February in Minnesota is usually the ugly, dark side of Winter. It is often characterized by cycles of bitter cold and temporary ascension above the freezing point which allows for just enough snow melt to turn sidewalks and streets into skating rinks. It presents the kind of conditions that can make even the most hardened, winter-loving Minnesotans yearn for spring conditions. So, as Northerners we're faced with a pretty simple choice: either hibernate for another two, maybe three, months and suffer through the remaining bitterness winter has to offer, or — laugh in the face of old man winter and lean into it.
Personally, I choose the latter. Call me a masochist, but I refuse to sit idle and let untamed weather get the better of me. So this past weekend, we loaded up the Jeep, dog and all, and headed North to Nisswa for some late-season winter indulgence.
Grandview Lodge is not an obscure place like many of the lodges that are found further North in the Boundary Waters and off the Gunflint Trail. Whereas those lodges are more of the hidden gem variety, Grandview is relatively a known quantity, or rather, known gem, among Minnesotans and other savvy Midwesterners. It is easy to see why upon a visit. Back in the early 1900s, it fit the conventional description of a lodge whereas nowadays it is less a lodge and more a resort, and ownership has been wise enough to market Grandview Lodge as such.
Now it may sound like I am speaking ill of Grandview but rather, it is quite the opposite. As a marketer by trade, I appreciate the Cote family's (Grandview's ownership) ability to capitalize on the business opportunity and provide a little something for everyone. The property still hosts the namesake lodge that was originally built to play host to prospective land buyers back in 1919, however, the Cote family has built what can only be described as a sprawling resort that today sports a golf course, over sixty-five cabins, an indoor waterpark, a pizzeria, and several restaurants. This is only the tip of the iceberg of what the resort has to offer. It's really worth experiencing firsthand. Possibly the most endearing element of the resort is the standard of hospitality the Cote family and their staff have cultivated — it's ultimately what makes staying at Grandview worthwhile.
The accommodation is quite comfy as well. Grandview has accommodations for everyone ranging from one person seeking a little R&R "me time" to nine-bedroom cabins that can accommodate large groups. Given we had a relatively small group (five adults, two kids, and two dogs), we elected to stay in one of their 8th fairway townhome accommodations. While my preferred accommodation for a mid-winter weekend getaway is somewhere between winter camping in a cold tent and the 8th fairway townhome we stayed in, I did appreciate having a comfy bed, hot showers, and ample space readily available to us all weekend.
Our weekend began with a relatively slow start out of the house Friday morning. Monica and I have a bad history of being a bit sluggish on our starts with road trips. Fortunately, we were in no rush, as the rest of our party would be arriving in the mid-evening hours and check-in wasn't until 3:00 pm. After a bevy of small errands we had to run, we were finally on the road North around 11:30 am.
We had planned a small pit stop in the town of Buffalo to visit an antique mall, get Monica's skates sharpened at a second-hand sporting goods shop, and let Luna out before completing the remaining drive up to Nisswa. We struck out finding anything of note at the antique mall but completed our other two tasks and were on our way North again.
We arrived at our cabin for the weekend about an hour before sunset, just behind Monica's father. We set to work getting the rooms sorted out for sleeping arrangements and the kitchen set up for dinner. We completed these tasks before the real party (read: kids) arrived, so I decided to recharge the battery with a quick nap, a rare treat, and as I was soon to find out, short-lived — four minutes to be exact. Ah, another time. There's time for a nap when I'm dead, right?
The thunder on the floors from upstairs of company arriving was enough of an alarm clock to effectively rouse me. The way the floors gave way to noise would make you think the cabins had been constructed back in the 1930s (mind you they are of much newer fabrication). Our Minneapolis home is a 1930s Tudor that has the same quality so there is some strange satisfaction in being able to hear what is going on in the house regardless of where you might be in it. I mozied upstairs to greet the rest of our group and to take on my role for the evening — head pizza chef.
Monica had done me a solid in doing most of the ingredient preparations so I mostly had to construct the pizzas and manage the steady flow of pizzas in and out of the oven. Most of the wares for the evening had been picked up from Ready Meats, a gem of a butcher shop in Northeast Minneapolis near where we live. In addition to an impressive selection of high-quality meats, they sell a pizza kit that makes group dinners like this a breeze while still being able to enjoy the company you are hosting.
One by one the pizzas went in and came out of the oven in all their steamy, cheese-melty deliciousness. We had the kids put together their own mini-pizzas which went over rather well. The adults were treated to a variety of three pizzas including a pepperoni mushroom and honey-jalapeno pizza, then on to a classic supreme, and ending with a delicious margarita pizza. Pizza night ended with a few games on the dining room table and slowly each member of the party turned in to rest up for the action-packed agenda we had planned for the following day.
