Thursday, 3 November 2011
Finding American Pickers
Our “early fall” trip abroad arrived late this year, we just recently came home. Lisa and I, Jeanette Walseth and Teresa Hibbert had decided on something different this year; we would journey to Antique Archeology in Leclaire, Iowa. Antique Archeology is home to the History Channel series, “American Pickers” and prides itself on finding rusty gold in the barns and sheds across America.
I was always underestimate the commitment needed to drive to these far-off locations. Leclaire, Iowa is a town of about 3800 people and sits about 170 miles west of Chicago, Illinois. Our journey lead us through some beautiful farm land in Iowa and also to some places we did not belong. Davenport, Iowa is close to Leclaire and so we thought we'd “explore” it's downtown-an area where we find most antique stores. Downtown Davenport does not feature many antique stores and does not have that bright, glistening, performance-ready look that would land it on the web page of the Davenport Chamber of Commerce. We found one antique store, the owner was very nice but my suggestion that someone other than myself drive was impetus enough to convince our group that we should leave.
An evening drive through St Paul during Halloween is just the thing to get the blood pumping. I would recommend it to-no one, absolutely no one. We got lost passing through the cities on our return trip. At one low point I considered telling Lisa (much like “Hawkeye” in “Last of the Mohicans”) that she should “stay alive no matters what occurs-I will find you” then abandon the vehicle and run for cover. Instead we watched the vehicle compass and kept the it headed north or west and finally found an entrance to I-35 east. Never has a road sign so relieved my anxiety, I would have gladly gone back to Leclaire and started again to avoid this situation.
Okay so we arrived at “Antique Archeology” on the Sunday before Halloween. The building is much smaller than I'd imagined and appears to be an old gasoline station. Neither Mike Wolfe or Frank Fritz (main characters of American Pickers) were at the store that day. We did overhear the attendant call Mike Wolfe about a price on an old Pepsi sign but that was the extent of our contact. The prices were at the store were not as bad as you might think, although we purchased very little. We did recognize a few items purchased on the show that were for sale at the store; a Harley Davidson motorcycle, an Indian cycle and Laurel and Hardy masks. Danielle Colby Cushman was not at the store that day either, I suppose everyone needs a day off. Antique Archeology also has a store in Nashville, Tennessee.
It was a good trip, I ate too much and didn't drink quite enough beer but it was still a good time. I got my fill of continental breakfasts and now know a little more about the fear Hansel and Gretel must have felt when lost in the woods. It was less about the trip and more about the friendship I share with the occupants of the vehicle as we chased across Iowa, finding American Pickers.
Posted by Grant Nelson
at 10:23 PM CDT
Thursday, 20 October 2011
Ten Days in October
Ten Days in October
I don't know what others do in October, I haul sugar beets. It is one of the consistent events in my life by which I can mark time. I wish to mark time now with the 2011 harvest.
I don't believe we lost any of our people from last year. We sometimes lose people to divorce or death but none of those sad things occurred this year. We did see one change as Joe Pierce liked the truck driving skills of Casey Francis so well that he decided to marry her. I see time march and change us all. Eddie Rosendahl and John Rehder drive the farm less while Mike Rosendahl and Joe Pierce take the helm more often. I have seen so many successful businesses and farms turned over to an ungrateful third generation which proceeds to cause its failure. John and Ed have “taken the boys to school” many times and they are so much further ahead of their counterparts for it. Joe and Mike are calm during breakdowns and patient when their truck drivers talk too much on the radio. I trust them in the field and trust them as men.
The “Tireboss” is new to me. The tireboss is a system which can set the pressure in a truck's tires to match the conditions upon which it travels. If we are on the highway, it sets the pressure at 100 pounds square inch (psi.) When we are in muddy or soft conditions in the field, the tireboss brings tire pressure down to 35 psi which allows the tires to have better flotation and traction. It looks like something made to break down, however I've come to see it as quite durable. It reminds me of the systems they used on the old World War II amphibious Duck truck. Another piece of equipment are two six wheel drive trucks used by McGregor farms. They look like standard issue for any post-apocalyptic road warrior but I bet they're a good ally in the mud. I like watching these huge trucks majestically trundle down the gravel road in a shroud of dust.
