Isaac on the beach at Horseshoe Lake, rural Merrifield, Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2025)
SOMETIMES A PHOTO isn’t perfect. And this one certainly isn’t, at least not technically. The image of my 6-year-old grandson is not sharp. And that’s because I was sitting a beach away, zooming in with my cellphone camera.
My 35 mm Canon was inside the cabin. I knew I would either have to shoot with my phone or miss the moment. I opted to click the white circle on my Android.
Why do I love this photo, despite its technical flaws? I love the moment in time I’ve captured of my young grandson. Isaac was busy digging in the sand at lake’s edge when he paused. I don’t recall the reason he stopped shoveling. And that in itself holds appeal as those who view the image can imagine what Isaac is seeing to his left.
I remember the set up of this scene, though. Randy and I were on lakeside grandparent watch while Isaac’s parents headed into Nisswa for coffee. We were all vacationing together at a family member’s Horseshoe Lake cabin in north central Minnesota. Isaac’s older sister was inside the cabin reading.
The day was cold with a strong wind churning the water. Not a day for swimming or for sunbathing. But, for Isaac, it was still a good day for digging in the sand. He kept venturing closer and closer to the lake, water lapping at his pant legs. I asked Randy to roll up Isaac’s pants.
There’s something about a boy by the water, pants legs rolled up, shovel in hand that speaks to carefree days of summer, to youthfulness and to simple child’s play in the great outdoors. I love seeing kids playing outside, away from video games and electronics. I’m all for handing a child a stick (or a shovel) to encourage creative play.
I love this photo also because it tells a story in a simple and uncomplicated scene of water, sand, shovel and boy. Photography, for me, is often about storytelling.
I like the composition of this photo, too, with Isaac off-center, the sand pile on the right side of the frame. And then the wavy lake seemingly takes on a personality of its own like a threatening intruder. But Isaac didn’t let the moody lake, the cold day or the strong wind deter him from his work.
As with any photo, lighting ranks high. I like the lighting in this image. I like the simplicity of the photo.
Even though not technically perfect, this photo holds what’s most important to me—love. Do you see it?
An angler fishes in Horseshoe Lake, rural Merrifield, on an August evening. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2025)
IN MID AUGUST, Randy and I headed nearly 200 miles north of Faribault for our second stay of the summer at a family member’s cabin in the Brainerd lakes area. This trip our eldest daughter and her family joined us for several days. There’s nothing quite like time with the grandkids at the lake. Time to play, to relax, to make memories. And that we did. I cherish our days together Up North.
We mostly hung out on the beach or in the cabin. Weather conditions were not ideal with cool temps and strong winds prevailing when all six of us were there together. Yet, we got outdoors—the kids running along the sandy beach, digging a hole along water’s edge, enjoying the placid water on a warm and sunny day before the weather changed.
Looking upward toward the pines from a lakeside hammock. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2025)
MAKING MEMORIES
I led the 6 and 9-year-olds on a scavenger hunt. We searched for a feather, a mushroom, a nest…that which nature offers like a gift if only we pause to see and appreciate. Randy taught Isaac to play Marbles on a homemade wooden board. It’s a long-time favorite of the extended Helbling family. We played Yahtzee and Connect 4, on an over-sized outdoor board. The puzzlers among us (not me) pieced together a lemonade stand. We headed into town for massive scoops of ice cream, a cabin tradition. And one day we picked peas from our sister-in-law and brother-in-law’s plot in a community garden. Later I taught Isaac how to shell them. The kids delighted in a timed Ninja course at a Crosslake playground and posed for photos behind Paul Bunyan family cut-outs at another park. We devoured s’mores around the campfire.
A campfire is the place to share stories, create memories. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2025)
This is the stuff of memories. Simple. Uncomplicated. Mostly unplanned. Moments that connect us, deepen bonds.
Moody clouds at sunset over Horseshoe Lake. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2025)
Being outdoors, away from home and work and schedules and the demands of everyday life, opens us to the joys of vacationing. The haunting call of a loon and the sighting of a bald eagle perched atop a pine proved exhilarating. A bank of moody, pink-tinged clouds slung low in the evening sky drew all of us to focus on and admire the scene.
