Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Returning to my Minnesota prairie roots September 12, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 7:58 PM
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THIS AFTERNOON, my husband, son and I returned from a weekend trip to my beloved prairie, southwestern Minnesota. The journey brought stops along the way and back—one which stretched into a 2-hour lunch at The Dam Store, a food/live bait/tackle place just outside Rapidan near Mankato.

This homey joint, which sits next to the Rapidan Dam on the scenic Blue Earth River, advertises the “BEST DAM HAMBURGERS AND PIE BY A DAM SITE.” That’s no lie. But you won’t read about it here. I’m planning a magazine feature story on this kitschy 100-year-old café/store. That explains the lengthy lunch hour (or rather two), of a cheeseburger and fries and dam good homemade chocolate caramel pecan pie, that evolved into interviews and photo-taking.

You'll find great hamburgers and homemade pies at The Dam Store, an unassuming century old eatery.

As we traveled west toward our destination in rural Lamberton in Redwood County, I filled my camera with images from the road, setting a fast shutter speed and zooming down the passenger-side car window or aiming through the windshield whenever a photo op arose.

All along that drive, I gawked at the sky, the wide, wide prairie sky that I can never get enough of no matter how many times I view it.

Likewise, I cannot get enough of this land where I grew up. Here the soil and sky and wind taught me how to see and smell and feel and listen, and because of that, how to write with a detailed, grassroots style.

Returning to southwestern Minnesota renews my gratefulness for roots that reach deep into the earth. Even though I left this land 36 years ago, I remain forever connected to the prairie, “home” in my heart.

Driving U.S. Highway 71 in southwestern Minnesota, you can see a sky and land that stretches beyond forever.

Empty corn cribs on the prairie await another harvest. Or perhaps they are no longer used.

Even a collapsed barn possesses a certain beauty on the prairie. While I saw many barns in disrepair or falling apart, I also saw many that still stand, strong and proud in this wind-swept land.

Sheep and a horse graze in a roadside pasture.

A lone silo leaves me wondering, "What happened to the barn?"

(I shot the landscape photos while we were traveling along U.S. Highway 71 between Minnesota Highway 30 and U.S. Highway 14 in southwestern Minnesota on Saturday.)

UPON OUR RETURN to southeastern Minnesota, I grabbed today’s Faribault Daily News from the mailbox to find my photo, and a feature story about me, splashed across the front page. Several days ago reporter James Warden interviewed me about my blogging.

I’ll be honest and tell you that I’d been dodging the interview with James because I’m a bit uncomfortable in the spotlight. I much prefer the other side of the notebook and camera.

Even though I would have preferred my story tucked discreetly inside the pages of the newspaper, I cannot contain my enthusiasm for James’ reporting and writing. He captured the essence of me and my blogging style by using words and descriptions and details that would be fitting of a Minnesota Prairie Roots blog post.

If you’d like to check out journalist James’ take on me and my blogging, click here.

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Build it and they will ride September 6, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 5:04 PM
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WHEN MY BROTHER-IN-LAW showed off the flatbed trailer he and his family recently built and then suggested we all pile on for a ride down the field driveway, I hesitated. Tom sometimes can be a bit of a daredevil with his toys.

So I passed on the maiden voyage that carried 11 family members along the grassy pathway between soybean fields, up the hill, around and back to the farm site.

Then my 78-year-old mom decided she would ride, up front on the all-terrain vehicle, sandwiched between the driver and my oldest brother, who once gave me a ride on his snowmobile and then left me stranded in a gravel pit.

I figured with Mom on board, the boys would behave, drive responsibly and get us all back safely. So I slung my camera around my neck, pulled myself onto the wagon and sat next to my oldest daughter, legs dangling over the edge.

Off we went, bouncing along the field road under a beautiful blue sky scuttled with white clouds. Honestly, September days in Minnesota don’t get much better than this—sunshine and soybean fields, country air and spacious skies, princess waves and smiles as wide as the horizon, dog hugs and happy kids, laughter and the love of family, my family.

My niece practiced her princess wave as we rode between the soybean fields.

I sat next to my oldest daughter. We were all smiling and laughing.

Two of my siblings sit side by side on the edge of the trailer.

One happy boy (my nephew) and one happy dog.

My Mom sits safely between my brother-in-law and my oldest brother in the all-terrain vehicle.

Feet hung or dangled over the sides of the flatbed trailer as toes nearly touched soybean leaves.

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

The anatomy of an Allis-Chalmers auction on a Minnesota farm August 6, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 8:11 AM
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THEY CAME…

the young

and the older

to Allis-Chalmers collector Carl Krueger’s farm

where he sold his beloved truck

and his cherished Allis-Chalmers tractors

to the highest bidders.

