Milwaukee, with a population of about 560,000, is a big enough city to have world-class attractions but small enough to make it easy to get around. It’s currently in the spotlight for a host of reasons.

The big news is the Republican National Convention, which will be held in Milwaukee July 15-18, bringing an estimated 50,000 visitors, including international journalists for the four-day event.

Shortly before the RNC, the city’s annual three-weekend music extravaganza, Summerfest, is likely to draw more than 600,000 to the Lake Michigan shore. And the week after the convention, 80,000 people are expected for Harley-Davidson’s annual Homecoming festival, July 25-28, with big-name entertainers.

And then there’s the television show. Bravo’s reality series “Top Chef” was filmed in Milwaukee and other Wisconsin spots last year and began airing its 14 weekly episodes on March 20. Viewers get a big dose of Wisconsin landscapes, history and culture along with the food porn.

Yes, this city on the shores of Lake Michigan is getting a lot of attention. Here are some of the reasons why, and ideas that might draw you to visit before, during or after these big events.

Beer

Long known as Brew City (that German influence), 27 breweries operate in Milwaukee. That compares with more than 40 breweries tapping kegs back in the 1860s. Of those 40, four are still around: Blatz, Pabst, Miller and Schlitz, once the largest beer producer in the U.S. and known as “the beer that made Milwaukee famous.”

Hanging out at Lakefront Brewery, especially after a stroll along the Milwaukee RiverWalk, is a great way to spend some time. Sample the gold-medal winning RiverWest Stein, an amber lager, alongside some tasty fried cheese curds.

Head to 3rd Street Market Hall to check out City Fountain, a self-serve indoor beer garden where you can sample as much or as little as you like of some of Wisconsin’s best beer. You’re charged by the ounce.

There are all kinds of beer tours available in Milwaukee and its surrounding areas. Find the one that’s right for you at visitmilwaukee.org.

And if visiting breweries and taverns isn’t enough to get your beer fix, consider this: the Brewhouse Inn and Suites is a 90-room boutique hotel constructed on the site of the historic Pabst brewery. The rooms are arranged around a central courtyard housing huge copper brewing kettles.

History

Milwaukee’s history is alive and on full display in so many ways. When European immigrants began arriving in the United States in large numbers after 1850, Milwaukee was the destination for Germans. Today, the city’s brewing industry, its tradition of ethnic festivals and a few Gilded Age mansions are part of that German tradition that visitors can explore.

It was in the 1890s that teenager William Harley met Arthur Davidson in a Milwaukee neighborhood. Shortly after the turn of the century, they produced the first Harley-Davidson motorcycles. Today, that history is examined at one of the city’s biggest tourist destinations, the Harley-Davidson Museum. It’s a 20-acre complex with retail stores, restaurants and two floors of memorabilia.

A more traditional history tour is at the Pabst Mansion, where programs help tell the history of brewing, art and architecture of the time with the impressive Gilded Age mansion from which Frederick Pabst ran the brewery.

Food

For so long, Milwaukee has been famous for brats, cheese and frozen custard. That’s still true, and make sure to sample some of those stomach pleasers. (Leon’s is my favorite for custard.) But there’s much more to the Milwaukee food scene, which is getting lots of attention thanks in part to “Top Chef.”

Do your own research to find what tempts you most, but here are a few restaurants I recommend for can’t-miss dining experiences.

DanDan, described as American-Chinese cuisine, is helmed by “Top Chef” contestant Dan Jacobs. His Happy Chicken is a dish to remember, spicy, crispy and flavorful. I would go back just for that.

At Birch, the farm-to-table menu from chef Kyle Knall drew the attention of the New York Times, ranking it one of the Top 50 restaurants in the U.S. in 2023. The ember-roasted walleye, wood-roasted pork chop and ricotta-filled pasta are standouts.

The Diplomat, a cozy neighborhood spot where chef Dane Baldwin claimed a James Beard Award in 2022, offers approachable, shareable plates. Outstanding ingredients and interesting combinations elevate simple dishes. The Knife & Fork Chicken and the Diplomac prime beef burger are popular choices.

Art

Milwaukee is not shy in the outdoor mural category, but what might make it different from other cities is that many pieces focus on beer and sports.

For architecture fans, a visit to Frank Lloyd Wright’s Burnham Block is a must. It’s the renowned architect’s collection of affordable housing units and is open to the public on most Saturdays. Tours often sell out, so plan in advance.

But the indisputable star in this category is the Milwaukee Art Museum, known as much for its collections and exhibits as for its architecture. Designed by famed Spanish architect Santiago Calatrava, the main building perches next to Lake Michigan like a bird, or a boat, or a sail, and has become a city landmark.

Four floors with more than 40 galleries display a broad collection with pieces ranging from ancient decorative arts to Renaissance paintings and documentary photography. There’s also a large collection of works from German artists.

Outdoor recreation

Though Milwaukee has the amenities of a big city, outdoor recreation is also plentiful.

During summer, Bradford Beach is a popular destination. It’s a wide, sandy expanse along Lake Michigan where volleyball leagues share the sand with sunbathers. It’s just a short drive from downtown.

There’s 135 miles of paved trails looping around Milwaukee County. Check out the 2-mile Seven Bridges Trail in nearby South Milwaukee. It crosses bridges and stairways built by the Works Progress Administration almost 100 years ago through ravines along Lannon stone paths.

Veterans Park, also along the lakefront, is a destination for kite flyers, kayakers and standup paddle boarders. There’s a kite store on site and a company that rents kayaks and standup paddle boards. Those water activities are also available on the city’s rivers.

Sports and festivals

Milwaukee is a huge sports town and in summer a trip to American Family Field to watch the Brewers play baseball is a must. New this year at the field is an annex of the 3rd Street Market Hall. So along with your brats and beer, you can nosh on empanadas and crab Rangoon while watching the game and the sausage mascot races at the bottom of the sixth inning.

Milwaukee is known as the city of festivals with nearly 100 on the calendar for events in and around the city. Many celebrate the cultures of the immigrants who shaped the city. Others celebrate food and art. There’s even the Weird Fest, which seems to be mostly about beer, so that’s not really too weird for Milwaukee.

Terri Colby is a freelancer.

Milk is the official state beverage (sorry, beer drinkers). It’s where each year, there’s a new Alice in Dairyland. And it’s where football fans proudly cheer their team while donning rubber wedges of orange cheese on their heads.

But when you travel to Wisconsin and hit the back roads in search of Dairyland, what do you find?

