Gayle Harper

Photographer ~ Author ~ Traveler

Drifting through “The Driftless”

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First, thank you to everyone who sent good, healthy wishes! I know that it helped and I definitely feel better!

Just across the border from Wisconsin, is Galena, Illinois, a town of about 3500 residents that hosts a million or so tourists each year. They come to shop, eat and tour some of the blocks and blocks of magnificent historic structures. Many of the residential streets above Main Street are so crooked and steep, it’s hard to imagine building anything there. Sometimes the back door of a home is 3 or 4 stories lower than the front door! I found the history of Galena fascinating, but too complex to share with you here – that will have to wait for the book!

I was up and out hoping for a sunrise this morning. There was the briefest bit of lightness, then it clouded up and rained again all day! You may have heard on the news that there is flooding in some places in Minnesota and Wisconsin. In Prairie du Chien where I was a few days ago, they are preparing for possible sandbagging.

I thought I was heading south from Galena, but after a few miles found myself turning around and heading back up toward Sinsinawa, Wisconsin. I couldn’t say why, but I don’t question such things!  I knew there was a group of Dominican Catholic Sisters that lived on a hill overlooking the tiny town, but nothing more. It was still early when I arrived and I found I was in a quiet mood, not really interested in going inside, asking questions or introducing myself. So, I just quietly explored the campus and came upon a labyrinth, with a sign explaining its ancient history and its purpose as a tool for walking while praying or meditating. I’ve walked a labyrinth before and found it healing, centering and powerful – so I didn’t hesitate.  Afterward, I was both soothed and rejuvenated and felt my visit was complete.

I still hadn’t seen another person anywhere, but as I headed back to my car Sister Janette appeared and asked me to help her pick up a bench that had blown over in the wind. As we stood in the cool morning breeze, she looked up at me with bright, happy eyes and told me a bit about her life in the Dominican community and her job as the Librarian. When I told her of my project and gave her a postcard, she told me today is her birthday and our meeting and the postcard a gift. When I asked to take her photograph, she wanted to be shown holding the postcard.

I left, smiling at the wisdom of Serendipity that brought me here.

I spent several hours in the National Mississippi River Museum in Dubuque, Iowa. If you are not already in awe of this great river (and you probably are or you wouldn’t bother reading this), you will be after spending time there. It’s a part of the network of Smithsonian Museums and has all the quality and depth you would expect from that affiliation. The more I learn about the Mississippi, the more clear it is that in a lifetime one could only scratch the surface of what there is to know.

I landed in Clinton, Iowa, in the still pouring rain, but tomorrow holds promise of sunshine!

That was yesterday – and indeed today dawned bright and shiny – a world washed sparkly clean by all that rain. Although there is no noticeable change yet, there is much speculation about how much the river may rise as the water from up north makes its way downriver.

I’m nearing the southern end of the area known as “The Driftless”.  Three times over the millennia, great glaciers pushed their way south over the continent, leveling hills and leaving enormous deposits of rock and silt, know as drift. Due to some geologic stroke of fortune, each time the glaciers split and left a 16,000 square mile area around the Mississippi River valley untouched. As a result, the land formations are ancient and dramatic. The river meanders around islands and marshes in a deep valley bounded by huge bluffs and rock formations. It’s stunning and a terrain which doesn’t exist outside of this area where the states of Minnesota, Wisconsin, Illinois and Iowa meet.

From Lookout Point in Palisades State Park on the Illinois side, I caught a train following the curve of the river and a Turkey Vulture soaring on the wind currents.

And, I loved the solitude of this little island in the late afternoon light.

To top off the day, I wandered some ridge tops, looking for a vantage point to catch the full moon. I couldn’t find anyone to ask, but I’m a firm believer in the philosophy that it’s usually easier to get forgiveness than permission, so I followed a pasture road up a big hill. Eventually there was an iron gate into another pasture and if I had even a moment’s thought of walking beyond that to the crest of the hill, the big bull on the other side nixed that idea! The bull, his cows and I waited for the moon together quietly, each on our own side of the gate. What I love about this shot is that the village lights in the valley were a complete surprise – before darkness nothing was visible but trees.

Time to move on…see you soon!                       

                        Gayle

All Things to All Creatures

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Our little raindrop, whose name (obviously) is Serendipity, has drifted off into one of the many quiet, backwater sloughs of this area and is having a bit of a rest. Outside is yet another damp, murky day. Inside, the cold has morphed into a sinus infection, so my job for the day is to stay right here, take my antibiotics, eat apples, drink herbal tea and let the body heal. I’m in a cozy, comfortable space and have everything I need.

