Monday, June 09, 2008

My 50 Favorite Minnesota Towns #30-21

Here's my next batch of favorites:

#30. Thief River Falls (Pennington County, est. pop. 8,000). I have a special connection to this population center of Minnesota’s northwestern corner as my favorite cousin grew up there and I visited there at least once a year as a boy in the 1980s and early 1990s. I have a treasure trove of memories involving the two of us riding our bikes across town, and specifically over the bike path bridge hovering above Thief River, eager to spend every penny of our allowance money on junk food. Back in the early 1990s, I attended their county fair and was treated to a concert by country singer Tanya Tucker, who jokingly muttered a tagline often stated in reference to Thief River Falls, that “she felt like she had arrived at the edge of the earth!” A math teacher at my high school who grew up in a nearby small town made a similar “edge of the earth” reference about Thief River Falls and told me it was a common sentiment among the locals, but the locals nonetheless weren’t very amused to hear that insider joke coming from the mouth of Tanya Tucker! Located on the eastern edge of the Red River Valley, Thief River Falls is surrounded by wheat and sugar beet fields, but the primary engine of its economy has always been snowmobiles. The snowmobile manufacturer Arctic Cat is, or rather was, headquartered in this small city for decades, but if my understanding is correct, the headquarters is now relocating to the Twin Cities. I’m not sure if the manufacturing operation is leaving town as well, but if it is, Thief River Falls will be devastated. Politically, like most of the Red River Valley, Thief River Falls is a bastion of DFL strength in state and local elections, but voted against both Gore and Kerry in the last two Presidential elections. Most likely, issues of “expanding public access to snowmobilers” played a role in Bush’s dual wins up in Arctic Cat country.

#29. Wheaton (Traverse County, est. pop. 1,600). Anybody whose studied a map of Minnesota will be familiar with the fact that there’s an extra bite of territory in the state’s west-central border with northeastern South Dakota. For lack of a better term, I refer to the sparsely populated region as Minnesota’s “western hump”. The geography of this region is very complicated, with rivers diverted to form manmade lakes alongside the continental divide on the South Dakota side. Whatever the case, the drive northeast along Lake Traverse on State Highway 27 en route to Wheaton is an outstanding stretch of highway, with a wooded corridor running next to the narrow lake and offering an impressive view of the rolling hills of South Dakota on the other side. Continuing eastward through farmland for a few miles on the far northern side of the western hump is the community of Wheaton, a very well-kept bedroom community in an economically struggling region that advertises itself as “the land of ducks”. Something about the name and location of Wheaton lends itself to certain stereotyping. A guy in my college creative writing class randomly chose Wheaton, Minnesota, off the map as the location for his fictional account of a young man hiding from his past while working at a small-town newspaper. The writer by no means portrayed Wheaton as an enclave of hayseed bigots, but the conservative image he projected of the town at least partially conflicts with its history as a hotbed of fiery farm populism a century ago. Wheaton was on the northern edge of west-central Minnesota’s farm populist movement, the movement that created the socialist Farmer-Labor party, and continues to be a DFL stronghold today. Unfortunately, its graying population and fading ag-based economy certainly makes it seem like Wheaton’s best days are in its past.

