It's day 469....its also August 17th 2020...and we are in North Branch Minnesota

It's day 469....its also August 17th 2020...and we are in North Branch Minnesota

Wow…we made it that 100 miles into North Branch today...a place I had lived for 4 years....and let me tell ya...38 years later....it brings a whole new meaning to the expression...."You Can't go back"

Well...you can....I did....but there's nothing here. Nothing I know.

The sleepy little farming community of about 1,200 people that I left behind in 1982...yea...gone...almost literally.....Including the house we lived in. The place I called home.

Those 20 acres....Farmhouse built in the late 1800's....surrounded by corn. The very corn fields we'd play hide and seek in during the summer....then strap a tobbagan to Taffi....my trusty buckskin mare....and race across once the snow flew....That place we...my cousins...little brother and I would spend hours exploring the attic...roof...and basement of that 80 year old farm house. Spend all summer running around barefoot....but when winter came...couldn't seem to find enough clothes to bundle up in....yea that place...it's gone....

Today, it’s part of the growing suburban sprawl...called Minneapolis—over 10,000 people live here now. There are subdivisions, strip malls, a golf course, and trendy bistros that serve more than just a meal—they serve a glimpse into how fast a community can transform

I spent hours driving around, hoping to find something familiar, some piece of the past to latch onto… But the landscape had changed. The fields that once stretched for miles are now filled with rows of homes, neatly manicured lawns, and commercial businesses.

There are glimpses...here and there...like the Peterson Mill...once the center of everything...the biggest and busiest of everything in town...unless you count the brand new high school...or Holiday Mart out near the Freeway....but today...it's still there....but nearly unrecognizable as as I sat on the park bench in the newly constructed park just beside it...and across from the street that bistro where I bought my sandwich.

I stopped in front of a construction site, where a guy was working on his new shop. He told me he was born in 1987, had lived in North Branch his whole life, and yet, he knew nothing of a 20 acre farm at the end of a dirt road...just 2 miles outside town.

But with his help.... and the landmarks I could still squeez from a 38 year old memory... we found the “general” area where our farm once stood.

As I stood there, watching contractors build what would soon be a senior living facility, adjacent to a massive Coke Bottling plant, and across from a new Chisago County Health Services Building... it all hit me. These places—the memories, the moments that once defined my world—are now part of a much larger, much faster-moving story.

But I kept going back...in my mind....to the summer afternoons that Taffi and I would saddle up...trot that quarter mile dirt driveway...cross the railroad tracks...and the two lane...and into the sod farms that once dominated the area...and I'd let her go....she loved to run...and I loved to let her. She carried me across the dirt roads that separated the patches of sode.....I'd lean in...hang on for dear life....the wind in my face....her head bobbing just below mine...all the way to that creek....where we'd swim....Taffi loved to swim too.

Leaving the construction site of that soon to be retirement home.....we found a brand new cul de sac....so new...all that was there....the paved roads, concrete sidewalks and curbs...and the power poles...looked like another 20 or so homes would be here in no time...and we parked....for some lunch...and some more memories....

The rush....of using the old hay loft pulleys in the hay barn.....to catapault ourselves from the top of the 10 high stack of hay bales at the back of the barn.....to the loft floor at the front. Had to get some fun outta the hay I had a personal hand in loading in just a few weeks before...in preparation for winter.

But it was still summer...so why not bust open the double doors on the hay barn...pile some hay on the ground some ten feet below....and then race from the back of the loft....and launch our 15 year old selves out of those doors in a desparate attempt to win...and land farthest away from the barn.

And the grain silo—oh, the grain silo—adjacent that haybarn....where friends and I would race to see who could could squeeze through one of the latch doors at the bottom....then climb the inside wall ladders....to the top....the fastest.

And the corn cribs...scattered here and there....another piece of a more distant past. Seems...according to grandpa...that these 4 x 8 pitched roof structures....skinnier at the bottom than they were at the top....were used to store corn husks back in the day....let em dry out before harvest....they sat empty when we got there...but were soon converted....personal fort sorta thing. LIkely never would have even considered such a thing had I'd know what I learned on that brisk November morning when Grandpa decided he wanted to move one...over to the side of the garage. we put some wood slides in front of it...hooked a chain to the Allis Chalmers tractor...and gave it a pull...yanked it up outta the dirt it had sat in for decades....and then ..... was crazy...the ground under it moved...

Rats...I'd never seen so many rats. Granpa laughed...from the safety of his tractor seat....I on the other hand....I think I mighta screamed like a little girl as I made the 3 foot leap from the moving ground beneath the corn crib....to the tractor just behind grandpa....but our two trusy companion pups....Brandy...and toots....they didn't run from the moving ground....they ran towards it....I'd never seen anything like it....that part of our California raised pups....excited....having fun....and rats flying through the air in every direction as the moving ground quickly disappeared out into the 20 acres of corn field.

I never did like rats...liked em even less now....and less yet when we had to deal with the rat infestation in our house the following year....whole different memory I guess.

Summer memories....but then winter came.

And lets just say that winter in Minnesota...and winter in California...where this kid was from...it's not the same....

Hard lessons to be learned....and probably why our very first winter there...I adopted that term..."Frozen Waste Land" It just...almost didn't seem real to me.

In my 15 years of existance prior to arrival in Minnesota....in California....I thought winter meant...put long pants on....and maybe a long sleeve shirt.... I owned one jacket...and it was a windbreaker...never got used.

