Mineral Point and the End of the Trail

Wyoming cowgirl boots ("Justins," which Tiffany described as a "good starter boot") on the cheap carpeting of a Mineral Point motel room; a fair summary of a glorious trip.

We have lived in Wisconsin for 27 years, but have spent very little time in the southwestern corner of the state, often called "the driftless region" (here's a chance to plug the wonderful novel Driftless by David Rhodes), so we decided to spend our final night in Mineral Point, often described as one of the most charming towns in the area. Unfortunately, Mineral Point has fallen upon hard times in the past few recessive years, so the downtown has many empty storefronts. Even more unfortunately, almost all of the restaurants have closed. Also unfortunately, most everything in Mineral Point closes on Mondays, shops and restaurants alike.

But God is good. We wandered into one of the few open galleries, and had an enjoyable visit with the owner/artist. And while we missed the final tour at Pendarvis, a Wisconsin Historical Society site focused on the Cornish lead miners

(their burrowings in the ground are what gave our state the nickname

"badgers"), we were able to take a stroll through one of the last remaining sections of original prairie in the state. But the greatest bit of good fortune was walking by a small bistro/cafe that has only been open a month just as the chef hung out the yellow "we're open tonight!" flag. An hour and a half later we were back for yet another of our "exquisite meals in unexpected places" experiences at Cafe Ellie in the Mineral Point Hotel (four rooms). They offer only three entrees each night (always including one that is vegetarian), salads made from local greens, well-selected organic wines and beers, and a bumbleberry pie that is to die for - what a great final meal on a great road trip! Two nights ago we got into one of those unresolvable debates about the Ten Best Meals we have eaten in forty years of marriage, and both agreed that the Corn Exchange in Rapid City, SD, belongs on that list. Who woulda thunk?

Many themes to ponder as we finish this trip. Among them:

1. Why did it take us so long to do the western tour?

2. How pleasant and manageable it was: about 3,700 miles in 13 days, but never more than 500 miles in a single day, all of it in a comfortable car that averaged over 41 mpg.

3. The balance of good advance planning (all reservations locked in before we left) and spontaneity (why not detour to spend some time at Devil's Tower?).

4. How helpful it was to travel with electronic companions: Della, our GPS (Perry Mason fans will understand her name); the smart phones (keeping emails cleaned up, handling work-related needs even while hiking in what appeared to be deep wilderness); the white-noise generator (a blessing in hotel/motel rooms) and the aging laptop upon which we have updated this blog.

5. The role of family history around John's grandmother, making our time in Cody/Yellowstone more meaningful.

6. The central role of long-term friendship, spending time with four sets of cherished, geographically-dispersed friends in Cody (Randy and Bev), Silverthorne (Dan and Donna), Colorado Springs (Rick and Cindy and their girls) and Des Moines (Michael and Catherine), which made it far more than a "see America's natural wonders" trip.

7. The usefulness of paper maps, in addition to Della. We had multiple individual maps, plus a US atlas, along with AAA books provided by some dear older friends who wanted to contribute to the trip (Della sometimes developed hissy-fits).

8. Reading one big book through much of the trip: Bury my Heart at Wounded Knee (the new illustrated edition, with additional essays, portraits of Indian leaders, maps, and pictures of Indian arts and crafts). It is a tale of great suffering and loss, as well as courage and resilience, and Susan read many passages to John as the miles passed.

9. We are still speaking to one another after all these days in the car together.

So, it is all good. Tomorrow will be about the final hours of driving, laundry, groceries, and returning to normal life. But The Road will now hold a greater allure, and we will be eager to return to it again.