In the land of the blind

How does a tourist town that’s buried under several feet of snow during the long cold winters of northern Minnesota survive without any males? Barbie explained the next day when we drove into Duluth so I could return my rental and possibly buy a beater with a heater to get me by.

“So after the taconite veins played out and the mines closed a couple years back, most of the men in town went pipelining into in Alaska. Once in a blue moon one of ‘em comes home for a couple months, and they all send massive paychecks to their wives and daughters, but with only a couple exceptions, those being the elderly or the extremely young, the town is populated exclusively by women.”

Which explains why a 20-something hottie like you is trying to be my best friend, and every other woman I meet treats me like something from the butcher’s counter. Get starved for male attention long enough and even a guy that looks like me becomes something of a commodity.

“Hate to be a wet blanket, but what exactly does that mean for the town’s future prospects, like say in a generation or two?”

“Truth be told we haven’t really thought that far ahead. Right now it’s about survival, and the town does pretty well in tourist season… so about three months out of the year.”

“Let me get this straight… Black Beach Bay depends entirely on three good months of fishermen and Boundary Waters explorers, and otherwise subsides on income from a bunch of guys in Alaska?”

“That’s about the gist of it.”

“So… what do you all do for the other nine months?”

“Survive and try to stay warm. Hey, I love this song!” She turns up the volume on the car stereo which is currently playing from one of my Pandora playlists. I wasn’t really choosy about my driving music, so what’s blaring now as we barrel down Highway 61 is late ‘90s German techno. Specifically “Spank My Booty” by Lords of Acid. I have the grace to look at least a little sheepish as she starts singing along and grooving in her seat, causing interesting things to happen to her barely restrained bust.

Yep. I’m in trouble.

The beater with a heater turns out to be a 2003 Kia Sorento that costs me three grand cash, which Barbie assures me is a good investment as according to her, there are only two seasons here, winter and July, and this particular SUV has four wheel drive.

“Sometimes for fun folks drive into Duluth to shop or catch some night life, but two hours is a pretty long haul. It’s not really worth doing unless you make a day of it.”

Barbie insists we stop for lunch at a place called Sir Benedict’s Tavern before heading back along the North Shore, and I’m glad that she did when I take the first bite out of one of the best roast beef sandwiches I’ve ever had.

The drive back is just as uneventful as the drive in, except now my companion is incredibly caffeinated, which somehow makes her even more bubbly. She excitedly points out landmarks along the way and somehow manages to wrangle a promise out of me to take her for a nice leisurely drive next week when we have no business. It’s about nine pm by the time we get back and I crash after a hot shower and scarfing down my lunch leftovers.