All I wanted was some gooey, mountain cheese
I think it’s only fitting that I return to my travel blog in a new year with a transformed voice. I’m not quite the same person I was just a few short months ago. After an unannounced hiatus to focus on progressive organizing and IVF, I’m exhausted and contemplative. I’m less concerned with creating perfectly curated content. There’s so much weighing on all of our minds, and I find myself inclined to forgive rawness. That should include my own. That said, I still care very much about building a space focused on the messy intersection of travel, parenting, and infertility (oh, and finances — they’ll definitely be part of our mess this year).
So, it makes sense to re-enter my “Go Anyway” space with the imperfect and chaotic story of our family trip to Duluth, Minnesota. If this trip were a board game, it would be littered with “lose a turn” squares, along with extra points, just when you least expect them.
The short version is that it probably wasn’t wise to plan a family trip up north in snowy December, just days after an IVF cycle. Pitfalls and emotions were abundant. As always, we learned a bit more about ourselves and who we are while traveling. This adventure was poorly timed, but it meandered its way into some great memories. Let’s dive into the plot twists and insights:
Nervous Planning (my special talent)
This trip was a long time in the making. I took a job as a campaign manager in my home state of Iowa this summer, which meant putting my travel plans on pause. As I knocked door after door and planned fundraisers with my candidate (who was amazing), I knew there was light at the end of the electoral tunnel. I hoped election-night success would be part of that light (it wasn’t), but I was sure there would be a grand adventure.
Of course, IVF has no regard for elections or travel plans. This election spat me out in a heap of grief and progesterone shots. Our next embryo transfer was just weeks away, and the task was to process the election results while accessing enough peace to become pregnant (good luck, me!). That left little time for my oft-daydreamed trip. But I’ve mentioned in the past that traveling helps us process both good and bad IVF news. We knew this trip would serve dual purposes: healing our political wounds and helping us transition into post-transfer life, whatever that might look like.
Our first plan involved a tour of “Christmas towns” across the Midwest. I considered Bardstown, Kentucky, along with Santa Claus, Indiana. Ultimately, this came out a little over budget. And, to be perfectly honest, we weren’t jazzed about traveling out of one bright red state and into a couple of others so soon after the election. Cue our second and final draft.
This plan was a nod to Tim Walz fueled by my love for giant waves, an unfortunate passion for someone in the center of the U.S., but perhaps not a surprising one. When the ocean is too far off, Lake Superior is a first-place second choice. It’s mammoth and mind-blowing. On this trip, I was hoping to catch the end of November’s mighty gales. They would certainly fit my mood.
So, Duluth was our answer. We would stay at Fitger’s Inn (I have so many good things to say about them), explore Canal Park, and visit the Bentleyville Tour of Lights and the Great Lakes Aquarium.
Travel as Distraction
We booked our (refundable) room just days before our pregnancy test. When we got the call from our fertility clinic, it was hard to register a reaction. My emotions were stuck in an agonizing gridlock. HCG was present in my blood. That meant we weren’t not pregnant. But there wasn’t enough in my system to say with confidence that we were pregnant. And it was a Friday, which meant we couldn’t retest until Monday. Cue an absolute anxiety spiral over the next 72 hours. We were prepared to cancel our trip, but we hoped the cancelling would result from good news: a pregnancy requiring a bit of extra monitoring near home.
We got the news late that Monday morning that this outcome wasn’t ours. I had experienced a chemical pregnancy. My HCG level had dropped to nearly nothing, and the pregnancy was no longer progressing.
We had gone through failed embryo transfers before, but not in this particularly harrowing manner. I don’t have too many words for this pain, but I can say that anxiety somehow outweighed grief, even after we got the news. With just one embryo left, and insufficient money or time to try again, the pressure became overwhelming. We kept our travel plans as a way to decompress. Unfortunately, even our simple trip to Duluth was poised to come apart at the seams.
A Series of Pitfalls
We were set to head out of town on Saturday, December 7. So, naturally, the universe sent us an ice storm (Pitfall 1). The worst was due the morning we planned to leave. We agonized over rescheduling — we’re a bit desensitized to Iowa’s winters — and finally decided to postpone by a day. Fitger’s Inn had no qualms about moving our reservation, and they actually charged us less, since Sunday had a less expensive rate. We were off to a great start with them.
On Sunday, we woke up on time, packed the car, and got our toddler ready, all without much delay. We were in good shape. We spent the first four hours of the drive aimlessly rehashing the battle of “Friends” vs. “Seinfeld” (I’m not the world’s most ardent “Friends” defender, but I do loathe “Seinfeld”).
Our first stop would be a late lunch in Minneapolis. We were excited to visit the Minneapolis Christkindl Market. I’ve always enjoyed Christkindlmarket Des Moines, and this event promised to be even more expansive and grand. Plus, there would be raclette. This was actually the main reason I wanted to stop. I didn’t get the chance to truly be pregnant, but I still wound up with cravings.
With cheese in mind, I helped my husband navigate to the correct exit. We peeled off, and BAM: the deepest and most cavernous pothole I’ve ever encountered. It swallowed our passenger-side tires and sunk its teeth in immediately. When it was finished with us, we were left with an utterly undriveable car (Pitfall 2, in case you were wondering).