It’s Day 30 – exactly 1/3 of this journey is completed. If you’ve been following along since the start, you know how wondrous it has been.

I’ve had many conversations with people about what the Mississippi River means to them. Everyone comes to it with their own ideas, questions, perceptions and desires. I’m reminded of a moment when my spiritual Teacher was asked the question, “What are you?” and she answered, “Whatever you want me to be.”  So it is with the Mississippi.  Some people are looking for natural beauty and that is found easily.  Some look for adventure, history, transportation, recreation, wildlife or mystery. Those are found in abundance.  Some have told me it is their refuge, their solace in times of trouble – that no matter what is happening in their lives, they can always go to the river and feel comforted. My friend Terry, back up at the headwaters, says that is where he finds God. Whatever we ask of the river, it answers in kind.

Yesterday, two more people shared with me their unique perspectives of the great river. In Prairie du Chien, Michael Douglass, the Site Director of the Villa Louis, kindly took several hours from his day to show me this remarkable home, tell me of its history and help rearrange lighting and furniture in order for me to photograph it.

The Dousman family, who figured prominently in the history of this area, lived here from 1843 until 1913. You can read details of their history at the Villa Louis website if you like. As Michael and I worked together, bits and pieces of his vast store of historical knowledge came through in our conversation.

What also came through was his awareness that it is virtually impossible to separate the river from the spirituality of its people. As we photographed Mrs. Dousman’s personal altar and meditation area on the veranda, Michael told me about Nicholas Perrot, a French explorer of the Mississippi for whom a state park near here is named. Perrot carried with him in his boat a heavy silver “Monstrance” which held the consecrated host sacred to his Roman Catholic faith. For centuries the great river has brought a diverse flow of people, each searching for something different and each bringing with them whatever they hold most dear and sacred.

Long before any white explorers came through, the Native Peoples here called the river “mici zibi”, which has been translated to mean “Father of Waters”. They knew it brought new life, fed their people and nurtured the land. It has always given what is asked.

Jack Libbey told me the river gave him the life he had dreamed of since he was a small boy. For more than 30 years, Jack was a towboat captain, working on the river between St. Paul and New Orleans. Towboats, with their squared-off bows, are made for pushing barges. On the Upper Mississippi, they will push anywhere from one to 15 barges. But, below St. Louis, where the river is deeper and wider, tows can push as many as 40 to 60 barges at a time! Most of us have no clue how hard the river works, but to give you an idea – one barge carries the same amount of product as 58 semi-trucks! It’s beyond my imagination how such massive loads are maneuvered, particularly when you watch them slide perfectly into a lock like the one I showed you back in the post called “City Stuff” on September 11. Jack told me it’s a nightmare to have to drive a tow without a barge in front, as they have so much power the boat can just do a nosedive!

Because Jack has such appreciation and gratitude for his life on the river, he is now dedicating himself to educating others about it. Eight years ago he started Mississippi Explorer Cruises, taking people on eco-tours on the backwaters of the Mississippi River National Wildlife and Fish Refuge. The Refuge encompasses 240,000 acres along 261 miles of the Mississippi. The river valley is broad here and once beyond the main channel, there are hundreds of inlets, islands and marshes to explore.  His cruises now have departures from four river towns within the refuge. On the day we met, there was not a cruise scheduled from Prairie du Chien, but Jack and his wife, Dixie, were heading out on a “scouting” expedition in their flat-bottomed boat, and invited me along. 

It was too drizzly for decent photography, but we saw Bald Eagles and their enormous nests that can weigh thousands of pounds. He pulled up an arrowhead plant from the river bottom to show me the tuber that is the favorite treat of Tundra Swans. If you come here in November, you will likely see up to 25,000 of the majestic white birds, whose wing span can reach 85 inches, resting and feeding during their long migration. In fact, the river is a bird superhighway, as 60% of all North American birds travel the Mississippi River Basin as they migrate. For the wildlife as well, the river gives what is asked.

As for me – the only request I am aware of making of the river is the privilege of being in its presence. I simply ask for the eyes to see, ears to hear and heart to feel whatever it cares to reveal.

