By Liz Voosen
We were toolin’ along down Highway 212 in southwest Minnesota. Farmland rolled away from the two-lane country road in all directions. We were headed to the town of Vesta, MN, population 311.
I was excited to go back, and also a little nervous that it might have changed a lot. My kids were in the back of our Pleasure-Way van, and it would be their first time visiting this tiny prairie town, where my grandmother grew up and our old family farm lay.
The last time I had been in Vesta, I was a just kid myself. My family took annual trips to visit my aging great-great-aunt and check in on the farm. Good memories surround those times – sky-highcorn plants, packs of friendly farm dogs, and riding a tractor for the first time. But the drive there was also memorable. Hours spent listening to cassette tapes purchased at gas stations on the way – Muddy Waters, Buddy Holly – blended with the recordings made at home of records – Ella Jenkins, the Flashdance movie soundtrack. It was an eclectic mix. Add in a few car games, and it kept the cows in the fields from becoming too monotonous. I loved those drives.
Decades later, my kids are with me on the same route. There are no more cassette tapes at gas stations. But Walmart sells DVDs, and everything else can be downloaded instantly online, from the comfort of the couch in the back of our van. I am listening to bits of the Barbie movie, SpongeBob, and obscure internet shows. The kids get to hear my playlist of Darius Rucker, 80s music, and also risk picking up a few tips from finance podcasts I’m finally finding the time to listen to. The fields of cows haven’t changed at all. We are driving into the setting sun, headed west. I spot the turn-off to Vesta and we pull into town.
Vesta’s town center is where Broadway and Centre streets meet. The old brick building on the corner used to house the hardware store and sits empty now, but the Vesta Café across the street is still serving pure Americana cuisine, such as burgers, grilled cheese, biscuits and gravy, and eggs. And just like when I was a kid, today it brings in local farmers, business folk, and families. I can see the grain elevators at the edge of town from where I stand, rising up over the horizon, a symbol of the region’s 100+ year history of farming.
On the other side of this intersection sits a large rock with a plaque on it, where a house once stood. This is a part of what we’ve come to see. My grandmother grew up in the house that sat on this corner. It was also the town’s medical center back in the early days of Vesta, and my great-great-uncle was the doctor. The house is gone now, but my memories of exploring the old “hospital rooms” and the infirmary, with its ancient medical tools and green faded walls are vivid. I recall afternoons of 4 generations of family sitting in that kitchen catching up on the news. It’s a touching moment, standing in that same spot with my kids, reading the plaque, and telling them stories that stretch back decades, to even before I was born.
The sun was sinking fast, rain clouds were rolling in, and we still had one more stop on the day’s itinerary. It made for a striking sky, in the humid summer weather. I hoped we would be spared rain. We were headed next to visit the old family farm just outside of town.
We hopped back in the van, and travelled down an even smaller two-lane road than the one we came in on. And shortly, off to the right, stretching out toward the horizon, was the farm and the Redwood River that runs through it. This farm was where I learned to drive, timidly at first, then faster and more competently down the bumpy dirt road. We also had space to shoot at clay pigeons and Coke cans, and explore the wilderness in a way I couldn’t as an urban kid at home.
Today, the land is owned by the Minnesota Department of Natural Resources. It is a gorgeous shade of deep green and purples with dots of yellow and orange. Wildflowers and native prairie grasses, including yellow Lotus corniculatus (Birds-foot Trefoil), Melilotus albus (White Sweet Clover), and purple clover dot the landscape in mid-summer, along with volunteer shoots of wheat leftover from farming days. Deer and fox roam through the land undisturbed. Remnants of the dirt road are visible, as are multiple animal tracks crossing them.
We walk along the old track, towards the river, until the grasses are above my waist, and the ground gets muddy. Pausing, we listen to the stillness. To the birds. To the insects. I tell more family stories, as we walk back towards our van, stopping to look at plants and scan for wildlife. It is a magical moment, and time seems to stand still.
We linger to watch the sun set over the fields, before heading out to our next stop.
A little more about Vesta, MN.
Vesta sits about two hours southwest of Minneapolis. It is named after Vesta Vail Hotchkiss, but Roman history buffs may know Vesta better as the goddess of hearth and home. First settled in 1868, and incorporated in 1900, this prairie community has remained remarkably stable since its inception. Since the first census in 1900, when it had 214 residents, to its heyday in 1980 with 360 people, it clocks in at 311 residents today.
Surrounded by farmland growing wheat, soy, and corn, Vesta offers a glimpse of authentic small-town Minnesota life. The Redwood River flows through the southeastern edge of town (and eventually flows into the Mississippi River). The Vesta Café, at 139 N Broadway St, provides a welcome and down-home stop for grabbing a bite to eat and chatting with locals.
Located on Highway 19, Vesta is just 25 miles from Marshall, MN, the region’s largest town with a hospital, shopping, and mini-golf.
In my next post, we continue westward from Vesta and explore Camden State Park and Pipestone National Monument. It’s the perfect launch point to hop onto I-90 and continue west to South Dakota’s well-known attractions, such as Badlands National Park and Mount Rushmore.