Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

A brutally cold Sunday in Minnesota January 4, 2015

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 8:00 PM
Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

TODAY APPEARED deceptively lovely. Blue sky. Sunshine. Fresh layer of snow overnight.

A rural scene along Interstate 35 north of the Northfield, Minnesota, exit.

A rural scene along Interstate 35 north of the Northfield, Minnesota, exit.

But appearance is not reality.

On this Sunday in Southern Minnesota, the temp dipped to minus two degrees Fahrenheit by late afternoon.

A tough job on a cold day, cleaning up after a crash.

A tough job on a cold day, cleaning up after a crash.

On Highway 36 in Roseville, a Minnesota state trooper faced the unenviable task of clearing debris from a crash scene. Only his cheeks and nose appeared visible from behind a black mask as he worked in the brutal cold. He faced the additional danger of two lanes of heavy traffic propelling toward him. All it would take is one inattentive driver…

Steam hangs heavy in the air during cold spells.

Steam hangs heavy in the air during cold spells.

Near downtown Minneapolis, smokestacks billowed steam, always more prominent on days like today.

A sun dog photographed from Interstate 35 between the Northfield and Faribault exits.

A sun dog photographed from Interstate 35 between the Northfield and Faribault exits.

As day shifted to evening, sun dogs showed up, bright columns of light flanking the sun.

Another sun dog, photographed just before the first Interstate 35 exit southbound into Faribault.

Another sun dog, photographed just before the first Interstate 35 exit southbound into Faribault.

It’s been one cold day in Minnesota.

© Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Is this even legal? November 26, 2014

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 5:00 AM
Tags: , , , , ,
A monster Caddy.

A monster Caddy.

THREE QUESTIONS:

Why?

Is this street legal in Minnesota, or anywhere?

How do you get in and out of this Cadillac?

(Photographed early Saturday afternoon along Interstate 35 northbound toward downtown Minneapolis.)

© Copyright 2014 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Meatesota, Minnesota, whatever August 28, 2014

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 6:00 AM
Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,

THE BILLBOARD MESSAGE plays on Minnesota’s tag, “Land of 10,000 lakes.”

Fareway Foods billboard

But it doesn’t work for me, this Fareway Foods sign along Interstate 35 just north of Faribault promoting the grocer’s meat department with “Meatesota, Land of 10,000 steaks.”

I don’t get it. What 10,000 steaks?

The thing is, I really do like Fareway’s meat, although I have yet to try a steak. I am not a big steak eater. But I certainly savor Iowa chops.

If this is the Iowa based company’s effort to cozy up to native Minnesotans like me with a spin on our state’s thousands of lakes theme, then this fails in my marketing book.

But I suppose in theirs it succeeded. After all, I noticed the billboard and now I’m writing about it.

© Copyright 2014 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Why I hate traveling around the Twin Cities on a summer weekend August 12, 2013

“OH, THE PLACES you’ll go…you can steer yourself any direction you choose…”

Apparently Dr. Seuss has never driven through the Twin Cities metro on a weekend, especially this last one.

You could not go any direction you chose due to road construction. Everywhere.

On Saturday morning, heading north from Faribault on Interstate 35 and then eventually northwest on Interstates 494 and 94, my husband, son and I encountered gridlock, as in stopped traffic or traffic moving at a 20 mph maximum for mile beyond endless mile. I have never seen the traffic situation this bad in 30 years of occasionally traveling these three interstates.

It all started near Lakeville, where we crept along to the I-35 Burnsville split.

But pity the poor motorists backed up even further as the sound bound lanes of 35 were shut down completely for the entire weekend. After viewing the miles and miles of stopped traffic there, we opted for an alternative route home on Sunday (more on that in a minute).

Back to Saturday morning. Before the river bridge in Burnsville, north bound traffic finally opened up. Yeah. Little did we know…the worst was yet to come.