The collectible Allis-Chalmers tractors

even the Wallis

and the Allis-Chalmers tractor manual sold.

But the neighbor’s rare 1964 Schafer failed to get a high enough bid.

Auction attendees fueled up on bars from the Lutherans

clasped steering wheels

at the auction on a Minnesota farm field on an August afternoon.

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

(See my August 2 post for additional photos from Carl Krueger’s Allis-Chalmers auction.)

 

Guys and their tractors, at an Allis-Chalmers auction August 2, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 7:51 AM
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Bidding proceeds on the 50-plus Allis-Chalmers tractors at the auction.

WHEN MY HUSBAND SUGGESTED Saturday morning that we take in a large Allis-Chalmers auction at North Morristown, I balked.

Why would I want to stand in the middle of a field on a hot and humid summer day and watch an auctioneer sell old tractors and other farm equipment?

“It’s blog material,” Randy said.

He got me there and he knew it, so Saturday afternoon I relented and tagged along, camera bag in tow.

Maring Auction Company ran the auction on Carl Krueger's farm.

The auction had already been going 4 ½ hours when we arrived at collector Carl Krueger’s farm next to Trinity Lutheran Church and School, which is North Morristown. Randy parked our car among the rows and rows of pick-up trucks that stretched across the trampled alfalfa field. Up and over, on the other side of the hill, people swarmed like ants around the auctioneer’s truck and around the orange tractors and other farm equipment spread out in orderly rows.

This steel wheeled tractor immediately grabbed my attention upon arrival at the auction

A close-up of that steel wheeled tractor in a long line of tractors.

Immediately, I saw the potential and soon parted ways with Randy, who was primarily interested in the tractors while I was primarily interested in the crowd. I had already spotted several photogenic characters. Not that I ignored the pumpkin orange tractors; they, too, offered ample photo ops.

But the bidders, the curious, intrigued me the most, mostly because many sported bright orange attire. If I had been on a highway, I would have thought we were in a construction zone.

I quickly determined that these Allis-Chalmers folks are pretty devoted to their brand. Otherwise, why would you willingly choose to dress like this? I’m no fashionista, but even I would need to think twice before donning bib overalls, a bright orange shirt and an equally bright cap. I saw plenty of all three at the auction.

The dress code of the day: Allis-Chalmers orange.

"The Allis-Chalmers Kid," Carl Krueger, left, watched as his tractors were sold at Saturday's auction.

Clearly, these folks love and respect old tractors, and I appreciate that. As I watched, men (the crowd was overwhelmingly male) settled onto the seats of Allis tractors, clasped their hands upon the steering wheels and drove away in their imaginations. Palms caressed tractor metal. Butts connected with tractor tires, offering a temporary resting place in the heat of the afternoon.

Three men rest on three tires on three Allis-Chalmers around 3 o'clock.

Many a potential buyer, or simply an Allis-Chalmers devotee, settled onto a tractor seat.

Leaning on, touching, climbing--all were important in evaluating Allis-Chalmers tractors at the auction.

Randy was right. I had found sufficient blog material here on this hillside farm field on an August afternoon. But after 1 ½ hours of pursuing photos, I needed a break.

“Is my face all red?” I asked, knowing the answer before the words even tipped my tongue. When I get overheated, my face turns beet red. I sought out the shade of a pole shed, where volunteers from Trinity school were selling beverages, sandwiches, bars and other food. I dipped my hand into a beverage-cooling cattle tank and swiped refreshing water across my flushed skin. Since I didn’t have any money with me for bottled water or pop, I was tempted to slurp a handful of water too. But I figured that wouldn’t be appropriate although no one probably would have cared. I talked to a few people, snapped several images and aimed back toward the field to find my misplaced husband. He was still ogling the tractors.

A long orange line of Allis-Chalmers tractors awaited bidders.

“My dad had one like that,” he said, pointing to the 1950s Allis Chalmers WD, just one in the long orange line. Oops, that’s John Deere’s tag—the line, the long green line. I met a guy who dared to wear his John Deere t-shirt here in this oasis of orange. His girlfriend has an Allis-Chalmers, he explained, as if justifying his attire, even his presence.

I wanted to tell him: “I don’t think it really matters. I’m here. I’m not wearing orange and, uh, we don’t own a pick-up truck.”

Pick-up trucks lined the alfalfa field at the auction site.

WATCH FOR ADDITIONAL auction photos later this week on Minnesota Prairie Roots.

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling