Eagles From Art to Aerie

A shelf of toy bald eagles at the National Eagle Center

Tim and I planned this trip along The Great River Road more or less on the fly.  When I picked up the map in Memphis for this National Scenic Byway, I knew I'd have to spend some time each evening deciding how far to go, which attractions to visit the next day and where we'd sleep tomorrow night.  There was no opportunity for a day of downtime devoted to trip planning.  Since we needed to be in Minneapolis by July 13th, we had to make a concerted push to meet that deadline.

So I sighed with relief when I realized we could spread the last 170 miles over two easy days of travel, giving us a chance to arrive by check-in time at our final motel and sleep late the next morning.

Therefore, I persuaded Tim that we had time to stop at the Minnesota Marine Art Museum in Winona, Minnesota right on the bank of the Mississippi River.  Every work of art in this small museum focuses on the artist's relationship with water.  I was surprised to find world-class artists and paintings such as

Homer Winslow, Winding Line [Oil on canvas], 1874, Private collection

Claude Monet, La Siene à Vétheuil [Oil on canvas], 1881, Private collection

Pablo Picasso, Homme Addis, [Watercolor and Ink on paper], 1933, Private collection

One of only two existing autographed versions of Washington Crossing the Delaware by Emanuel Leutze is also on display here, purchased by the museum's founders, Mary Burrichter and her husband, Bob Kierlin, owner of Fastenal, a Winona-based hardware-supply company.  The other larger version hangs in New York's Museum of Metropolitan Art.

Very cool, don't you think?

Andy Warhol, Bald Eagle, from Endangered Species F. & S. II 296 [Screenprint in colors on Lenox Museum Board],  1983, Ronald Feldman Gallery

Also very cool was the museum's current exhibition called Eagles Over Water featuring eagle related art and ephemera that ranged from works by John James Audubon to Andy Warhol.

Yet, it was the exhibit of paintings by Thomas Paquette that filled me with delight.  His three-year odyssey along the same roads we had just traveled culminated in his America's River Re-Explored: Paintings of the Mississippi from Source to Gulf, a monumental work of 46 paintings.  Seeing the river through his eyes was like revisiting an old friend.

Thomas Paquette, Alma's Buena Vista [Oil on linen], 2017, Minnesota Marine Art Museum

Trying to find an image of one of Paquette's Mississippi works to post here, I could only find the above on the museum's web site, but Tim and I had not yet driven as far as Alma, Wisconsin.  Checking the map, I saw that it was only 25 miles farther up the road so back in the car we climbed.

However, this prospect was not an easy location to find.  When we arrived in Alma, Wisconsin, a tiny town that clings to the overhanging bluffs, there was a small signpost to Buena Vista park that pointed up a very steep hill.  I'd read that you have to drive up a narrow, winding road and this looked like the one.  So Tim put the Jeep in second gear to grind up to the top the ridge.  From there, we circled around an additional two miles past several prosperous-looking farms to reach to this park with a big view.

Walking over to the edge of the bluff was like stepping out on a balcony of a very tall hotel.  We had a stunning panoramic view of the river, Lock and Dam #4 and the tiny town of Alma directly below.

I could have stayed there all day to watch the shifting light of the clouds upon the landscape, but hunger forced us back to the car.

The Nelson Creamery was just ten miles up the Great River Road in Nelson, Wisconsin.  The place was bustling even at 2:00 in the afternoon.  Tim pushed his way past all the customers gawking at the wide variety of ice cream flavors to place our order at the sandwich counter.  Ah!  A bean sprout-laden veggie on multi-grain bread paired with a cup of Loaded Baked Potato soup was just the fare to appease my appetite.  Afterwards, we browsed the well-stocked shelves of cheese, wishing we were traveling in a vehicle with a refrigerator.  Alas, that was not the case so sadly we left without making a purchase.

The last stop of the day was in Wabasha, Minnesota at the National Eagle Center, an interpretive center devoted to protecting bald eagles.  Bald eagles congregate along the shorelines of the Upper Mississippi River, migrating here from the frozen areas of Canada to nest and lay their eggs.  Even when bald eagles were endangered, we learned that Wabasha was one of the few places you could still find them.  Due to the fast current here, the Mississippi rarely freezes during the winter.  That means there is abundant food for the eagles.

A child-size eagle's nest, an aerie, was a big hit with small human visitors.  Children and adults alike were enthralled by Angel, Columbia and Was'aka, rescued bald eagles and now ambassadors in the center's daily programs and special events.  We arrived too late to see the eagles in action, but our visit did bring back memories of a night-time program about raptors we'd seen at the Badlands National Park.

