While Clem competed over the next three days, I visited the competition: the Minneapolis Institute of Art and the Walker Art Center. At MIA I spent most of my time in the Asian collections, arguably some of the best in the West. At the Walker I saw the Keith Haring retrospective, which made a compelling case for looking at him as a much more profound figure than his overexposed graffiti works might allow. The adjacent sculpture park, across the highway from the lake in the iconic Mary Tyler Moore opening sequence, was also a draw.

After the competition finished, we drove with my mom up the North Shore to Duluth and eventually Grand Marais. My notes recollect piles of iron ore along the water near Duluth, and miles of soon-to-be-opened new highway ramps leading nowhere within the metropolis. Clem particularly enjoyed the goat cheese and honey icea cream at Love Creamery, across from the cannabis shop with the overgrown philodendron winding up the window, and I recall the fiery kimchi benedict at the Vanilla Bean diner and our swank AirBnB along the lakeshore. As we left Duluth, the coast of Wisconsin disappeared into the rainy distance.

Much of the short drive out to Eagle Mountain was on dirt track. By the time we reached the trailhead, an orange dust coated the rental car. There was little time to document or enjoy the scenery. The infamous mosquitoes of the summer months were waiting, and we practically ran up and down the mountain. For the first time ever I deployed by head bug net, which had sat for years unused among my camping apparatus.

I would be remiss in my remembrances if I failed to mention our afternoon at the Mall of America. It was not awful. We played two rounds of mini golf, shopped at a specialty board-games emporium, and scarfed down surprisingly hot Chinese dumplings before flying home.