By Dear Minnesota,
We've been meaning to write to you for some time. Let us start by saying we have truly enjoyed our journey together, and no matter what happens we will always remember the good moments. You were the first state on our journey, and during our weeks together we saw some amazing things. Do you remember the bald eagle that took flight less than 50 feet from our canoe? Or how we camped out on a small island during our marathon tour of Lake Winnibigoshish? Those were some special times.
(I mean look at that view!)
Unfortunately, the rest of this letter will not be as joyful. We're writing to tell you we'll be leaving soon, and we think it would be best if we didn't speak again. Now instead of ending the letter here we'll dive (unnecessarily) into your many faults.
For starters, we know It's bad form to criticize your appearance, but its gotten to the point where something needed to be said. When we began our relationship all of your campsites were clearly marked and easily accessible. However, as the days passed your signs became more hidden; and finding a well maintained (mowed) and quickly reachable site turned into nothing more than a fantasy. They say beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, but for us the only beauty we could find was when we closed our eyes.
(I mean how on God's green earth were we supposed to see this from the river?)
Number two on the list would be your fear of labels. From the moment we started you had an issue of defining where we were and where we were going. Not once in our over 500 miles together did we see a sign clearly stating we were on the Mississippi River. We're not asking to be reminded every mile, but just once (especially when you intersected with what could have been a 100 mile detour on Crow Wing River) did we see an affirmation we were headed on the right path.
(One of these is the Mississippi River, and the other is the Crow Wing River.)
From fear of commitment to shifts in personality the catalog continues. We'll admit things improved as we moved along, but for half of our journey you couldn't make up your mind. During the same day (and sometimes even the same hour) you shifted from gorgeous and sunny to unleashing a storm so fierce even Poseidon would run and hide. That's not even mentioning the nights! I mean how can you go from 80 during the day to the low 30's in the evening! As you can imagine all of this made for some stormy (pun intended) afternoons, and at this point we're looking for a state that's more consistent.
Finally, (and perhaps we should have led with this) we feel like we’re in a one way relationship. I know the Proclaimers had no problem walking 500 miles for their special someone, but they weren't carrying a canoe. We've had to portage up mountains, through nonexistent boat ramps, and don't even get us started on our mile and a half adventure in Minneapolis. If that wasn't enough you knew right from the start Jean was a major part of our lives. However, you've been anything but gentle to her. We can deal with a few bumps and scrapes, but did you have to puncture her too? That was uncalled for.
Listen I'm not saying you're solely to blame. Things happen and well people change. We hope you understand where we’re coming from, and perhaps one day we can put this all behind us.
Sincerely,
Not Quite LC
PS- We are still open for an on again off again relationship (like any good tv sitcom would call for). Maybe we’ll send you a text when we see a beautiful sunset, and you'll text back after you've had one too many Bud Light Lime-A-Ritas. I mean this would be the next logical step seeing how we’ll be bordering Wisconsin and yourself for the next few hundred miles or so.
