WHILE ON THE ROAD from Faribault to my hometown of Vesta and back recently, I noticed interesting roadside details. These may not necessarily catch the attention of other motorists. But they caught my eye.
“BARGAIN” GAS
Let’s start with the price of unleaded gas at Morgan Convenience, Food & Fuel. It was priced at $4.18 (rounded up a tenth) on May 26. Elsewhere along the route, the cost was $4.49 (rounded up a tenth). I don’t understand how the gas price in Morgan, a small rural Minnesota town of some 900, can be so much lower than in neighboring New Ulm, population around 14,000, for example. Or in Faribault with about 25,000 residents. This makes no sense to me and is not the first time gas prices in more rural outstate Minnesota have been priced considerably lower.
MORE THAN JUST BURGERS
Also in Morgan, I spotted this sign: THE SPOTT. And, yes, the period is part of the abbreviated name. Clever. Upon returning home, I researched this business, full name The Spotted Bear Ale House. It’s a restaurant and full service bar.
The Facebook page features lots of food I’d enjoy: loaded pulled pork baked potato; pulled beef Gouda sliders with Parmesan fries; caramel, strawberry lemon, raspberry and/or banana rolls with peanut butter frosting; General Tso chicken and rice with crab salad; and more. Yum. The offerings impress me as vastly different from your typical small town burgers and other bar food. As a side note, this business is for sale.
AN ESTATE IN THE MIDDLE OF FARM FIELDS
Just down the highway, another sign grabbed my attention. That was signage on an old threshing machine marking the Redwood County Historical Society’s Gilfillan Estate. It’s not the sign so much as this property west of Morgan along Minnesota State Highway 67 that is noteworthy. Here you’ll find both the estate and the site of Minnesota Farmfest.
The estate, with its long, tree-lined driveway leading to a stately house, has been here for as long as I can remember. The original owner, Charles Duncan Gilfillan (1831-1902), bought 10,000 acres of Redwood County farmland. He built a house, offices, a grain elevator, stockyard and tenet homes here and raised purebred livestock exported to Great Britain. Eventually his son, Charles Oswin Gilfillan, took over the estate. The younger Gilfillan was an active philanthropist in Redwood County. I must make an effort sometime to tour the estate and learn more about the Gilfillans and their generosity.
A NOD TO FARMING OF YESTERYEAR
More history is written onto a silo that hugs U.S. Highway 14 east of New Ulm. The A.C.O. on the brick silo stands for AC Ochs of the AC Ochs Brick and Tile Company in Springfield, several towns down the road to the west 30 miles distant. These silos, made from curved bricks, were built across the Midwest between 1910-1945. I love their historic, signature look and their unique construction. They are landmarks of a bygone era of diversified small family farms.
AN OLD SCHOOL MOTEL
In New Ulm, the Colonial Inn along North Broadway/Highway 14 appears old school motel. And it is. Built in 1953, rooms in the U-shaped building open to the paved parking lot. While I’ve only seen the motel from the exterior and a few photos on the no-frills website, this motel seems exactly as I would expect. Basic. Simple. And a throwback to yesteryear with the exception of WiFi.
FIRE & BRIMSTONE
Finally, in the Smiths Mill area along Highway 14 east of Mankato, a thought-provoking sign asks whether you will go to heaven or to hell when you die. I have no idea who paid for this billboard with the John 3:36 notation at the bottom. But it’s certainly an oddity in highway signage. Fire or no fire?
You never know what you’ll discover while on the road.
© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Minnesota Prairie Roots 
Westward bound deep into Minnesota farm country May 28, 2026
Tags: agriculture, barns, Brown County, commentary, farm fields, farm sites, farming, land, landscape, Mankato, memories, Morgan, New Ulm, Owatonna, photography, Redwood County, rural Minnesota, sky, southern Minnesota, travel, Vesta
THROUGH SEVEN SOUTHERN MINNESOTA counties we traveled—Rice, Steele, Waseca, Blue Earth, Nicollet, Brown and, then, home to Redwood. Westward bound.
Only occasionally now, mostly for the annual family reunion and on this day a beloved aunt’s funeral, do Randy and I follow this 125-mile route back to my native Redwood County.
Every trip, I see the immensity of sky and land as the landscape unfolds before me. The farther west we drive, the more rural the look, the feel, with the exception of Mankato and New Ulm.
We bypass the small towns along four-lane U.S. Highway 14 while passing endless farm sites and fields.
I have my eye on the view from the passenger side of our van, scanning the land, watching for photo ops. Photography can be a challenge while traveling at highway speeds. Still, I try, managing to capture images that document the ruralness of this place.
Barns, especially red ones, always grab my attention. They symbolize agriculture more than any other building. Yet, most no longer center a farming operation. Absent of animals, many barns have been repurposed or have fallen into heaps of rotting wood. I always appreciate a well-kept barn still standing strong against elements and the passage of time.
This trip I’m also cognizant of crops at the beginning of the growing season. Corn is popping up in rows across the land, green shoots reaching toward the sun, the sky. Green is good. When my next trip this direction comes in late July, that corn will stand towering and dense across acres of fields.
I may not be a farmer, but my connection to the land more than 50 decades removed from my childhood farm remains strong. I still look at the crops. I still hope to spot a herd of Holsteins. I still see a silo and mentally climb the interior ladder to throw down silage. I still eye a grove of trees with the playfulness of youth.
While nostalgia runs high on trips like this deep into Minnesota farm country, reality is that farming remains as challenging as ever with ever-rising expenses, low commodity prices and the uncertainties of weather. Will rain fall when needed? Will storms come with devastating wind and hail? Always, always, the risks exist from planting to growing to harvest.
But on this day, mile after mile after mile, I see the hope of a farmer. I see a way of life. I see dreams.
And I feel small in this place where land and sky dwarf farm sites, where fields stretch across endless acres, where the highway ribbons ahead of us across seven rural southern Minnesota counties, westward bound.
© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling