The drive to Michael and Angela Hart’s Wisconsin cabin makes a strong case for the old “journey not the destination” adage. Particularly handsome is the span on Highway 64, where sleepy outposts like Forest and Connorsville promise coffee and live bait, and fat cows on rolling hills encourage pastoral fantasy (“I could trade city life for this,” you might find yourself thinking). The state’s charm offensive gets out of hand when you hit the homestretch, a rustic backstreet snaking through pristine stands of old-growth red oak.
But just when you think Journey’s got this thing in the bag, Destination appears in the form of a box in the woods.
Photos by Sara Rubinstein
A place like this goes on the definitely pile. Holy hell what a beauty.
