Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Revisiting The Dam Store in Rapidan, now threatened by a raging river June 26, 2024

The Dam Store in Rapidan, photographed in 2010. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2010)

FOURTEEN YEARS AGO, I wrote a magazine feature story on The Dam Store, a rural southern Minnesota business serving up food, bait and tackle. People travel for miles to buy a burger and a slice of homemade pie here. It’s the kind of place that appeals to me—unpretentious and welcoming. Cozy, homey and comfortable, with great food.

The calm Blue Earth River, photographed in 2010, looks nothing like this today. The raging river has taken out trees, a house, a county shed, and electrical substation as it cut a new path around the Rapidan Dam. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2010)

The small eatery is located by the Rapidan Dam, a dam which has been in the news all week due to its possible imminent failure. Thus far, the dam has held. But the roaring, overflowing Blue Earth River carved a path around the dam to the west, eventually claiming the Hruska family’s riverside home. They run the nearby cafe.

This shows the short distance from the dam walkway to The Dam Store. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2010)
The Hruska family, including Jenny Barnes, has run The Dam Store for some 50 years. Her nearby childhood home fell into the raging river Tuesday evening. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2010)
The Dam Store has been written about often as shown in this wall of feature stories. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2010)

The Dam Store sits a short distance away, close enough that it could possibly be overcome by floodwaters. At least that’s my non-professional opinion. And if that worries me, I can only imagine how the family feels.

Delicious burger and fries. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2010)
Notebooks full of praise for The Dam Store. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2010)
Homemade rhubarb pie. The Dam Store is known for its fruit and cream pies. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2010)

This place is a treasure. A destination. A slice of Americana run by folks who care deeply about their customers. People rave about The Dam Store. I read that in comments filling a notebook when I was there back in 2010. I feel the same. To dine here is an experience, a step back in time to days when life seemed simpler.

Public officials are now concerned about the integrity of this bridge as the river is no longer flowing over the Rapidan Dam but cutting a path to the west. This 2010 photo shows a low, calm river. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2010)
The Dam Store was packed with diners during my 2010 stop. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2010)
The dam, built in 1908-1910, is 475 feet wide and measures 87 feet from the top to the streambed. This 2010 image shows a section of the dam and the nearby bridge, now in jeopardy due to river bank erosion by floodwaters. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2010)

The scene unfolding today in Rapidan is decidedly one of concern and watchfulness. And for many, one of hope. Hope that The Dam Store will remain standing, untouched by floodwaters. The building has been there since 1910, the eatery in the Hruska family for more than 50 years. This is their history, their life, their livelihood. Their home. Their place.

The main dining area of The Dam Store with booths and lunch counter. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2010)

The Rapidan Heritage Society has established a relief fund for the Hruska family with donations accepted at MinnStar Bank offices in Mankato and Lake Crystal. Click here for more information.

These guys ordered burgers at the lunch counter. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2010)

Now, until The Dam Store reopens—and I’m being optimistic that this will all turn out OK—enjoy these photos taken in 2010. I think you’ll understand why this place is so popular, so loved.

© Copyright 2024 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Wildlife observations from along the flooded Cannon River in Faribault June 25, 2024

An egret flies over the Cannon River by the barely visible dam at North Alexander Park on Friday evening. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 21, 2024)

WILDLIFE SENSES, understands, picks up on nuances that we as humans often fail to notice in our heads-bent-to-our-smartphones, busy scheduled lives.

A blue heron perches on the edge of a tree along the Cannon River by the park-side dam. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 21, 2024)

The recent flooding is a prime example. I saw countless cellphones raised to record floodwaters and rising rivers. I carried my 35 mm Canon camera, drawn just like everyone else to document the historic natural event unfolding before me along the Cannon River in Faribault.

An egret and blue heron seem to be checking out the river as a red-winged blackbird sits among the grasses to the right. That’s the Faribault Mill in the background, railings for the park-side dam in the foreground. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 21, 2024)

But I also noticed the wildlife. They, too, were observing. Watching the water. And watching people invade their river habitat by the hundreds. I sensed how uncomfortable the egret, blue heron, ducks and red-winged blackbirds were amid all the human chaos. So many people and so much traffic.

Flying high above the flooded river. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 21, 2024)

I expect they longed for quiet. Peace. A respite from the attention. A return to normalcy. No more peering eyes. No more crowds gathering.

A bullhead partially emerges from shallow water on dam’s edge as it tries to swim up the floodwaters. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 21, 2024)
Another bullhead attempts to swim up river. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2021)

And then there were the fish, primarily bullheads, but a few bass, attempting to swim up through water that was rushing down, spilling over the edges of the dam by North Alexander Park. The fish appeared determined to make it to the other side, to the quieter waters of the widened river. It seemed a losing cause to me. But who am I to discourage a stubborn bullhead? If anything, it was fascinating to watch.

A duck family swims in the shallow floodwaters next to the top of the dam. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 21, 2024)

Finally, I observed a mama duck and her brood aside the top of the dam. They began edging, descending toward the river. Foolish ducks, I thought, judging the mother mallard. And then I voiced my concern out loud, “Stop, you’ll drown!”

The ducks move toward the deep river. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 21, 2024)

I can only imagine the thoughts of that mother and her six ducklings. “Did that woman really say that, warn us to stay out of the water lest we drown?” If ducks could laugh, the seven of them would have chortled, chuckled, carried on and then shared what they’d heard me say. Quack. Quack. Quackity. Quack.

A mallard drake swims in the Cannon River, nowhere near the female duck and ducklings. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 21, 2024)

But it was my husband who spoke for them. “They’re ducks, Audrey,” Randy said. “They can swim.”

An egret stands watchful and tall, next to the water rushing, roiling over the dam. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 21, 2024)

Uh, yeah. He was right. But it was the mom in me emerging, the protective spirit that, in that moment, did not separate wildlife from human so focused was I on the dangers of the swollen, swift-moving river.

© Copyright 2024 Audrey Kletscher Helbling