#28. Jasper (Pipestone and Rock Counties, est. pop. 600). As far as I know, the Jasper area in Minnesota’s southwestern corner features the largest deposit of the unusual and aesthetically pleasing pink quartzite rock in the world. Much of the landscaping and many of the homes in the community are constructed with the colorful rock, which is the engine of Jasper’s economy. Driving on Highway 23 north and south of Jasper, large chunks of the red rock can be seen rising above the surface of the unfarmable plains, and although I’ve never seen the process, many Jasper area residents mine the rock, a process that is said to be very physically demanding. The rock is ultimately used in a variety of different products, including the red bricks made in Springfield, Minnesota about an hour east of here. Politically, Jasper is a blue-leaning community in a sea of red rock. Even as Kerry was losing Pipestone County at large by 22 points in 2004, he won the city of Jasper by six points. My personal near-calamity one mile north of Jasper involved nearly hitting a deer crossing the road directly in front of me back in 2003. My choice was to either slam on the brakes and risk veering into incoming traffic or to take my foot off the gas and hope the deer was able to get out of my way before he met the hood of my car. I chose the latter option and the deer actually needed to lift his rear paw onto my hood and springboard himself into the ditch to avoid a collision. I immediately pulled over and was amazed to see that my car got by with not so much as a scratch. Pulling over behind me an elderly woman who looked to be about 80 speaking with a thick Scandinavian accent (Danish, I think). We chatted for several minutes after she was able to discern that the deer had escaped without injury. I’ve been to Jasper once or twice since and am always more attentive to my surroundings than usual, expecting that same elusive deer to tempt fate once again.

#27. Lismore (Nobles County, est. pop. 250). For a number of reasons, I’m partial to the prairie landscapes of southwestern Minnesota, and the tiny community of Lismore in the state’s southwestern corner offers one of the most perfect “town on the prairie” landscapes I’ve come across when passing by it on State Highway 91. Lismore is about a half mile west of the highway and the vantage point allows one to see almost every home in town as well as the community’s vocal point, a very memorable white and green Irish Catholic church that stands out like a beacon on Lismore’s main street. Driving into the town once, I discovered I wasn’t the only one taken in by the church as a young artist who certainly looked like an out-of-towner was sitting on a grassy knoll across the street drawing a sketch of the large church in the small town. The cluster of Irish communities in western Nobles County is almost always a hotbed of Democratic strength, even though it can be safely discerned that the abortion issue is a factor working against the party in these monolithically Catholic towns. Nonetheless, Lismore is perhaps the hardest-core Democratic town in the bunch, routinely voting for even the weakest-performing Democratic candidates by 20-point margins, and going as high as 3-1 Democrat in most state and local elections.

#26. Lake Wilson (Murray County, est. pop. 275). Less than 20 miles up the road from Lismore on Highway 91 is another of my favorites that also happens to be an Irish settlement. Lake Wilson features an outstanding vantage point of the Buffalo Ridge a few miles to its west, particularly for travelers heading west on Highway 30. The community itself has a nice lake on its east side, and the highway curves around the lake to cut through the downtown area (that was rocked by a gas leak explosion about five years ago), which is a nice change in that most highways curve to go around the entire town in the fast-paced modern era of superhighway expedience. Heading west, it’s hard to miss the incremental upward slope of the Buffalo Ridge. I actually preferred this drive above seven or eight years ago as it offered the last unspoiled vantage point of the Buffalo Ridge before additional wind turbines were built. The Buffalo Ridge has the highest concentration of wind turbines in the country (perhaps the world) and I appreciate their presence for the most part, but I guess I would have preferred to hang onto this one last vestage of the Buffalo Ridge landscape without turbines, particularly since at the crest of the windswept Ridge is a treeless homestead and a giant wooden cutout of a buffalo that can be seen from miles away. I actually felt my heart skip a beat the first few times I approached this buffalo cutout so close to the highway, as it looks real enough from a distance to make a driver worry about dodging a 1,000-pound buffalo crossing the highway. Lake Wilson votes for Democrats the vast majority of the time, but is not as reliable as Lismore. Bear in mind, however, that Minnesota’s southwestern corner is in the Sioux Falls media market, all but completely shut out from Minnesota politics. Thus, Minnesota might have been a battleground state in 2004, but the people of Lake Wilson wouldn’t have known it based on the local advertising market which, at the time, would have been consumed almost exclusively with Daschle vs. Thune ads.