The Warren piler station added another generation this season. Tom Yutrzenka has run the station for many years and this year brought his grand-daughter, Amanda. The scale house is the “kitchen” of the piler station and can be pretty busy as it is the only place to get coffee and it is heated. Amanda handled her tasks very well and was really pleasant. The people who work at the stations spend twelve hours on concrete, in the cold and should be recognized for their hard work.
Mike Rosendahl runs harvester during my shift and uses hand signals to direct the trucks as they become full of sugar beets. He was enjoying a special version of “Mountain Dew,” made from pure beet sugar and asked me if I'd ever tried it. I saw my chance to cause mild trouble and so answered that I “only enjoyed pure, natural corn syrup-based soda.” Saying this to a Valley farmer is like swearing in church and I wasn't surprised when Mike added a new hand signal to his repertoire-just for me.
This was an especially condensed, intense harvest. I was really tired this year and sometimes wished it was over. I had to remind myself that the times people most often remember are the tough times so you should make the best of them as those will be your memories. I know one day we all will be old, maybe in a retirement home, living alone or just bored; then remember Harvest, 2011 and our ten days in October.
Posted by Grant Nelson
at 11:41 AM CDT
Updated: Thursday, 20 October 2011 11:48 AM CDT
Wednesday, 12 October 2011
Letter to Dave
If I trail off and leave only zzzzz's in the middle of a sentence it is because today was the first full day of the sugar beet harvest. Beet harvest is as close as I can come to a good reason to get out of bed at 1:45 in the morning, however there exists no truly good reason to commit this sleep crime.
During the harvest, I must always align my truck with a pipe that hangs from the conveyer which loads the sugar beets into my truck. That pipe is my whole world until harvest reaches a conclusion. I will try to find it in the dark and in the glare of mid-day sun and try to never lose track of it's relationship to me.
I work for R and R Farms near Warren, Minnesota. They have already completed all other harvests which means there's lots of hands to help. It is a good thing because most people who use their vacation time for harvest plan for the first two weeks of October. I've heard that some folks have to go back to their regular jobs as we have typically finished harvest by now-and it's really our first day, Dave.
It was nice seeing you and Mary for the wedding of our nephew, Derik Nelson. He and Nan created a sincere and happy day in which we could all participate. Lisa and I spent a few days in October watching Ana Hibbert and Adam Tongen find the bliss of sharing a same last name. Lisa and I have joked with Ana's mom that we should receive a goat as payment for introducing Ana and Adam. The joke was on us at the groom's supper when payment was presented in all it's furry and cloven-hooved glory. I felt an immediate sense of dread brought on by the thought of goat-parenthood but soon realized this an event created only in an effort to demonstrate how my face appeared when I felt my world was coming to an end. The goat went home to it's owner and next time we play cupid we'll just ask for an invitation to the wedding or a simple hand shake.
Harvest is soon done around here, Dave. Some of the corn has been combined although I believe many await the corn to shed some moisture so they can avoid the expense of extensive drying. Our nephew, Jamie, has been trying to combine sunflowers and I haven't seen standing beans for at least a week. Our farmers are now participating in a favorite fall sport-ditching their fields. There's also more drain tile being plowed into the ground, I suspect people are trying to get more production from the land they own as opposed to purchasing increasingly-costly crop land. I've heard some crazy land prices in our area recently, I hope those prices are based on a something other than the sweet emotion of the last decade's commodity prices. I remember the late seventies/early eighties and all the long faces when prices fell and they had to give back all of that high-priced and highly-leveraged land.
Wow, I'm a bummer. I'm sure everything will be fine. (that tune you hear is whistling in the dark)
you're little bro
Posted by Grant Nelson
at 6:42 PM CDT
Thursday, 6 October 2011
my brother, Steve
I am going to talk about my brothers over the next few months. I will drop one column about each of them every few weeks or so in between columns about the sugar beet harvest, farming and life.
I won the Punt, Pass and Kick competition when I was eight years old. This is not a completely true statement in that I was probably the best-coached child who had ever entered that competition back in the seventies-my brother Steve and I won the competition.
Steve is the brother who owns Town and Country Meats in Newfolden. Steve was a really good athlete and pretty cerebral about how to play sports. He suggested I enter the PP&K competition and then coached me daily on being proficient in each phase of the event.
