A little over a year ago I packed up the cats and the U-Haul and the car and drove up from southeast Minnesota, through The Cities, way, way, wayyy Up North, to live in this far-off place I'd heard of as a kid.

Frostbite Falls.

The Icebox of the Nation.

Borderland.

Didn't know what to expect. But here are some findings as I re-pack the cats and the U-Haul and the faithful car and head south to Forest City, Iowa, where I've accepted the editor's position at the weekly Summit newspaper (it's hard to get newspapering out of your blood, especially after learning the hard way that you are to blue collar jobs what cats are to nuclear fission. Although that might be a disservice to cats).

  • Borderlanders are among the world's nicest people. So many smile and wave and say hi and stop to chat. They truly want to know how you're doing. They care. They want to help.

Most folks here will cheerfully stop what they're doing to give directions.

“He's looking for the trap-shooting range, Marge. THE TRAP-SHOOTING RANGE. OK, just take Highway 11 here to Second Bridge, hang a right, take the road all the way down, 'til it turns to gravel. Go right at the big rock and follow the tracks. Road kinda angles around. It'll take you right there.”

“Good, good. Thanks much.”

“Yup, you betcha. Good luck!”

  • There's great community pride, and leadership.

Someone is always dressing our Smokey Bear in seasonal attire. Others plan special events, dedicating themselves to helping others in need (see: Ruby's Pantry, the Falls Hunger Coalition, KOOTASCA, the Salvation Army, etc.), and promoting arts and culture (see: Backus Community Center).

Still others are determined to push toward economic betterment with the Voyage Forward venture. You go, guys!

  • Gotta love Smokey Bear Park. Wonderful gathering spot for music and fun (see: The Dirty Dozen, E-Sharp Harp Blues Band, Icebox Radio Theater, etc.). So many folks came home and gathered in the ol' park for this year's Falls High School All-Class Reunion. Which was a fabulous good time.

And there's fun to be had in Ranier, Birchdale, Littlefork, Big Falls, and all around. Always something going on.

  • Speaking of pride and enthusiasm, check out the happy faces (usually bundled deep in warm jackets) of those who love the quintessentially Borderland winters.

They revel in history, tradition, and heritage: hockey, deer-hunting, frozen-solid lakes, hockey, ice roads (!!!), blizzards, and hockey. Icebox Days features boot hockey, frozen-turkey bowling, something called “smooshing,” and golf with hockey sticks and tennis balls on minus-30-degree days on wind-swept Rainy Lake.

As they say elsewhere when the talk turns to wintering in International Falls and vicinity:

“O.M.G. Seriously?”

"Yup!"

  • Of course, Borderland is THE outdoor destination spot. Visitors travel up here to enjoy what everyone marvels about down south: Rainy Lake, the Rainy River, Voyageurs National Park, Kabetogama Lake and all the rest.

Holy cow, check out Rainy Lake from the Noden Causeway, east of Fort Frances. Bald eagles congregating on islands off the far end of Highway 11.

You might see a black bear or a moose - or the northern lights. And hear the eerie sound of wolves howling – that legendary Up North call of the wild. Vital, mysterious nature at its best.

I've always liked driving through Indus. A highway sign says "Indus." You look for the city and see scenic woods. And more woods. Lots of tall birch trees. Maybe some pines.

Woods, woods, woods.

Hold on. There's the Indus School. Where there are all of about 100 students from pre-school through high school, learning about their outdoor heritage with the help of enthusiastic teachers. A graduating class is usually comprised of 10 or 12 seniors.

One or two of those students might someday live in Los Angeles or New York City or Bangkok, and their friends would naturally ask where they went to school, where it all started.

How proud they should be to say: "Indus, Minnesota."

"Where is THAT?"

"Uh ... it's by Canada. Kind of out in the woods ..."

I recently stopped at a house where someone had placed a table full of free stuff near the curb. Found a dinner plate commemorating the long history of Bethany Lutheran Church in tiny, unincorporated Loman.

It's a nice little memento of classic, laid-back, smiley, fun-loving northern Minnesota. Way up here where the air is clean and cool, the fish are biting, and the people and their directions are good.

God bless Borderland.

Best wishes, everybody. Thanks for being you.