Yesterday was the first time in several years I've gotten to make the drive to see the fall colors. I went with Melissa, and we more or less just drove north, it was wonderful day, and one I've been needing for a while. It was as close to an adventure as one might have these days.
Warning, there are a lot of photos in this post...
We started driving up 35W north to where it becomes just 35 and before long I saw the sign indicating Taylors Falls. It's been years since I've been there, and historically it's been a great place to see the beautiful fall colors.
Along the way, we drove past the Fraconia Sculpture Park and decided to stop and take a look around. There's some pretty spectacular pieces there, which you can see more of on their site, or even in person. Melissa and I were carrying 3 cameras, so we were able to get quite a few shots.
A lot of the work didn't really appeal to me as much as others, but that's how it is with art. One that I thought was really interesting was this strange maze made from giant wooden posts and pallet cellophane wrap. What was interesting was that you could almost see an intent that was there that was never quite realized. I wonder if the artist planned to make a full maze and realized that it was be impossible to do with the medium they chose. There was, amongst everything, a series of 'rooms', the doors to which got smaller and smaller, the last of which I couldn't get into, but contained merely 1 giant pillar in the center.
I found that the most interesting thing there was a shack that had been hung from large metal frame with some packing straps and rope. There was just something compelling about it.
There were several other pieces scattered about, but as I said, you'd do well to check out their website, or just take the drive to get a feel for it.
Finally, however, we got back on the road, and we were only a few minutes from Taylors Falls. We started rolling down into the river valley and Melissa was amazed at the view. Apparently she'd never been to Taylors Falls before, and never done the St. Croix for fall colors. So, she started taking shots out of the car window as we rolled down toward the Interstate State Park on the border of Wisconsin. This is one of the greatest places to go for fall colors for a few reasons. First, the scenery is gorgeous year round. On the Minnesota side of the St. Croix is mostly State Park and on the Wisconsin side is mostly Federal Forest land which basically means that there are a lot of trees and it's all protected.
We parked the car up the hill near the Taylors Falls Community Center and walked down to go under the interstate bridge into the State Park. Under the bridge was this interesting graf stencil. It's things like this that always have me curious. What is the meaning behind this? Who left it there?
We walked into the park and along the river and up the cliffs that line it. It was a big more of a climb that either of us were really dressed for, but it was still very much worth it.
One of those rare treats that are so-called because of their rareness occurred when I stumbled upon a pair random yellow snapdragons growing along the cliff side as we made our way up. I was hoping to get a better shot of it, but we were not in the best position to set up a good shot. I snapped what I could and continued up after my lady fair who was setting a pretty good pace in her platform style shoes.
We made our way back down the easy way (along the road) and then back under the bridge and up another hill where we parked. That's we found this sign, and the source of today's blog title. I don't know why I find these so funny, but I just can't read it logically without staring at it for a while.
We got back into the car and started driving north again. This time we just took random roads. I was trying to follow the St. Croix a bit, but whatever county road I ended up heading more west. We didn't really care though. At this point we just drove. We ended up on a dirt road and after a while we stumbled across a barn that had crumbled. From the road you could see the barn next to the silo, but it wasn't until we stopped and went back to take the photos of it that we saw the house set back in the trees.
This is one of those subjects I love shooting, and this was a pretty beautiful specimen. There's something about a place that someone lived in, that people may have grown old in, that families may have gone through live in. Then, for whatever reason they are gone, perhaps even forgotten, perhaps not. I always just wonder at the memories that must be contained in the walls.
After stopping, we drove again. Mostly north, but the roads would end and we'd be forced to take a right or left, so back and forth we went, crossing 35 again and again always following the signs to the next town. The trees lining the road gradually got more and more colorful.
Eventually we found ourselves in Hinckly where I spent some time in my youth. My Great-Great-Aunt Bernice (Maternal Grandmother's Maternal Aunt) lived in a tiny little house just down from Main St. and I felt compelled to drive by, just to see if it was still there. It was, and I was reminded of spending time there so many years ago. Going to the small creek just across the street where there is now a new playground, going to the city fair that was held just down the street. It's strange how little that part of the city has changed given the complete makeover the area just off the highway has received.
After this, neither of us felt all that interested in going home, so we headed up the highway a little further and got off on the next county road and continued to just drive. It was fantastic. The trees got more gorgeous until we couldn't see them in the darkness. It was colder that far north, less humid. And still we drove.
It was now very dark and very foggy. It wasn't the kind of fog that just made everything a little misty, this was a hanging, clinging fog you feel certain you could cut through. It made the few lights we saw cast incredible halos. Eventually we saw a light from overhead that we just had to find. A quick left turn presented us with a very interesting image. It was this military chopper, still adorned with mini-gun and rocket launchers mounted up on a stand. The warning lights spun green and then white over and over and with a long shutter speed, I was able to capture a reasonable idea of the effect. This was, by the way, the Moose Lake Carlton County Airport, though I'm not sure why there was a U.S. Military chopper mounted here, since I always see these as the place where local folk keep their toys. Perhaps, I mis-understand their place in the world.
After taking this shot, which I think made the whole trip worth it on it's own, we continued north. But we didn't go far, it was late and we were both pretty hungry. We'd decided earlier in the day that we wanted to try and find a small hole-in-wall type place to eat at, something other than your regular McDonald's or Perkins joint. Where we ended up at was a small joint called Art's Cafe in Moose Lake, which turned out to be very quaint. The food was alright, although nothing to write home about, the service was reasonable, a bit slow but pleasant at least, but mostly it was the ambiance. A large mural was painted on the wall featuring moose, a lake, a mountain, and one of the most poorly implemented waterfalls I've ever seen.
This, I think, was a great end to an amazing day. From Art's Cafe we found our way back on 35. Had we gone a little further north, only 45 miles, we would have been in Duluth, instead, we went south to make the approximately 115 mile trip home. Melissa fell asleep and we drove home in near silence.
A fantastic day.
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