Take a look at our historic state stamp winner 2008. There on the lower left tucked away between the Interstate Bridge, The Marine Art Museum, the railroad, and the barges now transporting silica sand is what my best friend and I call the spot, Frog Slough. She lived there in a boathouse when I moved to Winona in 1970. You could only access it by car from the west side then. The road was a sand pile that protected the city from flooding. Only adventurous drivers dared enter the narrow stretch that required a three-point turn around upon departure. Woods protected us from the city. You entered a special place literally minutes after passing the houses filled with daily routines. It was instantaneous peace and quiet. No one bothered you at Frog Slough.
The Slough was a boathouse community filled with interesting people in 1970. Over the years encroachers have taken their toll on the area. The Army Corp of Engineers and the city removed the woods and built River Road. Semi trucks now have a route that doesn’t pass the houses filled with daily routines. Part of the shore was sold and boathouse owners were told to get out. Many moved to Latch Island. Only a few brave souls stayed waiting for the confrontation. It never came. Peace and quiet along the Mississippi remained.
Frog Slough will always be a place of magic for my best friend and me. I was sitting lazily on shore in the area still filled with trees looking east one day. I tried to make out what was coming around the point. Slowly, like the rhythm of the water into view chugged the Delta Queen with her steam engine and red paddle wheel. A calliope then greeted her from the levee. Magic, what else can I say?
I was living there myself in the mid 1980′s. The river had gotten unusually high and the old shack needed attention everyday. The ropes keeping her on the shore were tied off to the guardrail along River Road. They needed adjustment several times a day. One night after dark I heard splashing noises but saw no one near the shore or boathouse. A few days later I was having coffee on the front porch and again heard the noise. Being a Windy City girl, transported to the river, I still had a bit of urban thinking left. Noise….I thought people. Another splash was heard, and then to my amazement, I spotted the beaver. High water had brought us both to Frog Slough.
There is nothing quite like making the acquaintance of river ice. My friend and I have laughed often about how pleasant it is when you can walk around the yard at the Slough. As many Minnesotans know, there is an art to getting to know ice. Hopefully, trial and error will be on your side and you will not have to experience the meanness that often comes with beauty. One winter as we ice walked we both saw something rolling at us at quite a clip and as we were questioning one another we momentarily disappeared from each others sight. With hearts pounding the mist moved past us and down river. She replied, “Saint Cloud, I guess.”
My brother came to help us with repairs during the season of no ice. I tied my hammer to my belt loop and suggested he do the same. I told him nearly everyone drops their first hammer in the Slough. He was confident that would not be the case for him. I explained that you just lay it down to pick something else up and it’s gone. He sent me for another 2×4 and as I stepped off the boat. I heard plop. Needless, to say he lost his first hammer in the yard! I gave him mine to tie to his belt.
The most magnificent part of the Slough is the lighting. There is no better place to view the comings and goings of the day. No matter what you are doing the changing reflections in the Slough will make you stop, breath in, exhale and know this world, this life, this day, this moment are given to you as a gift and you are lucky.
If you drive by and see two old ladies sitting by the shore on the side of the road, there is no reason for concern. If you are not drawn to river and speeding by Frog Slough at 45 miles per hour in a 40, stop and look for a hammer. I know they are there.
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“Frog Slough” Boathouses
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