern Wisconsin, Russ and I meandered to a place we’d noticed several times on a highway detour a few years ago. This establishment is in the tiny town of Moquah (pronounced Muck-wa, Algonquin for bear). Whenever we passed the small building, the door was always open, which looked inviting. Not so inviting was its ramshackle plywood construction. Through the open door, we could glimpse a low ceiling and bar stools. The homemade sign out front proclaimed this intriguing venue was the Moquah Bar.

At 5 p.m. on a Saturday, we girded our loins and decided to pay the bar a visit. We parked out back by the outhouse, also made of plywood. We walked past the outdoor seating area, which consisted of picnic tables on a cement slab surrounded by concrete blocks. Evidence of last night’s festivities (or maybe several nights’ worth) littered the tables. Apparently, if patrons don’t pick up after themselves, nobody else does, either.

We peeked inside the open doorway. Dollar bills, graffiti, can cozies, bras, and underwear festooned the ceiling and walls. Nobody else was there except for a white-haired man behind the bar. He looked up from his book but didn’t offer a greeting. I got the feeling he’d rather keep reading. And I was okay with that. I’m an author, after all!

We later learned (thanks to social media) that the barkeep/owner’s name is Bud. He’s been running the bar since 1975. When it burned in the 1980s, Bud slapped together a new place out of plywood. The Moquah Bar is known as the Plywood Palace, and also as one of Wisconsin’s diviest dive bars.

We tried to engage Bud in conversation, but he’s hard of hearing, so that didn’t last long. Russ managed to ask him what the story was with all the ceiling decorations. Bud said it was something people “just decided to do.”

Russ was impressed that the bar refrigerator had an N/A beer he could drink. I made the mistake of ordering a shot of brandy. This was a mistake not because of the taste, but because it came in a glass. Word on the street is that Bud doesn’t wash the glassware. Maybe he thinks the alcohol kills the germs? Come to think of it, I’m not sure that the bar has running water. That could be the real reason! I was blissfully ignorant of the “don’t drink from a glass” unwritten rule at the time and enjoyed my shot.

We wandered around the bar, marveling at the sights, which included a broken jukebox, a foosball table, and a two-inch gap in the roof where the back bar structure joins the front. Russ signed a dollar bill with a sharpie and added it to a post with a thumbtack. A few minutes later, the dysfunction of the place weighed too heavily on me. “We’ve got to get out of here!” I hissed to Russ. He agreed. We said our goodbyes to Bud and left.

As we passed the outhouse on the way to our car, Russ helpfully suggested I use it before our drive back to the campground. You can guess the look I gave him! Once on the road, although we were relieved to be out of the bar, we were also proud that we were brave enough to visit it. This bar was quite the opposite experience of our visit to Ravenstone Abbey pub.

Another acquaintance of mine recently visited the bar. To see his account and more photos, visit the Perfect Duluth Day blog.

So, we visited the Plywood Palace and lived to tell the tale! But wait. Is that a fever I feel coming on…?

The Plovers Have Landed!

September 2, 2026September 2, 2026 / mariezhuikov / 15 Comments

*The piping plover pair that nested on Wisconsin Point this summer. The birds are marked with colored plastic bands to identify and track individuals*. *Photo credit: Mikayla Erickson*

I’m happy to announce that the endangered piping plover shorebirds (Charadrius melodus) have nested for the first time in 49 years in Superior, Wisconsin. This culminates years of habitat restoration work by many groups, including the St. Louis River Alliance, which I worked for in the past. I wrote the first grant to receive funding for this work, but I left the Alliance for my Sea Grant job before I could see the results come to fruition.

I took what I learned through that experience and applied it to my second eco-mystic-romance novel, Plover Landing. The book tells the story of Melora, who is fighting to save the habitat of these birds on the shores of Lake Superior. It was published in 2014.

In Plover Landing, the birds nest on Minnesota Point, but in recent reality, they nested in a bird sanctuary on Wisconsin Point. We’d often had reports of single plovers passing through on migration, but this time, a male and female plover must have been passing through at the same time and decided to make a go of it.

Alas, their nesting efforts were not successful, but natural resource managers hope they might return next spring and try again. Here’s a link to a good Wisconsin Public Radio story about the topic.