Curving and sometimes hilly roads through green pastures help you understand the true meaning of bucolic. Mooing cows stand ready for their close-ups. Roadside cheese shops (such as the century-old Henning’s, 20201 Point Creek Road, Kiel; 920-894-3032; henningscheese.com) hawk curds so fresh they squeak. There are farms that offer tours and pizza nights, and a museum (the Farm Wisconsin Discovery Center, 7001 Gass Lake Road, Manitowoc; 920-726-6000; farmwisconsin.org) where you might get to see a calf being born. And there are places to eat that turn all the local bounty into remarkable meals.

In the tiny hamlet of Paoli, population 153, you’ll find Seven Acre Dairy Company (6858 Paoli Road, Belleville; 608-416-4023; sevenacredairyco.com), a $1.1 million redevelopment of an 1888 cheese factory. The property includes a high-end boutique hotel, an elegant farm-to-table restaurant with a menu featuring local cows and curds, a cafe and a micro dairy. There’s also an event space and casual outdoor seating along the picturesque Sugar River, once used to keep milk cold but now a place for swimming, kayaking and fishing.

Entrepreneur Nic Mink, who says he and his wife are part of the post-pandemic Great Resignation, opened the development earlier this year. A big part of his motivation was preserving history, which is fitting: He’s a graduate of University of Wisconsin at Madison, with degrees in history and environmental science.

In the mid-1900s, Wisconsin had 60,000 dairy farms and thousands of small dairy factories, meaning everyone was connected in one way or another to dairy, Mink said. Now, with mechanization and other efficiencies, there are just about 6,000 farms and 120 factories. Those farms are still mostly family-run, but the smaller numbers mean fewer people maintain that dairy connection.

“We realized that this building was very symbolic of the golden age of Wisconsin dairy, when this factory here in the middle of the 1950s was … one of the most modern dairy processors and supported the livelihoods of hundreds of farmers,” Mink said.

Mink met my friend and me when we arrived in town for a stay in early June. He’s gregarious and talkative, happy to explain the tiniest detail, and it seems he’s involved in most all of those details. But he’s most passionate when talking about Paoli’s dairy history and highlighted it in one way or another throughout the building, explaining why he began this project.

“The ‘why’ is to celebrate this story of Wisconsin dairy in this particular moment, when everybody was connected to it,” he said, pointing out that where we sat to chat was precisely where farmers involved in the Paoli dairy cooperative were making cheese in 1888. “And here we are in 2023 making ice cream and butter. That’s cool. To me, that’s special.”

Seven Acre’s eight-room hotel is elegant and modern, but traces of the original factory remain, including the concrete floor where you can see indentations from the large cheese molds. At The Kitchen, chef Kyle Kiepert puts on a spread inspired by old-school church cookbooks but forged with the abundance and quality of local dairy, produce and meats. A simple relish tray with parsnips, turnips, pickled asparagus and radishes garnished with fresh herb dressing was a sight to behold, and to eat.

In such a small town, you might think there wouldn’t be enough to do. But you’d be wrong. My friend and I stayed at Seven Acre for two nights and wished we’d had more time.

On our second night, we dined across the street at Paoli Schoolhouse American Bistro (6857 Paoli Road, Belleville; 608-848-6261; schoolhousebistro.com), our second spectacular dinner in town. We ate early, thrilled at the quality of the beef Wellington and a spectacular charcuterie board, so we could finish up in time to head to a musical performance down the street.

An outdoor stage and lawn furniture are set up under trees along Sugar River, surrounded by a taproom and a few cocktail bars serving to-go drinks. As we were leaving the restaurant, I balked at the waiter’s suggestion to get a cocktail in a plastic bag, like a kid’s juice drink.

Out the door, we found ourselves smiling as about two dozen bicyclists cruised across the town bridge, singing along to the outdoor band playing “The Gambler”: “You’ve got to know when to hold ’em, know when to fold ’em …”

We made a beeline for the music. And it turned out The Lazy Squirrel’s breakfast gin and tonic, with its citrus flavoring, was too tempting for me to pass up — even in a plastic bag with a straw.

Remarkable local food combined with singing bicyclists, outdoor music and cocktails made for a summer evening to remember. And it was as easy as just walking across the street, which of course, is part of the charm.

“Easy” kind of sums up a road trip in and around Wisconsin’s dairy farms. There’s so much to offer all different types of travelers. Families with kids would love the farm stops. Foodies would find notable meals in tiny towns such as Viroqua and the bigger metropolises of Madison and Milwaukee. There are many ways to arrange a road trip. Here are some stops I made earlier this year that are worth the trip:

Wegmueller Dairy Farm (W4358 Montgomery Road, Monroe; wegmuellerfarm.com) is where fourth-generation farmer Dan Wegmueller and family offer farm tours, farm stays in a spacious and well-stocked authentic farmhouse and activities with horses. I only had two hours to explore this working dairy farm on my June visit. That was enough to milk cows, feed calves and giggle at some baby pigs. It wasn’t enough time for a horse ride on top of all that. Don’t make the same mistake as me.

From Paoli, head west (about two hours) to Viroqua for small-town foodie experiences and a 1960s vibe. Vernon County is famous for its concentration of organic farms and the Driftless Cafe (118 W. Court St., Viroqua; 608-637-7778; driftlesscafe.com) is famous for using all that natural, local goodness. Its macaroni and cheese is to die for.

On Friday nights in summer, head to the Sittin’ Pretty Pizza Farm (S5990 Chamberlain Ridge Lane, Viroqua; sittinprettyfarm.org), where Steve Lawless operates a nonprofit that creates community along with wood-fired pies made with local ingredients.

In the state capital of Madison, there are at least three stops you can’t miss:

The Saturday morning Dane County Farmer’s Market (13 W. Mifflin St., Madison; 608-455-1999; dcfm.org), where artisanal cheesemakers have their award-winning offerings for sale.

The European-style cheese shop Fromagination (12 S. Carroll St., Madison; 608-255-2430; fromagination.com) just across from the Statehouse, where owner Ken Monteleone can tell you about his passion project and the most expensive cheese he’s ever sold: a Wisconsin aged cheddar.

The UW-Madison’s Memorial Union terrace (800 Langdon St., Madison; 608-265-3000; union.wisc.edu) overlooking Lake Mendota. Casual food and drink is available for purchase, including ice cream from the university’s very own Babcock Dairy.

If your travel timing is right, put this on your calendar: Tickets are on sale now for the Dairy Farmers of Wisconsin’s first-ever Art of Cheese festival, set for Sept. 29-Oct. 1, in and around Madison. (artofcheesefestival.com)

Terri Colby is a freelance writer.

