A Brief Travelogue Of Superior, Wisconsin

The Blatnik Bridge, known locally as “The High Bridge” is one of the three that connect Duluth, Minnesota to Superior, Wisconsin, and the only one that actually crosses Lake Superior. People have described Superior as many things. Majestic. Beautiful. Grand. You’ve always found it terrifying with over 550 shipwrecks and thousands of deaths to its credit.

Calling it a Lake is sort of a misnomer. It’s basically an inland sea, barely smaller than the Caspian and deeper than the Baltic. You honestly have no idea what monsters are lurking in its depths, and it feels like a geomantic sinkhole that continuously sucks everything that comes near back to it as soon as they get away. A rare few ever leave the area, but almost everyone comes back. You’ve met people in Duluth who have lived there for 70 years and never set foot in Wisconsin.

The bridge drops you onto Hammond Avenue, which can jokingly be referred to as the civic center of the city. A fire station, city hall, and the Douglas County Courthouse are all along this stretch between the bridge and Belknap Street. If Hammond is the civic center, Belknap is the main drag, stretching from one side of town to the other and dividing the business district from the residential. Your destination is on the far side of it, and you calmly sit at the stop light out front of the cop shop watching the snow fall.

The drive down Hammond to 28th Street takes you past a mixture of run down dilapidated houses and relatively solid, well taken care of family homes. 21st really marks the break between the haves and have-nots, with the property values ascending as you travel south. The light at 28th marks your turning point, and a quick right takes you to the intersection of Tower Avenue.

Every college town has a Tower Avenue, even if it’s not called that. Pittsburgh has Carson Street on the South Side. Atlanta has “Malt Disney”. Memphis has the immortal Beale. Superior Wisconsin is home to UWS and Arrowhead Technical, but calling it a college town is something of a stretch. Still Tower Avenue, at least north of Belknap, is one long pub crawl. You’ve heard it said that everything bad for you is cheaper in Wisconsin, and the lower sin tax is the proof of that. Superior is where Duluth goes to drink.

South of Belknap, the direction you’re headed, is more business district. KMart and Target used to be here before they closed. Walmart is further up. You turn between two restaurants, Grizzly’s on the left, a regional steak house, and Wasabi, an all you can eat sushi buffet (surprisingly tasty for something this far away from the ocean). Neither of these is your destination as you roll past them and into a private drive.

New Perspective is an impressive building, tan and red on the exterior and stretching the length of about a city block. The wing on the left is only a single floor with a separate entrance, while the main building stands an imposing three stories. An archway hangs over a drop-off lane in front of the main lobby, with a service entrance just to the left. You pull into one of the numerous parking spots in the lot, noting that the snow has developed into pretty heavy flurries and is just starting to stick. You carefully adjust your collar as Beth dons her habit, and grabbing a well worn copy of the New American Bible you exit the car and make your way to the entrance, your black wingtips crunching on the newly fallen snow.