by John Shearer
posted June 29, 2008
) Photo by John Shearer Cabin on the lake in Minnesota |
While I am a Tennessee homebody who quickly starts missing local accents and unsophisticated regional cuisine, I did find the Gopher State intriguing.
While there, we stayed in a very interesting place, a large and historic log cabin at the Breezy Point Resort on Pelican Lake. The whole complex once had a historic hotel and hosted such celebrities as Clark Gable, but the log cabin today is one of the few tangible reminders that the facility is more than 20 years old.
Although the newer construction blocked the view of the lake, the cottage itself was still interesting to see. So was the nicely manicured grass around it.
In fact, the home and lot reminded me very much of the setting in the Summertown section of Signal Mountain.
From other parts of the resort, we were still able to enjoy the lake. For example, we had a delightful hour canoe ride on it. We paddled near an undeveloped small peninsula, and the scene was quite pretty.
I was actually tempted to dock the canoe and get out, but then I began wondering if Minnesota had snakes. Since Henry David Thoreau had mentioned seeing them in Massachusetts, I figured they could live this far north as well.
As a result, I opted to enjoy the unspoiled setting with my eyes instead of my feet.
We also stood on a dock one night and someone pointed out a loon bathing and perhaps enjoying a little fish dinner for supper. The loon is the state bird – not the mosquito, as some like to joke – and it looks very much like a duck or goose.
Minnesota, of course, is the land of 10,000 lakes, and we were in the heart of the lakes region.
Except for a few smaller ones, almost all the lakes we saw had homes surrounding them, which surprised me a little. Because of the limited warm season, Minnesotans seem to enjoy the summer as much as possible.
And they embrace lakes as much as East Tennesseans do mountains.
Of course, when winter arrives – and blizzards, not gentle low-humidity winds are blowing – the water is more foe than friend.
The closest city to where we were staying had a very familiar name – Brainerd. I did a double take every time I saw or heard the name Brainerd.
The area where we were is close to a three-hour drive from the airport in Minneapolis-St. Paul, or the Twin Cities as most locals seemed to refer to the towns.
Driving to and from the airport, we saw many interesting sites – the Mall of America (where the Minnesota Vikings’ old outdoor football stadium once sat), fields of flat farmland, a few grain elevators alongside railroad tracks in the small towns, and numerous Dairy Queens.
I stopped at the latter to say I had enjoyed a “Blizzard” in Minnesota.
I also saw a couple of sites that surprised me. One was a vintage-looking Sinclair gas station that was still operating. I believe Sinclair left the Chattanooga area in the early 1970s, when its name in Tennessee was changed to the less-romantic-sounding ARCO.
I also saw a beginning stretch of the Mississippi River, but this section is only about twice the width of Chickamauga Creek.
While flying from St. Louis to Minneapolis-St. Paul and back, we did see how mighty the Mississippi becomes downstream, particularly in recent days with all the flooding.
The trees also seemed different. We saw plenty of birches, cottonwoods and mulberries, but I do not think I saw a single tulip poplar, the state tree of Tennessee. Many of the pine trees were dying, and I am not sure if the reason is the pine bark beetle.
I also played golf on two courses at the Breezy Point Resort. One was a more recently constructed resort style course offering the generic look and challenges found on countless other courses throughout the United States.
The other one was a shorter course built in the old days and uniquely offering tiny greens and native Minnesota grass different from what I would find in Tennessee.
As a result, I enjoyed the latter course more, even though it was not as challenging as the other one. I simply admired how it gave me a unique taste of Minnesota.
We also visited a couple of nearby small towns and sampled the local flavor. One Nisswa, has turtle races for the children every Wednesday during the summer, and I happened to be there on a Wednesday.
Youngsters let the turtles start from a circle, and the first turtle that reaches the line of an outer ring wins. To get the turtles moving, the youngsters pour water on them from behind.
I asked one person why that town has turtle races, and he replied, “for the tourists.”
Nisswa had a number of interesting little shops, similar to those found in Gatlinburg. In one, the proprietor was a master salesman in a low-key rural Minnesotan way. Before we even had time to say no, Laura and I were walking out of his store with a special baking pan and recipe for making Scandinavian almond cake.
In another town, Pequot Lakes, we found a women’s dress shop, Leslie’s, where people actually wait on you and do not just man the cash register.
We happened to be there on our last day before coming home, and I asked one of the women where the locals liked to eat.
I had enjoyed some good fried walleye at a place called Antler’s and a delicious bowl of split pea soup and an egg salad sandwich at a local coffee shop in Nisswa, but I had also experienced some disappointing meals. As a result, I was hoping our last meal would be good.
We were planning on going to one that bragged about itself in an advertising supplement and featured a beautiful picture of prime rib and chef-prepared asparagus spears sitting on a plate with a nice tablecloth underneath it.
However, the woman had mentioned another place called Norway Ridge.
We saw the sign for Norway Ridge but decided to first look at our original choice. When we pulled up, it looked like the typical log-cabin-style bar and grill restaurants we found everywhere in that part of Minnesota. A sign was hanging outside about an all-you-can-eat buffet, so we quickly deduced the tablecloths were likely used more as bibs.
So, we headed on to Norway Ridge, hoping it would be better.
On the way, we passed a turtle trying to cross the road. We turned around to help it before a car ran over it, but when we returned, someone else had kindly beaten us to the rescue.
As soon as we pulled into the parking lot of the post-World War II building with its quaint and attractive knotty pine paneled rooms, we knew we had come to the right place.
It was unique, was not overly pricey and had superior food. It reminded me of the qualities I have found in my favorite Chattanooga restaurants, such as Mom’s Italian Villa, the old Fehn’s on the river, and Rembrandt’s and Tony’s Pasta in the Bluff View Art District.
There we sat for an hour or two, enjoying a delicious meal and an equally enjoyable setting amid the rural Minnesota woods and lakes.
Jcshearer2@comcast.net
) Photo by John Shearer |
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