#25. Ada (Norman County, est. pop. 1,600). My list has already included a number of fine towns in northwestern Minnesota’s Red River Valley, and one of my favorites is this folksy-sounding community located in an area that has always struck me as the heart of the region. My dad claims that my grandfather, a native of the Red River Valley, was very close to buying a farm near Ada, but ultimately moved on to southern Minnesota where he eventually settled. Every time I think of Ada, I’m reminded of the main female character in the film “The Piano”, but the similarities between that film and this rural farm town certainly end there. Aside from the wheat and sugar beets that dominate the flat fields of the Red River Valley, the area just east of Ada on the nearby White Earth Indian Reservation also grows large quantities of wild rice along the banks of the aptly titled Wild Rice River. One intriguing aspect of the landscape near Ada is the abundance of cement slabs every few miles with what appears to be old-fashioned threshing machines and lengthy conveyor belts. These can be seen throughout the Red River Valley, but seem to be the most abundant around Ada. I’ve never been sure exactly what they are and would welcome any insight from those who do. Ada leans significantly Democratic, but is not a stronghold. Strangely enough, most of the farm areas of Norman County are Democratic strongholds, with certain townships averaging DFL margins as high as 80-90%. While its not uncommon to see farm areas of western Minnesota being overwhelmingly DFL, margins this high are particularly striking, and I have to assume it’s in solidarity with the reviled-most-places-but-here “sugar cartel”.

#24. Madison (Lac qui Parle County, est. pop. 1,700). Scandinavian pride is on display in a wide number of Minnesota communities, but no other community in the state is as bold in paying homage to its Norwegian ancestry than Madison, a west-central Minnesota farm town about 10 miles east of the South Dakota border. Without a hint of self-consciousness, Madison proclaims itself “Lutefisk Capital of the World” on its welcome sign heading into town, underneath a giant statue of the city’s mascot “Lou T. Fisk”. For those not familiar, lutefisk is a white fish native to Scandinavia that can only be loved (or even tolerated) by ethnic purists with the deepest sense of fjordian nostalgia. And lest anyone believe Madison is all bluster about its love of lutefisk, a brief drive through town will quickly dispel one’s doubts, with lutefisk lampposts downtown, a smiling lutefisk carved into a tree in the park, and even a slippery little lutefisk painted onto the city’s water tower. And although I’ve never been in town during their annual lutefisk festival, a national reporter from the Discovery Channel did make the journey to Madison a few years back and got to partake in not only eating lutefisk (to the bemused shock of the locals, he wasn’t digging it) but to also participate in several lutefisk-related events going on in the city for the weekend. It’s hard not to admire the spunk and sense of humor that Madison puts into its unusual claim to fame, particularly as the town continues to typify the graying and depopulation of rural America. Madison is near the epicenter of the farm populist movement that predated the formation of the Farmer-Labor Party, and both the town and surrounding rural area continue to be a hotbed of farm populism today, home of leftist Minnesota Farmers Union President Doug Peterson and an unblemished allegiance to the Democratic Party.

#23. Taylors Falls (Chisago County, est. pop. 900). As recently as 15 years ago, Chisago County was a rural area northeast of the Twin Cities dominated by Minnesotans of Swedish descent and leftist politics. In the 15 years since, the region has become exurbia, its population doubling and its politics moving to the center-right. Recently, however, Daily Kos contributor Jeremy Kalin was elected to the Legislature from this district, indicating at least a partial swinging of the pendulum back politically. On the periphery of the exurban culture is Taylors Falls, a very scenic bluff community resting on a hill along the banks of the St. Croix River, with the Wisconsin state line a stone’s throw away. It’s a very nice community and, at least as of my most recent visit, did not exhibit the telltale signs of sprawl that, for better or worse, usually leave a bad taste in my mouth. Given its proximity to the metro area (probably 45 minutes or less from St. Paul), Taylors Falls may eventually be absorbed into the blandness of exurban enclaves such as nearby Forest Lake, but the setting of the existing community is picturesque enough to where it should continue to warrant my acclaim and desire to visit in the years ahead. Even in the days when Chisago County was producing gung-ho 20-point margins of victory for the likes of Republicans Tim Pawlenty and Norm Coleman, Taylors Falls was one of the only holdouts in the county, sticking by DFLers in the vast majority of elections, although sometimes only by the slimmest of margins. Now, as the county at large moves left again, Taylors Falls appears to be moving further left itself.