Not long after exiting 35 onto 494 west bound, which for once was not a harrowing experience of trying to shoehorn our van into traffic, we encountered more delays. Again, road construction is to blame along with the usual heavy weekend traffic. All told, travel time from Faribault to Monticello totaled nearly two hours. Usual drive time is maybe an hour and 20 minutes.

The only two positives in all of this: At least everyone was creeping along, meaning no crazy motorists driving like maniacs and/or weaving in and out of traffic. And roads are being improved.

Four hours later, following a brief stop at a rest stop, we reached our destination, a family reunion in Morris.

The reunion was great (photos of that forthcoming tomorrow). But the thought of returning home through the metro on Sunday afternoon, not so much. We knew the traffic then would be even worse with motorists heading back into the Cities from a weekend up north.

My husband’s oldest sister, after sharing a story of how she and her husband once sat for 40 minutes on a metro interstate on a Sunday afternoon without moving, proved the deciding factor in taking the long back way home. At least we would be moving.

So near St. Cloud, we exited 94 on Sunday and followed Minnesota Highway 15 all the way to Winthrop. Seems other motorists had the same idea. Yeah. But at least we were moving.

Road construction on Minnesota Highway 21 in Faribault.

Road construction on Minnesota Highway 21 in Faribault. Nothing compared to metro road construction and the major traffic snarl-ups there. Sorry, but I failed to photograph the interstate gridlock.

Five hours later, following a lunch break and a stop to purchase fresh veggies at a roadside stand, we drove into Faribault and, ta da, more road construction. In the nearly 30 years I’ve lived here, I’ve never seen this much road work on major roadways (Minnesota Highways 60 and 21) in my community. Not quite metro area gridlock, but…

DO YOU HAVE ANY stories to share about traffic in the Twin Cities metro this past weekend?

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

On my way home from the Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport February 22, 2013

MY VISUAL VIEW OF THE WORLD often differs from that of the average person. I notice details like…

Delta planes, edited 3

…the cold harsh lines of a building fronted by an equally forbidding fence with only a hint of welcome in the slight, graceful curves of aircraft tails.

Bridge over the Minnesota on Cedar edit 2

…the graceful arcs of the Minnesota River bridge on Cedar Avenue south of the Mall of America and the Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport

Buck Hill

…the grace of skiers swooping down Buck Hill in Burnsville on a February afternoon

Barn along I35

…and the sweet redeeming grace of rural Minnesota as seen in the Sugardale barn along Interstate 35 just north of the Northfield exit.

HOW DO YOU VIEW your world?

Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Instead of “Let it snow,” I’m singing, “Don’t let it snow any more” December 20, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 11:16 AM
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , ,
An edited scene from my home office window before 8 a.m. today.

An edited scene from my home office window before 8 a.m. today.

WHAT I FEARED MAY OCCUR is currently unfolding across the Midwest. Snow. Lots and lots of snow.

The snow in and of itself really is quite lovely, unless you must deal with it, drive in it.

And that’s precisely the problem. I don’t need to tell you that. I expect many of you, like me, are awaiting the arrival of loved ones for Christmas.

My second daughter, who lives 300 miles away in Appleton, Wisconsin, is scheduled to drive to Faribault on Friday, her first trip back since the Fourth of July. I want my girl home for the holidays.

But…the situation in Wisconsin right now is not good with snow and blowing snow creating hazardous travel conditions. Nor is it good in southeastern Minnesota, where blizzard warnings are in effect for as near to me as Steele County, the county right next to my home county of Rice. We’ve gotten perhaps five inches of snow here in Faribault.

Radio announcers are reporting difficult travel along Interstate 35 south of Faribault on into Iowa. The Minnesota Department of Transportation 511 website confirms difficult driving conditions throughout the southeastern region with words like “snow, drifting snow, blowing, slippery.”