I am so excited to see the situation I dreamed of in my novel burst into reality! And I’m happy that these adorable birds are making a comeback.

If you’re interested in my books, please check out my Books page. And if you live in the Twin Ports, be sure to visit my booth at Chester Bowl Fall Fest in Duluth on September 19^th. I’ll be selling and autographing books along with local poet Stanley Kusunoki.

Adventures of a Newbie Road Scholar Trip Leader

August 26, 2026 / mariezhuikov / 29 Comments

*Road Scholars view microscopic zooplankton and algae from Lake Superior on a computer screen aboard a boat.*

Well, my initiation as a Road Scholar trip leader is over! As you may recall, I was hired this summer to lead two trips of people ages 50+ along the shores of Lake Superior. Each trip lasted about five days. We hiked in state parks, canoed down a wild river, heard from local experts, and plied Lake Superior’s waters on a science mission.

During the first trip, an experienced co-leader showed me the ropes. In the second trip, different people supported me each day, but leadership was up to me. Due to the excellent orientation I received during my first trip, I felt fairly confident leading the second one. But I still messed up a few times. The mistakes were minor, and I’d like to think they involved issues that the scholar tourists didn’t notice.

*An ocean-going ship at anchor in Lake Superior.*

The weather was wonderful and so was the clientele. Their ages ranged from mid-fifties to mid-eighties. I was impressed by their curiosity, enthusiasm, intellect, and good attitudes despite physical challenges. Even though the program was rated as moderate to hard, some scholars had recently replaced joints or used a cane to get around. We had some falls (which resulted in only minor scrapes), and some difficulty getting people out of canoes and kayaks at a tricky landing, but I’m happy to say that everyone completed the trip otherwise unscathed.

On the other hand, I was exhausted! By the end, I was glad not to wake up to an alarm every morning and to return to my routine. But I immensely enjoyed showing the scholars this part of the world. Topics included geology, botany, aquatic science, Native culture, and maritime history. I’d like to think they all left with greater appreciation for Lake Superior and the communities that surround it. As I mentioned to them, they probably know more than most locals now. If I’m able, I’d be willing to do it again next year, especially now that I know what I’m doing and would have a year to recover. 😊

Between the two trips, I discovered I had Lyme disease thanks to a deer tick I picked up during my recent stay in Brule, Wisconsin, which added to my exhaustion. But the antibiotics for it soon had me feeling more like myself.

I’m including some of my favorite images from the trips with this post.

*The Superior Ship Canal entry as seen from the back of a boat*

Disclaimer: The views in this article are my own. They do not represent views of the official Road Scholar Program.

Stepping Back in Time at Bark Bay Slough

August 15, 2026 / mariezhuikov / 12 Comments

My friends and I were supposed to go into the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness in mid-July. Unfortunately, wildfires happened there and in Canada. The fire danger was so high and the air quality so poor that the Forest Service closed the entire wilderness! It seems funny that a wilderness can be closed, but there you have it.

We wanted to do something together nevertheless, so we needed to come up with a Plan B. We decided to spend a few days in a friend of a friend’s cabin in Brule, Wisconsin.

Besides enjoying meals of whitefish from Lake Superior, hiking, and chasing waterfalls, we satisfied our need for canoeing with an afternoon trip on Bark Bay Slough, near Herbster. I’d been to the canoe landing there before but never had time to venture out on the water, so I was looking forward to this trip.

The three of us piled into my Old Blue canoe with our camp chairs and books. We headed out onto the smooth water toward the bay mouth, where the slough empties into Lake Superior. Bark Bay Slough is bounded by the mainland on one side and a two-mile sandspit on the other. It’s a Scientific and Natural Area full of floating bog islands, birds, fen and bog plants that’s managed by the state of WI.

*Old Blue where the slough meets Lake Superior.*

As we paddled, I thought about how the Duluth-Superior Harbor back home used to look like this slough before dredging occurred for shipping and the Duluth canal was cut, which allowed the bog islands to just float away into Lake Superior. Canoeing the slough was like stepping back in time.

We passed modest cabins perched on the sandspit and amused ourselves by pointing out which ones we would like to own if we could. None of us chose the beaver house, though, that came into view. Even though it looked well-constructed and had wild roses in the “yard,” that particular house would have been too dark and damp. No windows!

Eventually, we reached the bay mouth, which was surrounded on both sides by sand beaches. We landed our canoe and spent the rest of the afternoon swimming in the cold waters, lying in the sun, wandering, and reading.

Finally, the lure of an ice cream store in Herbster dragged us back into the canoe for our return paddle.

Reflecting on our adventure at Bark Bay Slough, I realize how sometimes the best memories are made when plans change. The peaceful beauty of the slough, the laughter shared with friends, and the chance to experience a landscape lost elsewhere left a lasting impression. Our trip reminded me that detours can create moments we’ll cherish long after the paddle home.

Chasing Waterfalls in Northern Wisconsin

August 13, 2026August 15, 2026 / mariezhuikov / 15 Comments

Listen to me
Don’t go chasing waterfalls
Please stick to the rivers and the lakes that you’re used to
—Waterfalls, lyrics by TLC

My friends and I didn’t obey these song lyrics. Last month, we found new rivers, and best of all, new waterfalls while staying in a cabin near Brule, Wisconsin.

The first was Lost Creek Falls. The trailhead for the falls is near the town of Cornucopia. From there, it’s a fairly easy 1-1/2- mile hike to the falls and a small picnic area. The falls feature an eight-foot plunge with a few feet of cascades above and below it.

You can get close to the falls by walking through Lost Creek, which was shallow when we were there (we were able to rock hop across). A tree has recently fallen in front of the falls, so if you want good photos, you need to get past this visual barrier.

My friends and I enjoyed walking behind the falls, which is not common for waterfalls around Lake Superior. The spray refreshed us, and we were heartened to see how many families were out on the trail, showing this natural wonder to their children.

When we returned to our car, we took time to explore the small Town of Bell Cemetery across the road. It’s home to 23 graves from 1902-1915. They feature simple wooden crosses, and many are for infants.

Next was Siskiwit Falls, which is also near Cornucopia. A short walk from the parking lot brings you to this series of gentle ledges. The falls are known as a good “butt slide” area, but we did not partake in that particular activity.

On another day, we visited Mays Ledges. I guess they aren’t technically a waterfall, more like a series of cascades, but they were part of our trip, so I’m including them!

The ledges are in a nature reserve on the Brule River. The walk to them isn’t very long. It’s downhill with a series of stairs on the way there, which means uphill on the way back. Some of the ledges feature interesting circular holes, which I assume were formed when rocks were trapped in softer stone and whirled around during high water. This time, we took a dip. Beware of poison ivy along the trail.

The Brule River, which is famous for trout fishing and past visits by U.S. presidents, empties into Lake Superior. We meandered over to that site and spent an afternoon soaking up sunshine and Vitamin D on the sand spit.

*My friends at the mouth of the Brule River*

One waterfall we noticed a sign for but didn’t get to was Twin Falls near Port Wing. One of my friends went there later and said it was worth a visit.

On a different trip the next week, I revisited Amnicon Falls. They are in a state park outside of Superior, Wisconsin. I was last in the park during COVID and spring runoff. The falls were tamer this time, but still impressive.

Exploring these waterfalls and ledges reminded me how much beauty is tucked away in Northern Wisconsin. Each site offered its own unique charm, from tranquil cascades to lively sprays and quiet moments of reflection. If you’re ever in that area don’t forget to chase the promise of discovery that lies beyond the familiar.

Oulu!!

August 10, 2026 / mariezhuikov / 10 Comments

Although it may sound like a Finnish battle cry, the title of this post actually refers to a small town in northern Wisconsin (population 560). The town was named by Finnish immigrants after the fifth-largest city in Finland.

I meandered to Oulu late last month during a trip with some friends. The attraction that drew us was the Oulu Glass Gallery Studio. It’s run by Jim and Sue Vojacek, glass artists who are influenced by Lake Superior and the Bois Brule River, which runs nearby.

Their studio looks something like a geodesic mushroom. In winter, visitors can watch the glass-blowing process. In summer, you can tour the teapot garden, planted in memory of Sue’s mother, who collected the teapots. In all seasons, you can purchase unique glass art.

As we entered the studio, we were greeted by one of several calico cats that roam the property. Sue emerged from a back room and chatted with us as we perused the glass art. I ended up choosing a paperweight inspired by a Lake Superior wave and a small blue-and-yellow glass vase complete with a glass flower. Sue said that she and her husband made the vase and flower separately, but they went together so well, they made a match. I loved hearing the stories behind the art!

As we left, we toured the colorful teapot garden and met another one of the cats.

If you’re ever on Highway 2 going across northern Wisconsin, turn off at the Oulu Rock, and you’re in for a treat!

*The locally famous Oulu Rock. Image courtesy of the Oulu Cultural Center.*

Meander Along Lake Superior with Me

June 22, 2026June 30, 2026 / mariezhuikov / 24 Comments

The contract is signed, so it should be safe to let you know about this travel opportunity: I have a gig lined up this August to lead two trips for the Road Scholar Program along Lake Superior. I learned about the job from an email forwarded by a friend who knows about my outdoorsy and traveling nature.

Road Scholar is a nonprofit travel organization designed to inspire older adults to learn, discover and travel. Their learning adventures “engage expert instructors, provide extraordinary access, and stimulate discourse and friendship among people for whom learning is the journey of a lifetime.”

These Lake Superior trips are based in Superior, Wisconsin. Travelers will learn about the history of the Twin Ports (Superior and Duluth) and enjoy field trips to historical sites and presentations by local Indigenous elders and historians. Experience hands-on learning, explore the aquatic creatures of the Brule River State Forest and surrounding natural wonders through canoeing and hiking.

There are a few spots left for the two trips I’m leading in August. If you’re over 50, have $2,000 lying around, and want to spend six days meandering with me, consider signing up! It’s rated as a vigorous trip, so you’d need to be in shape. You can learn more at this link: A Superior Exploration: Lake Superior’s History & Ecology. [UPDATE: The 2026 trips are all sold out now!]

I can’t wait to share my love of Lake Superior with fellow travelers.

Visiting Wisconsin’s Highest Waterfall, Pattison State Park

June 9, 2026 / mariezhuikov / 16 Comments

*Big Manitou Falls, Pattison State Park. Note the tiny people on the overlook platform in the upper left.*

Last weekend, admission to Wisconsin State Parks was free. Russ and I took advantage of this annual event to visit a park that’s only 22 miles from our house. As you, dear astute readers, can tell from the title of this post, Pattison State Park is home to the state’s tallest waterfall. The Black River falls 165 feet down a basalt cliff called Big Manitou Falls. A smaller waterfall, Little Manitou Falls, is also in the park, farther downriver.

*The swimming beach at Pattison State Park.*

Martin Pattison, a lumber baron who had a logging camp on the Black River, donated 660 acres of the 1,400-acre park to the state. If you’ve ever toured Fairlawn Mansion in Superior, Wisconsin, that was his house. In 1917, Pattison learned of plans to build a hydroelectric dam on the river, which would have destroyed the falls. With his wife’s encouragement, he secretly purchased all the land surrounding the falls to block development, and Pattison Park was formed in 1920.

According to the park newspaper, Patterson saved the falls because he felt a connection to them. “In being able to grant this site to the public, I have accomplished one of my chief ambitions. For years, I have spent much time amid the surrounding of the falls and have received so much enjoyment there that it gradually became part of my life,” he said.

On our trip, Russ and I left Duluth, Minnesota, which was shrouded in fog with temps in the 50s, and mist rising off the harbor. We journeyed to inland Wisconsin, with temps in the 70s. We parked in the main lot and took a short hike on a paved trail past the swimming beach on Interfalls Lake, then through a tunnel that runs under the road. Of course, we had to make noises in the tunnel to test the echo. 😊

*The tunnel to the Big Manitou Falls Trail.*

A small bridge took us across the river. From there, it was a short walk to an overlook where we could see the impressive power of the water flowing over the top of the falls. Another short walk (part of which was along the road and past the Big Manitou Falls parking lot) took us to several overlooks of the falls. Wild and rugged, the falls are the antithesis of the farmland and village we passed on our drive to the park.

We thought that we might get a good view of the falls from the riverbed, so we took the Big Manitou Falls Trail a half mile down to the river, but we were mistaken. We “only” saw the river. But if you like rivers, it’s worth it!

Then came the half-mile hike back UP to the top of the falls. The trail is rated moderate to difficult due to the incline, but most of it was wide enough for two people to walk beside each other and was fairly level.

We walked back to the bridge and hiked along the other side of the river to two overlooks. The last overlook is not for the faint of heart! A wooden platform perched on the hillside makes you feel like you’re hanging on the edge of the cliff (because you are). But the view of the falls and the river gorge is spectacular.

The park features several other longer hiking trails, a campground, picnic area, and a backpacking camping area.

During our trip, I marveled that I’d never been to the park, especially since it’s so close to Duluth. After arriving back home, I checked with my older brother, and he assured me that I visited the park several times as a child.

I have no memory of those visits. Perhaps I was too young? In any event, I’m glad I rediscovered this gem of a park. It offers a blend of natural beauty, history, and adventure that makes it worth the visit. Whether you’re drawn by the thunderous falls, the hiking trails, or simply the peaceful setting, there’s something here for everyone to enjoy. I felt grateful for the chance to experience such a remarkable place—and am eager to return for more memories in years to come.

If you’re ever in northwestern Wisconsin, be sure to check out Pattison State Park!

Wandering Wisconsin Point

May 25, 2026May 26, 2026 / mariezhuikov / 14 Comments

*The Superior ship canal and Wisconsin Point lighthouse.*

Russ and I visited a windswept peninsula near Superior, Wisconsin, last weekend. We wanted to check on how the prescribed burn area was rejuvenating after the burn I helped with last fall. As we approached Wisconsin Point, the steady roar of Lake Superior on one side and the more muted lap of Allouez Bay on the other created a backdrop of sound. Once, the Ojibwe lived there, but now the point is mainly a recreational area. It’s known for its towering pine forest and the distant flash of its lighthouse.

*The prescribed burn area on Wisconsin Point.*

In the burn area, the air still held a faint, smoky tang, but plants seemed to be coming back well, even with our chilly spring. Bright green grass sprouted bravely through ashen soil, and I ran my fingers over the bark at the base of some trees, rough and blackened but still sturdy. The large trees seemed little worse for wear—did you know that the rugged bark of red pines is fire-resistant? The trees need fire to regenerate, so they have adapted to it. That’s one reason for the prescribed burn: to encourage red pine regeneration. The point’s white pines, their needles soft and fragrant, are doing fine, but the red pines remain sparse. On our walk, we spotted an eagle’s nest, a massive tangle of sticks perched high above, and heard the sharp calls of the birds echoing through the canopy.

Wisconsin Point also sports a relatively new nonmotorized trail that I haven’t had a chance to hike yet. The Bear Creek Trail begins near Hwy 53 and parallels Moccasin Mike Road to Wisconsin Point. Once on the point, it crosses Wisconsin Point Road, enters a wooded upland, and then a marsh for a total of 2.3 miles. It ends at the first parking lot on the point and sports a gravel surface, wooden bridges, and an impressive floating boardwalk over the marsh. Along the way, a pagoda provides a scenic view of the lake and the bay. Although the weather was a blustery 45 degrees, the forest provided shelter and warmth.

As we crossed the marsh, we noticed a beaver lodge and heard a Sora waterbird call. Soras are also known as Carolina Crakes. They’re brown and white, about the size of a chicken, but with longer legs perfect for wading in the shallows. Although the birds are common throughout the U.S., they are relatively rare in Wisconsin because they require large and healthy wetlands for habitat, and we all know what humans like to do to wetlands. (Drain them!)

*A wetland along the Beaver Creek Trail, complete with beaver lodge.*

Our visit to Wisconsin Point was both invigorating and enlightening. Seeing the resilience of the landscape, from the recovering burn area to the thriving wildlife, was a reminder of nature’s ability to adapt and flourish. The combination of ecological restoration, immersive natural experiences, and unique wildlife sightings makes Wisconsin Point a destination delights the senses and invites return in every season.

Marie's Meanderings

Internet home for Marie Zhuikov: Blogger, Author, Poet, Photographer

Northern Wisconsin