Landed at 18A en route to Oshkosh for fuel and a quick stop. The runway had more weeds than pavement. Self-serve pump, no staff visible. Inside, there was a snack table, an honesty jar (“$1—God’s Watching”), and a restroom with toilet paper so soft I almost skipped Oshkosh. After fueling, we launched… and then the NOTAM dropped: arrivals closed. Our dream died over Wisconsin. No Oshkosh this time, but 18A? Pure magic. I would stop here again. Might never leave.