See you downriver!              Gayle

A Total Diversion

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Back in June my husband and I were invited to be guests aboard the Island Spirit for a 9-day cruise through the Inland Passage of Alaska. Immediately following that, I began the non-stop whirlwind preparations for this 90-day journey you and I are on now. There was not one spare minute available to process those images or write about that truly awesome experience. But I will once I am home again. For now, I just want to say that if you have any thought of traveling to Alaska’s legendary Inland Passage, this is the way to do it! 

Capt. Jeff will do absolutely anything within the bounds of safety to see that you have a fabulous adventure. He drives the 128’ boat like it was a VW bug and puts it into magnificent fjords where other boats only dream of going. There is a capacity of just 32 passengers and a relaxed, casual atmosphere – and the food is awesome! I can only say wonderful things about the entire experience.

Their website www.smallalaskaship.com includes a video produced by the videographer who was on the same cruise with us – it’s a great way to see what this is all about. (I’m the one without a face – there is always a camera in front of it. But, you can hear me squealing loud and clear when the whale was feeding, blowing and dancing about 50’ from the boat.)

It’s a long way from the Mississippi to Alaska, but I seem to know a lot of people who dream of traveling to that stunning, pristine land. If you are one of them, check this out, you can’t go wrong with Captain Jeff!        Gayle

Sweet Treats and Sacred Spaces

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Sometimes people look askance at me like they are not quite sure whether to believe that I have no schedule and that nothing other than where I will sleep is planned on this journey. But, if they could spend a day with me on the road and see the countless little miracles that unfold in the course of a single day, it would be very clear. Getting in the way of Serendipity would be a foolish mistake.

This morning in La Crescent, my friends Joan and Joseph and their Lions Club buddies were serving up a pancake breakfast for about 800 friends and neighbors and they invited me along. As I sat eating my special Mickey Mouse pancake, some of their friends told me of a couple of their favorite spots in La Crosse, Wisconsin, my next stop just across the river.  When a suggestion is the perfect thing to do, it kind of tingles with aliveness as I hear it and so it was this morning when I was told about The Pearl and the St. Rose Convent.

The Pearl is a 1930s soda fountain, ice cream, candy and coffee shop on Pearl Street in La Crosse. I wasn’t lucky enough to catch Oscar there, the 90-year old owner/manager, who has now pretty much passed the scoop on to his son, but still comes in most days to help out. 

But, even on a cool, cloudy day there was a steady stream of customers wanting cones, shakes, malts, sodas, sundaes and handmade chocolates.

It’s nearly all made there in the back room and the fresh waffle cones are made right there in the front window. I was still too full of Mickey Mouse to try anything, but watching them dish up flavors like Caramel Cashew, Malted Milk Ball, Snappin’ Turtle and old fashioned ice cream sodas made me promise to try to come back later.

The St. Rose Convent may be a bit harder to describe. About 350 Sisters are part of this spiritual community of the Franciscan Sisters of Perpetual Adoration.  At the beginning of the 19th century a group of 14 Bavarian immigrants arrived in the area. Six women among them had the calling to start a spiritual community and live in the spirit of St. Francis of Assisi helping other German immigrants. That grew to be the Sisters of Perpetual Adoration. Sister Jolyce kindly took me on a tour of the magnificent church constructed between the years of 1901 and 1906.

The Romanesque architecture, the exquisitely detailed stained glass windows from the Royal Bavarian Art Institute of Munich, Germany, the hand-carved wooden pews, the Italian marble altars, the statues, paintings, sculptures, mosaics and details of gold and precious stones were breathtaking.

But, what truly captivated me was this – in the center of the main altar of the spectacular Mary of the Angels Chapel is a small door for the Eucharist that opens to the back side of the altar as well. In back is a smaller chapel, accessed through a separate entrance and known as the Perpetual Adoration Chapel.

Sister Jolyce explained that a 24-hour prayer vigil here has continued uninterrupted for over 100 years. Two “Adorers” who are either two Sisters or a Sister and a lay person are seated in the front row and visitors are welcome to join in the rows behind. Before the hour is up, the next two are seated beside them and when the clock chimes they all rise, say a prayer and change seats. This began on August 1, 1878 in the former, smaller church and they have been praying for us all ever since. Even when a huge fire in the 1930s destroyed the rest of the Convent, the Chapels were unharmed and prayer continued.

