Baptism River Inn

Even though we got a late start, we still stopped, as required by tradition, at the Lester River information booth on the north side of Duluth to get the first look at the lake and skip a few rocks. We ate a late lunch at Rustic Inn, which had been recommended by one of Kathy’s co-workers and we found the service friendly, the surroundings unpretentious, and the food good. I enjoyed the vegetable beef soup a lot and I told the server so. She shrugged and said the chef put chili powder in it. I also ordered a walleye poorboy, which came in focochia rather than a bun. I bought a blue cup with the Rustic Inn logo as a souvenir. It was all good and I would like to go back.

We stopped at Split Rock Lighthouse and got our first look since the recent remodeling. I didn’t have a vivid memory of what it was like before, but mostly noticed that the visitor’s center didn’t have the worn look that is so typical of state park visitor’s centers. We watched the requisite historical movie, toured the lighthouse and other buildings, and walked down the path that goes steeply down to the site of the old dock on the lake. I took the same picturesque photos that most other tourists get.

After Split Rock, we drove on to the Baptism River Inn where we were going to spend the next two nights. We turned off Highway 61 at Illgen City, one of those little towns that exist on maps, but in reality hardly fit in the category of “town.” We drove away from the lake on Highway 1 for a few miles and finally turned onto a winding gravel drive that took us through the woods across a small wooden bridge built over a rushing stream and finally to the large log house that was the inn. The inn has three guest rooms and a suite, a guest parlor with a fireplace, and an atmosphere of relaxation and solitude. We found dinner at a little bar/restaurant down the road that had the baseball game on a large screen TV—one of those adequate, forgettable meals. Then we went back to the inn, opened the windows to let in the cool, fall air and the night sounds, like the mournful far-away howling of wolves. It is possible that the wolves were really dogs, but howling dogs wouldn’t be in keeping with the north woods experience that we were seeking.

Baptism River Inn