Northern Exposure

There are a lot of things to be proud of as a Minnesotan. Our park system is superb, our cities are clean, and our civic pride is second to none. Additionally, we have the world's largest hockey stick, ball of twine, and a northern town that boasts the coldest temperature on record. Whether the latter point is celebratory is a matter of debate, but its distinction is undeniable.
The crown jewel is Lake Superior, clear, vast, and just over two hours from my doorstep. Sunday, Sarah and I made a pilgrimmage to the big lake they call Gitche Gumee. We brought blankets, Sun chips, and sunscreen (SPF 50).
Since parking's constantly at a premium, we decided to sit at Grandma's restaurant and eat a light lunch of fish and chips on their upper balcony which boasts a great view of both the bridge and the lake. I had a good view of Sarah, and was full of fried fish. I was content.
Then, down the pier. I was hoping to see some iron-ore ships motoring into harbor, but no avail, although we saw our share of sailboats and a large boat filled with waving tourists. After that, we headed towards the beach. I must say, I was impressed. The sand was clean and soft, and the dunes seemed almost tropical. There were moments when I closed my eyes and felt like I had travelled a greater distance to arrive at that relaxation.
After getting far more sun than I had intended, we took off up towards Two Harbors, and then to Gooseberry Falls. The arid conditions have tightened the taps a little, but there were still many people splashing, mugging and generally behaving dangerously on the slippery rocks.
We made it to Split Rock Lighthouse just as the park had closed. Sarah got some great, Peter Lik worthy photos of some birchtrees, and we decided to call it a day. On the way home, we encountered some stop-and-go traffic for about five miles due to road construction and a stalled vehicle. Her Honda seemed possessed! She would let her foot off the gas, and the car would purr along at five miles an hour. Not six, not four, but five, as though it were locked in to the speed.
We got home around 10:30, sunburned, full of Culvers burgers, and deeply satisfied and sleepy.