That didn’t happen.

Instead, I awoke at daybreak to a saturated sky alight with color. Stepping outside my rental cabin a few feet from the lake, I was immersed in the colors: blazing orange, searing yellow and a brilliant white line at the horizon. The water glistened as the sun began to emerge, calm waters quietly tapping the shore where aspen and birch leaves rippled in the crisp September morning. It nearly took my breath away.

This panoramic sunrise was like none I had ever seen, and it moved me in ways that are hard to explain. I had come to Michigan’s wild and wondrous Upper Peninsula hoping to find transformative experiences that would soothe a pandemic-weary soul. I wanted to mark these strange times with something stunning, instead of only crisis and tragedy. So I headed north and let the stars guide my way.

The skies were clear and it was a little before midnight when my friends and I drove to Whitefish Point to look for the Milky Way. We climbed the wooden deck on the Lake Superior shore, near where the SS Edmund Fitzgerald sank in 1975.

In front of us, above the black water, the stars shone like diamonds spilled on a velvet cloth. Behind us, rising high above the Whitefish Point Light, we saw the Milky Way, looking like chalk smearing the dark sky.

We had come to the Paradise area in the peninsula’s eastern region to try some night sky photography, and we did. But the moments without the camera were the best, taking in billions of stars painting the sky above, wind and waves enveloping us in sound as people looking for rocks walked the shoreline, somehow, impossibly oblivious to the grand show overhead.

The entire state of Michigan is filled with natural wonders, but the Upper Peninsula (uptravel.com) might be a shock to folks who think the Midwest is all flat land and farm fields.

This is a Midwest with mountains and waterfalls and virgin hardwood forests. There’s about 1,700 miles of sometimes rugged shoreline along three Great Lakes, bodies of water so big they are known as inland seas. It’s a Midwest with bears and moose and eagles. It’s a Midwest with skies dark enough to regularly see the Milky Way — and sometimes even the northern lights.

We began our trip in early September, on the west side of the Upper Peninsula. We focused on the Keweenaw Peninsula, Munising and Paradise (who, after all, could pass up a chance at paradise?).

I wanted to see the migrating Monarch butterflies that congregate here for a few days near Escanaba before beginning their seemingly impossible 2,000-mile winter journey to Mexico. I missed them by a few days, but seeing a handful of them at the Stonington Peninsula let me share in their journey.

There are more than 300 waterfalls scattered across the 15 counties that make up the Upper Peninsula. The biggest waterfall is in one of the finest state parks I’ve ever seen: Tahquamenon Falls State Park, in Paradise. North of Mackinaw City, the park is 46,179 acres of mostly undeveloped woodland. The Upper Falls is more than 200 feet across with a 48-foot drop.

You could spend weeks in the U.P. just visiting waterfalls. The moisture in the air, combined with the sound and movement of the water, make for an energizing experience. When the waterfall is at the end of a calming hike through the quiet forest, it’s like finding a treasure.

Just under five hours west of Paradise, we saw two falls in Keweenaw: Jacob’s Falls, just a few feet off the road, and Douglass Houghton Falls outside Calumet. While the latter is not yet open to the public and is difficult to get to, it is Michigan’s tallest waterfall at 110 feet high. Near Munising, located between Keweenaw and Paradise, we saw falls from the boat ride at Pictured Rocks and also Munising Falls and Wagner Falls, both easy to get to and worth a visit.

We started our trip on the Keweenaw Peninsula, the furthest north spot in the Upper Peninsula. We made our base at the Keweenaw Mountain Lodge (keweenawmountainlodge.com) in Copper Harbor. It’s a place of rustic elegance with a snazzy bar and fine food, in a spot that’s great for exploring the whole peninsula.

The main lodge is a design icon that seamlessly incorporates modern elements into the historic building. The main dining room is here, as is the breakfast restaurant, multiple indoor and outdoor seating spots and a stunning bar. The individual cabins are rustic but comfortable, with their own fireplaces and retro touches. The one-, two- and three-bedroom cabins have mini-fridges and microwaves, but no kitchens or televisions. Wi-Fi can be spotty, which is true of much of the peninsula wilderness.

A historic resort built in 1934 as part of the New Deal’s Works Progress Administration, the lodge is applying for International Dark-Sky Association designation — a measure to prevent light pollution through a nonprofit organization — and offers regular night-sky viewing and photography sessions.

The open skies over the lodge’s golf course gave me my first good view of the Milky Way in the U.P. Standing in the dark, gazing at the spots of brilliance that have traveled so many lightyears through time and space to paint the sky is magical. And humbling.

There are so many must-dos on any Upper Peninsula trip, but you really can’t leave without a boat ride around the Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore (nps.gov/piro) in Munising.

Pictured Rocks’ sandstone cliffs are a natural wonder more than 15 miles long, a geologic history sculpted by wind and water into amazing rock formations that are best seen from the water. There’s so much to do here — hiking, swimming, kayaking, more waterfalls — that I wished we had a week just for this part of the U.P.

That seemed to be a constant refrain: We need more time here.

Our last two-night leg of the trip was at that Paradise rental cabin. From the dark of night to the brilliance of daybreak, Paradise lived up to its name. It’s where I saw that magnetic sunrise, the Milky Way hovering above the Great Lakes, and where the night sky over Tahquamenon Falls was mesmerizing.

I missed out on a few things I had wanted to see. But that randomness of Mother Nature’s bounty is what gave me the sunrise that delivered me from all the woes of the world. That’s what I had come to find. I was joyous, exuberant and calm all at the same time, moved by the magnificent natural wonder enveloping me.

I had been searching for this, but it had found me.

Terri Colby is a freelance writer.

After all, he had spent most of the ride outlining all the possible dangers to be found on this lower part of the wild New River, the centerpiece of the United States’ newest national park.

What I recall most clearly were “Don’t panic!” and “Don’t stand up!” Both were instructions for what to do if a torrent of water tossed you out of the raft and into the boulder-studded river.

But, with an uneasy stomach, I decided there was no turning back. I had always thrilled to videos of white-water rafting I had seen over the years. Now in my mid-60s, I knew if I didn’t go for it here, this would end up being an adventure that passed me by for good. And besides, I’d already put on the wet suit, splash jacket and life vest.

In addition to our guide, the inimitable Ray Ray, our raft carried five folks ranging in age from early 50s to mid-70s. Three, including the eldest, were expert rafters with experience on rivers around the world. All were more fit and I was the only newbie.