A mural in Crosby. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2025)
MORE CHERISHED MOMENTS
When the grandkids and their parents left several days before us, our world seemed too quiet. No more kids scampering up and down the loft ladder. No more requests to go to the beach. No more…
But, sans kids, there were still moments to be cherished. Lakeside dining with friends at Breezy Point. Popping in to chat with a Faribault friend who lives in Nisswa now and works for the Chamber of Commerce. And then a chance encounter with adults with disabilities on an outing at Mission Park, rural Merrifield. I learned that visually-impaired Shannon, who uses a white cane and carries over-sized yellow sunglasses, likes to sing. I asked her to sing for me. And she did—to a movie soundtrack of ”My Heart Will Go On” by Celine Deon. I thought my heart would burst with joy as this young woman first mouthed the words, then sang them quietly and then louder as I encouraged her. It’s one of those moments I will forever treasure. Me nearly in tears and everyone inside that picnic shelter smiling during this impromptu weekday morning concert.
A mural by Adam Turman in downtown Crosby highlights recreational activities in the Cuyuna Lakes area. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2025)
SOUTHERN MINNESOTA CONNECTIONS ON THE RANGE
On the way home, there were more delights during a stop in Crosby, an Iron Range community that is evolving into a destination with its many outdoor activities, shops and murals. I spotted a mural by Minneapolis artist Adam Turman, whose work can be found on murals in Northfield and on Faribault Mill products. He’s a favorite muralist of mine. I saw also, much to my delight, Faribault Mill blankets and Caves of Faribault cheeses in separate shops. I felt Faribault-proud seeing those wool blankets and exceptional cheeses for sale in Crosby.
ICE CREAM, GREEK STYLE
But it was the homemade ice cream—Rave Creamworks’ Super Premium—at Victual in Crosby that got rave reviews from me. Randy and I shared a large scoop of Baklava ice cream laced with flaky phyllo dough, chopped walnuts and honey. It is the shop’s bestseller among 24 choices, so said the teen behind the counter. I loved this creamy ice cream, which I expect my friend, Father Jim Zotalis at the Cathedral of Our Merciful Saviour in Faribault, would appreciate given his Greek heritage. Baklava is a Greek pastry. Even in that ice cream I felt a connection to southern Minnesota. We can leave home, but we never really do.
The bald eagle I saw nearby within hours of arriving at a central Minnesota lake cabin. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2025)
LAST SUMMER, LOON sightings proved common at a family member’s lake cabin south of Crosslake in north central Minnesota. This summer, not so much. While Randy and I heard the haunting call of loons during a recent stay, we only saw them twice—once a threesome swimming near shore and then two flying westward before a thunderstorm rolled in.
But bald eagle sightings more than made up for the absence of loons. We’d been at the cabin only hours when one swooped onto the top of a towering pine near the patio where we were enjoying late afternoon drinks with my sister-in-law. Randy pulled out his cellphone to snap a few photos. I stayed put since my 35 mm camera was back at the cabin. I reasoned that, by the time I walked to the cabin and back, the eagle would have flown away. That’s my usual luck.
And so we continued to chat and catch up on family news, the eagle all the while perched atop the tree like some silent eavesdropper. Finally I couldn’t stand it any longer. I headed to the cabin for my Canon, cautiously optimistic that the eagle would still be in the tree upon my return. It was.
Wings spread wide, the bald eagle lifts off from the treetop. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2025)
I moved slowly away from the patio, pine tree and eagle in view, aimed my telephoto lens skyward and snapped a single frame before the eagle lifted off. I can only surmise that my camera lens appeared threatening to the observant bird with exceptional vision. An eagle can see an animal the size of a rabbit running from three miles away, according to the Wabasha-based National Eagle Center.
Nine minutes later, that same eagle was back, but in a different pine near the lake and on the other side of the patio. Once again, I managed one photo before the majestic bird took flight.