The proper traditional kicking technique from a tee is to approach the ball from three to five steps back , stay focused on the ball, head down and kick the ball square with a pendulum motion-the knee being the fulcrum. It's like hitting a baseball-you have to just meet ball and let it do the work. If you try to kick too hard, you will have no control and most likely shank it to the same side as the leg which you chose to kick. I did really well during the punt and pass portion of PP&K however my kick really kicked-well you know what I kicked. I am still a disciplined kicker which was ingrained by all that effort from Steve.
My first real movie was also in the company of my brother Steve. The world still stops for me every time “the Electric Horseman” is broadcast on television. Robert Redford, Willie Nelson and Timothy Scott (who later acted in “Lonesome Dove”) starred in this movie about a former cowboy, turned cereal spokesman, who decides to free a horse owned by a corporation which keeps it drugged to stay calm during stage shows. It is a fantastic movie and played to my love of animals, the outdoors, freedom and country music.
Anyway, Steve and I had planned to attend a different movie but it was rated “R” and I was still too young. We instead attended “the Horseman” and created a memory that I still visit each time I watch Redford free that horse into the wilds of Utah on the tube. I'm sure we went to “Paradiso” for dinner that night but I can't say for sure. It was a good time.
I think my time as a youth with Steve formed my basis for a relationship with Steve's son, Jamie. When I was the older one, I took Jamie to rodeos and somewhere to eat until he reached a point when he could drive himself with friends. It is the sort of example started by Steve that now visits itself on Jamie's two little boys when they spend time together.
I recently called Steve about hauling two steers to him for processing. Steve is incredibly busy but he knows I am the same and needed to get these steers gone. Anyway, when asked about the steers he put his convenience aside said “bring 'em.” Football technique coach and cattle processing expeditor; that's my brother Steve.
Posted by Grant Nelson
at 11:59 AM CDT
Thursday, 29 September 2011
I last watched the Minnesota Vikings in the late eighties. I could
take the crushing defeats but could not stand the heightened
expectations that some good games seemed to encourage. I knew that the euphoria known to a Vikings fan in good times came with a
hangover caused by the reality of a team that must be perfect to be
good. They had to fire on all eight cylinders to compete with all of
the other teams equipped with 12 cylinder power plants.
It started in the seventies. I knew all of the team players and knew
which position I wanted to play when eventually I would join the
team. My dream was to become a “Purple People Eater” and step into the defensive tackle position when Alan Page retired. I kept football cards and would line up dream teams to include players from other teams and Viking favorites. I was crushed when Roger Staubach connected a “hail Mary” pass to Drew Pearson to defeat the Viking in the 1975 playoffs. The terrible disappointment made me want to go outside and replay the game with my brothers or friends until I could change the outcome; like a person dealing with post-traumatic stress disorder.
The more I played football as a teenager, the less the Vikings could
hurt me. After I had no team to play on anymore, I came to depend on
them more which made it easier for them to disappoint me more. I’m
not sure when I quit watching the Vikings but I do know that my
Herschel Walker shirt eventually became my work-out shirt and
then died from ripped seams and holes.
I started watching the Vikings when Brett Favre became number four in purple. I felt he played like my old favorites; Fran Tarkenton, Ken
Stabler or Terry Bradshaw. He made things happen and wasn’t afraid to ad lib when careful play calling failed. I watched the NFC
championship game with my nephew that night and felt all the old
trauma as time and again the New Orleans Saints slipped through the Vikings offensive line like jello through five fingers of offensive linemen. We watched the game at a bar so I had to listen to a
bunch of Louisiana pipeline workers hoot and holler their pleasure at
the Vikings loss like they had just been chosen to appear on an
episode of “Hillbilly Handfishin’.”
So far the Vikings have played three solid halves of football in three games; the kind of output that rewards them with a record of 0-3. I like Donavan Mcnabb at quarterback and Toby Gerhardt is fun to watch out of the backfield. Jared Allen is the kind of gamebreaker that can change the momentum of any game. He almost did so last week when he narrowly missed tackling a Detroit Lions running back in his own end zone for a safety.
I don't plan on stapling football cards to a tagboard nor can I interest Lisa in replaying games out in the yard. I do plan to watch the Vikings for the rest of the year. I just love the ups incurred in the first half and the taste of metal I get in my mouth (happens when I get angry) during the downs of the second half. Anyway, it's a nice way to spend Sunday afternoon; you know, on the couch-asleep due to a chips and salsa coma.