For the next few hours, we surfed more than a dozen rapids as we traveled through eight miles of river. The forested walls of the sandstone gorge seemed to hold the quiet between rapids. But when we dipped into the kinetic white water, our whoops and hollers were just part of the barely controlled chaos.

First, shrieks of excitement as the front of the raft rose up on the splashing and swirling waves. Then, screams when a wall of water hit the front paddlers, and laughter when we were once again in calm water. All the while, paddles were moving feverishly through the water, Ray Ray shouting instructions from the rear.

It was the most fun I’ve had in a long while, even though I had a hard time keeping myself in proper paddling position. It was a bit of a rough ride for me, but I’m so glad I didn’t back out. There’s nothing like it.

The New River Gorge National Park and Preserve is the country’s 63rd and newest national park. It covers more than 70,000 acres and includes 53 miles of the New River, its waters flowing north through the deep sandstone canyons in the Appalachian Mountains of southern West Virginia. One of the oldest rivers in the world, the New River has a calmer upper segment, while the lower area has rapids ranging from Class III-V.

People are drawn to the area for its fishing, rock climbing and white-water rafting, of course. (There’s also white-water rafting on the nearby Gauley River, a more vigorous course with several Class V+ rapids.)

The area has long been a popular outdoor recreation spot, but it’s been kind of under the radar to those who live elsewhere. All that is changing with the 2021 designation as a national park.

“The rangers have always known that New River Gorge was a special and unique place,” said National Park Service District Supervisor David Bieri. “We are happy for the opportunity to share that with more people now that it has been recognized as a national park and preserve.”

And that’s a good thing for travelers, as there is just so much natural beauty in this area of southern West Virginia, and so many activities to satisfy different appetites.

There’s extreme and mild adventure along with the white-water rafting, with options to satisfy thrill seekers as well as children on their first float trips. Hiking trails abound, some suitable for mega-milers and others ideal for the saunterers who want to take photos at the overlooks framing the beautiful scenery. In spring, thickets of Catawba rhododendrons bloom in purple and pink glory. There’s even a boardwalk past the Sandstone waterfall and into the woods, where wheelchair users can taste this natural wonderland.

There’s fishing and boating, zip lining and mountain biking. There are historical sites tied to the area’s coal and railroad history that fueled the industrialization of the United States. You can tour a coal mine, visit a railroad ghost town, or even survey a Civil War battlefield.

One of the most unusual activities is a walk across the New River Gorge Bridge. But you’re not on a walkway next to the car lanes. You’re on a 2-foot-wide catwalk just underneath the four-lane highway, 876 feet above the river. The 3,030-foot structure is the longest single-span bridge in the Western Hemisphere. Walkers are strapped in, so safety is pretty much assured, but still, this trek isn’t for the faint of heart.

Shoppers in your group won’t be disappointed either. The historic town of Lewisburg, with its fine dining spots, boutique stores and its very own Carnegie Hall, is a worthy day trip away. Also nearby, in Beckley, is the fabulous Tamarack Marketplace, with artwork and fine crafts from local artisans. It’s well worth a visit.

My home base for this trip was the 250-acre Adventures on the Gorge resort that sits on the rim of the New River gorge, adjacent to the park. It’s an impressive place, with a long list of adventures, wild and not, for guests to try out during their time there.

The resort has a wide range of lodging options, making this the perfect place for multigenerational gatherings and for those desiring different comfort levels and prices. The less expensive options are the campsites (starting at $39 per night), RV spots ($59) and rustic cabins ($45) with multiple beds and a shared campground bathroom. There are glamping tents ($159), sportsmans cabins (with seven beds, a bathroom and basic kitchen equipment, $114) and luxurious one- to four-bedroom homes ($499) with all the amenities.

I spent three nights in an upscale two-bedroom, two-bathroom outback cabin with living room, full kitchen and a deck with a hot tub and private wooded view. It cost $399 per night on weekdays; $429 on the weekends.

The outback cabins are located near each other, but situated for privacy. Soaking in the hot tub at night, surrounded by the woods and dark skies, it was hard to believe there were cabins on either side, each with their own similar setup.

The resort also has a pool overlooking the gorge, and several restaurants. One of my favorite places to kick back at Adventures on the Gorge was an overlook behind Chetty’s Pub, a casual on-site restaurant with very good food. A row of Adirondack chairs faces the gorge and when sunset comes, the sky show is extra special.

The day after my raft trip, I came across a brochure that reminded me how much I wished I had started white-water rafting decades early. I’m so happy to have no regrets, but next time, I think I’ll try the resort’s jet boat ride on the New River ($28 for a senior like me).

Terri Colby is a Chicago-based freelance writer.

I was in a campground in the Midwest, in a tourist hot spot in southwest Michigan. But this was no ordinary tent and no ordinary campground.

Welcome to The Fields, a new luxury camping experience on a 30-acre blueberry farm in South Haven, Mich.

The Fields is a close-to-home example of “glamping,” a mashup of the words glamour and camping. The glamping trend has been around in its modern iteration for more than a decade. Last year, Merriam-Webster added the word to its dictionary, defining glamping as “outdoor camping with amenities and comforts … not usually used when camping.” In previous eras, royalty would set up lavish campsites for celebrations, and, of course, many of the African safaris popular in the 1920s were hardly roughing it. These days, glamping spots are often easy to find at high-end outdoor destinations in places like Montana, Colorado and California.

“The western embrace of glamping has been a natural fit with the rugged wild landscape of the West and desired creature comforts,” says Sarah Dusek, co-founder of the American Glamping Association and CEO of Under Canvas, which offers glamping camps near several national parks, including the Grand Canyon and Yellowstone.

Irene Wood, The Fields’ owner, says her resort is the first luxury glamping spot in the Midwest. It definitely fits the bill for an outdoorsy experience that does away with sleeping on the ground or trekking through dark woods in the middle of the night to answer nature’s call.

The Fields has 10 canvas tents set up on wooden platforms, each with a king-size bed with fine linens. A partial wall behind the bed divides the front of the tent from the bathroom area, where privacy screens separate the space equipped with a toilet, shower and bathroom sink. Tents also have room for a desk, small table and chairs.

Each tent has a wood-burning stove that was started for us each night of our weekend stay. We didn’t need the heat for the whole night, but it eased the chill before we got into bed.

Breakfast is included, with chef Sean Hale serving up locally sourced, seasonal options. The first day he prepared delicious quiches, yogurt and granola along with an elaborate fruit selection. Sunday morning breakfast was a hearty bacon and eggs with blueberry pancakes. The food was great, but even more memorable was being surrounded by nature, sipping a cup of coffee in the early morning and smelling the bacon sizzling on the grill.