Two symbols of America: the flag and a bald eagle. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2025)
I never tire of seeing eagles, whether flying or statue still. They are truly majestic. Regal. Commanding respect. And they are our national bird, a designation officially signed into law on December 23, 2024.
Throughout our week-long cabin stay, I observed bald eagles flying above Horseshoe Lake multiple times. Sometimes high above the water. Other times descending toward the surface, fishing for fish. I hoped I would see a fish grasped in eagle talons. I didn’t. Nor did I see the eagles any closer than that first afternoon at the lake.
On the drive back to Faribault, Randy and I spotted many eagles soaring above the land, especially around Mille Lacs Lake. I couldn’t help but think of the eagle’s spiritual and cultural importance among Native Americans. Strength. Courage. Wisdom. All are equated with eagles.
A bald eagle flies over Horseshoe Lake in the Brainerd lakes area. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2025)
This wondrous national bird is so common now that I’m no longer surprised when I see one flying in and around Faribault or elsewhere in Rice County or in Minnesota. Yet, despite frequent sightings, I never tire of seeing a bald eagle. There’s something about this bird with an average wingspan of 6-7 ½ feet, piercing eyes and curved beak that makes me pause, take notice and appreciate their fierce, unyielding strength and beauty.
The National Eagle Center in Wabasha. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2014)
I expect this designation will draw more visitors to Wabasha. I last visited the Eagle Center in 2014 and need to return as it was recently expanded and updated, building on an already impressive place to learn about eagles.
Up close with an eagle at the National Eagle Center along the Mississippi River in Wabasha. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2014)
Wabasha’s National Eagle Center not only houses rehabilitated resident eagles (used in programming), but also features eagles in art, history and more. I’m all about learning more about a bird which I never tire of seeing. There’s something about an eagle soaring that imprints upon me a sense of awe.
The Bicentennial Eagle by A. Giannelli inside the National Eagle Center. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2014)
On Christmas Day, as Randy and I sat home alone eating French toast (instead of a ham dinner due to illness in the family), I looked out the dining room window to see a large bird flying directly toward our house. Even as high as the bird flew, I recognized it as an eagle. Soon I spotted a second trailing eagle.
Just south of Union Lake Trail along Rice County Road 46, a bald eagle watches me. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2018)
This isn’t the first time I’ve seen bald eagles simply by looking out windows in my south Faribault home. I’ve watched an eagle glide low past our picture window. I’ve seen one a block away flying at treetop level. Several blocks up the hill, an eagle flew above Fourth Avenue Southwest. I’ve observed an eagle following the course of the Straight River while dining at The Depot Bar & Grill. On Faribault’s north side, I’ve spotted eagles flying near the Cannon and Straight Rivers. On the way to Dundas, eagles perch in a nest visible from Minnesota State Highway 3.
Eagles perch in a tree near Waseca. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2012)
I’ve seen eagles in other areas of Rice County and in Waseca County. They are seemingly everywhere throughout Minnesota.
Glimpse of a bald eagle in a lakeside treetop south of Crosslake in central Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
To the north in the Brainerd lakes area of Central Minnesota, eagles once nested in a tree at a family member’s lake cabin. The nest fell in a storm, but the eagles relocated along Horseshoe Lake. So there’s still plenty of eagle watching at the cabin.
Eagles suspended from the ceiling and a view of the Mississippi River from the second floor of the National Eagle Center. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2014)
We once nearly hit a bald eagle south of Hackensack as it lifted off the shoulder just as our van passed. Let me tell you that seeing the massive wing span (from 5 to 8 feet) of an adult eagle passing across your windshield is not only startling, but scary. Fortunately, the eagle cleared the windshield. Near Kenyon another grazing-on-roadkill eagle took flight within seconds of our van striking it. Aside from those close encounters, eagle watching has proven pleasant.
My photo of an eagle and dove at the Rice County Veterans Memorial now hangs in the Minnesota Veterans Home, Bemidji. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
The bald eagle at the vets park in Morristown flanked by flags. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
The bald eagle symbolizes freedom and strength. Now to have this majestic bird as our national bird seems fitting. And long overdue. The bald eagle is a powerful symbol connected to democracy. To see an eagle soar is to see freedom soaring.
