Bodacious Bluffs

To a lifetime Minnesotan like me, the southeastern part of the state feels like a different country. As I drive down winding steep hills into deep limestone-walled valleys, my ears pop and I find myself surrounded by bluffs that block out the sun. When I ascend, it’s like climbing a mountain, but then the road levels off and I find myself on the prairie with farms as far as the eye can see.

Southeastern Minnesota’s landscape, with its valleys and bluffs, differs from the landscape in most other parts of Minnesota, where the many lakes were formed during four glacial periods. When the glaciers receded, rivers of glacial meltwaters flowing south to the gulf carved out the bluffs and valleys of the southeastern corner of the state.

The region boasts more scenic driving and backbreaking bicycling routes than any other part of the state. Every major road in and out of the towns that lie along the Mississippi River provides a scenic adventure. The views from the roads around Frontenac and Great River Bluffs State Parks are as lovely as the views from the bluffs and more than compensate for the time spent driving. Except for the parks on Lake Superior’s North Shore, these two parks provide the best vistas in the state—and a longer, less mercurial, fall color season. Their beauty and solitude will keep you coming back, whatever the season.

FRONTENAC
Frontenac State Park—fifteen minutes south of Red Wing via U.S. Highway 61—offers luscious views of the granddaddy of all Minnesota’s river gorges—Lake Pepin. As numerous roadside plaques will tell you, massive floods that poured from melting glaciers 12,000 years ago carved the bluffs. Lake Pepin was formed when sand deposits from the Chippewa River, which flows into the Mississippi just south of the lake, acted as a dam.

From the lake, Frontenac is the most imposing natural landmark on the Minnesota side. The 430-foot bluff stands as a sentinel for all boaters approaching from the north. On a recent windy boat trip, we hid under the becalmed lee of the bluff, which shaded a good portion of the lake in mid-afternoon, the huge white rolling waves just feet away.

Though I had seen Frontenac several times from the lake as well as from the Wisconsin side, I never spent time on top of it until last fall. When I visited, the twenty-six-mile-long, four-mile-wide lake was flecked with white sails against a mix of early fall orange and green hardwood foliage. I stood at the rail of the southern overlook, mesmerized by the Wisconsin bluffs and the Winslow Homer-esque scene of a sailboat race. Above, several raptors glided on updrafts hunting some of the 240 species of songbirds that visit the bluffs. At the big bluff’s foot lies Old Frontenac, a tiny town consisting of houses and a retreat center, but no commercial businesses.

Old Frontenac has an interesting history that belies its sleepy, relic-of-another-era feel. Its several gracious and elderly homes are remnants of an era when wealthy Southerners would venture upriver to while away the hot summer months in Minnesota’s relative cool. With that era long gone, the town now sits in a state park, and all you can see from the bluff tops are the roofs of the homes and a church steeple.

With views of the lake peeking in and out of the thick forest blanketed by wildflowers and sweet-smelling leaves, the trails to and from the overlooks offer their own charm. If you have half a day free this autumn, a visit to this park is a delight to all the senses, though its proximity to the metro area occasionally brings crowds.GREAT RIVER BLUFFS
Those who want to enjoy vistas without a crowd, or have camping on their agenda, should drive an extra hour south of Frontenac to Great River Bluffs State Park. The drive on U. S. Highway 61 through Lake City, Wabasha, and Winona is lovely, and the three towns have a lot to offer as well.

The steep ascent from Highway 61 through a narrow limestone valley leads to a ridge with valleys on both sides and views down each valley all the way to the river. From the car-camp sites, a grassy trail leads to two separate overlooks. On my last visit, the maple canopy was so enchanting and the birds were singing so beautifully, I loped along breathing deeply and enjoying the wilderness music. At one point, I walked so close to a rose-breasted grosbeak I could have touched it. Several paces later, its melodic call—which resembles a lyric version of a robin’s mezzo-soprano—came from just behind me and was repeated in several places throughout the woods. A few steps later, I flushed out a pair of osprey that had perched on the cliff just to the left of the trail.

As the canopy grows thicker, the grass gives way to an earthen trail, which has been laid with wood chips to control erosion. Even in the deep woods, wildflowers pop with myriad colors. After about a mile stroll, you’ll come to an overlook from which you can see across the labyrinth of side channels, islands, and flowage lakes adjoining the main shipping channel of the Mississippi clear to La Crosse. Five hundred feet below, tiny cars whiz by, breaking the silence of the woods.

The scene is similar from other overlooks, though the best overlook (which is unnamed) not only offers a good view of the river, but also of the valley between the campground and picnic area. Reached from the picnic area, it also sits away from the road so less noise interrupts the serene setting. Despite the awesome vistas, the best part of a visit here is the quiet hikes on soft trails. Because of the remote setting, not much ventures along them, except for the abundant aviary wildlife that call the bluffs home.

Instead of retracing your route on Highway 61, head west from Winona on Highway 14 toward Rochester and past St. Mary’s University. Along the way, be careful to keep your eyes on the road, as they will be drawn to the sights of yet other gorgeous valleys and bluffs. 

James Mathewson is a frequent contributor to Mpls.St.Paul Magazine’s Travel section.