Three hundred miles away in Outagamie County, in which Appleton is located, the sheriff’s department has issued a tow ban on US 41, a major north-south freeway linking cities like Milwaukee, Oshkosh, Appleton and Green Bay. My daughter travels US 41 often in her work as a Spanish medical interpreter. It worries me that she may be sent out to some hospital emergency room in an outlying rural community today.

I realize it does no good to worry. But I am a mother, and mothers never stop worrying about their offspring, even when those children are independent adults. Given last week’s tragic loss of 20 children in Sandy Hook, I think we are all especially emotionally vulnerable right now.

WHAT ARE WEATHER and road conditions like in your area? Has the weather changed your holiday travel plans or those of loved ones?

© Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

My adventure at a Minnesota “antique theme park,” Part II September 18, 2012

Would you follow this driveway into the woods? I did. And what an adventure.

“I’M A LITTLE SCARED,” I admitted as we turned off Pillsbury Avenue just south of Lakeville, Minnesota, onto a narrow, hard-packed gravel road. Thick dark woods crept to the edge of the driveway and my imagination ran wild with fairy tales that ended badly.

What lurked in those woods? I glanced toward my husband, who was guiding our van into the unknown. “I hope there’s not a big dog.” I imagined a ferocious canine, teeth bared, legs planted in a defensive stance.

A dog-themed sign, one of many signs on the property. And, no, spelling is apparently not a priority here.

There were no guard dogs—unless you count the little dog interested only in pursuing a baby bunny and not humans. There were no bad endings.

But I wanted to warn you, lest you initially think like me and consider backing out even before you enter the wonderment which is Hot Sam’s Antiques.

Junk cars line the driveway, left. And, yes, that’s a Statue of Liberty standing in that red junk car in the background.

This place is part junkyard, sculpture garden and antique shop.

If you like your picking places all nice and neat and tidy, then this may not be your shopping venue.

Under construction in the woods, an over-sized motorcycle sculpture currently lashed to a tree limb among the junk.

But if you are adventuresome, don’t mind scuttling around junk (aka art/fabulous finds/treasures), have lots of time to meander and appreciate a one-of-a-kind place bursting with creativity, then, welcome to Hot Sam’s Antiques.

FYI: Click here to read my first post introducing you to Hot Sam’s Antiques. I have so much to show you that I will be writing a third post.

Along the driveway, you’ll see this fence decorated with an eclectic collection of stuff.

Just more abandoned vintage cars along the side of the driveway.

One of two planes on the property; the other one’s nosedived into the swampland. Yup, that’s a train in the background, behind the gigantic sunflower and to the left.

Following its theme park theme, Hot Sam’s pays tribute to the 1960s television sitcom, “Petticoat Junction,” via several on-site train cars (including this caboose) and a water tank. You’ll find antiques and collectibles inside the boxcars.

Anyone who knows me and how much I fear chickens will appreciate that I actually photographed these fowl roaming at Hot Sam’s.

This log cabin is simply bursting with antiques and collectibles, inside and out.

The hippie van, parked along the beach in the theme park area of Hot Sam’s.

I was tempted, quite tempted, to disobey these signs. Next visit…

© Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Touring Hot Sam’s, an “antique theme park” near Lakeville September 17, 2012

Northbound on Interstate 35 just south of Lakeville, you’ll see this roadside art marking the location of Hot Sam’s Antiques.

YOU’VE SEEN THE ECLECTIC COLLECTION, I’m sure, if you’ve ever traveled Interstate 35 northbound near Lakeville.

Just another view of the eclectic art collection, shot while traveling the interstate. No stopping for this photo.

You’ll see the fearsome shark first as you’re driving north on I35.

Just south of exit 81 atop a hill on the east side of the interstate, a red ANTIQUE sign draws your eye to a mish-mash of stuff. Several rusting cars. A rather vicious looking blue shark (although I’m sure you don’t notice the detailed sharp teeth while racing along the interstate at 70 mph). A lady bug. A rocket and a submarine. And, heck, there’s an oversized guitar, too.

At the north end of the line, the ginormous guitar.

