Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Up North at the lake cabin September 29, 2020

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The residuals of sunset tint the sky and the water on Horseshoe Lake.

 

JUST OVER A YEAR AGO, my sister-in-law and brother-in-law purchased a lakeside property in central Minnesota with a guest cabin. That bonus cabin, located a short walk from the year-round lake home, was among the main reasons they chose to buy this place. They wanted to invite family and friends to stay.

 

We fished from the dock while others fished from boats. Randy caught three fish. My solo catch got away after it flipped out of Randy’s hand on the dock. I then found a net.

 

What an incredible blessing the cabin has already proven to be to many in the family, especially during a global pandemic. Randy and I recently spent several days at the cabin, our third stay there in a year, and our first time without any other family. It was exactly what I needed. A respite. A break from reality while immersed in nature.

 

Signs like this mark lake properties in the central Minnesota lakes region. I find these collections, and signature art at the ends of driveways, to be visually, artistically and historically fascinating.

 

A speed boat flies across the water on the opposite side of the lake.

 

On the weekend of our September visit, neighboring lake properties remained unused. Nice and quiet, just how we like it.

 

Unlike many Minnesotans, I did not grow up with trips Up North to the cabin. I didn’t even grow up with vacations, except two—one to Duluth at age four and the other to the Black Hills of South Dakota around age ten. Such is the reality of a childhood on a crop and dairy farm, where the cows don’t allow for vacations. Randy grew up the same way.

 

Skies opened to beautiful blue reflecting on the water. We lounged lakeside for awhile.

 

Because of that and because, even as adults, we’ve vacationed minimally (due to cost and few vacation days until recently), we deeply appreciate, enjoy and delight in this time at the family lake cabin. We are experiencing something—time off and time at the lake—that many take for granted.

 

Pines border the driveway into the lake property. This scene is so Minnesota northwoods.

 

The central lakes region of Minnesota feels vastly different from life in Faribault south of the metro. And that’s exactly the point of getting away to the cabin. There I feel much more connected to the natural world. By the lake. By the family of resident eagles. By the crowded woods of thin pines that stretch tall and lean along the driveway into the lake property. By the rush of wind through those pines.

 

Chairs on a neighboring dock…

 

Combined, all of those differences create a sense of peace that only nature can deliver.

 

Randy cooks an evening meal of buffalo burgers, bacon and vegetables over a lakeside campfire.

 

Our brother-in-law has chopped plenty of wood for campfires and fireplace fires.

 

Even though the weather during our most recent visit was sometimes cool and exceptionally windy, Randy and I spent most of our times outdoors. Fishing. Hiking. And, in the evenings, pulled up to the warmth of a campfire. Oak chunks flamed before burning to red hot coals and embers. We talked. And sometimes just sat, lost in our thoughts. One evening we listened to band music carrying across the landscape from a nearby bar and grill.

 

A daytime view looking to the pine tops.

 

After our campfire time, before heading indoors, we paused to look skyward. To the stars filling the night sky. Beautiful in the lack of light pollution. Bright points in the inky darkness. Earlier in the summer, we showed those same stars to our four-year-old granddaughter, who was staying with us at the cabin along with her family. Isabelle was “too excited to sleep,” she told us. So outside we went to view the stars. Not that that helped settle her excitement. But why not take our granddaughter outside in her pajamas to see the stars?

 

Randy takes a quiet walk along the beach.

 

Such moments are part of a cabin vacation. Or any vacation. As Randy and I stood under the starry sky in September, we remembered that moment with Izzy and how we look forward to future stays at the lake cabin with our family. Building memories. Memories we never had, but which are now making. Because Randy’s youngest sister and her husband are sharing their piece/peace of heaven with us, their family. We are grateful.

 

© Copyright 2020 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Up North at the lake cabin, Part III: Eagle watching July 18, 2020

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This scene is familiar to those who spend weekends or vacation along lakes in central and northern Minnesota. “Up North,” as we say.

 

UP NORTH AT THE LAKE CABIN evokes, for many Minnesotans, memories of lazy summer days on the water, on the beach, on the dock. Fishing. Swimming. Boating.

 

Nearly in the top center of this photo, high in the treetop, sits one of the young eagles.

 

A sign posted on a pine identifies this as an eagle zone.

 

This juvenile perched here for the longest time.

 

But, for my family, which is just now making such memories thanks to a generous sister-in-law and brother-in-law who recently purchased lake land with a guest cabin and are welcoming extended family, Up North also means eagle watching. The lakeside property south of Cross Lake, came with resident bald eagles.

 

An eagle (s) flies along the lake.

 

And last week, while staying at the cabin, I spent plenty of time watching eagles. As did the husband, eldest daughter, son-in-law, granddaughter and, occasionally, the son. One evening, just as we sat down to our lakeside dinner, an eagle flew directly over us. Other times, we watched it from afar, circling around the lake, along the treeline.

 

One of the eagles spreads its wings in the treetop nesting area.

 

Sure, I’ve previously seen bald eagles. Soaring. Perched over roadkill. Flying just inches from the windshield of our van. In captivity at the National Eagle Center in Wabasha. Huddled among tree branches. But this was different. This time I was in their habitat with the eagles’ nest high in a pine just outside the guest cabin.

 

The eagles’ nest is well-hidden in the tall pine tree.

 

It amazes me that these majestic and massive birds can stay so well hidden. If my brother-in-law, Jon, had not pointed out the nest in the top of the pine in the fork of the driveway, I doubt I would have spotted it, home to two adult and two juvenile eagles.

 

A view of the less visible young eagle.

 

I certainly heard them, though. At feeding time. Jon occasionally needs to clean up fish remains under the pine.

 

The only photo I got of a parent eagle. This one was sitting in a tree next to the lake, a favorite perch, Jon said.

 

It became somewhat of a joke during our cabin stay that, every time I wasn’t carrying my camera or had my short lens (rather than my telephoto) attached, the eagles would show up or fly away. I don’t possess the instincts or patience of a wildlife photographer, something I’ve long known.

 

The massive nest, spacious enough for four eagles.

 

But I’m learning. And it was a joy to take my four-year-old granddaughter by the hand and race to the pine tree when we heard the screeching of eagles. I would point and Izzy would follow my finger to the nest. Sometimes we would see an eagle. Mostly not.

 

The two juvenile bald eagles, one born last year, the other this year. One is clearly visible to the left. The other is higher in the tree to the right.

 

Days after our departure, my sister-in-law texted with the news that one of the juvenile eagles had either fallen or been shoved from the nest, landing on bottom boughs of the pine tree. The young eagle freed itself, seemingly unscathed.

 

The statue still juvenile eagle.

 

These eagles are part of the story of this land, of this place by the lake, of our memories of Up North at the lake cabin.

 

This concludes my three-part series on my northwoods cabin stay. Please feel free to share your cabin memories.

© Copyright 2020 Audrey Kletscher Helbling