Our spot.
After our overnight at Walmart in Fergus Falls, we needed to find a comfortable place to set up for a while so I could get some work done and Kate could do some quilting. We found a place in the Passport America book that looked promising: Heisler’s Country Camping at Loon Lake.
This turned out to be an odd little place. A mowed field behind a semi truck repair shop, run by drivers who summer here. There was a pub, with a sign with a pistol that said, “We don’t call 911.” The place was empty except for a few live-in trailers with a lot of junk around.
Kate’s quilt.
The people were friendly enough, though, and we found a large open site with a table. But there was a strange feel to the place. Next to us was a family with three kids, two dogs and a cat who were living there for the summer. The mother yelled at the ragamuffin children a lot, and their unhappiness seeped over to our site. The kids came over to pet Gypsy, and they were all so sweet and bright. I felt sad for them, stuck out in the mowed field with nothing to do all summer.
I did get a lot of work done that day, and Kate finished one of her lap quilts she’d signed on to make for Hospice patients. We took a break before dinner and drove to Loon Lake, where we could hear loons, if not see them, and Bailey got to do some swim-fetching. There were so many lakes in that area, and it was beautiful, but we decided to leave the next day and see what else we could find.