The next morning we got an early start to the day, headlined by a cabin-y breakfast of eggs, sausage, and blueberries before the rest of the group left to hit the lake for some ice skating with the kids. Given I haven't put on skates in twenty-five years or so I elected to stay behind and hang out with Luna (our blue heeler mix covid puppy). Unbenounced to the rest of the group I had been eyeing the classic wood-crafted show shoes made by Monica's father, Dave, that he had brought with him for the weekend. I thought this would be the perfect opportunity to take them for a spin while getting Luna out for some romping around in the snow.
I left not long after the rest of the group and mozied down the hill from our cabin to the eighth fairway of the golf course, now covered in a heavy layer of powder snow. So heavy, mind you, that I had underestimated the depth of the snow and quickly reassessed my need for proper gear. I went back to the cabin to fetch my snow pants then returned more properly equipped for the task. I found a small pile of snow to use as a sort of pseudo bench to sit on and roped Luna to a nearby tree while I appended the snowshoes to my boots.
As I strapped the hand-crafted show shoes to my feet I marveled at the craftsmanship of the snow shoes. Dave, Monica's father, is a master woodworker. Even now writing this I can see him cracking a small smile and scoffing at this declaration, but it is true, whether he is too modest to admit it or not. Later I would chat with him about how well the snow shoes performed in the deep snow and he would go on to tell me he prefers these conventional styles to the newer, lighter, aluminum-framed snowshoes, which are formidable for walking in groomed or light snow but are not ideal for deep or backcountry conditions. I couldn't help but agree with him.
After getting the show shoes on I let Luna off the leash, much to her elation, and set off for our morning stroll. The eighth fairway wasn't a large area but the deep snow made the otherwise easily walkable area feel much larger than it was. Luna and I first treaded East to where the snow was more tightly packed and shallower. Luna took much enjoyment in being off-leash, a luxury we're not afforded in the city, sniffing around and running while also staying well enough in eye and earshot to reassure me she wasn't up to any mischief. A win-win for us both as I didn't care to give chase with snow shoes on.
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It was a bright, and relatively warm day for mid-February, and I simply relished it, pausing momentarily to take in the beauty of the day. Call me a romantic but in moments I like this, I like to pause and close my eyes and take in every sensation with heightened senses and appreciation: the warmth of the sun, the soft subtle winter breeze, the intoxicating cold air flowing in and out of my lungs, and the birds chirping exuberantly in the better-than-usual weather. The serenity of solitude this morning provided — a man and his dog out on a morning stroll in the snow, was beautiful in the most simplistic way.
We rounded the loop at the head of the fairway in the shallower snow and as we headed Southwest we found ourselves in deeper snow. Luna, despite her ambition as the self-appointed leader of our morning trek, begrudgingly elected to let me do the trailblazing given she would otherwise have to do overexerted rainbow hops to move forward in the snow. I checked the time on my Doxa Sub300 "Silverlung" and reckoned we had been out a little over an hour and should make the turn for home. I was enjoying the morning so much that I decided to take one last loop back towards the East side of the fairway on the way back then worked back up the hill towards the cabin.
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After the walk, I briefly met the rest of the group down at the water park before we returned to the cabin for lunch. Though the water park was modest, I got a chuckle out of the joy it brought to the kids. I remember not so long ago being their age and getting endless enjoyment out of waterparks of all shapes and sizes. It's shockingly entertaining to watch kids splash around and makeup games of all sorts.
After the kids were adequately saturated with waterpark fun for the day, we returned to the cabin for a quick lunch and recharge before our next activity. We made the group grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup, a humble but proper lunch for a laid-back weekend up North. It seemed to do the trick as a few of us turned in for a quick nap before the next stop on our itinerary. I took the opportunity to settle into the library nook in our cabin, next to a panoramic view of the backwoods along the eighth fairway, for a little afternoon read of Hodinkee magazine volume two.
Given we had spent the morning indulging the kids in their activities of choice we decided a more adult activity was in order so we rallied the troops, packed into the cars, and headed a couple miles up the road to Roundhouse Brewing. As we drove, I pondered how the surrounding area might look markedly different without the presence of Grandview Lodge. I have a hunch it would be all but non-existent, certainly far less developed. Resort traffic had to be a large driver of business in the area. Grandview, though expansive, doesn't really fit the mold of a resort as you might conventionally think about one. Without a doubt, it is one, but it does a nice job of melding into the area that doesn't disrupt the cabin-life culture in Nisswa.
We arrived at the brewery in the mid-afternoon, around 2:30 pm or 3:00 pm. There were a few other patrons but the brewery was largely quiet by drinking establishment standards and we were able to walk right up to the bar to order a drink without having to wait in line. I had successfully completed dry January and was feeling so good I had carried my success into February. This provided a crossroad for me. Despite having brought plenty of adult libations up North with us, I really wasn't sure if I was going to use this weekend as an excuse to break my dry January streak. Then again, I had completed my sober month and we were going to be at a brewery for at least an hour so I figured "what the hell" and ordered a flight of beer.
The beer was quite good, I recommend if you're in the area and care to indulge, the stop at Roundhouse is well worth it. I'm not exactly sure why but the first beer coming off this latest dry month challenge didn't feel as momentous as last time. Regardless, it was a nice treat, and we enjoyed some good conversation and games with the kids while we did some liquid carb loading before our last activity of the day — sledding.