When we checked into the motel that afternoon, the owner mentioned a concert was scheduled down at the river next to the National Eagle Center that evening.  We meant to go, but Tim fell asleep.  I didn't wake him, preferring to have some quiet time to work on my blog.  I was so far behind in posting what we'd seen.  I knew my memories would fade if I didn't make an effort to catch up.  Looking back on this day, I realized we'd begun by viewing art inspired by eagles and finished at the center devoted to education and preservation of eagles.  That's serendipity, because I certainly didn't plan it!

Driftless

After two nights in Prairie du Chien's Motel Six (Oh, boy!  Do we ever miss the bed in the RV!  But we've got to stay within our budget even if it means a couple nights in less than desirable accommodations.  Did I mention the police who knocked on our door in the middle of the night?  They were responding to a 911 call made from the motel.  Such an adventure!  But back to my point), we crossed the bridge to its sister city, Marquette, Iowa, to travel through the Driftless Area in the northeast corner of that state.

The Driftless Education and Visitors Center where we stopped in Lansing describes the terrain this way:  "Can you imagine this landscape at the bottom of an ocean?  Or as the only dry land surrounded by a sea of ice?  These geologic events shaped the Driftless Area long ago, and each dramatic epoch left its mark on the land.  Their legacy is this hilly landscape built from soluble rocks like limestone.  Geologists call this karst topography.  In Iowa, we call it The Driftless."

Up early due to a less than restful night, Tim and I arrived at the center at 8 a.m. just as the wildlife ranger was unlocking the door.

His assistant was absorbed in feeding the amphibians and snakes in their terrariums so we spent a quiet hour there learning about the ecology of the area, especially the conservation efforts of the wildlife service to replenish the freshwater fish and mussel populations.

Photo on display at the Driftless Education & Visitors Center

I was also interested in the exhibit about local farming techniques.  To keep harmful pesticides and sediment from washing into local waterways that drain into the Mississippi, farmers have left natural buffers, small tracts of land with permanent vegetation, to serve as filters.  We saw these as we drove to Lansing.  Such buffers reduce the migration of pesticides and herbicides by half.

After climbing Mount Hosmer to another scenic view of the Mississippi, we drove across the Black Hawk Bridge at Lansing into Wisconsin.

A visit at the Genoa National Fish Hatchery, another Great River Road interpretive center, gave us a first-rate introduction to more than two dozen species of freshwater fish the hatchery is attempting to save.

I found it impossible to capture the many ponds where the hatchery is raising the fish.

Photo courtesy of the Great Road Interpretive Center near Genoa, WI

This aerial view of the Genoa National Fish Hatchery on display at the center gives a much better view of the scope of the hatchery.

 Some of the fish they ship considerable distances.  For example, the lake sturgeon they raise here are sent to stock streams from New York to Tennessee while the Higgins' Eye Pearlymussels (isn't that a great name?) go as far south as Gainesville, Florida.

Charles Bird King, Sauk Chief Makataimeshekiakiah or Black Hawk, 1837, Public Domain

Besides its obvious mission to educate the public about aquatic wildlife, it also has an excellent exhibit regarding the Battle of Bad Axe, the final battle of the Black Hawk War fought in 1832.

Map courtesy of the Genoa National Fish Hatchery Interpretive Center

This battle, if you can call it that, occurred just south of the hatchery.  It's another tale of broken treaties that led to the wholesale slaughter of almost all Black Hawk's band.

Then it was on to La Crosse, Wisconsin, where our attention shifted from the environment and the Black Hawk War to Catholicism.  At the Shrine of Our Lady of Guadalupe, we joined other visitors in a pilgrimage to the Shrine Church which was constructed in 2004.

Along the way, we stepped into the Mother of Good Counsel Chapel.

Beautiful stained glass windows on three sides of the chapel formed a semi-circle around this pyramid of lit votive candles.

Statues like this one of Saint Joseph the Workman, a tribute to the earthly carpenter father of Jesus, drew our notice as we continued to climb.

When we reached the Shrine Church, we learned that a celebration of mass was in process so we hiked up to the Stations of the Cross.

The bronze relief sculptures like this one of Pontius Pilate washing his hands after questioning Jesus were especially moving to me.

The Shrine Church of Our Lady of Guadalope

By the time we returned to the church, the service had ended and a tour guide welcomed us to join him for a closer look at its architecture and ornamentation.

That was not the only church we visited in La Crosse.  Later in the day, we stopped at the beautiful Mary of the Angels Chapel on the grounds of St. Rose Convent, the motherhouse of the Franciscan Sisters of Perpetual Adoration.

Mary of the Angels Chapel

Since August 1, 1878, at least two sisters have maintained a 24-hour vigil here to pray for the Church, the community and the world.  This group of nuns have contributed so much to the city in the arenas of health care, social welfare and education.