Wood grew up on her family’s farm just down the road from The Fields. She moved to the Chicago suburbs when she got married and now splits her time between Hinsdale and South Haven.

She bought the family farm from her father a few years back and runs a banquet business onsite, where she’s also trying to develop a vineyard. While working on that property, which she calls The Farm, Wood said she noticed how much people seemed to appreciate the authenticity of the place. That insight, combined with travels that took her to other glamping sites around the world, led to the idea of opening The Fields.

“We always say that traveling gives you the privilege of perspective,” Wood said. “And I think that that privilege has allowed me to take a lot of things that I’ve seen that are beautiful in the world and apply them to the place I find most beautiful, which is my hometown.”

Now, Wood says, she’s working with friends, neighbors and family, and that’s “a privilege and an honor.” It may well be, but Wood isn’t sitting back watching the trees sway. She’s up early, making sure the coffee is brewing in the central meeting space called The Willow, after an old deer blind on the property. Her children are clearing breakfast dishes, cleaning the tents and building the fire for s’mores.

The Fields is open from Memorial Day through Oct. 27. Overnight rates may seem high by South Haven standards, starting at $329 a night. But Wood maintains that it’s an affordable way for Midwesterners to go glamping. There’s no need to get on a flight, rent a car and drive a couple of hours into the wilderness to get a similar experience.

As with all glamping resorts, the outdoor location is paramount, followed by the availability of activities in and around the space. The Fields is outside of town, down a country road with a turnoff that takes you into the blueberry fields. The tents are farther back on the property, along the Black River among pine, maple and poplar trees.

The South Haven area has no shortage of activities, especially in the warmer months. We happily filled a Saturday in June with a visit to the downtown South Haven farm market, where music and samples of cheese and blueberry juice fueled our walking tour; a short trip out of town to a wine festival at Fenn Valley Vineyards and a Lake Michigan sunset boat ride on the Elsie J.

The Fields can help guests arrange activities that require reservations, such as wine tasting, cheese making, sailing, fishing and horseback riding. There are also lots of things to do nearby that don’t entail much advance planning.

Beaches are South Haven’s biggest draw. The two biggest and most popular are North Beachand South Beach on either side of the Black River where it meets Lake Michigan. Each has playground equipment for kids, concession stands and restrooms. South Beach is closest to the historic lighthouse and the harbor walk. But it’s not hard to find less crowded beaches, if that’s your thing.

The Fields is half a mile from the Kal-Haven Trail, a 33-mile bike path that runs between Kalamazoo and South Haven. Guests who want to rent bicycles can get them delivered to their tent.

If the timing is right, blueberry picking is a favorite South Haven activity, and you can pick right at The Fields. (The National Blueberry Festival takes place annually in South Haven the second weekend in August.)

Downtown South Haven lures visitors with ice cream shops, bakeries, book stores, boutiques, a retro department store and many bars and restaurants. There’s also a small downtown movie theater.

And when you head back to The Fields and are ready to call it a night, leave the flaps on the tent open so you can hear the bull frog singing good night.

Terri Colby is a freelance writer.

But wait a minute. Can’t we see the night sky simply by stepping outside after dark and looking up?

Well, yes. But for most of us, that means seeing the glow from artificial lights reflecting off clouds, water vapor and dust particles in the air. It’s called sky glow; the night sky is so bright, it’s hard to see the stars.

For most of the time people have lived on this planet, the night sky was inky dark and filled with visible celestial objects. It’s inspired poets and dreamers, artists and scientists, linking humankind with its past and perhaps its future, as people looked to the sky to ponder life’s mysteries.

It’s only been in the last 100 years or so that light and air pollution have diminished those views. And it’s only been in recent years that people have started traveling in search of what has been lost, whether it’s seeking out spots close to home in the Midwest or venturing farther afield in the Southern Hemisphere.

“We’re seeing dark-sky tourism as a reaction against our increasingly busy, tech-filled lives,” said Daniel Levine, a travel trends expert and director of the Avant-Guide Institute, a global trends consultancy. “It’s a chance to decompress, be somewhere quiet and be awed by the biggest question in life: Why are we here?”

Hoping for a dark-sky experience, myself, earlier this year, I headed to a mountain plateau west of the Andes in Chile’s Atacama Desert, one of the driest places on Earth and a mecca for astronomers and stargazers.

I settled in at the small town of San Pedro de Atacama with plans to do some stargazing and to visit the Atacama Large Millimeter/submillimeter Array. Better known as ALMA, it’s billed as the “most complex astronomical observatory ever built on Earth” by the U.S.-based National Radio Astronomy Observatory. In cooperation with the Chilean government, an international partnership from North America, Europe and East Asia built and operates the facility. Scientists from around the world share time on the telescopes for research.

The town is a tourist center with muted lighting and dirt streets lined with restaurants, souvenir shops and tour operators offering desert adventures. It seemed there was a stargazing operator on every block. I worked with Astronomic Tour Licanantay Observatory, a company that mixes astronomy with culture to explore the night sky and how it was interpreted by the ancient Atacameno people. (Another good option is San Pedro de Atacama Celestial Explorations, or SPACE. Except for the days around the full moon, both companies offer nightly tours leaving from San Pedro.)

A late-night, half-hour bus ride took me out of town into the desert. After climbing out of the bus, I stopped in my tracks. It was so dark I couldn’t see the ground. But no one needed to point out the Milky Way: There it was up above, a vast streak composed of billions upon billions of stars packed so close together, it seemed as though one blended into another.

These “envoys of beauty” (Ralph Waldo Emerson) and “jewels of the night” (Henry David Thoreau) that made Vincent van Gogh paint masterpieces were on display for me in a place where the ancient Atacamenos were long-ago astronomers.

About a dozen people on our tour spent the next hour sitting on wooden benches lining a raised platform while a guide pointed out the stars, constellations and planets. He talked about the people who lived here long ago, when there were so many stars twinkling in the skies that people named the dark spaces in between them, similar to the way we name constellations. We had a telescope at our disposal for magnified viewing, but I preferred just looking up and listening to him talk. Before it was over, each of us posed for a photo with the Milky Way as a backdrop, providing a nice souvenir.

The next morning, I got a tour that was decidedly more scientific at ALMA’s Operations Support Facility, an engineering marvel open to the public Saturday and Sunday mornings. Admission is free, but it’s best to make a reservation well in advance at almaobservatory.org/en. Click on “Outreach” and “Visits.”

