How We Survived Dunes, Storms, and Historic Houses.
One doesn’t think of Indiana as having a huge National Park. At least, we didn’t. But there are 20 miles of Lake Michigan shoreline, along with thousands of acres, that have been designated for this remarkable place. We were merely passing through, but our route guaranteed we could check off another item on our ever-growing bucket list. It’s one of the “newer” National Parks, although it has been a National Lakeshore since 1966, re-designated as a National Park in 2019.
But, before we went trekking in the National Park, we armed ourselves with brochures and local knowledge at the Indiana Welcome Center.
Indiana Dunes National Park is no ordinary stretch of sand—it’s a living, breathing playground where nature, history, and a little bit of chaos collide with rolling dunes, mysterious marshes, and forests bursting with wildlife, all waiting to surprise you with every step. Did we mention there are over 1,100 native plants and 200+ bird species? If you’re an aspiring botanist or just like chasing butterflies like me, this is your wonderland.
Long before there were selfies on the lakeshore, Indigenous peoples camped here, leaving behind stories and treasures that stretch back for years. Today, millions venture into these habitats—tiptoeing through nature’s living museum—where resilient landscapes bounce back from centuries of adventures and misadventures.
We rolled up towing our trusty Airstream, hoping the Visitor Center had answers to the meaning of life (or at least a good parking spot). Bonus: you can boondock there—a fact we learned just as a heat wave and thunderstorm crashed our best-laid plans.
The ranger who directed us to the Passport stamp also suggested we go to Gary, Indiana, but that would’ve meant a 15-mile detour backwards while pulling the Airstream. Climbing 1.5 miles of tough trail with 552 vertical feet to conquer the “three dune challenge” was another un-appealing option in 100 degree temperatures. Instead, we mapped out our own version of “National Park Express,” hitting three classic stops: Beverly Shores, The Great Marsh Trail, and Mt. Baldy.
Beverly Shores: Named after his daughter, the famed developer created a place where people and buildings could truly call home, like the legendary 1933 Chicago World’s Fair houses.
A Century of Progress – The 1933 World’s Fair Homes. This was an unexpected but very interesting and unique find. My architecture and real estate friends may find this fun to read. Lakeshore Drive is where futuristic “modern” homes are on display that were brought here from Chicago after the 1933 World’s Fair. You can’t park on the street, so I was feverishly snapping pictures in hopes of getting one or two good ones. Without even realizing it, I captured all five of the 1933 World’s Fair Homes on display there. If you want to read more about each home, scroll to the bottom of this blog.
These futuristic gems—like the Wieboldt-Rostone House, Florida Tropical House, and the indestructible (sort of) Cypress Log Cabin—were shipped here by barge and are now historic eye candy. Snap your pics fast, as street parking is a rare beast. Want to tour them? Annual tickets go on sale in August and vanish in an hour, $35 a pop. Feeling architectural? You can stay overnight in the restored Cypress Cabin and live out your lumberjack dreams.
Beverly Shores Depot and the Great Marsh Trail: We parked the Airstream next to the Beverly Shores Depot Museum & Art Gallery, which is part museum, part train station, and part hidden treasure. According to Wikipedia, “On July 19, 1989, the Beverly Shores station was added to the National Register of Historic Places.” The museum, a non-profit, keeps local history alive—and lets you park with a smile. It’s hard to find parking for a truck and a trailer in this area, so we were relieved when they let us park in their lot so we could go for a walk on the Great Marsh Trail.
Tim got wrangled into a work call, so I had free rein to hunt dragonflies, play hide-and-seek with turtles, and watch deer fawns put on an impromptu marsh ballet.
Mt. Baldy: This monster dune moves inland about FOUR FEET every year, devouring everything in its sandy path—including memories of an old parking lot. Today, if you want to climb it, you’ll need a park ranger as your personal sand sherpa. We nabbed one of two RV spots (a miracle!), then braved the up-and-down trail to the “ocean”—aka Lake Michigan. Storm clouds rolled in, so our beach day turned into a dash for cover, feet sandy, spirits high, and the crowd a vibrant mosaic of humanity, all enjoying the rain’s dramatic performance.
Storms around Lake Michigan don’t mess around, but they also don’t linger. We waited out the rain under a shelter, swapping stories, watching water blow sideways, and marveling at the wild mix of fellow travelers—bright saris, sandy pizza boxes, and coolers galore.
After a sand-filled hike, we surrendered to hotel comfort and an Olive Garden feast, feeling only a tiny pang of guilt for ditching our Harvest Host. First time canceling last-minute, but hey, sometimes Mother Nature hands you a raincheck with extra breadsticks. The shower felt like salvation and dinner was better than expected (free delivery + bonus entrée = score!). Sometimes, adventure means knowing when to jump into comfort, and when to let the dunes take care of the rest.
Here’s a video of our experiences in Indiana Dunes National Park. Tim is on a call, so he didn’t feel like smiling 😂😂.
And that’s how you do the Indiana Dunes: with laughter, sand between your toes, and a healthy dose of flexibility. Ready for your own wild ride?
À la prochaine…hasta la próxima vez…until next time!
“I am the Lord, who heals you.”
Exodus 15:26