Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

What color is this Green Bay Packers barn? October 7, 2012

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TRAVELING HOME from northeastern Wisconsin this afternoon while the Green Bay Packers were playing the Indianapolis Colts, I spotted this barn along Wisconsin Highway 10 near the New London exit.

The barn owner was paying homage to Packers’ quarterback Aaron Rodgers with the message of “#12 is #1.” My husband told me that since I am clueless as to nearly anything regarding football except that Wisconsinites are crazy about their Packers.

Now, how crazy are they? I’ll let you decide. One of these barn photos shows the actual color of the barn. Which is it? You decide by casting your vote via a comment.

Go.

CHOICE #1: Is the barn painted Green Bay Packers green?

CHOICE #2: Is the barn painted Green Bay Packers gold?

CHOICE #3: Is the barn painted barn red?

Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Caution: Machinery, deer (maybe even a John Deere) & a cold front October 4, 2012

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IF YOU LIVE IN MINNESOTA, in the heart of farm land, you’ll totally understand the first part of the message below posted on a sign in front of the Henderson City Hall.

Slow moving farm machinery and deer chased from their habitat most assuredly are reasons to be extra cautious while traveling rural roads during the fall harvest.

As for that “Chilli on the Hilly,” strike the second “l” in “chilli” and you have chili served this coming Saturday at the Henderson House Bed and Breakfast up that road to the left (Minnesota Highway 19) and around the curve and then to the  right up the steep hill.

Or, strike that second “l”  in “chilli” and change the second “i” to a “y” and you have the current weather in Minnesota. Chilly. Ten inches of snow forecast for northwestern Minnesota today, folks.

Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Webster, Minnesota, on a Sunday morning in September October 3, 2012

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Reflections in the window of the Webster Post Office.

IN WEBSTER, MINNESOTA, on a Sunday morning, the rooster crowed…

 the black cat prowled…

and the John Deere combine roared through town.

And we were an hour late for worship services at St. John’s Lutheran Church (due to an incorrect time published in an area newspaper).

Because we missed church and had an hour before serving of the annual fall harvest dinner at St. John’s, my husband and I had more than enough time to explore this unincorporated village in northern Rice County some 30 minutes south of the Twin Cities.

BRO Machine Company housed in an old creamery.

It takes all of about a few minutes to drive around Webster, unless you park, get out and search for photo ops to define the essence of this rural community. Only then do you notice the nuances that give Webster its character.

Like any small town, it’s worth your time to stop and appreciate, to notice the bikes dropped by kids on lawns, the toy trucks abandoned outside front doors, the aging buildings, the well-kept yards with beautiful flower gardens, and the rolling countryside around Webster. All of this makes you (or at least me) want to pull up roots and move to this peaceful place.

But since that’s not practical…I took photos a few weeks ago…in September.

A beautifully-landscaped yard in Webster.

A front yard in Webster.

I was particularly charmed by the friendly MN Valley Co-op Supply sign on the side of the building.

PLEASE CHECK BACK for one more post with images of Webster, which is only a few blocks long and wide.

© Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Scenic southeastern Minnesota on a Sunday afternoon in autumn September 30, 2012

West of Faribault on Sunday afternoon.

I NEVER TIRE OF IT. Never. Autumn in Minnesota is stunningly beautiful. Stunning.

A Sunday afternoon drive took my husband and me west of our Faribault home along Cedar Lake Boulevard and then on Old Dodd Road, all the way to Kilkenny.

Lake Francis, Elysian

From the Irish settlement, we continued west and then south and west and south and, well, I don’t navigate, until we entered Elysian from the north.

Tetonka Lake, Waterville

We then aimed back east and north along a dusty gravel road and then a tar road to Waterville.

Northeast of Waterville.

We traveled through the North Morristown area and, nearing Faribault, skirted Cannon Lake on the north and east.

It was, for us, a leisurely horseshoe drive to view lovely Autumn, dressed in her Sunday best.

North and east of Waterville somewhere, maybe closer to North Morristown.

A lovely treeline somewhere on the eastern end of our route.

Along Seventh Street in Faribault….my community has stunning autumn colors along many, many residential streets.

A block away up the hill from my house are some of the most blazing gorgeous trees in town lining Second Avenue Southwest by Bethlehem Academy.

© Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

The Smithsonian in Hanley Falls & Hanley Falls in the Smithsonian (exhibit) September 20, 2012

The Smithsonian’s Museum on Main Street exhibit, “The Way We Worked,” features snippets from Minnesota. Photo courtesy of Minnesota’s Machinery Museum, Hanley Falls, in rural southwestern Minnesota.

I DOUBT MANY of the 304 residents of Hanley Falls, rural Yellow Medicine County, Minnesota, have ever visited the Smithsonian or even traveled to Washington D.C.

But now this internationally-acclaimed museum has come to Hanley Falls via “The Way We Worked,” a Museum on Main Street project developed by the Smithsonian Institution Traveling Exhibition Service and adapted from an original exhibition from the National Archives.

Bottom line, if you can’t bring the people to the museum, bring the museum to the people.

Specifically, from now through October 20,  Minnesota’s Machinery Museum in Hanley Falls is hosting the exhibit on where, how, who and why Americans work.

But that’s not all. Hanley Falls is part of “The Way We Worked,” as are several other Minnesota places and people.

Says Museum Director Laurie Johnson: “It is an honor in itself to be hosting a Smithsonian Traveling Exhibit. To be an actual part of the exhibit traveling all over the U.S. is a very big honor.”

Hanley Falls’ place in the exhibit falls in the “Communities at Work” section and features a 1987 aerial view photo of Hanley Falls by Vincent H. Mart sourced from the Minnesota Historical Society. The MHS photographic collection includes 5,697 aerial views from around Minnesota photographed by Mart between 1962-1988.

The 1987 Vincent H. Mart photo showing a portion of Hanley Falls and now part of the Smithsonian traveling exhibit. Photo courtesy of Minnesota’s Machinery Museum.

Mart’s black-and-white shot #5,655 in the MHS archives, and now in the Smithsonian exhibit as image 196, shows the then Hanley Falls Farmers Elevator (now the Farmer’s Co-op Elevator) on the west side of town, plus Bennett Transportation (bus company) and the fourth-generation Oftedahl family farm. As a side note, the elevator celebrated its 100th anniversary this past July on Minnesota’s Machinery Museum grounds with more than 2,000 in attendance.

According to Johnson, the scene in the photograph no longer looks the same. Several of the grain bins were damaged in a wind storm and the main office was  moved and an elevator built to the southwest of the Oftedahl farm. The old elevator remains and is still used by the Farmer’s Co-op.

The exhibit copy which accompanies the Hanley Falls photo reads, in part:

The reminders of a town’s main industry imprint its landscape and identity. Silos dominate the skyline in Hanley Falls, Minnesota as they do in most small, agricultural communities.

And here’s how Johnson summarizes what the Hanley Falls photo tells us about “The Way We Worked:”

Farming is a way of life here and has been for many generations. The exhibit talks about “community” and we are definitely a community that works, worships, (has) neighborhood get-togethers and plays together.

Johnson, who lives on a farm about 10 miles north of Hanley Falls, further explains that the local elevator, banks and gas station provide jobs in town. Some residents work in neighboring towns. Many are retired.

You’ll find plenty of old tractors and farm machinery, along with vintage cars and trucks, in the museum’s outbuildings. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

Already the Smithsonian show is attracting more visitors to Minnesota’s Machinery Museum, defined by Johnson as “an agricultural museum recalling farm life in stories and artifacts from how we farmed with horses to a farm kitchen, bedroom, parlor and general store…preserving our agricultural heritage for generations.”

The entrance to the portion of the museum housed in the former school, a WPA building. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

The five-building Yellow Medicine County museum complex, which includes the former Hanley Falls School built in 1939 by the Works Progress Administration, rests on six acres. You’ll find antique tractors, automobiles, gas engines, threshing equipment and other machinery and artifacts in the outbuildings.

A bushel basket, one of the many ag items displayed at the museum. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

Until October 20, you also can find five multi-sided kiosks featuring photos, videos, flip booklets and other interactive activities as part of the Smithsonian’s “The Way We Worked” exhibit.

Besides Hanley Falls, other Minnesota places/information in the show are a photo of women sorting sweet potatoes; quotes from Earl Bakken, founder of Minneapolis-based Medtronics, maker of the first self-contained pacemaker; a 1974 photo from Danheim Dairy in New Ulm; a SPAM Town banner; mention of the Moorhead Spuds (hometown pride for the town team); and a 1928 photo of St. Paul Gas and Light Company workers at a dance.

Johnson has no idea how the Hanley Falls photo became a part of this national touring exhibit. She discovered the town’s inclusion while vacationing in Tennessee, where she stopped to view the exhibit.

An old Hanley Falls fire truck is among vehicles housed in the outbuildings. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

After leaving Hanley Falls, the exhibit will travel to five other Minnesota locations, including the Wright County Historical Society in Buffalo (Oct. 27 – Dec. 8); the Winona County Historical Society in Winona (Dec. 15 – Jan. 26); the Steele County Historical Society in Owatonna (Feb. 2 – March 16); the Virginia Area Historical Society in Virginia (March 23 – May 4); and the Depot Preservation Alliance in Baudette (May 11 – June 22).

In Hanley Falls, “The Way We Were” can be viewed between 10 a.m. – 4 p.m. Monday – Saturday or from 1 p.m. – 4:30 p.m. on Sunday. The museum season was extended to accommodate the show.

Admission to Minnesota’s Machinery Museum is free, but monetary contributions are accepted via a free will donation box.

Located in southwestern Minnesota, Hanley Falls sits nine miles south of Granite Falls or 20 miles north of Marshall along Highway 23. Go one block west of Highway 23 and then a block north to find the museum.

An old-style farm kitchen on the second floor of the museum. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

“The Way We Worked” is presented in Hanley Falls in collaboration with the Minnesota Humanities Center. Funding, says Johnson, is via the Center; The Clean Water, Land & Legacy Amendment (Arts & Cultural Heritage Fund); the Smithsonian Institute; the National Endowment for the Humanities; and the United States Congress.

Minnesota’s Machinery Museum previously hosted the Smithsonian’s Museum on Main Street projects “Barn Again” and “Between Fences.”

FYI: To learn more about Minnesota’s Machinery Museum, click here to link to the museum website.

For more info about “The Way We Worked,” click here.

To view additional photos by Vincent H. Mart in the Minnesota Historical Society archives, click here.

© Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

One person’s junk…Hot Sam’s Antiques, Part III September 19, 2012

Truck door signage, a nod perhaps to Jake Hood, owner of Hot Sam’s Antiques, Lakeville, Minnesota.

ONE MAN’S (or woman’s) junk is another man’s (or woman’s) treasure.

That adage could aptly be applied to Hot Sam’s Antiques, rural Lakeville, Minnesota.

I’ve posted about this antique theme park twice already. Click here and here to read those stories. But Hot Sam’s deserves a third post. Why? Think upcycling and recycling.

Barry, artist and upcycler of stuff at Hot Sam’s Antiques.

I appreciate businesses like Hot Sam’s Antiques which sell or re-purpose used stuff. We are too much a throw-away society although, in recent years, it’s become suddenly chic to upcycle or purchase vintage/used. I hope the trend lasts beyond the current economic depression.

Inside the log cabin at Hot Sam’s is a bounty of antiques, collectibles and other used merchandise. The door leads to the wrap around porch, where you’ll find more goods.

For decades I’ve shopped at rummage sales and thrift stores. The bottom line is that I am careful with my money, a trait instilled in me while growing up in a farm family with little money. Think eating white rice with cinnamon and sugar for a meal. Think no birthday presents. Think shopping only for clothes hung on the sales rack.

My parents worked hard to provide for our family of eight, but it was not easy for them. I never realized, though, that we were poor until I grew into adulthood. That’s a credit to my parents’ love and care.

Because of my upbringing, I tend to bargain shop and put less value on material possessions than many in today’s society. For example, of all the furniture in the house my husband and I own, only five—the sofa, recliner, twin bed frame, entertainment center and my office desk—are pieces we bought new.

Likewise, nearly all of the art I own originates from rummage sales, thrift or antique stores, or recycled art sales.

There. That should explain why I appreciate places like Hot Sam’s Antiques.

And I also like Hot Sam’s because of the creative art pieces such as Popeye and Olive Oil and Sweet Pea riding in the family car. I watched “Popeye” cartoons while growing up.

Somewhere in my memory bank I possess a memory of my dad telling us to watch for the flying red horse en route to visit relatives in the Cities. I couldn’t tell you now where that red horse was located, but I’m fond of this icon. In the background you”re correctly seeing a Statue of Liberty jutting from the front end of a partial vintage car.

I rode in a taxi once in Chicago. It didn’t look anything like this one at Hot Sam’s. But that’s my single taxi experience.

I’d like to attend a circus once… See why I love this place?

Ten years or more before I experience the validity of this statement.

© 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

 

A maple bacon sundae & other delights at a Waterville coffee shop September 13, 2012

Singing Hills Coffee Shop, at the corner of Main and Third Streets in downtown Waterville in southern Minnesota.

KATHY GREW UP in Detroit, worked 20 years as a deck officer on a freighter for the Merchant Marine, met her husband at a Halloween party, birthed two daughters in her 40s and then, with no business experience, opened a coffee shop in December 2010.

That’s the life synopsis of the woman behind Singing Hills Coffee Shop in the southern Minnesota lakeside community of Waterville, best known for its bullheads and Buccaneers—as in the local high school champion football and basketball teams.

Inviting outside dining at the Singing Hills Coffee Shop.

One-third of a stately, anchor brick building on a corner of Waterville’s Main Street houses the coffee shop. It’s as inviting on the outside—with bistro tables and a bench and window baskets popping with hot pink petunias and luscious ivy spilling from pots—as it is inside.

The bright, cozy dining area of the coffee shop with local arts and crafts displayed on shelves to the right and on walls.

Kathy’s daughter, Marina, waits on customers.

On an early Sunday afternoon, 45 minutes before the 2 p.m. closing, Kathy hustles to prepare sandwiches and ice cream treats while her 10-year-old daughter, Marina (yes, her name is a nod to Kathy’s time on the water), takes orders, accepts payment and makes change.

Kathy hurries back to the kitchen to prepare orders while customer and friend, Kari, relaxes in a back coffee shop corner. Tim Foster’s “American lures” painting (oil paint, oil pastels and graphite on canvas) anchors the wall. It was inspired, he says, by old fishing lures. Kathy would like to purchase the $450 painting as a permanent installment in her shop. I suggested she collect tips to help her buy it. Foster sells his mostly abstract and surreal paintings through his website and studio, at Hogan Brothers in Northfield and via art shows. Kathy saw “American lures” at the 2012 Sakatah Arts Experience in Waterville and invited Foster to bring his painting to her coffee shop.

In a comfy corner chair, Kathy’s friend, Kari, is reading her bible, seeking comfort at the recent, unexpected loss of her 36-year-old cousin. Light floods the homey space warmed by walls the hue of honey on two sides and a contrasting robin’s egg blue on the other.

A printed sign on a slim spot between two towering windows reads:

Conduct Code—Love your neighbor as yourself. Treat other people the way you want to be treated!

Owatonna resident John Muellerleile’s fine art photography on display and for sale.

Kathy welcomes customers and artists here, into this corner haven in a town that thrives on summer-time business from resort guests, cabin dwellers and users of the recreational Sakatah Singing Hills State Trail.

Her customers come here for the ever-popular smoothies and the favorite turkey avocado sandwich, for the coffee and the espressos and other beverages, for the breakfast and soup and sandwiches and salads and baked goods and ice cream treats.

On this Sunday, my husband and I have driven 15 miles for an ice cream treat upon the recommendation of our friend, Joy, who raves about the maple bacon sundae.

As Randy places our order with Marina, I chat with Kari in the corner, take photos and admire a focal point, 6-foot by 4-foot oil painting by Tim Foster of Northfield. His fish-themed art piece, titled “American lures,” is “so Watervillian,” Kathy tells me later, fitting this lakeside town which celebrates bullheads at an annual June festival. There’s a deeper meaning to the painting in which words like “love” and “prove it” and “Federal Reserve Bank” are hidden, Kathy says, but we don’t get into details.

An example of the handcrafted work of local artisans for sale in the coffee shop.

Kathy works with the nonprofit Waterville Local Cooperative Outlet to provide a marketplace for some 8-10 local artisans and crafters. Their creations—from woodcrafts to crocheted caps, paintings, photos and more—are displayed on walls and on shelves through-out the coffee shop.

Donald Kelm of Waterville, a custom woodworker, created this mug.

Engaging the arts community exemplifies Kathy’s efforts at community development. That extends to the food aspect of her business, too. She wanted, she says, more dining options than bar food burgers and fries for the town she and her family now call home. And Kathy offers that with a sandwich menu which doesn’t include a single burger. The closest thing to fries are the chips accompanying sandwich orders.

