The St. Croix River
I’m not going to start with a mystical, magical picture of a place of mystery making you want to know where this Eden is. I’ll tell you, it’s the St. Croix River, but here within lies the problem. You may be able to get to the St. Croix but will you visit the same St. Croix that I do.
The St. Croix River is more than a geological position on the map. I grew up along the western Wisconsin and Eastern Minnesota riverbanks. It has become my stomping grounds. Every year I take an annual trip down the St. Croix. I have a hard time sleeping the night before I go on the canoe trip down the river. Just the thought of the river instantly transports me there. It sparks memories of past adventures and brings a smile to my face; the cool water flowing down river the occasional fish jumping out of the water. It doesn’t mater if I’m on the river or sitting on the patio of the restaurant along the shores, my worries wash down stream.
Our canoe trip is the apex of its genius loci. When we launch off the river banks we feel like a bunch of caged animals busting loose from the confines of the city. Nothing ties us down; we leave all watches and phones behind. Time transforms from hours to days and we become primitive indigenes of the river.