Perched 6,000 feet above the operations facility, the radio telescopes aren’t within view of the public, but people can see the data pouring into computers monitored by scientists. The facility has an extensive education program that can keep visitors entertained for hours.

Because most of us don’t have access to clear skies like those in the Atacama, destinations offering dark-sky experiences have become tourist attractions. It’s part of a larger trend of so-called astro tourism, according to Levine, the travel trends expert.

“We are living in a new age of space awareness,” he said. “People are looking to the skies as never before.”

Witness the crowds who traveled to see the solar eclipse in 2017, and others taking trips to experience the Northern Lights.

Even before astro tourism took off, the International Dark-Sky Association had raised the alarm that the visible night sky is a vanishing natural wonder.

Formed 30 years ago, the association has designated more than 100 locales around the world as dark-sky places, ranging from light pollution-minded suburbs like Homer Glen and the small Indiana town of Beverly Shores, where shields on street lighting keep the illumination focused downward, to dark sky parks in the Southwest U.S. and much larger reserves or sanctuaries in places such as Namibia and New Zealand. Utah has the world’s highest concentration of IDSA-certified parks, some of which offer regular stargazing events.

In northern Michigan, the Headlands International Dark Sky Park in Mackinaw City gained IDSA certification in 2011. The park includes more than 500 acres of woodlands along 2 miles of Lake Michigan shoreline, as well as an events center and a guest house that can sleep 22 people. With miles of hiking trails and kid-friendly outdoor sky exhibits, it’s a great place to visit during the day. But at night, it’s for relaxing and pondering the cosmos.

The first night I was at Headlands, clouds obscured the scene, and the bugs at sunset were intense.

On our second night, the sky came alive, slowly. The first stars to show up were actually planets, Venus and Jupiter, before sunset. A midsummer night with no moon was perfect for stargazing, but the full sunset was a long time coming.

While daylight lingered, a park astronomer guided visitors to a telescope set up on a patio along the lakeshore. As the skies darkened, most folks preferred to just look up and watch as more and more stars surfaced and the pink-tinted, blue-gray sky slowly turned black.

The star show at Headlands wasn’t a match for the ideally dry skies of Chile, but for most city residents, it’s an extravaganza well worth the trip.

Not many of the official dark-sky places are close to large metropolitan areas, for obvious reasons. That’s what makes the Beverly Shores community designation special; it’s within reach of millions of people.

On the banks of Lake Michigan, across the water from Chicago, Beverly Shores is surrounded by the Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore. Just outside of town, in the parking lot for Kemil Beach, amateur astronomers share their telescopes at monthly stargazing events.

“When I was a kid, you could drive out of the city and into the darkness, but these little islands of darkness are disappearing,” said Larry Silvestri, who helps run the stargazing at Kemil Beach. “But here, 10 million people in this region can come and see the Milky Way.”

Terri Colby is a freelance writer.

That poignant recollection is just part of the story of former U.S. Army 1st Lt. Joshua Mantz of San Jose, Calif., a Purple Heart recipient. It’s one of many personal stories that visitors will experience at the new National Veterans Memorial and Museum in Columbus, Ohio, opening Oct. 27.

They’ll also find out about Deborah Sampson, a teenage girl who disguised herself as a boy to fight in the Revolutionary War. When injured, she dug the musket ball out of her flesh rather than let a doctor discover her secret. And they’ll learn about Army Sgt. Wendell Wiley Wolfenbarger, whose lucky rabbit’s foot and wishbone couldn’t protect him from being killed in action during World War II, and Army Sgt. Don Jakeway, who survived even after confronting nearby German snipers.

War and peace.

Life and death.

Honor and survival.

History and homecoming.

These fundamental themes of human experience are on display, mostly in the form of first-person accounts, at the nation’s first museum dedicated to veterans from all conflicts and all branches of the U.S. military.

“We have museums across the country that focus on branches and conflicts, but our museum houses universal stories of patriotism and service from all branches and all conflicts under one roof,” said retired Army Lt. Gen. Michael Ferriter, the institution’s president and CEO. “The emotional core of the experience lies within the individual stories of each and every one of the people featured throughout the exhibition program.”

The stories represent the more than 40 million veterans — about half of them still alive — from throughout U.S. history, from all five branches of the military, in all conflicts, including those that happened before the 13 colonies became the United States of America.

It’s not just a memorial and museum about the military, it’s about the United States and its place in the world.

More than $82 million was raised through public and private philanthropy for this 53,000-square-foot museum and 2.5-acre memorial grove that sits on 7 acres in downtown Columbus. It uses interactive exhibits and displays with large photographs and numerous video clips to tell these stories.

One of the interactive exhibits is a visually compelling touch screen featuring an image of a parachute. You can select years between 1950 and 2018 and learn the history of the modern military with a few words, some numbers and highlighted maps. Visitors who select 1950, for example, will find out that there were 1.46 million people serving in the military that year, primarily in Japan, Germany and the Panama Canal zone. Tap 1953 next, and you’ll see that the number of troops had increased to 3.5 million people, and Korea was at the top of the list of deployments.

For 2018, that number is 1.3 million people — less than 1 percent of the U.S. population — with the largest numbers serving in Japan, Germany and South Korea.

As you walk through the museum, heading upward through the curved concrete interior, you pass different thematic spaces that feature different parts of the narrative. Among them are “Why We Serve,” “In Combat,” “Transformation” and “Service and Citizenship,” each with its own short film.

The museum, designed by Allied Works Architecture, was named one of the 12 most-anticipated buildings of 2018 by Architectural Digest, which described the building as understated and dignified. Inside, visitors walk through a light-filled spiral processional ending at the top of the building and its rooftop sanctuary, designed for ceremonies and reflection. Outside, across from the building entrance, OLIN landscape architects designed the memorial grove with American elm trees, a curving pathway and a stone wall with three waterfalls filling a reflecting pool.

Ohio native Sen. John Glenn, the Marine pilot and astronaut who died in 2016, was instrumental in planning the ambitious venture. He led the committee that determined the museum’s foundational pillars: honor, connect, inspire and educate — examples of which are found throughout the building.

Glenn was especially focused on the inspiration part, according to Amy Taylor, who has been working on the project as part of the Columbus Downtown Development Corp., a private, nonprofit organization. She said Glenn wanted to inspire people to serve, not necessarily in the military, but in whatever way they chose.

“When you go through the museum and see the selflessness and sacrifice that so many of our veterans have made, you’re looking for opportunities to do the same kinds of things in your own life,” Taylor said. “Every time, I leave inspired. Every time, I have goosebumps, and that’s really what Sen. Glenn wanted.”

