Where They Mark the Trees Red

Jun 9, 2025Events, Kayaking, Minnesota Miles Blog, Trails

If you could fly like a bird and rise high up into the skies of southwestern Minnesota, it wouldn’t take you long to spot the Minnesota River. It begins its journey south at Big Stone Lake on the Minnesota-North Dakota border and joins the Mississippi River at Fort Snelling State Park in Saint Paul some 330 miles later, traveling through the state like a reverse check mark. Along the way, the famous Minnesota is fed by many tributaries.

Near the confluence with the Redwood River, my wife, Jen, and I set up basecamp at Ramsey Park/Cansayapi (Chan-Cha-Yah-Pee) in Redwood Falls to see what there is to see and do in Redwood County. On our way there, Redwood Falls snuck up on us. We were cruising along the flat farm fields, and the only notice we had was a steep grade sign. We suddenly dropped into the valley, crossed the Minnesota River, and found our campsite at Ramsey Park/Cansayapi.

The history of this area as a park goes back to the late 1890s, when the property was in private ownership but accessible to the public. The 1900s brought a hydroelectric dam, which created Lake Redwood upstream, and grist and flour mills. In 1911, it was dedicated as an official Minnesota state park and named after Minnesota’s first territorial governor, Alexander Ramsey. Ownership reverted to the city of Redwood Falls in 1957, and renamed Ramsey Park became Minnesota’s largest municipal park at 256 acres, featuring two waterfalls, a historic hand cut granite bridge, a small zoo, campground, playground, many shelters, and 3.5 miles of paved hiking trails. In recent years, the name started being used in conjunction with Cansayapi, the word the Dakota use to describe their homeland on the Minnesota River, which translates to “Where they mark the trees red.”

Our campsite was broadside to the Redwood River, and we spent the rest of the afternoon at camp, enjoying the gurgling of the ice-cold water and the chirping of the birds in a quiet park on a pleasant spring day. Across the river was an impressive cliff, and we observed two deer casually walking the impossibly steep hill. It didn’t take long for muskrats, woodpeckers, and eagles to make an appearance, too, and we enjoyed a real wildlife diorama from the chairs in front of our trailer. Trees were just beginning to bud, and in the undergrowth and the riverbanks, Dutchman’s breeches and bloodroot sported the first, timid flowers.
The next day, I made a trip out to Walnut Grove, some 40 miles away. First, though, was a lunch stop at the local cafe in tiny Vesta, MN. The restaurant is run by Dave and Molly Wagner, who pride themselves on their Friday night special. “Nobody can beat my walleye in a 60-mile radius,” Dave told me. I was too early for that, so I went with the lunch special, shrimp and tater tots. Sure enough, just before I left, the first call for the Friday night dinner came in.
Just down the road, in Lucan, I couldn’t resist the call of South Forty Meat Market, and stopped for some provisions. The choice was tough. In the tidy shop, a couple of cases were well-stocked with retail cuts of beef and pork, a dozen or so varieties of brats, and specialty products. Their best seller, I was told, is the farmer’s ring, a smoked Polish-style sausage. But, something else caught my eye. Their sandwich meat was a sliced loaf reminiscent of summer sausage but smoked in a pan. The marinated pork steaks looked too good to pass up, and when I visit meat markets, I always take home bacon.
When I stepped outside, I noticed an old train station and a couple of metal sheds in the alley next to the shop. A sign listed a phone number to call, and less than ten minutes later, Joyce Prechel, a volunteer with the Lucan Area Historical Society, arrived to let me in so I could see the collection. One building housed many artifacts from the town’s past, which are always fascinating to see. The contents of the next building took me by surprise. When the door opened, I stepped into a rendition of the office of the late Rep. John Zwach. The local farmer and schoolteacher turned politician represented Minnesota’s sixth district in Congress from 1967 to 1975 and also served in the Minnesota House and Senate. Clearly, hometown pride was alive and well here. After taking a peek inside the restored Chicago and Northwestern railroad depot, I was on my way to Walnut Grove.
Author and journalist Laura Ingalls Wilder made Walnut Grove famous in her series of Little House books, which depicted settlers’ lives in the 19th century. The books then served as an inspiration for the TV show Little House on the Prairie, which ran from 1974 to 1982. Even though the Ingalls’ only lived in Walnut Grove for a couple of years, thousands visit the museum each year, and thousands more attend the Laura Ingalls Wilder Pageant each July.
It was decidedly quieter when I walked through the doors of the museum, even though it was field trip day for a class of second graders. They sat on the floor in a half circle, listening to one of the interpretive staff tell the story of the Ingall family, and I browsed the gift shop. The grounds of the museum house a collection of historic buildings resembling those the family might have encountered in their lives, like a schoolhouse, a store, a simple settler’s home, and a replica dugout home, like the one the Ingalls family built to survive their first winter.
I strolled through town and visited a couple of shops. Fond Memories, housed in the former Walnut Grove Creamery Association building, is a stamp and scrapbook store.
I had a chance to chat with owner Doreen Osland and her mother, Millie, for a while and learned that what started out as a hobby has turned into a very popular business, and people will travel an hour or more to attend one of their greeting card classes.
Plum Creek Boutique carries women’s clothes, but I was sent there on a mission to take pictures of things I thought Jen would like and text them to her. That’s a lot of responsibility, but I did well and walked out with a pair of flowery pajama pants. You could call this our own version of the QVC Channel.

It was mid-afternoon, and I needed a boost. Luckily, Walnut Grove has a coffee shop and roastery, which occupies the former Ferguson Clinic building across from the city park.
Owner Crystal Knakmuhs opened Half Pint Coffee Co. in June of 2024 and now sells coffee drinks and more than a dozen varieties of freshly roasted beans, including two decaf choices. I had my usual, coffee and a shot of espresso. My next stop was Plum Creek Park, and Crystal recommended a particular spot to see Virginia bluebells in full bloom. Of course, I had to see them, and with Walnut Grove in the rearview mirror, I moved on. Jen later told me that Half-Pint was the nickname Pa Ingalls called Laura, which supposedly is common knowledge. Turns out I was more of a Waltons guy back then.

215-acre Plum Creek Park is a well-liked destination in the region because it offers a lot of recreation opportunities. There’s a campground with tent and RV sites, six camper cabins, a disc golf course, hiking trails, and even a self-serve kayak rental on popular Laura Lake. It didn’t take me long to find the bluebells. This Minnesota native wildflower prefers well-watered river bottoms with plenty of shade, and the banks of Plum Creek had just what it took for a special show. They usually range in color from purplish to bluish, but I spotted a couple of patches of a pink variety, too.

Jen and I reunited later that evening for a special date night at Grandview Valley Winery in nearby Belview. The name is not hyperbole, and the only thing within view is the steeple of nearby Rock Dell Lutheran Church peeking over the treetops in the distance. Tucked into the Minnesota River Valley, the Rigge family has been turning Brianna, Itasca, and Sabrevois grapes into wine since 2011, featuring five whites, five reds, and two rosés in their lineup. Later, they added Prairie Fire Pizzeria, a very popular place to grab a pie in the area.
Another new venue on the premises added a touch of luxury to the vineyard, and it was our first stop. At Rivendell, we entered a fancy, swanky lounge bathed in opulence. The center of the two-story square room was the granite bar with a mirrored, wooden liquor display, tall enough to need a ladder for the top shelf stuff.
There was glistening wallpaper and shimmering upholstery in the booths below the mezzanine which rimmed the room on three sides with substantial oak beams. An oversized chandelier topped off the look of lavishness.
Jen and I had their alcohol-free Rivendell Smash, made with lemon juice,
honey, blackberries, ginger beer, mint, and a bourbon substitute. The lounge had its own menu, but we decided to move over to the winery and have a pizza.
There was a completely different vibe in the tasting room with its pine ceiling, exposed beams, and neon signs, but it was no less inviting. Their pizza menu features nearly three dozen pies, and we took a while to decide on one. A classic pepperoni is always appealing, but when do you get a chance to try a strawberry sriracha or Caribbean jerk chicken pizza? The winner was the crab rangoon variety, and it was a good choice. Who would have thought to combine sesame sauce, crab, and wonton strips on a pie?
We tucked in early to get ready for a busy Saturday.