On her sandwich menu, you’ll find choices like egg salad on a croissant; veggie wrap with hummus, provolone, red onion, red pepper and spinach; and cherrywood smoke ham with garlic cheddar, tomato and mustard sauce. You can build your own sandwich, order a cup of soup.

Hungry for a bakery treat? Kathy has selections from cupcakes to pie to traditional Upper Peninsula style pasties, a tribute to her native Michigan.

Singing Hills Coffee Shop’s delicious maple bacon sundae.

But, on this Sunday, I’ve come only to sample the maple bacon sundae with spicy maple-glazed pecans, homemade maple caramel and bacon, yes, bacon, on vanilla ice cream. My husband questions my choice. I don’t, and find the sweet and salty mix a perfect complement to the ice cream. I’d give the maple bacon sundae a five-star recommendation.

An equally tasty blueberry sundae.

My less daring spouse orders a blueberry sundae and is equally pleased with his selection.

These two boys came with their moms, and a sister of one, for ice cream treats. The boy on the right told the boy on the left that he had a mustache. Then I told the boy on the right that he had an ice cream mustache, too.

A retired couple who spend their summers at a Waterville resort rave about the sandwiches while two moms ordering ice cream for themselves and their kids endorse the ice cream.

Kathy, though, admits that business growth was slow during her first year and that she’s still learning, given her inexperience as a businesswoman. With summer winding down, she’s cutting back on hours. Singing Hills Coffee Shop is closed now on Mondays and Tuesdays, but open from 8 a.m. – 5 p.m. Wednesday – Saturday and from 8 a.m. – 2 p.m. on Sunday.

On October 14, the coffee shop will close for the season and then reopen in mid-April.

So, if you want to try that maple bacon sundae…

FYI: For more information about Singing Hills Coffee Shop in Waterville, click here to reach the shop’s website.

To learn more about the arts scene in Waterville, specifically the annual Sakatah Arts Experience, click here.

For more info about Northfield artist T. Andrew Foster, click here to visit his Creative Space Art Studio website. 

Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

A Sunday afternoon drive to Waterville, Minnesota, Bullhead Capital of the World September 12, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 6:55 AM
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Main Street Waterville, Minnesota, on a Sunday afternoon in September.

THE THING ABOUT SMALL TOWNS is this. They’re not boring cookie cutter places with chain stores and look-alike subdivision houses occupying space in the middle of nowhere. I know, I know, you likely disagree about that “boring and middle of nowhere” if you live in a sizable city.

But these small towns possess individuality and character. And by small town, I mean a community of 5,000 or fewer residents. Just want to be clear on the definition.

Exploring small towns is something I enjoy, probably because I grew up on a dairy and crop farm near Vesta, current population around 330 or so, among the corn and soybean fields of southwestern Minnesota.

I’m intrigued by these communities which are most often ignored as simply, sigh, another place to slow us down as we rush from one destination to the next. I’m as guilty as the next traveler in feeling that way.

But sometimes I intentionally slow down. In recent years my husband and I have embraced Sunday afternoon drives, not unlike the Sunday drives of my youth. Dad would guide the family car along the washboard gravel roads of Redwood County, sometimes venturing into neighboring Yellow Medicine County, so we could look at the crops.

While Randy and I sometimes take gravel roads, our ultimate destination is typically Main Street.  We meander to a nearby small town, park our vehicle, get out and walk. It is then that we discover the quirks, the character, the feeling of community and closeness which define a given town.

Our most recent Sunday jaunt took us to Waterville, only 15 miles from Faribault. I’ve been into this lakeside town of nearly 1,900 perhaps half a dozen times, just to drive through it, tour Ron’s Hardware (a story in itself, but it was closed the Sunday we were there), enjoy an ice cream treat and, many years ago, to grab a burger and beer at the Corner Bar.

Mostly, though, Waterville has been a town my family zips past along Minnesota Highway 60 en route west. By doing that, I’ve missed out, missed out on the defining details. And the easiest way to notice those details, when Main Street businesses are mostly closed on a Sunday, is to check out the signage.

Welcome to Waterville, Minnesota, Bullhead Capital of the World, where signs hint at this community’s individuality and character.

CHECK BACK FOR A FUTURE post featuring one of Waterville’s newest businesses.

© Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling