Photos by Kevin Miyazaki/Redux
Lake at Camp Wandawega
Old-school paddling on Lake Wandawega
Camp Wandawega cuts an imposingly hip figure. On social media and in magazines, it’s a wonderland of curated vintage ephemera—and curated patrons to match. A summer camp accidentally frozen in time but deliberately kept that way.
Before making the pilgrimage to Elkhorn, Wisconsin, I looked at Wandawega as the resort equivalent of deadstock boots. Picture a pair of Red Wing 877s, boxed in 1956 and entombed in the stockroom of a defunct general store on a faded main street. Until one day a picker rediscovers the Red Wings and trots them back out in the secondary marketplace. Do they feel more authentic for the time travel? Fake? Uncomfortable? Could I, personally, get away with wearing them to the Turf Club?
Camp Wandawega
The Bunkhouse
From afar, you’d swear that if Steve McQueen rumbled into Camp Wandawega astride his Triumph TR6 Trophy, fresh from The Great Escape, he’d be the 14th coolest person there. My wife and I, by contrast, drive east on I-94 in an aging (but not quite collectible) Volvo. And on the way I can’t shake the feeling that our marginal Instagram skills and inability to identify selvedge denim render us unworthy of the note-perfect Americana that awaits us.
It’s dark when we arrive. Most of the weekend’s other (adult) campers have already congregated for libations in the common area next to the main lodge. Armed with nothing more than a cooler full of Pabst, we dive in.
Wandawega lived many lives—speakeasy, brothel, summer resort, Latvian church camp—before married couple David Hernandez and Tereasa Surratt got their mitts on the 25-acre campus in 2004. In their day jobs, the proprietors are Chicago advertising creatives; on the weekends they’re junk-shop connoisseurs—prolific collectors of antique miscellany. And they’ve transformed their most extravagant purchase yet, the Lake Geneva area summer camp that David attended as a kid, into a veritable Wes Anderson set. It’s a Moonrise Kingdom of Boy Scout tents, treehouses, probably-too-dangerous rope swings, leaky tipis, and tidy retro bunkhouses.
Over the years, David and Tereasa have slowly perfected the imperfection of the 1920s-era summer resort, whose most modern amenity might be knob-and-tube wiring. (The promo kit includes a “Manifesto of Low Expectations.”) And they’ve added flourishes of their own, like a vintage camper here or a salvaged cottage there. Professional lifestyle marketers have taken notice. Wandawega has collaborated commercially with a who’s-who of hip brands like Land of Nod, Penfield, Ural Motorcycles, and Faribault Woolen Mill.
But here’s what becomes clear when you actually walk up to camp with a sloshing cooler full of lawnmower beer and receive an easy welcome. Despite all that artifice, David and Tereasa are real people and they’ve created a real place. And part of the reason the scene appears so appealing in Land of Nod catalogs is that, well, it kinda is appealing.
On Saturday morning, after a communal breakfast cooked by a person who wasn’t us, a few carloads of campers set out to forage for supplies in downtown Elkhorn. Feeling the love, we hitch a ride. The general idea is to find appropriate accoutrements (pocket knives, canteens, or, hell, maybe some Jarts) for a weekend in the woods. But I discover three vintage turntables under a stack of Full House VHS tapes and don’t look back.
After a pit stop for soft serve at a drive-in called Annie’s Burgertown, we roll back into camp for an aimless afternoon of rope swinging, swimming, and general frivolity. But first David and Tereasa cheerfully inspect our loot—even though the truth is, they snatched up Elkhorn’s campiest collectibles long ago. The evidence is on display at Wandawega, not as décor but as actual gear. Tennis is played with wood rackets, archery performed with old scout bows, and paddling done in 1970s aluminum canoes.
Camp Wandawega decor
In Cedar Cabin, looking good is never a luxury
Our crew is a paltry cull. Shabby binoculars, broken cameras, old baseball bats. But when David sees my score, his face brightens and he recedes back into the main lodge. Ten minutes later, he comes out with the first of two hulking Audio Research studio speakers—gear that didn’t come cheap in 1970—and insists I take them. Free of charge. A little open space in his attic, he says, is payment enough.
The rest of the day turns into a blur of crooked arrows flying at crookeder hay bales, plus beers around bonfires the size of The Darjeeling Limited's elephants.
When we leave Camp Wandawega on Sunday, we do so with three vintage turntables and a massive pair of wooden speakers wedged into the trunk of the Volvo. Atop them sit our duffle bags and the cooler. With each rut we hit on the dirt road out of camp, a leftover can or two of Pabst (down from 30) makes a joyful rattle—a big beer maraca to celebrate a truly great escape.
While you're there...
Sleeping
The camp can be rented year-round for weekend parties, retreats, etc.; cabins and other assorted lodgings start at $550 a night and can be booked through Airbnb. Camp Wandawega, W5453 Lake View, Elkhorn, Wis., wandawega.com
Drive-In Snacking
Camp is BYOB and BYOC (cheeseburgers). For soft serve and a greasy double stack, you’ll need to take yourself to Annie’s Burgertown. The half-century-old drive-in, complete with carhops, slings burgers at vintage prices (a double cheeseburger is $3.99!) and homemade root beer by the gallon for $4.99. 645 N. Lincoln St., Elkhorn, Wis., 262-723-3250, anniesburgertown.com
Phishing
Wandawega sits 15 minutes from the upper Midwest’s version of Red Rocks, Alpine Valley Music Theatre. The 35,600-capacity grass amphitheater was a regular stop for the Grateful Dead. Today, it’s a favorite for the likes of Phish, Dave Matthews Band, and the Zac Brown Band. 2699 Co. Rd. D, East Troy, Wis., 262-642-4400, alpinevalleymusictheatre.org
Provisioning
Pick up food for the grill from Wilson Farm Meats, which sells brats, fresh racks of pork or beef ribs, and a selection of Wisconsin cheeses and beers. 406 S. Wisconsin St., Elkhorn, Wis., 262-723-2919, wilsonfarmmeats.com