Posted by Grant Nelson
at 1:58 PM CDT
Thursday, 22 September 2011
Finally, someone said it. I was listening to a talk show about weather when a caller made mention that the term “Northern Minnesota” is often used incorrectly. I've noticed it myself on statewide weather forecasts and in conversations with people who are not from northern Minnesota who claim this heritage-kind of like the guy who buys a used Army jacket and claims to have once been a sergeant.
First off, I give my location based on distance from North Dakota and Canada and prefer to say I am from northwest Minnesota; it just seems a more accurate statement. Northern Minnesota could be anywhere from East Grand Forks to International Falls and onto Grand Marais while northwest Minnesota is...us.
I almost get a little rush when people from St Cloud claim the be northern Minnesotan. I've heard the joke that the Minnesota state legislature regards St Cloud as the northern edge of Minnesota because of our light representation due to lower population. We are a political area seen by some of the elected as southern Manitoba or eastern North Dakota. Being of northern descent, I've learned that you take the good with the bad based on climate. We seem to get more cold weather but have avoided the huge amounts of snow and rain that folks in the Moorhead, Alexandria, Breckenridge area receive. However, we also have fewer trees (higher-priced ag land is even eliminating shelter-belts) which means the wind blows harder at least until you get out more to the Grygla area. If I am going to own the pain of northern Minnesota wind chill then I don't want others to claim their character has been forged by the same harsh climates that makes tough northerners when the reality is that they watch our battle from the warmer sidelines.
I would never want to create hard feelings or competition but I would break down northern Minnesota into several micro-geographies. The Highway Two corridor ranges anywhere from the Pine to Prairie land out near Fosston and Lengby to the cold, barren snow-blindness-inducing tundra along Highway 75. Actually if you follow Highway two as far as Duluth you are still in northern Minnesota but into a subdivision of hockey and taconite pellets called “the Range.” If you follow Highway 59 too far south you'll eventually exit true north in exchange for “Lakes area.” Here is where you should be on the look-out for lots of people who have recently retired from a job in the tech industry, decided to open an antique store, wear a fedora or golf hat and “find themselves” while engaging in meaningful discussions with the local coffee shop barista. Hallock, Lake Bronson, Kennedy etc are “deep North” and protect us from invasion by Canada (unless they are here to spend money-then please invade away.)
Maybe my northern pride flared after the recent cold snap prior to impending winter. Kind of like a slap to the head before a football game that makes you believe the pain is normal and even constructive. Maybe I just like being from southern Manitoba or eastern North Dakota or whatever this land is named. I know we will soon have a chance to earn our legend and pride again as the wind, cold and snow on the fourth season is right around the corner.
Posted by Grant Nelson
at 12:50 PM CDT
Here's what happens when I clear everything out of my mental pantry and serve it. GN
First off, we celebrated our anniversary this week. My mind was
otherwise occupied when I felt panic; had I missed our anniversary? I
realized the nine year milestone was the next day and ordered flowers
directly in proportion to my heightened emotions (anxiety mixed with
fear and love.) That night I casually mentioned to Lisa of our
impending anniversary and she immediately told me I didn’t have to
get her flowers this year. (Note to young men, that means get her
flowers) Anyway, I told her that I had already ordered flowers for
her but that if she wanted, I could keep the receipt and she could
reimburse me at her convenience. My black eye should soon heal.
We closed up the garden this week. Lisa does most of the gardening
however I helped her evacuate the remaining tomatoes and peppers
prior this week’s frost. We picked a lot and left the rest-some too
tiny to ripen or otherwise unusable. It reminded me of culling cattle
for shipping however I don’t have the emotional attachment with
habanera peppers that I do with heifers and steers. I feel like our
farm is a great place for cattle and I get a little guilty when I
send them away. Lisa can always tell something is bothering me after
the steers and I part company.
We did a little pre-pile of the sugar beet harvest this week. It was
nice to see the boys at R and R farms and eat cold, single-serving
beans while I wait in line. Now, I have written about the harvest for
about a decade so there are lots of my stories that exist on the
internet. I have now begun receiving emails from people angry at me
because-well I do know about what they are angry. One left me a
comment that I don’t realize how hard people in the MY sugar beet
processing facilities work-apparently I recently took ownership of
American Crystal Sugar. Considering I drive a pick-up worth about
$1000 and use most of my vacation time for the honor of participating
in the harvest, it is amazing that people perceive me to be an executive
at Crystal Sugar-I don't even own a suit.
We started feeding and watering birds again this week. We purchased a
bird waterer this summer that is easy to maintain and clean. It is
basically an upside down bottle that feeds into four little troughs
that are kept about ½ inch full of water. You can hang it where you’d
normally hang a bird feeder and I’ve only cleaned it about four times
Finally, Lisa and I are on the marriage tour again this week-end. My
nephew, Derik Nelson will join with Nan Pietruszewski (man that made
my spell checker pop) in marriage. Lisa and I liked Nan from the
start and we tolerate Derik so they should make a nice couple. Truth
is I’ve never loved an insurance salesman as much I do Derik, he’s a
good man and a great nephew; he and Nan will be a happy couple.
Posted by Grant Nelson
at 12:48 PM CDT
Thursday, 8 September 2011
Working Man's Phd
I've never understood higher education. My high school teachers always told me I should go to college and get a degree. A degree? I wanted a life and a job that I enjoyed. I wanted to either be a mechanic or work in radio but was told to go to college, not for a reason or to further my aspirations or really any reason. It was like I was being told to “go west, young man” even thought they had no idea what I would do when I arrived “out west” nor did they care that I was happy were I was.
Education is a great thing, it's always good to learn more about the world. The problem is that each credit is so expensive that formal education should have a goal-like a job to pay back the loan for those expensive credits. I think the days of wandering through paths bordered in ivy-covered fence and being a “student of the world” (that made my gag reflex activate) are gone. Days of being a professional student died somewhere in the early part of the last decade and education must be a tool for success, not just a vague journey that ends in some sort of state-certified and transferable “enlightenment.”
I always hear people use the phrase, “work smarter, not harder.” Well here's the deal, you have to do both. Also there is no shame in working harder, it's how the happy places in this world were built. There is some sort of mythical place were students are told they will arrive at post, post-secondary where they will always find a “living-wage” and never have to work harder. This is a falsehood. If you question this last sentence, please go talk to the person who earned a degree and now works on their feet somewhere they earn barely enough to cover their student loan and cares not for the fact they are a student of the world.
I believe tech schools are the best place for many students. I wish I'd gone straight to one myself after high school. In a recent article in Parade magazine, a reported 450,000 openings exists for skilled labor. Plumbers, electricians, bricklayers, cooks, mechanics, etc-jobs unfilled, at least in part, due to students who have skills more related to educational rather than vocational goals. I realize we live in a world that involves a lot of technology, however all of that technology lives within a world built by skills which have existed since the Romans. We still need skilled labor as it cannot be outsourced plus there is such a vacuum of it now-more nationally than locally but still very needed.
If you are in college right now congratulations. If you are there with a specific job in mind then CONGRATULATIONS! If your major is “unspecified” then I would cast aside every other consideration and decide what you're good at or fires your passion and pursue it with intensity and focus. A college degree is a fantastic achievement. However, I would say that being in your mid to late twenties and being able to support yourself without constant, advanced life support from your parents is an even better one.
Posted by Grant Nelson
at 12:19 PM CDT
Friday, 2 September 2011
Letter to Dave
I’d like to express my feelings for what currently occupies the
recycle bin of my computer-current affairs that deserve to leave
nothing of themselves except a streak in the toilet bowl. First off
would be the people who complain when Hurricane warnings precede a
storm that isn’t as bad as initially thought. Any Hurricane is
something like the finger of God in strength. If that finger had a
little arthritis this time and was not as strong as predicted, then
be thankful: perhaps the next warning will save your life. Another
fantastic candidate for a good flush is the defense in a local murder
trial in which they allege fear of police is a mitigating factor in
shooting a police officer three times. People don’t fear the police;
they fear justice. It’s like when you’re a child-fear of parental
discipline is the road you walk until you arrive at a place where
you’ve matured and start doing right based on your own good
character. You don’t get to punch mom and dad for making you do right
and you can’t shoot cops who enforce the law that we create. If we
allow the criminal to decide how much justice he or she will accept
then justice will wither and die.
Enough of that, let’s talk weather, Dave. Your recent report is that
Carrington, North Dakota has received approximately 25 inches of
rain in August while other areas close by have right around that
amount. This excess has made your harvest very difficult as evidenced
by local farmers removing tires from their combines and replacing
them with tracks. You explained to me the reason for this is that
tracks exert about ¼ the force on muddy ground as do 20.8 x 42 duals.
Dave, I’m glad you and Erickson Implement were able to help farmers
in central North Dakota by being a major supplier of combine tracks.
The last statistics show you’ve sold 17 sets of tracks while others
suppliers in the area have a combined total of 38 tracks sold at a
price of 59,000 to 70,000. It’s just nice that commodity prices are
high enough to justify extreme harvesting. We are dealing with
water’s excess around here too. There is a large drainage project on
a half section near our farm right now. I have been riding the
‘wheeler down to watch construction but am following our dad’s law in
that I am not getting in the way.
I had a little company this week, Dave. Mark Hayek from NRCS and Tim
Szymanski stopped by for a pasture walk and some cattle talk. I often
feel like I am a Martian among Earthlings when I speak of “grass fed”
or “grass-finished” beef cattle. It was nice to have a couple of guys
visit who speak my brogue. The visit really lit a fire under me as
there are certain techniques such as bale grazing which I’ve wanted
to try and I just needed a little encouragement. The visit really
helped me decide to go for it; it’s sometimes like I already possess
the golden egg but just need a little boost to hatch it.
Anyway, we had three inches of rain here last night so I feel the
pain of rain. I hope your harvest wraps up successfully and you sell
lots of tracks.
Your little bro’
Posted by Grant Nelson
at 10:00 AM CDT
Thursday, 25 August 2011
Falls Stay and Play
There exists a sport that has almost no potential for failure, occupies a decent amount of time and successful participants can typically entertain a cool one while they play; it is miniature golf. I used to play miniature golf any chance I could because, I too, enjoy the occasional cold one and even though I am horrible on a standard golf course, I putt like thunder in a blizzard.
I've heard there once existed a miniature golf course at the Evergreen Eating Emporium when it was called the T-N-T. Crookston had a little course behind the Dairy Queen but I believe that no longer exists. Thief River Falls has long needed a golf course for those of us who do not wish to appear in the newspaper, with our golf buddies watching intently from the background, as we putt for par. We now have it; it is called the “Falls Stay and Play” miniature golf course.
Falls Stay and Play co-joins Petro Pumper with its neighboring campground. Pat and Nancy Gerszewski (I never know how to spell that name so I just keep adding consonants until it looks right) built Petro Pumper in 1994 and have continued to re-build right up through the current golf course. Lisa and I stopped by to view the course last Sunday and the Gerszewski's were hosting family and friends prior to the grand opening. Pat invited us to play but we were just there to look-and there is much at which to look.
I would call Falls Stay and Play a, “Wisconsin Dells” type of miniature course. It has many different levels and four separate water features. In an homage to its hometown, which is where the Red Lake river and Thief River join, the course has two waterways which which become an integral part of the course. It is so peaceful and lovely that your “mad puttin' skills” may be eclipsed by the simple beauty of water and the natural urge for humans to ascend and descend. Hole number six even plays into the river as the ball floats downstream to a grate which catches the ball and puts it back into play. The course favorite is the figure eight/over and under which I imagine is a test for the most serious miniature golfer (a contradiction in terms.)
Pat Gerszewski told me construction began with some dirt work in the Fall of 2010. Ernest construction began June 1st and consisted of approximately 180 yards of concrete and eight tractor-trailer loads of paver and retaining wall block. A consultant from Wyoming was hired to construct each hole and set elevations, after which it was mostly local back labor and steel which completed the construction. I asked Pat how many man-hours were invested in this project which I gather was similar to asking how many stars are in the sky (yeah-a lot.) Centuries from now, archaeologists will find the ruins of this course and wonder how we primitive humans could have built such a mammoth structure-they'll probably suggest we were aided by beings from another planet.
Falls Stay and Play reminds of those great, eye-catching, signs in front of truck stops-which works out because it is right beside a truck stop. It started when Pat wanted a simple water feature to catch the attention of travelers and then grew exponentially from that point. It also serves to make the campground into more of a destination instead of just somewhere to sleep. Gerszewski has plans for even more features which may include a golf-cart track with quiet, electric cars so campers can enjoy the serene surroundings.
The course is handicapped accessible and has senior discounts. All are welcome and at only $7 for adults and $5 for kids, all can afford it-and all are welcome.
Posted by Grant Nelson
at 12:16 PM CDT
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