wisconsin – The Good Ship Watermelon

The Midwest has its faults. Having lived in Iowa and Wisconsin for most of my life, I can tell you that everything you’ve heard about the corn-to-human ratio is true. We are not generally people of great worldliness or sophistication. We’ve been known to say “libary.” We are adamant that cheese curds belong in the food pyramid, somewhere between cheap lager and Culver’s Butter Burgers.

But man, do we have a lock on autumn.

Here’s the thing: when all those overpriced catalogues and cutesy craft blogs try to sell you the idea of “autumn,” they’re talking about our autumn. California’s got some things going for it, but go looking for a cup of hot cider on a wagon ride through a pumpkin patch full of vibrant autumnal hues and you will be disappointed, my friend.

One of my favorite things to do in autumn in the Midwest is head up to Reedsburg, Wisconsin, for Fermentation Fest, an annual event that features workshops on making everything from yogurt to kombucha, as well as food vendors and community meals.

The event is put on by the Wormfarm Institute, a local arts organization and artist residency program in Reedsburg. I was lucky enough to be one of their writers-in-residence way back in 2012, and came back to manage the residency for a season in 2015. They do amazing work connecting local artists, farmers, chefs, and performers across what is lovingly referred to as “the rural-urban continuum.”

If you’re an urban citizen who’s never given much thought to the rural side of that continuum, driving out to Reedsburg through golden farmlands under a clear October sky is a great way to start. After you’ve spent a day talking to real actual farmers, watching the local dance troupe perform in a beanfield, and tasting fresh sourdough as you learn about the fermentation of yeast, you’ll start to see the area outside your little dot on the map in a very different light.

(OK, so I’ve written a lot of promotional copy for these guys. That doesn’t make it any less true.)

Sean and I made it up to Reedsburg for the last day of the Fermentation Fest. We didn’t have time to sign up for workshops, but we were able to catch the resident artists’ show at the Wormfarm Institute’s downtown gallery.

Seeing Reedsburg in its fall glory and catching up with all the good folks there completed my Wisconsin nostalgia trip. Which is a good thing, because it’s about time for us to mosey on.

Part of me wishes I could stay forever, but…

Next, we’ll head towards North Carolina, with a few fun (and hopefully warmer) stops in between. Home stretch, here we come!

Ten years ago, I did not ring this doorbell.

I was already late for my first band practice with the eccentric stranger who’d answered my “New in Town, Looking to Jam!” ad on Craiglist. I could already hear her playing inside, so instead of interrupting, I decided to just march into her house without announcing myself.

That eccentric stranger turned out to be a badass musician, artist, and luthier named Ellie, and it was to be the first of many times I would barge into her house unannounced over the years. Typically, I would be met on these occasions with offerings of food and an invitation to see the guitar she was building in her workshop — or the oak log she was chain-sawing into a Tiki head, or the surreal sculpture she’d assembled out of abandoned toys.

I ended up living with Ellie and her wife, Kori — a writer and engineer who served as tech sorceress for the many bands Ellie played in — for two and a half years during college. First, I was crashing in a broken-down RV in their driveway (the first of many vehicles I would live in, it turned out); then, when the Wisconsin winter set in, I moved to the spare bedroom.

A portrait of Ellie and Kori. OK, not really, but they did dress these skeletons up as themselves and put them on the buffet table at their wedding.

Though densely populated with mannequins, skulls, creepy dolls, and alarmingly realistic rubber masks, Ellie and Kori’s house always felt safe and homey to me. I liked to call it “The Baldwin Street Home for Wayward Girls,” because, in addition to myself, there seemed to be an endless flow of friends and friends-of-friends occupying the spare bedrooms and empty couches.

When Sean and I decided to stay in Wisconsin for a while to pick up some work, I wasn’t surprised to find that Ellie and Kori had a vacancy; the house has a mind of its own at times, seeming to direct its own flow depending on who needs what.

We’re still not entirely sure what the next step is, but at least we’ve got a soft place to land. I’m doing full-time farm work for a former employer of mine, and Sean’s picked up a modeling gig.

OK, he’s working at a restaurant. And, as usual, making the world a more colorful and beautiful place.

In a couple weeks we’ll head towards North Carolina to close our great cross-continental loop and reunite with our poor abandoned cat. (Apparently my mom’s been feeding her fresh salmon and tuna, so she may or may not be in a hurry to take us back.)

It’s been a crazy and miraculous trip. Soon it’ll be time for the next adventure: figuring out where home is.

Category: wisconsin

Autumnal Wonderland: Wisconsin (part 2)

Home (Away from Home) Sweet Home: Madison, WI