As Sister Jolyce waited by the door and I walked quietly around the back of the Chapel, the Power and Divine Presence in that sacred space was nearly overwhelming. As I came out holding my hand to my heart, what I was feeling must have been obvious as Sister Jolyce smiled and said “You are not the first. I have had men walk out with tears streaming from their eyes.”

I thanked her for the tour and asked if I could put my gear in the car and come back to spend some time in the Chapel. I was given a visitor pass and welcomed. I came back, wrapped one of the prayer shawls around me and sat in the back row for an hour and a half. I am not Catholic, but something I know deep in my heart is that God doesn’t care what your version of spirituality is called – there are many ways to know God. So, I sat in deep meditation in this place the Sisters sometimes call “The Power House” and was nurtured, healed, blessed, humbled, filled with gratitude and finally just dissolved into Oneness.  And that is where words cannot go.

I will tell you this – I have felt chilled much of the past 4 days because of this cold I am experiencing and have sniffled, coughed and sneezed continually. I had the thought as I went into the chapel that I hoped I would not disturb the others there. From the moment I entered, I was deeply warmed by loving, nurturing energy and had not a single cough or sniffle the entire time.

Thank you to these women of God for holding us all in Divine Love all these years.

The Franciscan Sisters of Perpetual Adoration live by the words of the prayer of Saint Francis of Assisi. I have always loved this prayer and would like to share it with you here.

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.

Where there is hatred, let me sow love;

Where there is injury, pardon;

Where there is doubt, faith;

Where there is despair, hope;

Where there is darkness, light;

Where there is sadness, joy.

Grant that I may not so much seek

To be consoled as to console;

To be understood as to understand;

To be loved as to love.

For it is in giving that we receive;

It is in pardoning that we are pardoned;

And it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.    

Amen.

Still Flowing

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Hi All –

Sorry for the quiet spell there…we have had 4-5 days of dreary weather – ranging from cold, wet, drizzly to stormy and windy with just a few breaks in between. AND – I’ve caught a doozie of a cold, the details of which I’m sure you have no interest in!  I’m hoping today will be the day that brings a shift from the yuckiness both inside and out! But, our little raindrop pays no mind to such things and just keeps flowing along. There are still interesting people to meet and even in this weather this part of the river and the land that surrounds it is gorgeous. I’ve been exploring the area between Hastings, MN and LaCrescent, MN, hopping back and forth between Minnesota and Wisconsin.  The river flows through a dramatic valley with huge bluffs on either shore and the towns nearly all have well-preserved, historic districts on the riverfront, like this one in Hastings. 

This is not the land of fast food franchises, but cafes with their own bakeries, like the wonderful Bogus Creek Café in Stockholm, WI, and creameries that make their own ice cream. I’ve had Walleye served broiled, baked, fried, on a sandwich – and every time it is fresh and wonderful! It’s apple orchard country here and the apples are just ready to be harvested. And, oh my, nothing feels quite as healthy as biting into a just-picked Honey Crisp apple – I can just tell that is chasing these nasty cold germs away!

Hastings is also the point where the Vermillion River enters the Mississippi and at least this last stretch of it that comes through town is wild and beautiful with rapids and an impressive waterfall.

I’ve been a guest in the gracious home of Joan and Joseph Francois in LaCrescent, MN, for the past two nights. Joseph grew up in Belgium and Joan has been a teacher of French and Spanish. They have traveled much of the world and have a lush botanical garden for a backyard, and it has been a relaxing pleasure to be with them.  The town was buzzing all weekend with the Apple Fest.

The sky lightened up just in time for the Kiddie Parade and the 500 apple pies that Joan helped make at her church were mostly sold before the event even opened! On the midway, the usual array of “fair food” was available – but I will say I passed right on by the Fried Oreos!!!

There’s more to tell from these last few days, but the raindrop is poking me in the you-know-what and it’s time to move on – just  wanted to be in touch before someone sent the Marshalls out looking for me! 

Have a great day!  Gayle

What’s It All About?

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The first 681 miles of the Mississippi have been all within the state of Minnesota. At Prescott, Wisconsin, the Mississippi is joined by the St. Croix River and from this point until deep in Louisiana; the river is always a boundary between two states. If you’d like a good visual of the path of the river (and ours), the Mississippi River Parkway Commission has a map that you can expand and contract here.  