A view from atop the hill, in the middle of the eclectic collection.

For 30 years I’ve seen the changing collection and always wondered about Hot Sam’s Antiques. Now, after a recent Saturday afternoon visit, I need wonder no more.

Kathy Sakry, left, and Aina Puritis on the front porch of the log cabin.

Honestly, how to begin to describe this place seems an impossibility, until I meet Aina Puritis—pronounce that Latvian first name with a silent “A” and a long “i”—a part-time employee of three months. “I’ve never seen anything quite like this,” I tell Aina.

“You got that right, honey,” she agrees, then offers her definition. “It’s an antique theme park, a mix of this and that.”

The log cabin, back and to the right, is packed with antiques and collectibles. I spotted the charming, cottage style treehouse, left, but didn’t even check to see if I could explore inside. I was running short on time.

Aina nails Hot Sam’s with that description because, in addition to thousands of antiques and collectibles crammed inside and outside a log house, outbuildings and train cars and scattered upon the grass and through the woods and along the sides of the narrow gravel drive, you’ll discover a wonderment of creations fitting a theme park.

Barry was painting a giant sunflower when I came upon him among the junk in the woods.

You might find Barry (no last name offered), a retired laser cutter turned artist, back in the woods among all the junk working on his latest sculptures—painting a giant sunflower or building an oversized motorcycle roped and suspended from a tree limb.

Nemo from the back, looking toward the log cabin on the hill, center, a boat on the left and train cars in the distance to the right.

He takes credit for transforming a vintage car into the Disney cartoon fish Nemo via orange paint, the addition of fins and eyes and some major interior redecorating. Nemo’s beached in sugar fine sand along a ribbon of water which meanders into the 10-acre property.

Inside Nemo, my absolute favorite part of the entire antique theme park. Who would ever think you could turn an old car into something so incredibly magical?

The tropical beach scene seems oddly out of place given the native swampland grass and surrounding woods and the autumn leaves littering the sand. But no one claims anything’s exactly as it should be at Hot Sam’s.

A close-up of the hippie van parked in a beach setting with fine white sand and even a hammock.

That’s part of the appeal, to see a peace-out hippie van parked on the beach; the wreck of the S.S. Minnow from the 1960s T.V. sitcom, Gilligan’s Island, hugging the shore; the canary yellow tail of a crashed airplane poking through the swampland grass across the water.

“It became a labor of love,” Kathy Sakry says of this whole intriguing place. She’s the significant other of Jake Hood, who, along with his mother, Gladys Hood, 26 years ago transformed a field with a two-car path into Hot Sam’s Antiques. Nine years prior to that, the business was located in Burnsville. Gladys died in December 2010.

Kathy prefers not to explain the story and inspiration behind the antique theme park, choosing instead to hand over a reprint of an article written by Gladys and published in Reader’s Digest. To summarize, Gladys’ father, Hyreeg, an Armenian immigrant living in Detroit, collected scrap metal to raise money for a flagpole upon which he flew a U.S. flag symbolizing his pride in becoming an American.

Inside the log cabin, I found this collectible glassware and this welcoming sign, which seems to exemplify the welcoming spirit of Hot Sam’s Antiques.

Gladys wrote in 2002 that she acquired her father’s love for hard work and collecting (she would go “picking” with him as a child) and continued his legacy via her business. She collected for practical and recycling reasons and for the joy of sharing in the memories of those who visit Hot Sam’s.

I saw at least three Statues of Liberty on the property.

Whether a tribute to her father’s patriotism or not, numerous replicas of the Statue of Liberty are planted on Gladys’ tangible slice of the American dream.

About that business name… Kathy says Hot Sam was Gladys’ nickname, a name she preferred to her given Gladys, which taunting youngsters reinvented into, well, you can figure that out, during her childhood.

Then Kathy shares more about Gladys and a clearer picture emerges of this strong woman. She once raced cars, breaking the land speed record on Daytona Beach in 1956.

This mock, crashed airplane is positioned across swamp grass on the property.

Despite her prior days of daring, competitive racing in a man’s world and of traveling, Gladys seldom left Hot Sam’s once established, Kathy relates. And when she did, it was to attend air shows with her adopted daughter, airline and aerobatic pilot Julie Clark. The bi-plane and staged, mock plane crash at Hot Sam’s are perhaps visual connections to Julie, whose birth father was murdered in 1964 while piloting a plane which subsequently crashed, killing all 44 aboard. Or perhaps the planes reflect Gladys’ general affection for air shows.

While wandering the grounds of Hot Sam’s, you have to wonder where Jake and Gladys acquired all this stuff and Kathy says only that they are buyers and sellers. She wants me to talk to Jake and sets off to find him. But I am anxious to photograph this magical antique theme park in the perfect, golden hour around sunset. I never do connect with Jake.

I am not the only photographer here on this late Saturday afternoon. I meet a young couple and their two children primping for a family photo shoot with St. Louis Park-based portrait photographer Jess Sandager of Olive Avenue Photography. Later I meet up with the family and photographer near the beach. Jess tells me Hot Sam’s is well-known in the photo industry.

Although I’d like more details, I won’t keep Jess from the waning, perfect light.

I watch for a minute as Jess works her camera, photographing the little boy on a tractor and then mom and baby.

The beached Nemo.

Father and son, in the meantime, are now heading toward the orange fish on the beach, toward Nemo—dad walking, son running…

Watch for this sign at 22820 Pillsbury Avenue South directing you onto the narrow gravel road into Hot Sam’s Antiques.

FYI: To get to Hot Sam’s Antiques from Interstate 35, take exit 81 near Lakeville and go east on Dakota County Road 70 about half a mile to the stoplight. Then turn south onto Kenrick Avenue/County Road 46. Continue approximately 1 1/2 miles on Kenrick, which turns into Pillsbury Avenue. Hot Sam’s is located on the west side of the road at 22820 Pillsbury Avenue South, Lakeville. You’ll see a sign.

Hours are from 10 a.m. – 6 p.m. weekdays (except closed on Thursday) and Saturday and from noon to 6 p.m. on Sunday.

Check back for more photos from Hot Sam’s because there’s so much more I need to share with you.

© Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Zip code 56046 July 26, 2011

THE NEXT TIME YOU’RE traveling Interstate 35 south of Owatonna, instead of whipping by the Hope exit at 70 mph, pull off the freeway and check out this unincorporated community of 120 residents, probably best-known outside of Steele County for Hope Creamery butter.

Unless my husband and I missed the signage, we never saw a sign marking the creamery and simply guessed that the butter-making operation is housed in an old brick creamery on the edge of town next to a farm.

But we discovered several other places of interest after parking our car along the one main road that cuts through Hope. Yes, you need to park your vehicle, get out and walk, rather than simply driving through town thinking, “There’s nothing here.”

You would be wrong, oh, so wrong.

First point of interest: 56046. That would be the Hope Post Office. With a street front facade resembling the general stores of yesteryear or perhaps a building from a western movie set, this old-style structure charms.

The Hope Post Office sits along Main Street. The elevator complex in the background is just across the train tracks.

Take in the details: the red and blue bench, the double front doors, the rock out front, the welcoming porch...

Even the lettering on the front window has old-style charm.

Maybe it doesn’t take much to impress me, but I appreciate buildings with character. I quickly determined that the post office serves as Hope’s community hub. I pulled open the screen door and stepped inside a closet of an entry, the door to the post office to my left, the door to a gift shop to my right. Smack in front of me, I found business cards and signs, church festival notices and other information tacked onto a bulletin board. A clutch of rubber-banded newspapers lay on the floor in front of the post office door.

The community bulletin board inside the post office entry.

A clutch of bundled newspapers outside the locked interior post office door.

From inside the post office entry, a view across the street of the bank and an antique store.

Since I was there on a Sunday afternoon, I had to settle for standing outside, peering through the large, cracked and taped front windows to view the customer service area that is smaller than most bathrooms. But it serves the purpose and I’m sure Hope folks are happy to still have their post office.

I always figure once a community loses its school, its post office and its bank, well then, you may as well close up the town. So far, Hope has only lost its school.

Today the U.S. Postal Service releases a list of 3,600-plus post offices under consideration for possible closure in a cost-cutting effort. I hope Hope is not among them.

Post office hours are listed on a cracked and taped front window.

CHECK BACK FOR MORE posts out of Hope and other area communities I recently visited while on a Sunday afternoon drive. It’s my philosophy that most of us are missing out on the treasures of small-town U.S.A. because we fail to get off the freeways, park our vehicles on Main Street and explore. Either that or we’re “too busy” to slow down and notice the details worth noticing in our small towns.

If anyone knows about the history of the Hope Post Office, submit a comment. I would like to learn more about this building.

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Prairie poetry in Fergus Falls June 12, 2011

SATURDAY MORNING MY HUSBAND and I hit the road, heading north on Interstate 35 and then west on Interstate 94 to the west central part of Minnesota.

This was our destination:

It's approaching noon on Saturday, and we've nearly reached our destination, Fergus Falls.

Because of this:

The first of my four Roadside Poetry billboards in a stretch of ditch along North Tower Road in Fergus Falls.

I got word last Monday that my winning Roadside Poetry Project spring poem will come down on June 17, to be replaced with a summer poem. (Click here to read a previous post about my poem.) So if I wanted to see “Cold earth warmed by budding sun sprouts the seeds of vernal equinox” and my name—all sprawled across four Burma Shave style billboards—we had to get our butts up to Fergus Falls.

So we did, making the 200-mile trip this weekend under big skies that stretched all the way to the Dakotas.

After a few stops, including a swing into Melrose to view an historic Catholic church (more on that in another post), we eventually reached Exit 54 into Fergus some 3 1/2 hours later. We followed Highway 210/West Lincoln Avenue, turned onto North Tower Road and drove past the NAPA Auto Parts store before reaching those poetry billboards. I mention NAPA because Randy works at the NAPA store in Northfield as an automotive machinist and we found it interesting that my poems just happened to be right down the road from the Fergus NAPA store.

We passed right by the NAPA store to reach my billboards just down the road.

When Randy pulled to the side of North Tower Road by my billboards, I determined this was not the safest place to park. So we pulled into the Fastenal parking lot and then descended the steep ditch, wading through tall, and wet, prairie grasses—sweet clover, June grass, alfalfa—and more than a few thistles.

Our shoes and jean legs were soon soaked with moisture. But, you know, that really didn’t matter. I was so focused on viewing my four-line, spring-themed poem and on taking photos that the wet feet and denim seemed more a nuisance than anything worth fretting over on a glorious early Saturday afternoon.

And so, billboard by billboard, we worked our way down the road ditch, stopping by each sign for photos. Eventually I handed the camera over to Randy, who managed to figure out how to turn on the camera, focus it, compose and snap some pictures.

Me posing by the last of the four billboards with my spring poem.

This may be the first and last time my poetry, and my name, will be on billboards, so I savored every letter, every word, every line, every billboard...

Then I snapped this image of my husband, who had plucked a spear of prairie grass and slipped it into his mouth. The frame marked one of those quick clicks of the camera that resulted in a photo that you could never recapture given its spontaneity.

A sweet shot of my husband as he walked away from the final billboard.

I’m uncertain how long we worked the road ditch along North Tower. But long enough to appreciate that this spot on the edge of town, under a sky that always feels bigger, wider, on the open prairie, perfectly fit a poem written by me, a southwestern Minnesota prairie native.

I crouched to capture this image which focuses on the road ditch prairie grasses.

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling