Russ and I have been sticking close to home lately, but not that close. Our last mini-Minnesota trip with our Scamp took us to the western prairies. We visited Lac Qui Parle State Park, which in French means “the lake that speaks.” (Or “lake which speaks.” But I can’t bear to use a “which” when a “that” will do.)
We lucked out, launching our weekend trip on a couple of the last unseasonably warm days of the season. We arrived at our Scampsite (in the Upper Campground – better view of the lake) on a Friday evening. We ate our supper on a picnic table overlooking this natural impoundment of the Minnesota River, formed by glaciers long ago. The lake earns its name because it’s a migratory stopover for thousands of birds in the spring and fall. A better name for it, perhaps, would be “the lake that sings.” During those times, visitors will hear a chorus of quacking and honking. Not many birds were around during our stay, but we did hear some Canada geese and murmurations of starlings.
Watching the orangey sunset in the big sky, we felt like we were stealing the last warmth before fall. Unlike our previous mini-trips to Lake Superior’s North Shore, trees were scarce at this campground – only a few, since we had crossed over into prairie country. We awoke in the morning to the sounds of gunshots – pheasant hunting season.
Saturday was forecast for warmth, so we planned to visit a farm where Russ’s daughter works and spend a few hours canoeing down the Chippewa River with her. I must admit I am spoiled by northern Minnesota Rivers. The Chippewa, which flows through agricultural land, looked a bit murky, but the cloudy water was overshadowed by the brilliant golden fall colors of the trees along its banks. The park offers canoe rentals if you want to explore the lake or the river. We were lucky enough to score our watercraft from the farm.
Water levels were low, so we needed to be on the lookout for shallows. We navigated many rapids – most Class I, which would have been more fun in higher water. Eagles visited us on the way, along with some mysterious waterfowl we never got close enough to identify.
On our last morning, we hiked the mown trail from the campground down to the lake. Then we walked up to the road and crossed it to see the largest cottonwood tree in Minnesota. One would expect a tree like this to be near the water, but it was up a hill and down the other side, many hundreds of yards away from the lake.
This grandmother tree is truly impressive. My pictures do not do it total justice. I thought I had seen large cottonwood trees before, but they pale compared to the girth of this one.
Here are some pros and cons of the Upper Campground at Lac Qui Parle.
PROS
- The campground was quiet during the day and night.
- Sites are spaced far enough apart to feel private.
- Hiking trails are nearby and so are towns, if that’s your thing.
CON
- There are hardly any trees in the campground, but this is a prairie, after all!
That’s it for our mini-vacations. Snow has arrived and we’ve stored the Scamp for winter, resting up for future adventures.
If you are a Duluthian or just want to be Duluthy, and you are tired of biking the Munger Trail, try its wild, more adventurous twin, the 
We accessed the DWP from Spirit Mountain’s Grand Avenue chalet. If you go up the ski hill about 200 yards from the chalet, you will run into the trail, which crosses the hill. You can also access it from a gravel road and trail system to the right of the chalet, but those are technically closed this season due to COVID-19.
I’ve spent some time on Vermilion Lake before but had not been to the park yet. This large lake is reminiscent of the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness – same rocky shorelines, scraggy spruces and towering pines – but development is permitted (outside of the park) so lots of cabins and lake homes line the shore.
Russ and I had driven past the signs for the memorial off Highway 53 several times and finally had the time to stop. The first thing to greet us in the parking area was poetry. A snow-covered stone mantle sat at the entrance to the memorial. We brushed off the snow, trying to read the poem that was etched into the rock. We couldn’t do this because of the moisture, but were able to make out some of the words later, after they had time to dry.
I am here to report we finally made it inside Biosphere 2, the world-renowned, self-enclosed science station run by the University of Arizona near Tucson. You may recall that last year, my son and I saw the station, but only from the outside because we didn’t have time to wait for a tour. (We had to catch a plane home.)
Although we weren’t able to get a tour of the ocean “beach,” we did see it from above. As the sign says, it’s one of the largest research oceans, although it’s in bad shape. Acidification has killed the coral in it, and last time we visited, algae were creating problems.
We ducked through some small openings and walked down long cement corridors to get to the center of the South Lung. A water reservoir stands in the middle of the lung, covered by a hugely heavy metal plate that’s attached to a rubber membrane from the ceiling, which our tour guide said is made from the same rubber as Zodiac boats. The plate falls or rises in response to pressure changes. Legs on the bottom of the plate keep it from crashing into the floor as pressure drops. The plate is reminiscent of a flying saucer. The lung looks like a great setting for a creepy fiction story. Hmmmmm.