The Horseshoe Lake cabin where we stay once or twice yearly. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
CLOSING UP THE CABIN (not ours) proved more than a work weekend. Beyond pulling in the dock, mowing, raking, trimming trees, gathering sticks, cleaning rain gutters, scrubbing rust stains from the shower, draining the water heater and more, this was about family.
September sunrise on Horseshoe Lake. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
A spirit of teamwork, of gratitude, of enjoying this place along Horseshoe Lake in Mission Township in the Brainerd lakes area, prevailed. And it was all because of family. I love the Helbling family, which I’ve been part of for 42 years by way of marrying into it.
Gnomes were recently hidden in Mission Park, which is located several miles from the cabin. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
Randy and I joined three of his sisters, their husbands, and a niece and her family last weekend on this property his youngest sister and husband so graciously share. What a gift this has been to us. I love spending time in the quiet northwoods, immersed in nature, creating memories not only with Randy, but also with our eldest daughter, her husband and our two grandchildren. Campfires with s’mores, always s’mores. Walks in Mission Park. Lakeside dining. Fishing and swimming. Ice cream from Lake Country Crafts & Cones. Pizza from Rafferty’s. Great beer and conversation at 14 Lakes Craft Brewing. Day trips into nearby small towns. Lounging on the beach reading a book. Lying in the hammock. Watching loons and eagles. Doing nothing.
This visit we stayed in the main house, a section of which is shown here. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
And now, on this first weekend in October, we trekked three hours north to the cabin for the sole purpose of preparing the property for winter. An added bonus came in time with family. We worked together. Ate together. Laughed. Shared stories and memories and updates. We also built memories.
On a September cabin stay, three deer crossed the driveway. And we discovered bear scat, as did Randy this visit. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
Homemade caramel rolls baked by Vivian reminded us of Mom Helbling, who died unexpectedly 31 years ago at the age of 59. Much too soon. Jon’s smash burgers reminded me of my mom, prompting me to share a story about the hamburgers she fried to hockey puck doneness, the reason I didn’t eat burgers up until several years ago. Jon’s were nothing like hers. He’s quite the cook, I discovered, as I enjoyed his stir fry, his scrambled eggs, his smash burgers.
September moonrise over Horseshoe Lake. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
I also enjoyed getting to know four of my great nieces and nephews. We played Hi Ho Cherry-O!, Go Fish and some panda bear game I never fully understood despite 8-year-old Emmett’s patience in explaining it to me. Autumn insisted I work on a princess puzzle with her, even though I insisted I do not do puzzles. I should note here that the Helbling family loves puzzles. Autumn insisted I help her, also insisting that I not quit. The first grader has a strong personality, a strength as I see it.
Squirrels were busy, too, as winter approaches. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
Three-year-old Quentin checked my heart several times as he did most family members after finding a stethoscope among the dress-up clothes. I also formed a firefighting crew, enlisting Emmett as acting fire chief when I had to step away to do some actual work. And sweet little redhead Annika, almost one and who looks a lot like a Who from Whoville, pretty much had her great aunt doing whatever she wished. That included jumping on my lap. My arms got quite the work-out.
Acorns, leaves and pine needles continued to fall as our crew headed home. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
And so these are the memories I gathered on this work weekend while squirrels scampered, acorns pelted roofs, the night wind howled, dust swirled, and pine needles and branches fell. Up north at the cabin is as much about place as it is about family and the memories we make there.
Relaxing on the end of the dock as the sun sets at Horseshoe Lake. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2024)
LAKE, SKY, TOWERING PINES, CABIN. Those define summer Up North for many Minnesotans. Not until recent years did I, too, become one of those heading north to the cabin for a week. That’s thanks to a brother-in-law and sister-in-law who generously share their Northwoods paradise with extended family.
I aimed my camera straight up toward the tops of towering pines. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2024)
Randy and I love spending time with our eldest daughter, son-in-law and two grandchildren at the cabin on Horseshoe Lake south of Crosslake. We are bonding, building memories and connecting with nature in a way that differs from southern Minnesota.
Treelines open to the beach along Horseshoe Lake as the sun sets, the moon rises. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2024)
The Brainerd Lakes Area has a decidedly different look and feel than the lower half of our state. Dense woods, primarily pine, hug roads and homes, opening to beautiful, pristine lakes.
As day shifts toward night, pontoons motor around Horseshoe Lake. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2024)
There are plenty of jet skis, too, speeding across the lake. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2024)
A loon family glides across the lake at sunset. We saw and heard the loons often, but none swam near enough for close-up photos. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2024)
Up here it’s all about fishing, campfires, watching the sun set or rise, lying in a hammock, drinking coffee lakeside, grilling, eating meals outdoors, observing the loons, reading on the beach, dipping your feet in the water, kayaking, paddle-boarding, boating…
A gull wings across the wide sky on a perfect July afternoon. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2024)
In essence, vacationing Up North means forgetting about the stresses, pressures, deadlines and routines of daily life. It means leisurely mornings, relaxing lakeside, days without time.
I had the best pulled pork sandwich here when Randy and I lunched with friends Sue and Charley at the Damsite Supper Club. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2024)
A mural in Ironton promotes cycling in the region. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2024)
Randy photographed me with my new friend outside Nord Hus Scandinavian Goods in Crosby. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2024 by Randy Helbling)
This stay we also drove to nearby Crosby and Ironton, towns nestled next to each other and deeply rooted in Iron Range history. We’ve only just begun to explore those communities, which are remaking and branding themselves as the Cuyuna Lakes region, drawing mountain bikers to an extensive recreational trail system, vacationers to local eateries and shops. MacDaddy’s Donut Garage in Ironton is on my list of bakeries to visit.
The Blueberry Special at Valeri Ann’s. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2024)
Valeri Ann’s Family Foods in Merrifield, a short drive from the cabin, has become our source for decadent caramel rolls, one big enough for two to share and tasting almost as good as the ones my mother-in-law made. This time we also tried the breakfast specials, one featuring a dinner-plate-size blueberry pancake, the other with wild rice and more incorporated into scrambled eggs. Wild rice is another Northwoods signature food, grown and harvested in the region and parts farther north.
I love how the water ripples, like a work of art, as a boat crosses Horseshoe Lake at sunset. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2024)
As I’ve explored and vacationed in the Northwoods, I’ve grown a deeper appreciation for Minnesota and its diversity of geography, topography and lifestyle. There’s so much to love about this state, from north to south, east to west. Ah, summertime…and going Up North to the cabin.
THE IMPORTANCE OF CONNECTING annually as an extended family remains a high priority for the descendants of Tom and Betty Helbling. This past weekend 52 of us from four states gathered at a central Minnesota lake home. We laughed. We talked. We shared memories and made new ones. We played. We ate together under two screened tents, some people spilling to tables outside. And it was wonderful. Absolutely wonderful.
I was determined, even with my ongoing health challenges, to make the 3.5-hour trip so I could be with Randy’s family—the sisters, the brothers-in-law, nieces, nephews, great nieces and nephews. Some were missing, like the brothers from Michigan, North Dakota and Missouri and their spouses, a niece and nephews, and two of my adult children living in southeastern Wisconsin and Boston. It’s a given that not everyone can make it every year to the mid-August gathering.
It takes a lot of inflatables and other water toys for all the kids at the Helbling family reunion. The loon floatie, purchased as part of a fundraiser for the soon-to-be National Loon Center in Crosslake, was a big hit. The loon is Minnesota’s state bird. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2023)
BEYOND CONVERSATIONS
But for those of us who can attend, it’s always a good time. We do more than simply visit, although that’s certainly important. We also engage in activities that get us up and moving and interacting. There’s the annual corn hole tournament and BINGO for all ages. Even the adults participate, coveting jars of homemade salsa, jams, jellies and honey from the farm. Randy brought home his sister Cheryl’s cherry jelly. Kids delight in winning sidewalk chalk, markers, craft kits and more. No kid leaves without a prize. Most adults don’t either.