One of the artifacts at the museum is a presentation sword given in 1852 by Maj. Daniel McCook to his son, Alexander McCook, at his graduation from West Point. More interesting than that gift, though, is the story of the McCook family. More than a dozen of them, cousins and brothers known as the Fighting McCooks, served in the Union Army during the Civil War. Six rose in the ranks to become brigadier generals or higher; five died during the war.

There’s no question that the exhibits will draw an emotional response. How can they not, with video of soldiers like Joshua Mantz, the West Point dreamer, describing his Iraq combat experience when a sniper bullet severed his femoral artery?

“I could feel myself starting to die. I woke up about two days later in the Green Zone to learn that I flat-lined for 15 minutes straight. I also learned something that still gives me chills to this day, and the medical team just pulled off a miracle. … They got a faint pulse back. And as they were taking me to the Black Hawk helicopter … my scouts were waiting out there. They stopped the medical team and they took the stretcher from them and said, ‘He’s our lieutenant, we’re putting him on that bird.’”

War and peace. Life and death. Honor and survival. History and homecoming.

Terri Colby is a freelance writer.

If you go

The museum, 300 W. Broad St., is open 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. Wednesday to Sunday, or Tuesday to Sunday from Memorial Day to Labor Day. It will be open Monday, Nov. 12, in honor of Veterans Day. Admission is $17; $12 for veterans.

Well, maybe it wasn’t that unusual, considering that I was breakfasting just outside of Columbus, Ohio, at the brand new DogHouse, whose Scottish owners claim is the world’s first crowdfunded craft beer hotel.

The man drinking beer for breakfast might just be a sign of the times for the Ohio capital, where the craft beer scene is hopping; the number of breweries in the greater Columbus region has more than doubled over the past three years. The first post-Prohibition microbrewery to open in the city was Columbus Brewing Company in 1988. By 2015 there were 20, then 43 in 2018.

The recent speedy growth is clear to see, but what’s more difficult to pinpoint is how Columbus stacks up against other noted U.S. beer towns like San Diego, the Portlands — both Oregon and Maine — and Asheville, N.C. Regardless of where Columbus ranks with those other craft brew hot spots, what sets it apart is that this area is the place that the outrageous Scottish brand BrewDog chose as its U.S. home base and the location for its DogHouse hotel.

The 32-room DogHouse opened in late August, inviting guests into its playful, barlike lobby and industrial-chic spaces filled with neon signs and beer quotes. But this is no smelly beer hangout for foggy-brained fraternity bros, that is, unless they have pretty deep pockets. My suite on opening day, a Monday night, cost $284. On the Tuesday when I saw the guy with the breakfast beer flight, it seemed that most of the people staying at the hotel were some kind of beer nerds: industry people in town for the opening, brewers from neighboring states, home brewers or locals who are big beer fans.

DogHouse is a part of BrewDog’s 42-acre Ohio complex, about 15 miles southeast of downtown Columbus. In addition to the brewery itself, there is a taproom with a full menu serving dishes like chili chorizo pizza and cauliflower wings; extensive outdoor space with fire pits and picnic tables, and the BrewDog Beer Museum, a 6,000-square-foot ode to the brewing process, beer’s long history, and BrewDog’s place in that narrative. At the hotel, the four rooms that are set aside for customers with dogs give easy access to outdoor space designed for canines.

Rooms have mini-fridges stocked with canned beer. My room had two, with one of them inside the bathroom for guests who want to pop open a cold one while taking a shower. Columbus’ Glenn Avenue Soap Co. developed shampoo and other personal care items with a scent that mimics the aroma of BrewDog’s Elvis Juice, a grapefruit-infused IPA. Each room also comes equipped with a beer tap. Guests pick the draft beer they want for the growler in their room and pay for it at checkout. My growler with Punk IPA, BrewDog’s signature beer, cost $16.

Guest rooms overlook the soon-to-open sour beer facility, filled with wooden kegs and large foeders, or casks used for aging the sour beers. Some rooms have large windows facing the hallway that opens to the brewing area below. Others, like my suite, have an overhead garage door that can be raised to better take in the brewing experience.

Overnight rates vary depending on dates. Prices start at $162 a night for standard rooms, $240 for suites.

BrewDog, a 10-year-old brewer that sold more than $125 million worth of beer in 2017, seems at times more of a marketing company than a beer producer. Its two young founders have delivered over-the-top stunts like driving a tank through North London, projecting naked images of its owners on the Houses of Parliament, and brewing beer at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean. BrewDog raised more than $300,000 for the hotel via a crowdfunding campaign.

BrewDog co-founder James Watt has said that when he arrived in U.S. cities, he would take to Twitter to solicit advice about where to go for a beer.

“When I did that in Columbus, Ohio, my phone just exploded with people tweeting me back,” Watts said in a video interview on Fortune.com. “It felt like home. I was there for 12 hours, and after that 12-hour visit, I decided that was where our home was going to be in the U.S.”

Indeed, a trip to Columbus delivers more than a weekend full of tasting options from creative and passionate brewers.

Take Rockmill Brewery and its fine saisons, a beer style developed in the Middle Ages in the French-speaking Wallonia region of Belgium at a time when workers drank beer instead of possibly contaminated drinking water. It turns out that the composition of the water at the brewery is remarkably similar to that of Wallonia.

Matthew Barbee, grandson of an Ohio vintner, opened Rockmill in 2010 along with his mother, Judy Jones, turning his focus from wine to beer once he discovered he could brew beer that could be paired successfully with food. The brewery is on a former horse farm about 30 minutes from Columbus near Lancaster. There, a tasting room is the centerpiece of an idyllic property with expansive green lawns, a tiny chapel, a river and a small lake. The tasting room at the farm is popular for weekend picnics, but you can also sample the brews at Rockmill’s downtown Columbus tavern, serving lunch and dinner.

“I built this brewery on saison,” he said during a tasting at the farm, explaining that the yeast strain helps develop a complex taste. “These flavor components are also conducive to pairing with food, which I find very exciting.”

On a three-day tour of the Columbus beer scene, I barely scratched the surface in the fourth fastest-growing large city in the U.S., a population boom that’s likely helped fuel the flourishing brew scene.

On my trip, every brewery I visited was worth a stop. Check out Land-Grant, Hoof Hearted, Elevator, Sideswipe, Four String, Smokehouse and Wolf’s Ridge.

The Columbus tourism bureau’s website is a good resource to plan your own brewery itinerary. Or get in touch with Columbus Brew Adventures for a public or private tour curated by a local.

