Growing Up Outdoors: Minnesota Memories

Written by Allison Jurek, Upstream Care for Place Fellow

I cannot recall a time when Minnesota’s dirt, water, and green spaces were sprawled in front of me, that I was not allowed to explore. From backyards to mud puddles and fishing boats to garden rows, all I knaew of these spaces was to relish in the opportunities they had to offer. It was times I spent quietly observing the birds at the feeder alongside my grandmother or inquisitively pulling weeds from the garden’s dirt with my mother. It was trips to fish from a roadside ditch with a cane pole and bobber with my dad and sitting in a boat with my grandfather waiting for the crappie bite at dusk. Before my casting skills could be trusted, he fashioned a rope around my wrist and the pole, linking the two and ensuring I would not inadvertently cast the entire rod and reel into the water. I wonder how many poles he lost before coming up with this trick.

In all these moments of my childhood, all I ever observed of time spent outdoors was joy. Certainly, there was work to be done to prepare for such adventures, this I knew. I also came to know that my grandmother would share with me her knowledge of the birds that came to visit her feeders without me asking. My mother would patiently answer any and all questions, weed-related or not, as we sat in the moist dirt. My dad would untangle and bait as many lines as necessary to keep my brothers and me catching fish. My grandfather’s gentle wisdom in the boat had a way of never leaving me feeling truly ‘skunked’.

As a parent now myself I can truly appreciate the actions of my parents and grandparents. I was never reprimanded for getting dirty. In fact, I can vividly recall a time when my brothers and I lathered nearly our entire bodies with mud after a heavy summer rain. The moment was proudly documented by photograph, our smiles beaming. Grass stains were tolerated, sunscreen was reapplied, campfires were stoked, mason jars held fireflies, minnow buckets hung at the dock, soggy mittens were hung to dry and runny noses from the cold were wiped.

I don’t doubt there were times when we caused trouble and were handed consequences, times when a parent or grandparent’s patience was tested. It just so happens that all I can remember is the freedom to be a kid in the great outdoors of Minnesota, the freedom to explore, play, and learn. What I remember is not only the willingness of the adults in my life to permit this but also their eagerness to share it with me. Now I see what a gift this was. It didn’t take expensive or elaborate trips into the wilderness for me to receive this gift. It only took an eager heart and patience. Receiving the gift of knowing Minnesota as a place to live and love is just too grand not to share. It is through sharing this gift that I hope I can instill a love of this place in others, for you cannot love what you do not know. How do you protect and preserve a place for generations to come if you do not love it? A love can be rekindled or sparked anew, wherever you fall, Minnesota’s outdoors awaits.

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