The younger kids, nearly 20 strong, packed so much into the reunion days. Swimming. Playing on the beach. Fishing from the dock. Riding bikes around the circle drive. Five-year-old cousins Autumn and Amaris even performed on a pedal-less tricycle of sorts, attempting three spins before a wildly cheering audience.
Horseshoe Lake, beach and dock, pre-reunion. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo July 2023)
WATER-BASED FUN
Boat rides given by my niece Lindsey’s husband, Brent, proved wildly popular with the kids. The young father of three with a fourth due in November was busy, and likely worn out, from all those trips across and around the lake. My granddaughter Isabelle, 7, declared the boat rides “awesome.” Why? “We went really fast,” she explained. Ah, yes, speed. All kids were accounted for when the boat docked.
The water theme continued on land with a water balloon fight in the afternoon. Izzy hesitated, until I suggested she join the younger kids and avoid the older boys who threw with determined force. Eventually adults were caught in the crossfire, even hostess Rosie who had gone to a balcony to photograph the chaos below. And then Katie targeted her cousin Jonathan, who ended up with a bucket of water dumped over his head, just as he handed off his cellphone. What memories…
A section of a tri-fold family photo board. That’s Miranda in the middle photo looking up. Her grandma is right above her in a 1970 photo, which I adore and had never seen. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2023)
PHOTOS AND STORIES
Randy’s oldest sister, Annette, put together a photo board. My great nieces Katherine and Sierra studied the images, trying to determine identities. “I can’t believe that’s my mom,” Katherine said of a baby photo of her mom, Jocelyn. Likewise Sierra struggled to believe a long-haired young woman was her grandma, Cheryl. Even I, and I almost hate to admit this, didn’t recognize my own daughter initially. I looked at a photo of a toddler and thought, “she looks familiar.” Well, of course, my brain reacted in a delayed response, “that’s your daughter Miranda.”
I also learned something about Miranda after paging through journal entries from an annual Helbling aunts and cousins get together that spanned from 1996-2008. Miranda penned a note about alternative casino plans with cousins Lindsey and Katie with one adding a postscript about going clubbing. What fun those teens must have had writing that message. I laughed, then photographed the note to text to Miranda in Wisconsin.
Tom and Betty Helbling in 1988.
HONORING BETTY
This is all the stuff of memories. This journal kept through the years. The treasured family photos. The conversations and family updates shared after lunch. The games and boat rides and water balloon fight and BINGO and free play. And then the jigsaw puzzle exchange, honoring matriarch Betty, lover of jigsaw puzzles and gone nearly 30 years already (way too soon at age 59). I love the Helbling family, which I’ve been part of for 41 years now. I cherish their love and support. And I cherish our time together at the annual family reunion.
Horseshoe Lake, south of Crosslake in central Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2023)
WE LOVE OUR LAKES in Minnesota, dubbed “The Land of 10,000 Lakes.” In reality, our state has more than 10K, but that’s a nice, round, marketable number.
Recreational boating. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2023)
And because we love our lakes so much, we spend endless hours enjoying them year-round, especially during the summer. I was well into my sixties before I experienced cabin lake life.
A blue heron walks the dock. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2023)
Recently, Randy and I headed to a family member’s lake property south of Crosslake in central Minnesota, to us Up North since we’re from southern Minnesota. Randy’s youngest sister and her husband have graciously invited extended family to stay in their guest lake cabin. And each summer for the past several, we’ve made the four-hour drive north to relax at the lake.
The lake experience is new for Randy also, relaxing on the patio on a cool day. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2023)
As someone who grew up on a dairy and crop farm with only two childhood vacations in her history, none of them at a lake, these cabin stays have proven tranquil, relaxing and lovely in every way. There among the tall pines with a clear view of Horseshoe Lake, I feel such peace. Isolated. Disconnected from the world unless I opt to connect via my smartphone.