Somewhere between Elk River and Red Wing, where I am this afternoon, the color of the water has changed to the muddier look most of us know well. The barges on the river are much longer and wider and the river seems to have a more serious, hard-working personality. It’s interesting to notice – this journey is 90 days because the National Park Service estimates a single raindrop will travel that long to reach the Gulf from the headwaters. So far, the look and feel of the river at each point seems to correlate with a human lifespan of 90 years. It was a tiny fragile infant at Itasca, then a frisky, romping toddler at Bemidji, an agile 9-year-old at Cass Lake, an adolescent at Elk River and now on day 21, it feels like an adult, getting about the business of life, gathering waters, doing its job.

Perhaps that is contributing to my introspective mood today. Perhaps also three weeks is long enough to find the natural rhythm of living and working on the road and to allow some questions to present themselves. I’ve been asked various versions of, “What led you to do this?” There are easy answers I can give, depending on who is asking, and they are valid answers, but the question has many levels. It’s easy enough to say what it’s not about. It’s not about gathering or accumulating anything – not photos nor stories, experiences nor knowledge. It’s easy enough to say I am working on a book, but it’s not even about that. I may never be able to say in words what it is about.

But since words are the best tools we have, I will try – at least as I see it from this moment, on this picnic bench. It’s about this breeze that is starting to feel a bit chilly, this trinity of seagulls who seem to be playing with the updrafts and downdrafts simply because they can, the sound of a boat passing by, this breath I am taking right now. Too often, we miss the full experience of the present moment by wishing for something different.

Yesterday in St. Paul, I visited the Science Museum of Minnesota  and saw the Dead Sea Scrolls currently on exhibit there.  To actually see the fragments of scriptures written at the time Jesus walked the earth was a stunning experience. The lives of the people who placed those scrolls in pottery jars and hid them in caves 2,000 years ago were very different from our own. And yet, they struggled with the same human foibles that we do. All lives have both pleasure and pain – it’s simply the nature of life. But every moment that we can turn our attention away from past or future and bring it to just right now – that is a moment fully lived and appreciated. So, I’m just here on this picnic bench, watching the river and the gulls – and that’s what it’s about, nothing more.

I ended the day watching dusk envelope the town of Red Wing from a high bluff in Memorial Park.

That was yesterday. I slept deliciously and bounded up this morning well before the sun to explore. As much as I have loved Minnesota, there’s something exciting about having new territory in a new state!

From here on south, the Great River Road is often on both sides of the river, so hop scotching is encouraged! And, remember – if you decide to do any part of the GRR, it’s not about sticking to the route or getting from one point to another.

If a road seems to say, “come here” don’t hesitate. You might find something like this…

or an apple orchard.

The Wisconsin GRR in this region curves through rich farm land, past towering bluffs and through some villages that manage to be completely charming without being the least bit cutesy!

At Bay City, the river naturally widens and becomes Lake Pepin, the largest lake on the Mississippi. The morning meeting of the gulls had convened on the dock at the city park,

but as I approached they decided to move on, and had plenty to say about it as they went.

And so it goes…another day on the Great River Road.                     Gayle

Organic Foods and Plenty of Cold Beer

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I went back to the Guthrie yesterday morning to see it in daylight. Architect Jean Nouvel wanted to create an unique observatory for viewing the Mississippi River, the Stone Arch Bridge and St. Anthony Falls, so he designed the “Endless Bridge”, a 178-foot walkway extending from the side of the building with a plexiglass wall at the end and mirrored surfaces all around. It’s gorgeous and the reflection of the too-perfect-to-be-believed blue sky and puffy clouds gave me some very fun compositions to play with.

Below, I could see hundreds of people at an open-air market, which turned out to be the Mill City Farmers Market, held there each Saturday morning. I was told the market is the brainchild of Brenda Langton, the chef/owner of Spoonriver Restaurant where I had some killer polenta with roasted veggies the night before. The vendors at the Market all offer organic and locally produced foods. I spent enough time shooting photos, chatting and people-watching that I could call it lunchtime and try a sweet potato taco from the Chef Shack – to die for!!  As I sat on the steps having lunch, this little sweetheart smiled up at me from beside her Mom. When I smiled back, she marched right up and sat down beside me and announced that she hadn’t worn her sandals this morning because she wanted to wear her green shoes and she is two years old! (And, just in case I don’t quite get how many two is on one hand, she showed me with both hands!)

By the time I crossed the river, the Blubber Run was just finishing up. It’s a 5K run, walk or get there any way you can. Participants show up in costumes and the rest stops feature cold beer, so you can imagine how much fun was had! I met a couple of friendly pirates who were more than happy to strike a few poses.

The Oktoberfest was well underway with two stages for live music and dancing, funnel cakes, brats and beer everywhere! I was sorry not to catch the Daschund Races and Costume Contest though! After a couple of great conversations with some fellow travelers, I heard the raindrop calling – and it was time to move on!

To be honest, all the activity and the city energy, while fun, had left me a bit drained. So, when I saw my lodging in St. Paul, it seemed just right! The Covington Inn is a 1946 tugboat, retired after 30 years of pushing massive loads on the river to a new career as a B&B. It’s cozy, comfortable and yet authentic, with an awesome view of St. Paul on the opposite shore.  It took just a few minutes of sitting on the upper deck and watching the river to feel its magic smooth the edges and set everything right again. This river moves something deep within me; its silent, mysterious power entrances me. It is a gift to us all and one of our greatest treasures. If we have ears to listen, it is one of our greatest teachers as well.  

Peace,     Gayle

City Stuff

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Some days are so full that when I think back to the morning, it’s hard to convince myself it was just one day!  That’s how it’s been!

I left the quiet, friendly town of Elk River after two easy, delightful days with my new friends Jim and Pat Rossman. They live in a little piece of heaven right on the river– this is their back yard – and they kindly shared it with me!  Jim is a knowledgeable river historian who brings the past to life with his tales. Spending time with new friends who have the Mississippi in their blood feels more like reconnecting with old friends. I’m sure I will see them again! The town of Elk River, like many in this area, celebrates its identity as a river town in a downtown park where people and river come together for picnics and summer concerts.

The river is bigger and stronger now, perhaps 200 yards wide. It’s swift moving, still clean and vibrant. It feels like a teenager, no longer a child, confident and maturing.

Our raindrop has now traveled 432 miles downriver from Itasca and brought us to Minneapolis. It’s my first visit to the city, I expected to like it, and I do! I’m resting my head at Aloft,  a very trendy, modern, and yet comfortable downtown hotel in the heart of the riverfront district. Last night I walked the block to the Guthrie Theater and saw “The Scottsboro Boys” in its pre-Broadway run. It’s the very unfunny story of 9 young black men in Alabama whose lives were destroyed because of a false accusation and conviction, presented by a very talented cast in the comedic style of a minstrel show. The result for me was a confusion of emotions, but admiration for the quality of the production – and the theatre itself is an architectural wonder.

Michael Rainville, who now works for the Minneapolis Convention and Visitors Bureau grew up in this riverfront district when it was “skid row” and filled with deserted buildings. He told me of walking the streets with his French Canadian Grandmother and being accosted by unsavory characters. She would at first smile sweetly and answer politely and ask to be left alone. But, if that didn’t work, she didn’t hesitate to whack them with the 30-lb purse she always carried! Now there are 35,000 people living downtown in lofts, condos and apartments with shops, restaurants, art galleries, theaters and parks.  An amazing transformation! I was told today that Minneapolis was designed so that wherever you live, there is a park within five blocks of your home! It’s a very green city, in appearance and lifestyle and drivers are, as a whole, friendly and patient. It’s the most bicycle-friendly city in the nation, with over 150 miles of trails and bike lanes on most streets. A bike-sharing program was launched recently that allows riders to grab a bike from a kiosk, swipe a card and go! People are nice – in fact they call it “Minnesota Nice” (even the window washers took time to smile down at me).

So far my impression is that it’s a city with all the cultural, arts and entertainment possibilities you could want, without the “big city” edginess and attitude. People I’ve talked with love living here, at least at this time of year. No one has sugar coated what it’s like in the winter, though (just in case you’re thinking of moving here). The most common response is some version of “it sucks!” Descriptors like “long, dark, brutal, horrible” make it clear there have to be plenty of other good reasons to live here.

I didn’t quite make it outside for the sunrise this morning, but I was kindly granted this view from my hotel window. Then, I followed the network of parks along the riverfront to Lock & Dam No. 1 and arrived just in time to see a barge loaded with sand and gravel make its way through the lock. The river elevation drops rapidly here and there were natural waterfalls, so navigation is made possible by 29 of these lock and dam systems between here and St. Louis. By law, every boat from canoe to pleasure craft to enormous barge must be granted access to the river in this way. Basically, a dam creates a drop in the water level, so for a boat to negotiate that drop, it enters a chamber, the gates are closed and the water level in the chamber is dropped (or raised if going upriver). When the water level in the chamber matches the new level of the river, the chamber is opened from the opposite side and off it goes! It all happens in about 30 minutes and I’m told costs less than one dollar per boat because it operates by gravity, not by pumps. 

Later in the day, I rode the Minneapolis Queen paddle wheeler and got to experience “locking through” from the water. The Captain of the Queen told me he still marvels at this engineering technology that has been working the same since the 1930s.

Minnehaha Creek enters the Mississippi near here, but before it does it tumbles 53 feet in a powerful waterfall at Minnehaha Park. I watched it disappear over the rocks from the top and then stood at the base and listened to its roar and felt its spray. It was easy to feel why this land has been sacred to Native Americans for centuries.

The day was capped off by spending 3 hours as a “human on a stick”, on the Segway Magical History Tour.

I’ve wanted to try riding a Segway since the first time I saw one – and they are fun, easy and very intuitive to ride. The guides were great – knowledgeable about their city and fun. In a 5-mile ride, we crossed the river on the landmark Stone Arch Bridge and learned how the Mississippi has shaped this city, first with the logging industry, then milling and now with its system of parks and commercial transportation. It’s a great way to get oriented and way more fun than a bus or trolley tour!

Clearly, it could take weeks to explore what Minneapolis has to offer, but our raindrop is moving on to St. Paul. See you there!  Gayle

Skeeters, Chickens and the Tooth Fairy

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As a group, Minnesotans seem to be an active bunch – hiking, biking, roller blading, running. I’m sure some of it is that they like to feel fit, but I’m also convinced some is that they know that if they stop moving the mosquitoes will eat them alive! Even with bug spray, the little buggers think this photographer who stands still long enough for them to land is one big all-you-can-eat buffet!

This gentleman (who was moving much too fast for the skeeters) was one of 80 or so riders participating in a 3-day “Bike Minnesota Expedition” sponsored by Minnesota Parks & Trails. Each Labor Day weekend they ride around 60 miles per day in a different area of the state and this year it was the Little Falls area.

Little Falls most famous “favorite son” is Charles Lindberg. The Lindberg Historic Site is the home where he spent his boyhood summers, now open for tours and filled with the family’s possessions and memories.

Because it was “Living History Day”, costumed interpreters were on site to interact with visitors. Between tour groups, “Mrs. Lindberg” told me tales of the escapades of the daring young Charles as she prepared an apple pie for the oven. Charles Lindberg led a fascinating life and there is much to understand beyond his famous 1927 trans-Atlantic flight. The Museum next to the home has some wonderful old film footage and artifacts like the 1959 Volkswagen Beetle in which he slept many nights and traveled many thousands of miles.

About 25 miles south of Little Falls is the village of St. Stephen, the first Slovenian settlement in the U.S. The heart of the village is the beautiful Church of St. Stephen, built in 1903 by the ancestors of many of the 850 folks living here today. When I came through on the Sunday afternoon before Labor Day, the church grounds and basement were abuzz with preparations for the annual Parish Festival. Tents were going up, goodies were arriving for the bake sale and cake walk, and 80-bazillion chickens were being fried and at least that many potatoes being peeled. Still, they happily paused to share some of their history and show me their beautiful church. I promised to return the next day for Polka music, raffles, games and, of course, a fried chicken dinner! The parking lot overflowed onto the streets in every direction when I arrived. I bought raffle tickets for some beautiful handmade quilts and assorted other prizes, although I passed on the tickets for two live goats, fearing I might actually win. The air was filled with the oom-pah-pah of the Polka band set up in a semi-trailer with the side removed and an array of foods cooking. I went for the fried chicken dinner and it was fabulous!

I was much too full to sample the Bouja, a Slovenian stew of meat and vegetables, but was told it was delicious. Traditionally, Bouja was a harvest time meal made with rabbit or other wild game, but the Festival version is made with chicken and beef.  At the Slovenian Heritage booth Marge Pryately was quizzing kids on their knowledge of Slovenia. Not many knew the answers, but all won a prize anyway.

There was bingo, dice games, a huge auction of donated items and lots of hugs and smiles as neighbors, friends and relatives greeted each other.

Just a little farther down the road is St. Cloud. I was curious if there had actually been a saint by that name and was told if you had a big enough book of saints you could find him! The crown jewel of St. Cloud is the Munsinger & Clemens Gardens. This beautifully landscaped city park follows the curve of the Mississippi and even at this end of the blooming season, the park was a delight. There are swinging benches to watch the river and the ducks, and paved pathways through the huge old trees and well-tended gardens. As the morning warmed up, runners, walkers and strollers started appearing everywhere.  Sam Huda and his girls, 7-year-old  Amina and 2-year-old Maya,  were out “giving Mom a chance to study”.

Amina was excited about starting 2nd grade and said the Tooth Fairy had left her a total of eight dollars for those missing teeth!

Some stormy weather rolled in for the afternoon, which worked just fine for me. It gave me a chance to finish up my chores. I have now washed the crud from my car, had its oil changed, done my laundry, backed up my images and cleaned every surface of every lens and filter in my bags. We are good to go, little raindrop – lead on!

Day 12 – Little Falls, MN

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My husband and a friend were joking recently that this journey I am on would make a great movie. I realized today that I can’t imagine anyone writing a script as full of crazy, wonderful surprises as this one has already been – and it is just day 12!

As I have said before, this project has a life of its own and I am simply privileged to participate. The Chambers of Commerce and Tourism Bureaus in communities all along the river have been incredibly helpful and supportive of this project. One of the most valuable ways they have participated is by arranging lodging. I’ve made it clear I am open to whatever they work out – my only requests are a clean bed and hopefully internet access. As a result, I am staying in a fascinating assortment of places, ranging from a secluded cabin in the woods, to a trendy downtown loft, a tugboat converted to a B&B, historic inns, Victorian B&Bs, plantation homes, some private homes and modern hotels. It will be a fascinating aspect of this experience I had not even anticipated!

I arrived late yesterday afternoon in Little Falls, Minnesota, which was founded in 1848, making it one of the oldest towns in the state. I had been invited to stay at Linden Hill and had a quick look at it online and saw it was the “Weyerhaeuser and Musser Mansions on the Mississippi River”. It looked lovely, I was appreciative, and simply assumed it was a B&B. There are two enormous mansions side by side on a 9 acre estate overlooking the Mississippi. They were built almost simultaneously by two bachelors who were best friends and business partners in the booming lumber industry in 1898. Later both men married and the two families were very close friends (good thing since they couldn’t really have avoided each other – the houses are not more than 30’ apart!)  In 1920, the Weyerhaeusers decided to follow the lumber business to St. Paul and sold their house to the Mussers for a nickel and a handshake. Both mansions were left to the town of Little Falls by the only surviving heir, Laura Jane Musser. As the docent giving me a tour was filling me in on this fascinating history, it gradually began to dawn on me that this property is not operated as a B&B. It is used for special events like weddings or retreats. The sole staff person stays in the green mansion during the week, but since it was Friday of a holiday weekend she would be leaving as soon as possible.   

They handed me a key to the white mansion and said, “This is your house.” WHAT???  They showed me my bedroom, which had been Laura Jane’s as a child, said I was welcome to cook my meals in the kitchen, showed me pots, pans, dishes, silverware, linen.  SERIOUSLY????  This 30 or so room mansion and I am the only one in it????  Yes, yes, just leave the key in the drop box when you leave on Sunday and enjoy your stay!  If I looked as dumbfounded as I was, I must have been quite a sight!

“Feel free to explore the house”, they said, “there are lots of books to read and be sure to walk down by the river.” Amazing! I have come to expect the unexpected as I travel, but Holy Cow!!!!

They assured me the house isn’t haunted, but the docent kindly gave me her cell number and said she would come stay with me if I felt nervous. I’m not actually afraid of such things, but I have spent a night once before in a house that was known to be haunted and it did make for a very restless night. So, I fixed myself a dinner and served it to myself in the beautiful glassed-in room known as “The River Porch”, which is at this moment serving as my office.  

Although I will admit to leaving a few lights on in the hallway and downstairs, and closing a few doors to some particularly mysterious areas, I was aware of no other presences, spirit or otherwise – and slept very peacefully.

 And now, as dusk is approaching on my second evening here and I am watching the Mississippi roll by just below me, and I have had another full, wonderful day, I am again filled with gratitude. If there is any secret to living life fully, I believe it is to have no demand, no expectation of what any moment should bring us. Instead, if we can live receptively and be open to whatever is happening, knowing there is a Wisdom orchestrating everything far beyond what we can imagine, then the miraculous perfection of each moment is revealed.                              

Peace,    Gayle