When it comes to Minnesota winters, there’s not a lot of middle ground. Some go into survival mode, turn up the heat, and curl up on the couch with a steaming mug of hot cocoa and wool socks. Daylight-deprived, they start mass-producing melatonin and slowly drift into melancholy. Others fight back the natural urge to retreat into the cave until the outside air stops to hurt. My wife, Jen, and I can be master couch-sitters, but when it comes to beating the winter blues, we leave the house every chance we get. When we heard about Thief River Falls’ inaugural Frost Fest, we made the trek into the northwest corner of the state to check out this weekend-long celebration.
Taking a look at the schedule, we knew right away that we wouldn’t be able to do everything as events were spread over town and sometimes happening at the same time. We decided on three must-do items: a fatbike ride, hotdish cook-off and a lefse feed—a true Minnesota trifecta. We’d leave the rest up to spontaneous decisions and let the days unfold. At the offices of Visit Thief River Falls, we picked up a schedule and started our adventure.
Near the confluence of the Red Lake and Thief Rivers, snow sculptures were taking shape at Centennial Park. Gale Osen, owner of Serendipity Art Hub, assisted by Sister Dastrup, Sister Jacobson, and Abram Dehne was busy transforming a huge mound of snow into a recognizable figure using gardening tools and a machete. “It’s a fish, of sorts,” she said while she shaved a little off the side with a shovel. Indeed, the creature resembled a deep-sea angler fish with its wide open maw and rows of sharp teeth. Taking advantage of a balmy 23-degree day, she said she was almost eight hours into this project, with four more left to go.
In the basement of St. Bernard’s Catholic Church, we found the tradition of the Friday night fish fry not just alive and well, but taken to a whole new level. In the cafeteria-like souterrain, hundreds of people had gathered for dinner, and one would expect long lines at the serving window. But, within minutes of entering the cavernous mess hall, we were headed to an empty spot, sizzling walleye fillets and fixings on our plates.
Seated on a stool near the serving window, microphone in hand, church member Steve Stone emceed the event, making regular announcements and ushering bewildered newbies like us toward the serving window. This famous fish fry, he told us, has been growing in popularity steadily since the mid-1990s and now regularly serves 1,000; up to 1,300 during lent. 50 to 75 volunteers keep things running smoothly in a process that starts two days before with making everything from scratch, continues with serving on site, packaging takeout meals, and delivering online orders. It ends with scrubbing the pots late Friday night. “It’s a well-oiled machine,” he said. He was tight-lipped about the recipe for what he called the secret church gravy and would only reveal that it contained “bricks of butter.”
We finished the evening off with a twilight walk at the Greenwood Rec Area on the southern end of town. Frost Fest volunteers had decorated the walking trails along the Red Lake River with hundreds of solar-powered lights that cast a star-shaped glow on the fresh snow and made for a wonderful atmosphere.
Anticipating a busy day, we got an early start on Saturday. Early enough to be first in line at the fundraiser breakfast for the Thief River Falls Prowlers track team at the Eagles Club. While more people eventually shuffled in, we went over the itinerary for the main day of Frost Fest. There were so many things going on, but we finally had it whittled down to lefse, shopping bingo, a fat bike ride, hotdish cook-off, a comedy show, and a few other stops.
At the Legacy Event Center, members of the Sons of Norway Snorre Lodge had a production line of lefse going (however, the daughters did most of the cooking). It’s amazing how a simple potato flatbread with some butter and sugar can lift your spirits.
Fortified, we moved on and worked on filling up our shopping bingo cards. We got our first stamp at Sara Jane Boutique, where Johnny Cash and Willie Nelson were singing a duet over the speakers. I surprised myself and fell in love with a purple western shirt with shingle point pockets and pearl snap buttons, which I intend to wear to my next roundup. The bigger surprise was a table with free snacks and a friendly bartender awaiting our cocktail orders in the next room. An Old Fashioned or, perhaps, a Toddy would have gone well with my purchase, but we were fixin’ to rustle up some more goods in town and needed to be sharp.
Just down the block, we found the largest thrift store we’d ever set foot in, at the corner of Labree Avenue and Third Street East. Old Bostwicks, a former department store turned thrift, had 20,000 square feet of vintage finds, spread out over two levels and joined with a magnificent staircase. We picked up a genuine 1970s, bright orange fondue pot, reminiscent of the one my parents had when I grew up.
A short walk away, at The Shed, we perused the home goods and clothes. I picked up an R-rated refrigerator magnet with a message that’s not fit for publication. You’ll just have to visit the store and see for yourself.
We kept wandering and stopped into Ingram’s Candy Store. It’s an impeccably organized treasure trove of sweets we visit every time we’re in town. Decadent chocolates, vibrant jelly beans, taffy, and cotton candy—they have it. If the nostalgic pop rocks, swizzle sticks and self-serve gummy bar aren’t for you, there’s always candy-coated scorpions. As usual, I headed straight for their liquorice rack.
There was just enough time for a short drive to Stevie Ann Boutique before it was time to saddle up and get together with the crew of Bike Thief River Falls, a local advocacy group and Bike MN Chapter, for a fatbike ride. Back at the Eagles Club, I met Gerritt, Glen, Luquis, and Todd, and, despite 30-mile-an-hour howling winds, we donned snow goggles, cinched up our hoods, hopped on our steeds, and headed toward the Northland College Trails. We made an abbreviated loop on trails near the Thief River and checked out the progress on the snow sculptures at Centennial Park. By the time we returned to the Eagles Club, we were all ready for the next item on the agenda, the hotdish and soup cook-off.
Our group found a table, and the dishes kept coming, while we thawed out. There were a few standard Minnesota-safe offerings, but also pozole, cheeseburger soup, buffalo chicken tortilla hotdish, and a variety of chilis. They were all good, especially after riding in a blizzard. We didn’t make it through all 16 entries, but we came close.
Jen and I split off and had a couple of drinks at Rivers and Rails Brewing. The stout, brown brick structure sits right at the crossroads of both, offering a view of the Red Lake River and a railroad bridge spanning the water. We found a small table next to a window that allowed a look at the brewing and fermentation tanks. It was the first time we had had a chance to catch our breaths all day, and we enjoyed watching the crowds at this cheery neighborhood brewery.
At the table next to us, a lively Dungeons and Dragons group was setting up, and it was good to see people come together in person to play games. Eventually, the Dungeon Master sent his elf wizards and halfling rangers on a quest, and that was our cue to move on to our next mission, a trip to The Piggy BBQ.
As we made our way up to the second floor of the former Elks Lodge on Third Street, the faint aroma of wood smoke guided us up the stairs. We were hungry, but we may have overshot our goal by a mile. By the time our server had brought out tray after tray, we realized we had ordered enough for a small army. There was the Slider Trio with pulled pork, smoked turkey, and burnt ends, ribs with Piggy’s spicy sauce, and a tray of smoked chicken wings with Wilbur’s Wildfire sauce. The feast was crowned with kettle chips and a side of mac and cheese, and it was clear there would be leftovers.
After about an hour, we waddled back down the stairs and on to our final stop of the night. Luckily, it required only sitting and listening. The fairly new Legacy Event Center just east of Thief River Falls hosts events of all kinds, and we were looking forward to an evening of comedy. At about 8:30, comedian Eric Slivoskey took the stage and entertained the crowd, sometimes inadvertently so, with his brand of comedic storytelling about life in the USA and his travels through the country.
The cozy 517 Diner was busy on Sunday morning, and we settled in to our seats to study the hilariously oversized menu. Besides the classics, it was filled with choices of French toast, waffles, pancakes and crêpes, but also breakfast flatbread pizzas and burritos. Jen chose the Three Pigs Breakfast Bowl, and I went with the Breakfast Supreme flatbread. I briefly entertained ordering the Triple Dare-Ya, which promised it to be “just you vs. the plate.” But we had things to do, and three eggs, three strips of bacon, three sausage links, three pieces of French toast, and three pancakes with toast and hash browns would have had me driving back to the hotel for a nap.
Too often, restaurants have disappointing coffee, and we, self-proclaimed coffee snobs, usually just skip it altogether. But part of the restaurant was the Java Bean Coffee Shop, and we had our usual. A good cup of coffee with a shot of strong espresso set the stage for the rest of the day, and we left content.
Any trip to Thief River Falls should include a visit to Agassiz National Wildlife Refuge. The 61,000-acre expanse protects a vast network of wetlands and is home to a breathtaking 9,000-acre tamarack bog wilderness. It’s a haven for an incredible variety of birds and mammals, even moose and wolves. During the warmer months, it bursts into vibrant green against the backdrop of the surrounding farmland and roads and teems with life. In the winter, things are quieter, but it’s still worth a visit. A nearly untouched refuge like this allows a glimpse back in time, any time of year. We walked out to the observation platform on Rodahl Trail and took a look across the frozen marsh. There wasn’t a building in sight, a mild breeze rustled the withered reeds, and the chickadees were singing their familiar tune in the rushes. With yesterday’s gales gone, it was peaceful out there.
For the final act of Frost Fest, we stopped at the Thief River Falls Armory, where a crowd had gathered around a bonfire on top of the hill behind the building, for an unusual competition. The contest had simple rules: Attempt to slide down the snowy hill and score points for distance traveled. Any vehicle goes, except an actual sled. No toboggans or saucers, either. Kids and adults alike tried for the high score using bicycles, inflatables, storage totes, surfboards, laundry baskets, and other home-made contraptions. Our personal favorite was a young man who rolled down the slope in a 55-gallon barrel. As we watched him descend, our middle-aged bodies shivered with every bump he hit. He stopped rolling, stood up on wobbly legs, popped his helmet off, and said, “Did I catch any air?” This went on for a while, but in the end, the couple on the surfboard cruised way ahead of the competition, and it was time for us to leave.
On the way home, we had a chance to talk about the weekend. The community of Thief River Falls came together to host the first ever Frost Fest and really showed their spirit during a chilly Minnesota winter. Everywhere we went—the lefse feed, the fatbike ride, the no-sled competition—people embraced the cold and turned it into a festive occasion filled with fun activities. This small town in the far northwestern corner of the state created a warm and inviting atmosphere, proving that winter can be a time for joy and connection.