Lounge chairs line the beach. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2023)
Time has no clock here. No schedule.
A loon on Horseshoe Lake. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2022)
Awaken with the sun or sleep in. While away hours fishing from the dock, lounging on the beach or reading lakeside. Pull a kayak into the lake if you’re a water lover, which I am not. I like water, just not being on water. Watch the loons while listening to their haunting call.
Randy took a kayak out to retrieve a kite he lost in the lake. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2023)
Delight in the imaginative play of the grandchildren, this year forming the Shovel Team with their over-sized beach toys. For me, this is part of the joy of lake life, this time together with Izzy, 7, and Isaac, 4, who always anticipate their family vacation to the “brown house.” They look forward to helping Grandma assemble s’mores, to swimming and playing on the beach, to ice cream at Lake Country Crafts & Cones and to pizza from Rafferty’s. We are building life-long memories.
The lake can be busy with boaters at times, especially weekends. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2023)
This is perhaps what I love most, this being with family. Mornings and afternoons and evenings spent together, then sleeping under the same roof. Meals mostly charcoal-grilled and shared. Walking hand in hand with the grandchildren down the long pine-lined driveway. Collecting shells. Washing sand from little feet. Cuddles and hugs and sitting on the bed playing a card game with made up rules.
And this year, solar system artwork created by artist-in-residence Isaac taped to the log walls in our bedrooms.
Water skiing behind a jet ski. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2023)
This is the stuff of Up North at the cabin. Generational connections defined by love-filled, joyous moments at the lake.
Signage for Crosslake Town Square features a loon graphic. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2022)
I’m excited about the forthcoming center, which will enlighten me about the Minnesota state bird. Up until I started going Up North to the cabin several years ago, the loon was mostly an unfamiliar bird to me. If there are loons in southern Minnesota, I haven’t seen them. Minnesota is home to an estimated 12,000 loons, their habitat primarily in central and northern lakes.
Photographed from a distance, the loon family on Horseshoe Lake. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2022)
Now each visit to my sister-in-law and brother-in-law’s lake property south of Crosslake, I hope to see loons. This summer I enjoyed plenty of loon watching as a family of four swam the waters on our side of Horseshoe Lake.
I observed this behavior once, of a loon rising from the lake. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2022)
It’s entertaining to watch these birds swim close together, the parents obviously protecting their two young offspring. It’s interesting, too, to see how the adults dive underwater, resurfacing a significant distance away. I’m especially intrigued by their haunting call. There’s no other word to describe the voice of the loon.
A loon photographed near the Horseshoe Lake cabin dock. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2022)
On our final morning at the cabin in early July, Randy called me to come quick to the dock. The loons were the closest they’d been during our four-day stay. Just off the dock. It was then that I got my best photos. My daughter and granddaughter got even closer when a loon landed next to them while they were paddleboarding during a recent stay at the lake.
To the right in this frame, you can see a boat nearing the loon on Horseshoe Lake. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2022)
I wonder about the closeness of people to these birds. I worried about recreational boaters speeding across the lake and possibly hitting the loon family. It seemed a real possibility at times. I imagine the speedboats and jet skis and water-skiers stress the loons.
A loon photo graces the side of a truck parked in a parking lot across from Crosslake Town Square. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2022)
Once the Loon Center opens, I’ll be more informed about the red-eyed common loon with the black head and ringed neck and distinctive patterned black-and-white feathers layering over a white body. There’s simply no mistaking a loon’s identity. Adults weigh 7-13 pounds.
A loon family and a boater mingle on Horseshoe Lake. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo July 2022)
This lovely and distinct bird symbolizes not only Crosslake and the surrounding area, but Minnesota. In 2019, Minnesota lawmakers appropriated $4 million for the National Loon Center. Fundraising is also part of the financing plan. In the end, the loons will benefit as the center aims to protect and restore loon habitat, to research this beautiful waterfowl and to teach all of us about our state bird.
TELL ME: Have you seen a loon? I’d like to hear about your observations of loons.
