Archives for August 2019

I was talking to a wise man recently about a controversial issue that he had been adamantly opposed to for most of his life. He told me about a number of personal experiences as well as those by people close to him that informed that issue. And then he said, “It has re-opened the question for me.” His simple, calm, and humble statement was like a wave of cool, fresh water on the hot division of our country.

When people in Minnesota talk about ‘up north,’ it can mean anywhere from Alexandria to Brainerd to Bemidji to the North Shore or to Ely and the BWCA. Even the ‘North Shore’ stretches from Duluth to Grand Portage, 145 miles along Lake Superior. Up north can be about deer hunting, skiing, weekends on the lake, hiking the Superior trail, or canoeing in the Boundary Waters. Our trip up north began with Duluth, the shipping port city on the magnificent Lake Superior. We stayed in an Airbnb high on the bluff overlooking the Big Water. In the early morning light and mist, the water, cloud bank, and sky melded together into a monochromatic panorama of simplicity.

We drank in some Nature while in Duluth—literally! We stopped at Vikre Distillery, makers of gin, vodka, whiskey, and aquavit—a Scandinavian distilled spirit. They use local grains, herbs, rhubarb, and wild botanicals including juniper berries, spruce buds, and staghorn sumac—all distilled with the clear, cold water of Lake Superior.

We also visited two Duluth breweries—Bent Paddle and Ursa Minor, both unique experiences made better with the knowledge and energy of the four young people with us who know a thing or two about visiting breweries.

We enjoyed a mouth-watering BBQ meal delivered by a friendly staff person from OMC Smokehouse, located a block away from Bent Paddle. A Celtic band played in a corner of the taproom as we sat on the patio across from them. A trip to the restroom was like trekking through the North Woods—mosaic tile waterfalls tumbled from the bar, a dark hallway ceiling was lit up with tiny lights in constellations from the night sky, and the wallpaper in the women’s restroom featured friendly woodland creatures. Look at those faces!

Ursa Minor is the ‘Little Bear’ constellation in the Northern sky that contains the Little Dipper. The bright star at the end of the handle of the dipper is Polaris—the North Star! We enjoyed wood-fired pizzas made from ingredients that were snipped from the raised-bed garden around the patio. Now, I know I said nothing about the beer, although I do appreciate Ursa Minor’s marketing of ‘comfort beer!’ Beer is something I have never liked or drank—until my adult children and the craft beer industry united with a “taste this one.” Most still made me shudder, until I tried a really dark Oatmeal Stout. My comments included ‘that’s not too bad’ and ‘there’s a lot going on there!’ So I have now claimed the darkest beer (without coffee, that is—another common drink that kind of makes me shudder) as my favorite, and that just makes me laugh!

The destination of our short Duluth stay was up the shore of Lake Superior, past Two Harbors and Split Rock Lighthouse to Black Beach. A protected cove surrounded by rock cliffs and North Shore trees has an amazing beach of tiny black pebbles. It is visually stunning, especially since the cliffs are red rocks. How did this happen? There is a mixture of larger red and black rocks in the clear water, but the beach is mostly black. This area used to be privately owned and was a dumping place decades ago for the tailings or waste rock of taconite mining. Taconite is an iron-bearing sedimentary rock that is crushed and ground to get the iron out of it. The iron powder is then rolled with clay into pellets, dried, and baked. The pellets are loaded into huge ore ships that travel the Great Lakes to steel-making towns. During those years, local fishermen complained about the poor water quality because of the mining waste, and they wanted the dumping stopped. A long ‘fight’ ensued between miners and fishermen and their supporters. Eventually the fishermen won, and the dumping stopped around 1980. So the black beach is man-made, the remains of iron ore mining, the previous dumping grounds of waste now made beautiful by decades of wind, water, and ice.

The water was e-x-t-r-e-m-e-l-y cold! Two of us just dipped a foot or a hand in to feel it for ourselves. One walked in for a picture. Two stood knee deep longer than I thought possible, and one brave adventurer plunged his whole body into the frigid Wim Hof experiment. Luckily the sun-warmed black pebbles helped everyone warm up again.

‘Up North’ encompasses a huge territory of lakes, forests, towns, and wild places here in Minnesota. It means different things to different people—the experiences are unique and meaningful to each individual, all while within the comforting clause. Each person defines and holds dear their own ‘up north.’ Lake Superior is the anchor, the expanse, the shining beacon of the North Shore—it is our ‘ocean’ of water. It makes up the body of the spirits and beer we tasted. It epitomizes the power of Nature. Who was the ‘correct’ group when it came to the waters of the Great Lake—the fishermen or the miners? Ideals and lifestyles have been the clashing grounds for eons. So what changes us? My wise friend recounted his personal experiences and those of people he cared deeply for and asked the question, “How do these experiences mesh with my admittedly rigid view of the issue?” It re-opened the question. Is cold water therapy a thing? Dive in and re-open the question. How can anyone drink beer? ‘Try this one’ and re-open the question. Just like the black beach, we can be changed and restored. It’s not about the answer per se; it’s about the question. It’s not about other people; it’s about ourselves. It’s not about correctness; it’s about possibilities. Perhaps the next time we meet on the North Shore I will be drinking coffee—who knows?!