My dad and Door County are forever intertwined in my heart and mind. One of my earliest memories is unzipping the heavy canvas door of our tent in Peninsula State Park in Wisconsin , climbing out into the crisp morning air, pulling on my hooded sweatshirt, and seeing my dad crouching next to the campfire. Wisps of smoke would come from the logs and kindling as the struggling fire tried to catch. The smell of sweet pine and musty canvas mingled with campfire smoke to create a scent only true campers can recognize. My parents were not wealthy. They were both public school teachers which meant they had lots of time to spend with us kids, but very little money. Hotel vacations were foreign. Most summers, we piled into our 60s station wagon, packed the camper and headed to state parks. Our favorite destination was always Door County, Wisconsin. The drive seemed like it took hours from our home in the south suburbs of Chicago . In those days no one worri...