After visiting The Coffee Shop, and the Milltown Bike Shop next door in Faribault (pronounced Fair-boh, for those not familiar with Minnesota’s history with French-Canadian fur traders in the 18th century), we ducked into the Faribault Woolen Mill store, but, alas, no mill leavings, only finished goods, so we traveled on.

Rather than wander aimlessly in the gloom (it didn’t rain on us today), we decided to show up in Jackson a day early, but first detoured west up the Minnesota River to New Ulm, a German settlement I had last visited in 1959, playing a gig for Polka Days with my band, “Der Wienerschnitzel.” I think their festival has been moved off the streets into a more contained space in these times, but it was pretty wild then. I didn’t remember much about the town, other than the free-flowing beer and meeting Whoopee John, the famous polka band leader, but this time, we found the architecture and area fascinating enough to plan a return trip on our way north next week.

On to Jackson. We arrived in time to check in and unpack before going downtown to meet my cousin and her husband and my aunt for a fund-raiser dinner at the American Legion. I didn’t have trouble finding the building, as my dad and I were in the Post 130 Drum and Bugle Corps in the late 1950s, and the building was still there. Of course, I was reminded of the $6 empty plate with trimmings I enjoyed at the Texas steakhouse last month: for me,  dinner consisted of a bare bun, carrots, celery, and some potato chips–pork loin and bacon (in the beans) are not vegetables, last I looked. I could lose a bit of weight touring in a part of the country where all the crops are animal feed and the animals are food, and where almost all dishes, even salads and vegetable sides, include parts of some species of beastie. On the way back to our lodging, we picked up an avocado and some yoghurt, so maybe not time for weight loss after all…