Travel

Adventure 3: DOOR COUNTY WISCONSIN – DAY 6

September 26, 2020

On Saturday morning, I continued to work my way slowly back toward my departure point in Moline, Illinois. The most memorable aspect of this leg was my sheer intuition-based stop in Mineral Point, Wisconsin as I drove south on Wisconsin highway 23, branching off just about due southward from US highway 151. I saw the sign that said “Mineral Point,” and I said aloud: “Now that sounds interesting!” When I pulled off of Highway 23, I glanced to my left and saw a remarkable old brick building that looked to me like a repurposed factory. As turned out, I was exactly right. What I had discovered – purely by accident – was a business called Brewery Pottery Studio and Gallery.

The complex is an ancient brewery, purchased in 1992 by Tom and Diana Johnston. The Johnstons had just gotten through a period of 21 years where they travelled to do art fairs, and they decided they wanted a real brick-and-mortar studio of their own. Their specialty is handcrafted heirlooms “to enhance your everyday.” (Take a look at their offerings at brewerypottery.com; some cool stuff out there!) So anyway, the gravel parking lot was empty. The building looked well maintained, with gorgeous flowers and interesting (if eclectic) sculptures and artwork interspersed around the 3 largest buildings. (There is an even larger old barn, which I’m not counting here.) I got out and began to shoot photos of the exteriors because the buildings are great artistically, but it looked as though no one was home.

While I was absorbed in my photography, another car pulled into the parking lot and waited patiently for me to get out of the way so that she could finally park. I never heard her approach, so I apologized when a nice lady emerged from the car. She said it was no trouble at all, and launched into an explanation – or at least a colorful description – of the Brewery studio and gallery. She had come to do her Christmas shopping, it seemed, but – like me – determined that the shop was closed. After she’d left, as I continued to shoot exterior photos, Mr. Johnston emerged from the building and chatted with me for a bit. He’d observed me through the window as he was doing dishes, he reported. Seemed like a nice enough fellow. I wish I could have visited the gallery; maybe someday if they survive the COVID chaos. The property is beautiful, filled with ancient barns, decaying VW Beetles, and quirky works of art.

I’m hoping to return to Mineral Point one day just to explore the community more, even if the Brewery Pottery Studio never reopens. It’s a very pretty and significantly historic community, and the people there seem quite friendly. I’d like to understand that history better, and the impacts of lead and zinc on everything from immigration to economic development to architecture. The city was listed in the Register of Historic Places in 1971 – the first Wisconsin city to receive that designation. I did have an opportunity to wander along one of the streets lined with historical buildings saved by a preservation movement initiated back in 1935. But all of the buildings were locked up tight, of course – once again, presumably due to the COVID craziness. The area was quite beautiful in a Mayberry kind of way, with mossy roofed stone buildings embedded in the vine-covered hillside, and well worth a return visit.

Another segment of the home-bound trip that I’d like to revisit is the stretch between Dubuque, Iowa and Davenport, Iowa. There are a lot of beautiful old barns out that way that I just didn’t have an adequate opportunity to visit and photograph. Maybe one day. Here is one additional story from my Door County excursion. I had pulled off Route 61 at Plum Hollow road working my way back to the south, to look at a particularly interesting old barn.

I was just sitting on this old gravel road and getting ready to take a photo of the barn from my truck, and I was spotted by a sentry. It became clear to me that the sentry was the alpha member of resident herd of cows, and when my camera came into view, the cow was not happy. A special coded alert was “moo-ed” out (kind of like the special “twilight bark” used by Pongo and Perdida to locate the 101 Dalmatians) and the entire herd stood, lined up single file, and strode hurriedly around the pen to hide behind the barn. Only the sentry remained, warily peering at me around the corner of their recently collapsed barn. One of the funniest things I’ve ever seen, but – again, it’s like my squirrel story. You probably had to be there.

The herd in hiding behind the ruins of their barn

In the meantime, this was a great trip; I had a blast, met a lot of nice people and virtually none that were unkind. Saw a lot of beautiful scenery, and learned a lot about the ownership and operation of lighthouses.

Highlights