As the kids began to get restless, we finished up our drinks and packed up our things, and headed back to the cabin to change into snow gear before hitting the sledding hill. I found it marvelous Grandview Lodge had thought of everything, even the sledding hill, to maximize guest experiences. They even had a little shed full of sleds in case you hadn't brought your own. We arrived at the hill and had the entirety of it to ourselves for a good fifteen minutes. There is some magic to sledding that makes even the most ardent adult return to the childhood nostalgia of racing down the hill and emphatically shouting things like "I'm going faster!" or "I went farther than you!" or "I won the race!". It took no time at all for all five adults to revert to their childhood selves and hop in a sled for some downhill shenanigans. The dogs even joined in the fun, racing around and chasing us downhill.
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The sun began to set and daylight faded on our sledding session which acted as a nice natural close to our gamut of activities for the day. With everyone thoroughly saturated with fun and mostly exhausted, we went back to the cabin to shed our snow layers, then shuttled up to the lodge for dinner. I finished out the evening with another beer and a walleye sandwich, which in hindsight, was a very Minnesotan way to end the day. As I lay in bed that night and drifted off to sleep, I tried to remember the last time I packed so many different activities into a day. It must have been quite some time ago because I fell asleep before I could arrive at an answer.
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Sunday arrived and we were presented with another unseasonably warm and sunny February day. We shared another ramshackle cabin breakfast of pancakes, sausage, and blueberries before Monica, the kids, her brother, and her sister-in-law headed off to the waterpark one last time before shoving off. Dave and I, not having any interest in the pool, elected to stay behind to clean the cabin and begin packing up the cars. This took all of about an hour and by the time the others returned from the pool we were about ready to shove off from the cabin.
Before heading our separate ways after our weekend of fun we decided to head over to the golf clubhouse to rent skis and do a little cross-country skiing. The clubhouse was fairly quiet as the staff prepared for the Superbowl Sunday festivities and I was surprised again that there were not a lot of other people renting skis or snowshoes on such a glorious winter day. I was also surprised again at the helpfulness and hospitality of the staff as they outfitted each of us for our activity of choice. The bulk of the group, including the kids, elected to cross-country ski while Dave and Monica's sister-in-law elected snow shoes.
I got a good laugh out of Sully, Monica's nephew, as he proclaimed to his mom "I want to ski by myself". I asked Annie, his mother if he had ever skied before. "No" she proclaimed with a laugh and a subtle eye roll. I admired his confidence to ski by himself having never experienced the awkwardness of having skis attached to his feet. He lasted all of about five minutes on the groomed trail before electing to be pulled by Annie in the sled.
June, Monica's niece, on the other hand, lasted quite a bit longer than I would have expected and took quite naturally to cross-country skiing. As with any first-timer, she still had a healthy dose of falls, which ultimately defeated her as well but I was impressed with her tenaciousness to get back up and try again. With the kids fed up with cross-country skiing after about 40 minutes we headed back to the clubhouse for some winter smores over the fire.
We said our goodbyes to the rest of the group then turned back to the trails to get a proper session of skiing in before the drive back. Luna once again was soaking in the lovely day and enjoying the freedom of being off-leash. She exercised this freedom responsibly, oftentimes leading the pack, as she does, and finding fun things to sniff and nose around without getting out of eyeshot of Monica and me. Given the sun and the unseasonably warm temperatures, the snow was wet and sticky but overall provided nice skiing conditions. The trails were nicely groomed and we didn't have any falls, though some of the downhills did get a little dicey in areas the sun had melted away the tracks.
After about an hour on the trails, we made our way back up to the clubhouse for a beer and some wings before we hit the road back home. We had the pleasure of having the clubhouse bar all to ourselves, aside from the staff., which was a little unexpected luxury to an otherwise humble little meal before our drive home. With our bill paid and our bellies full, we piled into the car for the two-and-a-half-hour drive home.
In hindsight, the weekend was brief, we were out of Nisswa just about as soon as we had arrived, and though that was the case it didn't feel like a short weekend. It was actually quite action-packed which made us feel like we made the most of the time we had and already had us talking about another visit the following year.
As Monica napped for the last hour of the drive, I found myself thinking about how we could have just as easily holed up at home, put on a fire, and streamed something we'd seen a hundred times already. After all, we're in that phase of winter when it is so easy for the mind and soul to start yearning for fairer weather and activities you don't need two or three extra layers for. Then again, I'm sure as soon as summer is in full swing, I'll be thinking it's too hot and will be wishing I had that cool crisp air that only winter can offer. In this thought, I resolved that I would be content to enjoy (and at times endure) the remaining cold, ice, and snow that winter still had to offer. Furthermore, I would encourage others to do the same, and lean into this otherwise frowned-upon season. After all, you just might find yourself wishing for it after spring and summer breezes return to the Midwest.