Homemade roadside signs identify lakeshore property owners along Horseshoe Lake. These signs are posted all over lake cabin country. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2022)
FOR MANY MINNESOTANS, summer means going Up North. That escape to lake and cabin country has been, for me, elusive, not part of my personal history, until recently. Now, thanks to the generosity of a sister-in-law and brother-in-law, who own lake shore property in the central Minnesota lakes region, going Up North is part of my summertime, and sometimes autumn, experience.
Randy and our granddaughter, Isabelle, 6, head onto the dock in Horseshoe Lake. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2022)
Now I understand what I’ve missed—the peacefulness of simply getting away from it all, the beauty of immersing one’s self in nature, the quieting of the spirit beside the water, in the woods, on the beach.
A northwoods style cabin across the lake from wherewe stay. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2022)
In this land of 10,000-plus lakes, I’ve discovered the draw of lake life. I grew up on a crop and dairy farm in southwestern Minnesota, where lakes are few. I can count on three fingers the number of vacations during my youth—one to Duluth at age four, one to the Black Hills of South Dakota as a pre-teen and then camping once with an aunt and uncle at Potato River Falls in Wisconsin. That’s it. Cows have a way of keeping farm families home. My kids will tell you that our family vacations were mostly to visit grandparents with a few camping trips and other close by trips tossed in. No going Up North to a cabin.
I love the kitschy roadside signs pointing to lake properties. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2022)
But now, oh, now, several summers into going Up North to the lake cabin, I fully embrace what so many Minnesotans hold in their family histories.
Sailing on Horseshoe Lake. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2022)
Waterskiing is part of the lake experience for some. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2022)
Sunset on Horseshoe Lake. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2022)
The appeal of a lake comes for me not in boats or jet skis or sailboats or kayaks or paddleboards, but rather in the natural aspect. The sun rising over the lake, painting pink across the sky. The sun lowering, bathing the far shore treeline in dusk’s light. The moon rising.
Loons glide across Horseshoe Lake near the dock. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2022)
And then in the water, the watching of loons as they glide, duck, emerge, their haunting voices breaking the silence of early morning. I never tire of seeing them, of hearing their call, of observing babies swim near their protective parents.
A loon family seemingly unbothered by a nearby pontoon. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2022)
For a few summers, eagles lived in a nest on the family lake property. To see those massive birds on-site, flying into the treetop nest, perched there, proved fascinating. They’ve moved on to another location and eagle sightings are infrequent.
A bluegill caught from the dock. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2022)
The clarity of Horseshoe Lake continues to impress me. I can see fish swimming in schools and some singularly. That’s vastly different from southern Minnesota lakes, most murky and green. Unappealing. But here fish bite by the dock, exciting the grandchildren and Grandma, too.
Typically the adults make a brewery stop. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2022)
Our eldest daughter and her family are part of this Up North experience and it is perhaps that which most pleases me. To have this time together—eating meals lakeside, swimming, fishing, taking nature walks, sitting around a campfire and making s’mores, going into Crosslake for ice cream or craft beer—all of these moments I treasure. We are connecting, making memories, delighting in one another in a beautiful and peaceful setting. If only our other daughter and her husband and our son could join us, then my joy would be complete. But given the distance they live from Minnesota and their job and school obligations, I don’t expect a full house at the cabin.
Randy fishes with both the grandchildren, here Isaac, age three. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2022)
So I celebrate the Up North time we have, whether just Randy and me at the cabin or six of us. I love walking the long drive buffeted by towering pines. I love the stillness of the lake in the early morning. I love the crackle of burning wood and the taste of gooey s’mores. I love the lack of obligations and schedule and plenty of time to read a book or lounge on the beach, the sun warming the sand and my skin. I love every minute with those I love. I love that going Up North is now part of my life story, even if it took well into my sixties to write that chapter.
TELL ME: If you’re from Minnesota, do you go Up North? If you’re from elsewhere, do you have a similar escape? Please share. I’d love to hear your stories.
Please check back for more posts about going Up North.
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