#22. Montevideo (Chippewa County, est. pop. 5,500). If you’re like me, you probably think the shared name between the west-central Minnesota river town and the capital of the South American nation of Uruguay is a coincidence. Amazingly, this community was at least in part settled by South Americans, and there’s a statue in the city’s scenic downtown business sector that tells the story. The city does have a growing Hispanic population, but that has only emerged in the last decade or so, indicating that the Scandinavian settlers were infinitely more abundant that whatever microscopic South American settlement remained in town. Whatever the case, Montevideo is a very well-kept river town with perfectly groomed streets lined with trees and sloping hills down into the Minnesota River Valley. I have a couple personal connections to the town as my college roommate married his wife, a Montevideo native, in town several years ago. Furthermore, the publishing outfit that owned the newspaper I worked at in St. James was headquartered in Montevideo, so we made a couple road trips that way for seminars and meeting with the chief poobah boss. Adding to the local culture is nearby Lac qui Parle, a marshy lake that is apparently perfect for geese. In the spring, as many as 200,000 geese pass through the Lac qui Parle area and stick around through the fall. Some of the hard-core farm populist regions of west-central Minnesota can be found north and east of Montevideo in Chippewa County, lending to a Democratic tilt to the community. With that said, Montevideo was far from a Democratic stronghold 20 years ago. Nonetheless, the DFL's margins in the community have grown steadily larger with each passing election cycle to the point that Democrats are now winning Montevideo by almost 20 points each election cycle and Chippewa County was the region's strongest county for most Democratic candidates in the 2006 election. Not sure what exactly has contributed to the leftward shift, but I'll take it.

#21. International Falls (Koochiching County, est. pop. 7,000). At least in terms of population centers, International Falls has to be one of the most isolated towns in the country. The nearest town of more than 1,000 people is at least 70 miles away…..in any direction! The long drive into town coming from the west on State Highway 11 runs along the scenic Rainy River, with visible homesteads across the river in Ontario, Canada, no more than 100 yards away and the radio stations (all three of them you can get in on the dial up there!) broadcasting the temperature in both Fahrenheit and Celsius. The main highway leading into International Falls is U.S. Highway 53 running heading towards the Iron Range, which is more than two hours to the south. The highway runs near the Voyaguers National Park and a significant percentage of the traffic consists of trucks hauling logs up to the International Falls paper mills. I love all three of northern Minnesota’s paper mill towns (Cloquet and Grand Rapids are the other two), but International Falls is my favorite of the three, where one can essentially follow the smell of fresh pine directly to the Canadian border as the paper mill is located just south of the bridge crossing into Fort Frances, Canada. The logging issue appears to make for a strange political culture in International Falls, with instinctive tendencies towards the Democratic Party usually winning the day, and often by overwhelming margins, but with Republicans occasionally doing decent business when the Democrats are perceived as “tree huggers”. International Falls’ designation as the “icebox of America” is a source of pride for the natives (the first time I was there in August 2003, the temperature was 97 degrees), as well as the source of income from a number of companies testing products in the cold of northern Minnesota. Another unlikely quirk of International Falls, given its location, is its high African-American population. For a couple of decades now, the remote Rainy River Community College has propped up its enrollment numbers by aggressively recruiting in inner cities. It’s very surprising to walk through town and see the hundreds of young blacks in the community. International Falls is a community that isn’t on the way to anywhere. It’s literally the end of the road, so anyone who wants to visit the town needs to make a specific voyage to see it. But in my opinion every true Minnesota aficionado owes it to themselves to make the trip once.

The top-20 should be on its way before week's end.

1 Comments:

Blogger Sara said...

I narrowly avoided hitting a deer myself outside Carlsbad Caverns in New Mexico, where I went on vacation with my boyfriend's family in Christmas/New Year's 2005/6.

7:18 AM  

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