But here....winter meant business. And I likely never could have been convinced...untill I experienced it myself....that if your running late at 6 am on a school day....so ya pull your favorite bib overalls outta the dryer a few minutes early...little damp....so what...gotta hit the bus stop a quarter mile up the drive on time....That your clothes will actually freeze in motion. They will litterally stop cooperating with you..like stop bending at the knees...before you even get to the bus stop. And nor would I have understood the sheer misery of the rest of that day....in damp clothes...they may have thawed out...but they never really dry out.

Or what about climbing into the pump house....in that sistern so you can check out how far down the frost line has gone. I was just too fascinated to learn that the actual earth was freezing .... the actual dirt..below us...was freezing...inch by inch....on a daily basis...to even consider being suspicious when my cousin dared me to touch my tongue to to the metal pole in the center of the sistern. Yea...how badly did that end....

It’s strange, standing in a place that once felt so familiar, only to realize it’s no longer yours. The past is a ghost, but it’s also a guide to understanding how places change. The physical, and the personal.

But I wanted to rewind...a little more even

And learn about how North Branch happened...way before I got here in 1977...and look back at it's roots.

North Branch, named for the nearby branch of the St. Croix River, first appeared on the map in the mid-1800s. The town grew around agriculture—crops, dairy, and livestock were the foundation of its economy. But North Branch wasn't just built on farms; it was a product of the railroads, too.

By the 1880s, the railroad had arrived, connecting North Branch to larger markets and opening the town to more people, and more opportunity. It wasn’t long before North Branch started seeing the type of growth that most small towns dream of.

By the early 1900s, North Branch had become a busy stop, a town of commerce and trade, built on the strength of its agricultural industry and the convenience of the rail lines.

But by the 1970s, things began to shift. Agriculture was no longer the primary driver of the economy. Folks started moving away from the area...which it seems...is about the time we got here....and apparently that shift...or trend continued...for only a few short years...after we left.

As I stood there in that newly developed area, the memory ...of our farm was still there...even if the farm itself wasn't...All those acres of corn....replaced...by suburban streets and storefronts. North Branch, like many towns across Minnesota, had shifted, from a rural outpost to a commuter town. The 1990s saw more residential development and a larger population. And by the early 2000s, North Branch began to be seen less as a farming community, and more as a suburb of Minneapolis—where people could live and work, but enjoy a quieter, more affordable lifestyle.

Today, North Branch is home to over 10,000 residents. It’s a town that’s not just surviving, but thriving in a way that many small towns dream of. The proximity to the Twin Cities has shaped it into a place where people from Minneapolis and St. Paul now come to escape the hustle, without losing their access to the cultural and economic opportunities the cities offer.

But history, as we know, is rarely linear. And while North Branch's rise in population is a sign of its success, it's not without its struggles. As it grows, so does the challenge of maintaining the small-town identity that made it so charming when I left. How do you keep the heart of a town intact when the landscape changes? When the buildings rise, and the cornfields fall.

As I stood there, near where our farm once stood, the feeling was...I dunno.... bittersweet....but it was also...awakening....I realized that we had been in so many places...from Gilberton Washington....to Union...and Rufus Oregon....to Guin Alabama...and Jenson Utah and Daniel Wyoming....I had wondered the very same thing...in each of those places....what happened here...and why...

And the difference for me was...that I actually stood here...I lived here....in North Branch Minnesota 43 years ago...I saw...what it was then...and I see what it is now.

I also realized something else pretty important. Places change, and people change, but the memories they leave behind? Those stay.

And whether North Branch is a small town, a growing suburb, or something else entirely, it’s still the place where I learned what winter is...how to be a 15 year old kid on a farm...what it's like to have to climb out your bedroom window on the second floor....slide down the roof of the porch and shovel out the snow so you can let the dogs out...and go thaw out the pipe in the haybarn so the horses can have breakfast.

It’s still the place where people find community. And maybe, just maybe, that’s what truly defines a place… not its size, or its economy, but the connections we make...and the things we learn...while we're there.

We spent the rest of the day driving....just a big 'ol circle...Forest Lake...Chisago....Camebridge...Rush City...and Taylors Falls.....and that ski area where I got my first offical actual real life job....as a ski rental technician....in other words...the guy that sorted through the skii's that came back in from rent...clean em up...inspect em...pair em up and put em back on the rack for the next adventurer to rent....all the while....hoping for the day I'd be promoted out there to one of those lift chairs...those guys always looked like they were having WAY more fun than I was....but then...on the other hand...lookin back...it was Minnesota....It was January....and I was....inside.

We found our way back to North Branch....and little park next to the railroad tracks nobody uses anymore....creek along side us....and that once was farm I used to live on not more than a mile or so up the road....

A quiet evening....thinking through it all.

We'll head out in the morning...carrying some renewed memories along I guess...

In a world in which memories are captured every day by pullin a phone out of our pocket...then posted to a social media account in the cloud...ensuring it lives forever...on the internet....

It's fun...to remember a time...40 years ago when cameras meant poloroid....if you wanted "instant"....or kodak...if ya cared to wait a few days for those photos....and then those photo's had to be kept...and what if they werent....what if they were lost....

We didn't keep any of those photos...not sure we took many....the ones we did....gone.....

But as I as leave North Branch.... again....I take those memories with me again....photographed or not....and in the end....I think maybe...that's enough.

Todays drive would take us over the border from Minnesota...and into a place called...Silver Lake Iowa...

I wonder what we'll learn there?