Sand, Corn Dogs, and Funnel Cake Fries: Indiana Dunes National Park

We’ll admit, “beach day” in Indiana wasn’t what we expected—especially when the wind off Lake Michigan made us question what month it was. But here, tucked along the southern shore of the lake, Indiana Dunes National Park proved that beauty can be cold, wild, and wonderfully surprising.

This is Indiana’s one and only national park—officially crowned in 2019 after years as a National Lakeshore—and it shares its space with the state park nearby. Naturally, we headed straight to the state park for a shot at the tallest dunes in Indiana. The famed “Three Dune Challenge” was, unfortunately, a bit ambitious for a wind-chilled morning with five kids and one sandy spaniel. So we adjusted expectations: climbed one dune, then sprinted back down toward the lake as the wind tried to turn our coats into kites.

Once we stepped out from behind the dunes, the windchill dropped toward freezing. James, of course, was unfazed—completely absorbed in moving sand from one spot to another with toddler-level determination. Poky was in heaven, digging with the intensity of a dog who believes the treasure must be in there somewhere. The rest of us tucked our faces into our coats and pushed through with the promise of lunch.

But the real power of this park isn’t just the dunes—it’s the wetlands. These often-overlooked pockets of life are critical waystations for migratory birds. Indiana Dunes sits at the crossroads of two major flyways, and its wetlands offer a rest stop to thousands of birds journeying north and south each year. It is sobering to consider how much of the Midwest’s wetlands have been lost—drained away for farms, roads, and neighborhoods. What remains here is not just precious, it’s vital. We didn’t make it to the birding festival that had just wrapped up, but we could still hear and see evidence of travelers overhead—warblers, herons, even a crane or two cutting through the sky.

Lunch, in true Midwestern fashion, came deep-fried and on a stick or in the form of a stick: corn dogs, mozzarella sticks, funnel cake fries. Everything is certainly more popular and transportable with kids when it’s dipped in batter and easily grabbed by little hands. Even better when you can pass it around the car like a torch of shared joy (and grease).

Indiana Dunes gave us sand, wind, birdcalls, and a meal that defied nutrition but embraced convenience. And somehow, in the cold and the crunch, it left a warmth that stuck with us.