The order opened St. Francis Hospital in 1883, now the Mayo Clinic Health System--Franciscan Healthcare in La Crosse.

In 1890 the sisters began St. Rose Normal School to prepare sisters to teach in elementary schools.  Today it's known as Viterbo University, a Catholic liberal arts university.

So in less than eight hours we went from being driftless in Iowa to examining the roots of Catholicism in La Crosse, all in a day's trip on The Great River Road.

Philadelphia Is Fine

Ben Franklin watches over the city from atop Philadelphia's City Hall

Tim and I have visited Philadelphia several times in the past.  In fact, it is one of my favorite cities
ranking right up there with Washington, D.C.   I've written about the city a couple times in my previous blog; one post you could view here.  So it was good to have a reason to return and find that Philadelphia is still--well, fine.  And what better reason could we have than to visit our daughter Jillian whose job transferred her here earlier this year.

Jillian rented her one-bedroom apartment sight unseen, relying on a single FaceTime call with the realtor who used his camera to virtually walk her through the rooms.  So it was with relief that we found her very happy with her new home.  All her boxes were unpacked, but hanging up pictures single-handedly was beyond her.  How can you step back to see if a picture's position is right if you are all by yourself?  So, she directed me to shift the picture up--down--to the left or the right--until she was happy with the result.  Then Tim used his level to ensure nothing went cockamamie and voila!  The job was done.  Now she's settled and very busy with new friends and new job responsibilities.

While she was busy with work, Tim and I had time to visit a few sights we'd never previously explored.  Always before we'd stayed at a hotel in City Center, but now we had parked the Dawntreader at a KOA campground 20 miles south of the city.  For our first foray into the city this time, we caught the Patco train from the Woodcrest station and crossed the Delaware River from New Jersey.

Our objective was to find the Gloria Dei (Old Swedes') Church, the oldest church in Pennsylvania.  I always thought that it was William Penn and a group of Quakers who founded Philadelphia, but that did not happened until 1682.  Swedish Lutheran colonists were there before him, arriving in 1643 to settle the Delaware River Valley.

The first parishioners modified a blockhouse on this site for worship which was replaced by the present brick church in 1700.  Of course, there have been modifications since then, but the baptismal font is original as is the carving of cherubim.

See the ship model hanging from the ceiling?  There are two of them.  They are models of the ships Fogel Grip and Kalmar Nyckel that brought the first Swedish immigrants to this area.

Do you know who a mummer is?  That is a question that was satisfactorily answered for us at The Mummers Museum.  In German, "mumme" means "disguise."  In medieval Europe, disguised Mummers entered their lords' castles during the Christmas season to dance or play dice in silence.  January 1st is the day that belongs to the Mummers in Philadelphia.

On New Year's Day, thousands of people decked out in colorful costumes strut down Broad Street for the longest-running traditional folk parade in the country.  The mummers devote an entire year to crafting their costumes, writing their skits and rehearsing their performance.  We even got into the act by learning the dance step, "The Strut," at the Mummers Museum.

Not only does Philadelphia have the oldest church in Pennsylvania, but it also has the oldest prison in the country, Eastern State Penitentiary, built in 1822.

It's only a few blocks from Jillian's apartment so we made plans for a tour when Richard could join us on Mother's Day weekend.

It's a grim reminder of an era that linked solitude with moral reform, keeping prisoners in solitary cells.  The Pennsylvania System was a model for prisons worldwide until reformers decried it as too cruel.

Al Capone got his first taste of prison life here in 1929 when he was apprehended outside a Philadelphia movie theater for carrying a concealed, unlicensed revolver.  When he was arrested, he was on his way back to Chicago from Atlantic City, NJ and some say he was reluctant to return to Chicago's escalating mob violence, accusing him of hiding in prison intentionally.  Certainly, the prison officials allowed Capone comforts not typically granted to inmates, including fine furniture, oriental rugs, oil paintings and a fancy radio.  He liked to listen to waltzes in his cell.

We spent the rest of Saturday at the Franklin Institute, a renown science museum that celebrates science, technology and engineering in ways that excite everyone from elementary students to retirees like us.

Jillian and Richard could not resist climbing into the cockpit of a 1948 T-33 Jet Trainer which was suspended from the ceiling in the Air Show exhibit.

Sunday we returned to the Franklin to participate in a Escape Room fantasy called "Intergalactic Escape."  Locked into a progression of rooms where only the successful solution of a series of clues would allow us to escape was a somewhat claustrophobic experience in my opinion.  Yet, thanks mostly to Jillian and Richard, we figured out how to unlock the exit door with seconds to spare before our imaginary starship lost all its oxygen.

Phew!  We were fine and so is the city of Philly!