Jen and I hit the road early and had breakfast at The Golden Rule Coffee House in downtown Redwood Falls. The long and narrow space was very inviting with exposed brick, warm tones, and a comfy lounge area. The smallest detail makes all the difference, and it was so good to see our coffee served in real cups and our breakfast sandwiches perched on real plates, decorated with a sprig of parsley. Of course, we snuck in an apple fritter, too.

With caffeine pulsing through our veins, we started checking out some of the shops in town. Unable to resist the call of the thrift, we first stopped at Bridge Street Bargains and found a busy store full of deals, deal hunters, and a friendly staff
At Overjoyed, Amanda Mathiowetz was just opening up shop when we walked in. The former arts teacher has put together a curious collection of home goods and local arts in a small store that seems to go on forever. “I’m a bit of a hoarder,” she said and pointed us to a watercolor painting by local artist Karen Hammerschmidt. This little treasure went home with us.
We struck gold again at Redwood Area Arts, where we picked up a wonderful linoleum block print by Nan Karr Kaufenberg. The fledgling organization occupies a small space on East Second Street and serves as a gallery and workshop space. When we arrived, customers were beginning to trickle in for a Saturday morning workshop led by volunteers.
We moved on to tour the historic Lower Sioux Agency in Morton, MN. According to the Lower Sioux Community website, the agency “was established in 1853 by the US government to serve as an administrative center for government efforts to remove the Bdewakantunwan and Wahpekute bands of Dakota to its reservation lands and to colonize them to become self-sufficient farmers.”
It was the site where, in 1862, a war broke out that involved Dakota warriors, settlers, and United States soldiers, went on for six weeks, and cost hundreds of lives.
In the mid-1800s, it was a bustling place, bringing together Dakota people, traders, farmers, tradespeople, and settlers at the edge of the Minnesota River valley. The Redwood Ferry shuttled goods and people across the undulating river.
We (and a troop of boy scouts on a field trip) studied the interpretive exhibits, which included a replica birch bark house, which we learned was a semi-permanent structure Dakota families moved into in parts of the year, like a modern-day cabin. 
The only remaining structure of the once busy agency is a stone warehouse near the interpretive building. We walked some of the trails on the property and had a good look at the Minnesota River Valley. It’s hard to imagine what happened here over 160 years ago, and we can’t recommend highly enough a visit to this historically important place to learn the full story.
The Spotted Bear Ale House, The Spott, for short, came highly recommended, and we headed to nearby Morgan, MN, to check it out. Under the light of the wagon wheel chandelier, we decompressed over a couple of beers and studied the menu. It all looked good, and the choice was tough. I went for the Piggy Melt, think patty melt, but with pulled pork. Jen took the Steakhouse burger and through a mouth full of food was able to relay that the French fries were like crispy mashed potatos. As is our custom, we traded bites, which is essentially rubbing food all over each other’s faces.
Back in Redwood Falls, we made an impromptu stop at the Redwood County Historical Museum. They don’t usually open until Memorial Day, but we were able to connect with Scott Larson, president of the organization, and he gave us a special sneak peek. The 1908 Spanish-style, two-story brick building was conceived as a refuge for people of lesser means, who lived in cabins on the property and were expected to work the fields in return. Also called the poor farm, it was in operation for many years, eventually became a nursing home, and finally, in 1978, became the home of the society’s ever-growing assortment of artifacts.
We marveled at the extent of the collection as Larson led us through room after themed room, filled to the brim with bits and pieces of the area’s past. 30 rooms, to be exact. A history buff sure could get lost in time, literally.

It was a beautiful spring day in Redwood Falls, and we put the kayaks in the water next. Westside Park is snuggled up to downtown and serves as the official boat landing for Lake Redwood, just upstream of the dam. With the roaring of the falling waters behind us, the buildings and noises of the city soon faded away, and our surroundings turned more natural. It was warm, the winds were calm, and the water flowed gently. Trees had just begun to unfurl their fresh leaves; it was a perfect spring day, and we were in a splendid mood. Eagles cruised above, fish swam below, and every log we passed was filled with bales of turtles, soaking up the sun. The only regret we had was leaving the fishing poles behind. It was eventually time to turn back, have a delicious camp dinner of South Forty pork steaks, and get ready for a special evening.

Dusk was approaching, and so was NightFalls. Celebrate Redwood Falls is a community organization that hosts several events in the area throughout the year, and for their (12th) annual spring shindig, Ramsey Park/Cansayapi turns into a family-friendly, after-dark extravaganza that involves 100 volunteers and nearly half a million lights. Just about at dusk, the displays turned on, and a steady caravan of cars began to snake its way into the valley and across the river as crowds were flocking in to see this unique spectacle. Behind the reflection of car windows, kids in back seats had their faces pressed against the glass, mesmerized by the sparkle.

Inside the park, families strolled four miles of lit, hilly trails and walked across eight illuminated bridges. Couples took selfies in front of sparkling hearts, and gaggles of teenagers roamed the woods in search of each other, while a DJ pumped music and smoke into the night. Down by the river, the smell of caramel corn and BBQ drew long lines like a carnival, and the beats of the Lower Sioux Community drum circle echoed in and out of the woods. Two waterfalls, Redwood and Ramsey Falls, were bathed in multi-colored lights, and from the observation platforms, people watched, transfixed, as the colors changed and the falls roared. It was a party in the park, and the streets of Redwood Falls must have been deserted. We had a front-row seat at the campground and dove right in to the festivities, mingling with the crowds.
And, like magic, the lights blinked off after 11pm, way past the hour our carriage usually turns into a pumpkin.

By the time we sauntered out of our camper the next morning, the army of NightFalls volunteers was back at it, rolling up miles of wire and stashing the magic away in totes until the next time. Our day started out with a delicious camp breakfast with the bacon from South Forty, then we packed up. We headed to Milroy, MN, just about 30 miles southwest of Redwood Falls, for the season opener game of the Milroy Irish baseball team. In this corner of southwestern Minnesota, town ball is alive and well, and the 250-soul hamlet of Milroy has not one but two amateur teams, each with its own stadium. Like a scene out of Field of Dreams, the Irish Yard’s floodlight stalks appeared on the horizon a few miles before we actually saw it, perched in the middle of a farm field.

We sat down in the bleachers of the 72-seat stadium, kicked back, and watched the game. Admittedly, neither Jen nor I are sports enthusiasts, but there’s something about this scene that held a special attraction for us. The close-cropped greens, the clay-stained uniforms, and the bright blue skies set the stage for the ritual: the umpire squats, the catcher kneels, the batter stirs the air with his bat, eyes fixed on the pitcher who winds up, and-everyone in the stands holds their breath-the pitch. If all goes well, there’s the crack of wood against leather that sends the ball deep into the outfield, or better yet, into the soybean fields beyond, and the crowd cheers. Kids dart from the stands to retrieve the ball, someone emerges from behind the scoreboard to change the numbers, and the ritual repeats. If there’s a lull in the action, it’s time to grab a burger and catch up with an old friend over a beer to find out just how exactly those soybeans are doing this year. In their 2025 season opener, things went the way of the Irish, and they beat Sleepy Eye 7-4.

On the way home we talked about how much we enjoyed our visit to Redwood County. We had met a lot of people over the last three days and took comfort in the fact that there are still people out there who come together for a walk in the park, a drum circle, to preserve history, or just a couple of beers at a ballgame.

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A person wearing a yellow helmet, sunglasses, and warm winter clothing smiles while outside in a snowy Minnesota landscape. They are pointing at something, perhaps one of the scenic mountain bike trails nearby, as the sun shines brightly overhead.

I’m Jan, the publisher of Minnesota Trails Magazine. I’m looking for that one trail, the next ride, a new discovery and other reasons to never sit still in Minnesota.

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