Real beer aficionados might also want to check out Craft & Vinyl, where you can sample the local brews on tap, scour the racks of used and new vinyl LPs, play some pinball and even book time in the on-site recording studio.

At Glenn Avenue Soap, pick up hand-crafted soaps made with local beer for a sudsy souvenir that doesn’t come in a bottle or glass.

Terri Colby is a freelance writer.

“I felt like if it wasn’t a family wedding, we probably wouldn’t have done it,” said Samantha Kellgren, 33. “I didn’t know how it would go. Would he be awake the whole time and still be in a good mood?”

So, like any good parents, they turned to bribery.

Traveling with an infant, they were among the early boarders on the June 7 flight with unassigned seats. They chose a middle and an aisle seat roughly 10 rows back, with Brett on the aisle and Samantha in the middle holding Owen.

When the seats around them were filled, Brett passed out about a dozen goody bags to nearby flyers. Inside were ear plugs, gum, some snacks and a note with a picture of the baby and this message: “Hi there, my name is Owen and I just turned 4 months old! This is my first flight and I’ll try my best to be on good behavior but just in case I get fussy this morning here are some goodies that I hope will help out. Enjoy your flight!”

The gesture went over well, Samantha said, with some people even saying the care packages weren’t necessary. One woman in front of them stood up just to get a good look at the baby.

Turns out the Kellgrens didn’t need the bags. Owen wasn’t bothered by the takeoff and landing, and he didn’t cry or get fussy during the flight. Instead, he smiled at the lady next to him in the window seat (a grandma) and spent time looking around and taking everything in, Samantha said.

On the way home a few days later, Owen fell asleep before the flight even took off. He slept the whole way. Good thing, because the Kellgrens didn’t bring treats for the return flight.

Terri Colby is a freelance writer.

A roadside sign beneath Flagstaff Hill points the way to this path, where you can walk in the actual ruts made during the mid-1800s by the wagon trains on the Oregon Trail.

The sage and other brush along the trail may have thinned or thickened over time, but the vista is undoubtedly the same as that seen by the adventurers who made the 2,000-mile, six-month-long trek to the Oregon Territory in the American West. A tan-and-green valley covers the foreground, and the majestic and imposing forested Blue Mountains dominate the sky.

It’s impossible to ignore the ghosts of the pioneers who walked this way and helped shape America’s destiny. With at least a month’s journey still ahead at this point, did they appreciate the beauty of the mountain view? Or was it just stark evidence of another near-impossible task to master?

This year, Oregon is marking the 175th anniversary of the trail, commemorating the first large, organized wagon train that left in late May of 1843 from near Independence, Mo.

There were diary accounts made at the time and shortly thereafter, but even still, details about that group vary widely. Some say as many as 1,000 people began the trek; others say it was between 500 and 700 people in 113 wagons, with as many as 5,000 livestock along for good measure.

What’s clear is that the U.S. government encouraged people to make the journey, hoping that a greater population of Americans in the Oregon Territory would help wrest control of the disputed land from the British.

Politicians were determined to expand the United States “from one ocean to the other,” but individuals were looking for a better life after economic woes hit during the 1830s, said Kelly Burns, supervisory park ranger at the National Historic Oregon Trail Interpretive Center near Baker City.

But there was more to it than that. The sense of adventure and the monumental challenge of traveling so far and so long into mostly uncharted territory shows determination.

“We can all understand the idea of leaving something you love for the goal of getting something better, and the whole trail thing, the opening of the West, the infinite possibilities,” Burns said.

It took between five and six months to make it to Oregon City, the end of the trail, where in later years a man could file papers to claim 320 acres of land — 640 if he was married.

Roughly 400,000 people are estimated to have made the wagon-train journey. About 10 percent died along the way. The peak year was 1850, when some 55,000 traveled the route. The caravans started trailing off in the 1870s when train travel became an option.

What’s striking to a visitor is how near the history of the Oregon Trail seems, not just in physical terms but in time. It’s not really all that long ago.

For example, Baker City winemaker Travis Cook, 33, is a descendant of one of the last families to travel the trail, in 1894. His great-grandfather was born shortly after the family arrived in Oregon.

Cook said the spirit of the pioneers — one based on hard work and striving for a better life — is still part of the culture around Baker City.

“Every day, we look forward and try to make our dreams happen,” he said.

For lovers of American history, a visit to Oregon is a way to follow in the footsteps of the pioneers. Outside Baker City, in the eastern part of the state, is the National Historic Oregon Trail Interpretive Center, a 23,000-square-foot facility atop Flagstaff Hill that overlooks the well-preserved ruts from the 19th century.

Engaging exhibits include short movies, dioramas and a spot where children can stock a wagon, deciding on what is most important to bring when packing for a new life. But exploring the outdoor spaces and the actual ruts in the valley might be the most evocative activity.

On the other side of the state, in Oregon City, is the End of the Oregon Trail Interpretive Center, a smaller, but similarly well-done facility that also documents the history of the trail.

Today’s travelers can visit both spots over the course of a couple of days with stops along the way for rest and refreshment, sometimes driving along the original route that took the pioneers about a month to traverse. You’ll be able to restock your provisions, but instead of making history, you’ll be retracing it.

Terri Colby is a freelance writer.

If you go:

End of the Oregon Trail Interpretive Center: The Oregon City facility is a short distance from Portland, so it’s an easy day trip from there. Open daily. Adult admission is $13, less for children.

Philip Foster Farm: About 17 miles east of Oregon City, this living history site in Eagle Creek was a key rest stop for travelers on the Oregon Trail. The farmhouse and barn are still here, and replicas of a store, blacksmith shop and other structures have been built on the property. Open May through October. Admission is $5 a person, $20 per family.

National Historic Oregon Trail Interpretive Center: Located 5 miles east of Baker City, the center is about 300 miles from Portland. A road trip offers interesting stops along the way, many with Oregon Trail connections: Mount Hood, The Dalles, Pendleton. Open daily in spring, summer and fall. Adult admission is $8, children 15 and under are free. This is where you can easily see the wagon trail ruts. The center’s annual Labor Day Weekend Wagon Encampment is one of its biggest events, with costumed volunteers helping visitors understand the story of the trail and its travelers.

Baker City: Stay at the Geiser Grand Hotel, originally opened in 1889, to soak up some historic elegance. Prices for the least expensive rooms begin at $109 a night. Oregon is noted for its beer, and Barley Brown’s brewpub is a good place to have some, along with decent food.