We’ve been to some really lovely State Parks over the years, and one of the things I value most about them is that they tend to be spots of respite from a chaotic world. Since they don’t get the press of the National Parks, they tend to be quieter overall. And without The Big List to check off, people tend to stick around a bit longer which helps them relax into their surroundings. You get people who are just overnighting on their way to somewhere else, of course, but most stay at least a few days.
Lake Bemidji State Park in north-central Minnesota was like that. Calm, quiet, friendly, relaxed. The heavy tree cover made seeing the stars difficult, but it was certainly dark enough.
We stayed four nights, and on the first full day, we walked over to see Big Bog Lake (above). If you’re a rare plant lover, this park is for you. Unfortunately we went after the bog’s peak (mid-May-June) so we didn’t see any of the orchids or other rare and fragile bog flowers, but we did see a lot of the Sphagnum moss that holds the wet, boggy terrain together and heard a cacophony of bird call.
A informational plaque calls Sphagnum moss the bog’s carpet. It holds vast amounts of water which helps keeps the land wet and cool even in drought conditions. It was used by native peoples as diaper material, and since the acidic conditions render it effectively sterile, it was used as wound dressing in WWI.
A massive derecho rolled through the Bemidji area in June, topping or knocking over ten thousand trees. There are still areas where the local and regional hiking and cycling trails are closed. Cycling and driving, it was clear that huge areas were absolutely gutted. Nearly every yard had wood still laying or piled up from the summer. It’ll probably take decades for the region to recover fully.
In the bog, tree roots are especially vulnerable to uprooting and we saw many uprooted and on their side like the one below. It’s so easy to forget how wide but shallow tree roots are until you see something like this.
Look at this gorgeous orange mushroom. It has that, ‘I kill you; I kill you dead,’ vibe that nature does so well. I had to look it up. Come to find out, Suillus spectabilis is edible, but smells nasty/pungent and tastes sour—if you’re into that sort of push your luck and hope it’s not an imposter wild mushroom forager thing. I am not. I like very few mushrooms, but the ones I do like are sliced, pressure cooked, and in a tin can. Like god intended.
It’s been nice to see such a variety of trees in the Minnesotan forests. Nothing against high altitude forests, of course. I’m still a sucker for Ponderosa and Lodgepole Pines. But we’d kind of forgotten how pleasant it is to see punches of red and yellow and orange popping out amidst the conifers in the fall. I mean, just look at that proud little red maple showing off in the bog.
Later that same afternoon, we grabbed our bikes and rode the park’s mountain biking trails. Jeff couldn’t get over the fact that they were grass covered. While zooming down one hill, we passed some guys doing tree cleanup who had parked right in the middle of the trail. Calling out a ‘Halloooooo’ had one guy running, apologizing profusely for blocking the path. He explained that we were the first people he’d seen riding the bike trails in the two seasons he’d worked at the park. Can you imagine?! No one else is riding these pretty trails? I can’t wrap my head around it. The high mowed grass made more sense after that.
Eventually, the trails brought us down to Lake Bemidji (below). We walked along and took in the pretty reflections, laughing at the little kids shivering and splashing in the cold water on this unseasonably warm day. We found the fishing pier. Later Jeff put his new MN fishing license to good use while I heated up some leftovers for dinner.
But before heading to our campsite, we happily paid an unreasonable amount for some ice cold sodas to help us cool down. I fixed my bike’s brake pads at the bike repair station. While doing so, a stranger came running up with my phone. Oh my heart! Thank you, thank you, kind sir. It must have fallen out of my pocket right after stopping to take the following photo. Sheesh. I have a bright red cover for a reason.
The next day was significantly cooler, so we rode our bikes around Lake Bemidji, visited the Paul Bunyan and Babe the Big Blue Ox statues (a massive highlight for me tbh), and had lunch in town. Bemidji is a nice little town. I hear the winters are pretty intense, but we can vouch for an autumn visit. Folks were friendly, the town had all the necessary conveniences, and the rounded upper Midwest accent reminded us of Jeff’s years in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula.
I love the energy in this rendition of Chief Bemidji, although there is another one further north along the lake that is more detailed and accurate.
Over lunch, we discussed options. With some storms coming in, we debated whether we should go east to outrun them, hunker down here for the weekend, or go north to International Falls as we’d planned.
So that’s the relaxed.
As for the rushed, once back to the trailer, Jeff got a text message letting him know that a former colleague with some serious, ongoing medical issues had moved to Hospice Care. We locked eyes and made the decision that we were changing plans and heading south in the morning so that he could see him again. Luckily we were only a day’s drive away, so we packed up that night and headed out first thing in the morning.
We started with heavy fog and experienced a lot of the travel terribles: downpours, lightning and thunder, heavy wind, major road construction, and the horror that is the Minneapolis-St Paul driver. Denver has a strong competitor in the lousy driver category.
But Jeff got his visit yesterday, and I did the usual weekend cleaning and reset tasks while impromptu cat sitting. Worth the detour.
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