Exit 87

I'm sitting at the picnic table of our campsite at the Sherwood Forest Campground at the Wisconsin Dells. It is a beautiful evening. The sky is clear, it must be about 70 degrees, and there is a light breeze coming and going. A forlorn dog is crying a few campsites away--its people must be out having dinner. (Tom is inside the camper now whipping up a little Chicken Helper for us. Last night we had blueberries and pound cake for dessert, which was very tasty, so I'm looking forward to a reprise tonight.)

We were debating where to get off the freeway to look for a campground. I was driving, and Tom was googling on his phone. From the billboards it appeared that Exit 87 was ground zero for all things Dells. I remembered that when we were driving the other direction, one exit had a sign devoted to camping destinations at that exit with about eight choices on it.

So we got to exit 87, and there were only a couple camping places listed. Tom had identified one on google that sounded pretty good, but we hadn't seen any signs for it. (Tom didn't go so far as to check on exactly where it was.) We'll probably pass it right after we leave tomorrow at exit 86. But I grew up going on driving trips with a dad who was always going to see what was at the *next* exit, so by golly, I was getting off.

Exit 87 may not have been the place to get off for camping, but it was clearly the place to get off for everything else. I didn't know you could achieve the billboard density that we found in the few blocks from the exit to our turnoff two traffic lights later. It was sort of like a birch forest, except instead of trees it was signage. I wish I could remember some of the stuff to report here, but it was too overwhelming to take in.

Tom said he doubted the duck boats would be running on a Monday morning in early May, but I would like to take that trip sometime and find out what all the fuss is about. I've never actually visited the Dells, but they must be quite something to have spawned the tourist omniverse that is here today.

Right at the moment it doesn't matter. We've got trees, a little grass, a picnic table, and a peaceful setting, oblivious to the hype beyond the campground. It is delightful to just be (although I sure hope that dog stops crying before bedtime).