The Open-Air Resort of D.H. Day Campground
By Rebecca G Carlson
Sun contributor
The sixth story in our series on the history of Leelanau County resorts and getaways.
“We do not go to the green woods and crystal waters to rough it, we go to smooth it. We get it rough enough at home, in towns and cities” are the prophetic words of Civil War veteran and expert outdoorsman George Washington Sears written in his 1884 camping primer, Woodcraft and Camping (Gutenberg.org 14). For those seeking it, there was serenity in heading to “the green woods” to “smooth” out a busy life. Nessmuk’s words, Sears’ adopted Algonquin pen name, offers timeless advice.
This visionary proponent of “light” camping, less is more and healthier for the environment, would, I imagine, be disgusted by the idea of “glamping” and luxury motorhomes. Honestly, at this point, camping in modern terms translates to basically packing up and transferring the household (using more disposable items) to a camper, tent, motorhome, or yurt. However, camping, in whatever age, attracts those of us who want freedom and outdoor green space.
According to a mentee of Sears, late 19th century outdoorsmen Horace Kephart in his 1917 seminal camping guide, Camping and Woodcraft, (a similar title but Kephart writes a more thorough work of living outdoors), he explains why camping is important to a healthy lifestyle. Camping allows everyone to “pick up those lost arts of wildcraft that were our heritage through ages past” (Kephart 20). As Kephart proved, returning to our early roots of spending time in the wilderness benefits everyone mentally and physically.
In 1904 at the age of 42, Kephart heads to the wilds of the Great Smokies Mountains to seek solace from “nervous exhaustion” for about three years. Leaving behind family and friends, Kephart writes, “It is one of the blessings of wilderness life that it shows us how few things we need in order to be perfectly happy” (smokieslife.org). The three years he spends in the Smoky Mountains are productive both for his health and writing a work still used and celebrated in the 21st century. “Camping and Woodcraft remains a standard for practical advice on outdoor activities, even…one hundred years” later (Western Carolina University).
Kephart covers everything from first aid, hunting, butchering animals, sharpening tools, the type of tent or shelter to build depending on location, recipes for using locally wild plants safely, as well as diagrams and maps. The section on wilderness first aid offers useful and practical advice adopted by my grandmother: applying vinegar to reduce swelling and pain for a bee sting. As there were 10 of us grandchildren of all ages running around woods, fields, and orchards, stinging insects were around and we found them at various stages. So, grandma was ready with the vinegar and tweezers, and it always worked.
Before my family purchased cherry orchard property, we were campers, and, I’ll be honest, not exactly roughing it campers. Heading to D.H. Day Campground several times each summer, our cars were overloaded, not with children, but with stuff. The children were mixed in between the crevices and cracks of the stuff (my technical term). Nessmuk is groaning from the grave.
Once all four families reached the campground, the great unpacking began. It would turn into a compound of three, musty, old army tents, and one pop-up camper. Yes, my mother Megan drew the line at sleeping on the ground in a sleeping bag. By having the pop-up camper, it allowed her to ‘feel’ that she was making it harder for critters and insects to invade her sleeping space. The idea that the camper had a ‘door’ also made her feel safer. There was the inevitable teasing of the ‘cheater’ camping by my family occupying the tents, but during rainstorms, I am sure Megan was smiling in her nice, warm bed with a dry mattress.
As a child, camping at D.H. Day equaled freedom and happiness. After a few days in the campground, a posse of other children joined us to play games, go to the beach, or explore the woods surrounding the campground. There were zero electronic devices to entertain us, just the outdoors. Playing hide-n-seek, making up imaginary scenario games, and creating treasure hunts with some form of candy (think Razzles, sweettart necklaces, or little packets of poprocks), we were the definition of free-range children in the perfect oasis of D.H. Day Campground.
Nighttime was magical sitting around the big family bonfire as my grandfather played guitar and my dad played the harmonica, we sang camp songs, and cooked marshmallows. The dark skies overhead were perfect for stargazing with my grandfather’s traveling telescope, especially at the beach.
The biggest dangers we faced were getting hit with a jart, horseshoe, or a giant flaming marshmallow. I was notorious for burning marshmallows which were barely hanging on to the whittled sticks and waving it around while I talked. One time I nailed my mom in the head with it—not good. It took a special trip to a hair salon to get all the burned sugar mess out.
Camping at D.H. Day meant no hard rules or time schedules to follow. According to Kephart, “It shall be what o’clock I say it is!” (17). Breakfast, lunch, and dinner happened when it happened – no set timeframe. Sometimes it took longer to get breakfast cooked over the camp stove, lunch meant sandwiches at the beach, sand crunch as a bonus, and dinner depended on how long it took for the potatoes to cook buried in the hot coals. And, we didn’t care. We children were too busy running around with the campground posse. Bedtime was fluid. If there was a night the Milky Way or northern lights came out past bedtime, we were awoken to see them. It was an event to be shared.
Anyone who has camped knows there is nothing like food cooked in the open air. Food preparation while camping was an event and everyone helped. Even 40 years later, we all still remember and reminisce. Bacon, eggs, and potatoes cooked over a camp stove or the open fire are mouthwatering. Even to this day, the aromas remain with you. There is no awful food cooked while camping – unless someone really doesn’t know what they are doing.
In our family we had some amazing cooks in the kitchen and out of it – men and women. So, we ate well. Sandwiches on the beach meant having the best view on earth while eating your crunchy PB & J – is sand fiber? But dinner was the main event of the day. Hamburgers, hotdogs, bratwurst, or chicken cooked over an open fire was ambrosia. The potatoes, there were always potatoes, were carefully wrapped in tin foil and buried in the fire coals—seriously. We also prepared corn on the cob the same way. Dessert? It was a treat to leave the campground and head to the local ice cream stand in Glen Arbor—or we ate a lot of s’mores!
Short of writing the past couple of articles, I never gave too much thought to the name D.H. Day. It has only been recently that I have learned more about David Henry Day and his legacy. Whether anyone views him positively or negatively, Day left all of us an amazing legacy of preserved land every visitor to the area continues to enjoy in 2025. For myself and my family, I am grateful for the 32-acres of land he donated in 1920 to the State of Michigan to become D.H. Day State Park. As a father of nine children, Day understood the importance of preserving and protecting land for all future generations. For that, I thank him.
To this day, even mentioning D.H. Day Campground in my family still brings big smiles to everyone. We are all huge fans and still have great memories. Located west of Glen Arbor off M-109 at 8000 W. Harbor Hwy, this campground and Day’s legacy is still serving the public more than 100 years after donating the land.
The park is open from April to November with 87 campsites and 700 frontage feet of sugar, sandy beach on Lake Michigan. The park is beloved by those searching for “rustic” camping. Many camping websites and reviews unanimously extolled the virtues of this park such as, “Primitive camping at Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore with access to a gorgeous beach” (Campendium.com). However, I rolled my eyes for the inclusion of cell coverage maps—it’s amazing all of us during the ’70s and ’80s survived without phones on our camping trips.
But camping is not for everyone, thus the success of local resorts. As an older, fastidious aunt once remarked, “Only gypsies camp”—yes, and? However, I will defer to Kephart’s words on the matter. “There is a dash of the gipsy in every one of us who is worth his salt” (22). Agreed!
