Dipping our toes in to Midwest Music Fest 2013

Midwest Music Fest feels like ages ago now but I didn't want to miss posting about this fantastic festival in nearby Winona, MN.  With family commitments and a busy weekend ahead of us, we only made it to a few shows but it was well worth the effort. My husband and I started at the Acoustic Cafe for Mike Munson's show.  Mike is referred to as an "afficianado of the blues".  I have to confess my lukewarm interest in blues music but I love Mike's music. He has great vocals and just a nice, cool style about him. A perfect way to start the fest in a busy, homey cafe with a lot of attentive adults mixed with little kids running around dancing.

    His guitar case offstage caught my eye. I'd love to do a photo montage of 

musician's guitar cases.  

So onward we walked to Ed's No-Name Bar.

I do love the Midwest Music Fest theme: Where music and community meet. The music brings the community together and all those who love live music come out and revel in the good sounds all over town.

Caroline Smith and the Goodnight Sleeps

And then we walked over to the Masonic Temple and listened to The Pines.
The lead singers are David Huckfelt and Benson Ramsey, Bo Ramsey's son.

David opened their show by saying how excited they were to play at the Masonic because they loved haunted places. And that is the best way to describe their music. Haunted. I had goose bumps.

We didn't see as much of you this year, Midwest Music Fest, but we love you all the same. Keep it up. You're doing it.

A Trip to the Country

"We're going to the Amish breakfast tomorrow at 7 a.m.," said our friend Larry as we stood drinking beer and listening to music after my bedtime.  "Not me," I said.  Sleeping in has become my favorite thing about the weekend. And 7 a.m. sounded so early as we talked with friends, the night descended and the music swelled. When I woke up the next morning, the first thing I thought about were the homemade Amish doughnuts Larry talked about.  Larry came and picked us up and we were off to the country.

Blair-Etterick has one of the older, smaller Amish communities. The Wisconsin Amish presence has become the fourth largest in the country after Pennsylvania, Ohio and Indiana. As we entered the breakfast hall, it seemed like we were going to need a secret password. This was a very insider affair.

It was so warm, Mike's glasses steamed up as we walked inside. I instanly felt very young, looking at the older and elderly crowd. There wasn't an empty seat in the little space.

There were cheese curds, sausages, eggs, thick honey and maple syrup and doughnuts.

We sat down next to Elmer Petersen, a big-deal sculptor who lives in the area.  He's responsible for among other things, Eagle Sculpture in Riverside Park and La Crosse Players in Harborview Plaza in La Crosse.  The Amish people were so hospitable and kept coming around with more food.  They host these breakfasts every couple of months and ask merely for a donation.

We walked out over the wintery April Wisconsin landscape. The thing about an Amish breakfast is, you have to eat and then move. You can't sit down or you'll fall asleep.

We went for a hike with the dogs.

Hamlet decided to eat something nasty and vomited twice on the way home. Good times.

We visited with some cows.

We checked out our friend's basketball barn.

And we headed home. This is April in Wisconsin.

But I didn't even care for that day. We ate breakfast with the Amish people. We talked to interesting people, nice people. We hiked in the cool, fresh air with the dogs.
Sometimes you just have to embrace it.

Winter Camping in the Refuge, Goose Island

My husband and I like to do a lot of outdoor activities together.  Winter camping isn't one of them. Along came Larry. Larry, Mike's sidekick, is game for just about anything.  I generally show up at some point to hang out, take some photographs and then escape to a warmer, safer place. Let the high jinx ensue. So when the temperatures were dipping down into the single digits, they were in their zero degree bags, happy as can be.  I was at home in bed, happy as can be.

The sun was just starting to dip when I arrived.

Goose Island is on the Mississippi River, in the middle of the Upper Mississippi National Wildlife Refuge.  All you can see are woods, a bluffline and the river stretching out in front of you.

Here's my White Fang shot.

The refuge is 261 miles long.

It begins at the Chippewa River near Wabasha, Minnesota and ends near Rock Island, Illinois, spanning four states.

At the campsite with Larry and another recruit, Tripp.

Hey, they're multiplying. Larry met Joe, on the left, in the parking lot and invited him out to the campsite. True story. Joe was wearing a lightweight wool coat and Puma tennis shoes. He might not have had socks on. He did not camp overnite.

There are over 400 camp sites at Goose Island.  There isn't much competition in early March.

Mike staked out this hovel where they ended up building a campfire and hanging out.

They lived through the night. My husband told me the next day that Tripp fell through the ice. They had gone for a walk the next morning. The sun was shining, warming up the ice and there was a crack in the ice from a tree. As they were noticing this, crack, and Tripp is thigh deep in water. I'm gasping as he's relaying this to me. 

Me: "So he went straight home, I assume?"  

Mike: "No. We walked back to the camp site and he dried everything in front of the fire."

Winter camping is not for wussies.

Escape to Minneapolis

We packed our bags packed, dropped off our dog and sped down the highway with our Guthrie tickets burning a hole in our pocket.  The snow is falling heavily.  As we continue to drive up Highway 61, we realize the drive will not be our usual quick scoot up to Minneapolis. The roads are slippery.  We slip and slide all the way into the city, my husband gripping the wheel and finally steering us to our hotel. We walk into our hotel room, do a quick and happy scan of the simple, modern cool furnishings and make a quick game plan. There would be no more driving so it came down to how far we were going to walk in a snowstorm.  We put on all of our layers and started forging through the freshly fallen, very messy, very pretty snow-covered sidewalks.

 The snow had fallen so fast that there were city snowblowers cruising all around us as we walked.

The snow and ice took lead roles in our winter, urban getaway.  As tired of winter as I am, the fluffy whiteness tempted me out of the wintertime blues.

Our hotel was right by the Guthrie theatre in the Mill District of downtown Minneapolis. Old renovated industrial buildings sit atop the banks of the Mississippi River. This neighborhood couldn't be more scenic.  Every road trip we take, I imagine us living there...the west side of Madison by the zoo in one of those cute, quaint neighborhoods, a Northwoods life in Hayward, WI, an urban existence in Chicago or Minneapolis eating lots of ethnic food and seeing great music every weekend. I eyed the rehabbed condos with wintery evergreen arrangements in big colorful pots, imagining us living in one of them.

We finally made our way to the North Loop area and a very subtle-looking restaurant. We found it with the help of Yelp, Google Maps and a couple of guys pointing to the front door of this quiet-looking place we were standing 10 feet away from.  We had arrived at The Bachelor Farmer wet, tired and hungry.

You gotta love a place that serves whiskey at brunch. 

This was the best breakfast I've ever had.  The hollandaise was actually light and the vinegar cabbage was a really good contrast with the pork.

So we inhaled our breakfast and then walked the streets.

This retail display at Martin Patrick 3 made me want to move into the store.

  They sold retro decor, $45 candles that smelled like the best vacation you've ever been on, cologne in vintage bottles, very Mad Men style.

We went to see Other Desert Cities at The Guthrie. It was a great play with a set design that featured a rain storm.  We were in the third row and you could feel the humidity. The Guthrie has three stages, bars and cafes around every corner, and a cantilevered bridge that juts out above the Mississippi. This is the view from one of the little 2nd floor bars.

We walked the city a little more the next day.

 Here's the view of the Guthrie, in the background, from the other side of the river.

A little warmup at Wilde Roast Cafe.

And we took our frozen selves home.

Great films riverside at the Frozen River Film Festival

I watch the icy river roll by my window as we wind our way up Highway 61 to Winona.  Icicles hang off of the bluffs. The brown, snowless landscape just looks stark and barren.  We turn at Sugar Loaf Bluff and chug along toward Winona State University. Covered in goose down, we climb out of our warm little car.  Every breath hangs in front of us. I imagine myself sitting in Blue Heron, a steaming cup of coffee in front of me. It is always arctic cold when we head up to the Frozen River Film Festival. With over 50 documentaries airing over the course of 7 days, the film festival topics stretch from Shakespeare to melting glaciers to eco ninjas. Cozy chairs, warm & tasty food and a great film were on our agenda as we wandered in from the cold.

My little niece coming up the stairs. She was proud of herself for making it to the top. 

She said, "I come  up."

We watched a fantastic film, looked at the exhibits, had some lunch and went for a walk by the 

frozen river.

We'll be back next year, Frozen River. Next time we'll buy a weekend pass, stay over and take advantage of your incredible documentary offerings.  To see the diverse line-up of films, check out the FRFF film schedule.