We hobbled to the nearest gas station, and I spotted someone who seemed to be a police officer (spoiler alert: he wasn’t). I regaled him with the Tale of the Dangerous Potholes That Shouldn’t Exist, and he stared back with ambiguous concern. Later on, my husband clued me in that he was probably an off-duty security guard, not a cop. Let’s call this panic-fueled embarrassment Pitfall 2.5, which we can couple with Pitfall 3: the compressed air wasn’t working. This doesn’t count as a full pitfall, because it wouldn’t have helped, anyway. Our tires were toast.
Not-an-officer gave us directions to a nearby tire store, and we made our way over. Quick backstory: My husband’s dream car is a Prius Prime, and we finally acquired one recently, after much to-do. The car is sleek and eco-friendly, as promised, but it’s not the best family-travel vehicle. Putting our daughter in her carseat requires too much awkward bending and kneeling, and room for luggage is scarce. The RAV4 Prime might have been a better choice. On this fateful afternoon in Minneapolis, tire size was the problem. The Prius Prime has extra large tires that Firestone would have to special order (Pitfall 4).
So, we spent our first night in a hotel fortuitously located right across from the tire store (in my imagined conspiracy, the intentional pothole leads to the nearby tire store that drums up business for the neighboring hotel). We did not make it to the Christmas market in time, even though it was walkable. Instead, I soothed my cheese craving with chips and queso, along with a black bean burger, at The Bulldog Downtown. Then, we settled in to wait.
Duluth, at Last
Fast forward to lunchtime the next day, and we were back on the road. The tire arrived overnight, and Firestone managed to squeeze us in as our daughter scattered Cheerios throughout their lobby. We had an amazing brunch at Eggy’s Diner, where I ordered — get ready for this — French toast stuffed with Nutella and peanut butter. Then, we headed north.
I’m thrilled to report that a majority of the trip to follow was filled with joy. Our savior, Fitger’s Inn, casually upgraded us to a presidential suite at no extra charge when we arrived. Lakeside wind and gentle, playful snow swept us into our top-floor room with a fireplace, jacuzzi, and kitchen table. Major win.
Let’s break down Fitger’s. I absolutely love this destination. During summer, one of my favorite travel experiences is to traipse down a sunny, cobbled road, exploring the main-street coffee shops, book stores, pubs, and novelty shops. At Fitger’s, you’ll find all of this indoors, on the same campus as your hotel. The inn is located in a historic brewery, and the building houses an entire mall, complete with a taproom, coffee shop, bookstore, specialty grocery store, Mexican restaurant, and several other adorable shops. The whole place was decked out in vintage decorations for Christmas, and the vibe was very easygoing and classic.
Of course, our room was impeccable. Clean, spacious, and utterly cozy. We’ve stayed at several hotels with jacuzzis over the years, and they can be hit or miss. Sometimes, the water won’t heat up to temperature, or the bubbles don’t work. This one filled up quickly, bubbled perfectly, and it was “just right”.
Canal Park, Bentleyville, Lake, Aquarium
To close out this lengthy but cathartic post, here are some highlights from our time in Duluth:
- Canal District: A shopping area with a mood, beside the lake and the scenic Aerial Lift Bridge. At places of extremity, I always pick up a pleasantly suspenseful, chilling vibe, and this was no exception. We enjoyed the DeWitt–Seitz Marketplace, Father Time Antiques, and mozzarella sticks at Green Mill. If you’re exploring DeWitt–Seitz with a baby or toddler, note that the changing stations can be found in the restrooms on the ground floor.
- Bentleyville: A sight to behold. However, our toddler was bothered by the cold temperature, even though we bundled up. She was wow-ed, but she was also crying as we left. The line for Santa was insane, so we didn’t wait. We did really appreciate the complementary popcorn, cocoa, and cookies. It’s nice to know families have access to the whole experience, regardless of income barriers, since entrances is also free. Parking does cost $10.00.
- Lake Superior: We tried to hike in December with a stroller, and this was a weird choice on our part. We plan to revisit Split Rock Lighthouse State Park and try again when it’s warmer. Although Lake Superior was giving ripples instead of gales, we still got to see a couple breathtaking views at the park. And the hour-long drive up the coast was also enjoyable.
- Great Lakes Aquarium: I’ll be sure to update my aquarium round-up post with more details, but in short, this was a lovely stop. We spent about two hours exploring. There was a very active octopus that put on a show, along with a spooky lamprey and an interesting exhibit about Lake Baikal (any Spooky Lake Month fans out there?).
- Restaurants: I will be craving Pizza Luce every day of my life until we go back. They’re very vegetarian-friendly, and now, they’re the reason I can say I like pineapple on pizza. I ordered The Rustler, which also features BBQ sauce, banana peppers, and mock duck. My husband and I also adored Fitger’s Brewhouse, which offers its own wide variety of veggie options, including Minnesota’s famous wild rice burger.
As we head into 2025, I can’t promise the year won’t pummel me back into a second hiatus. We’re looking ahead at our final(?) IVF cycle, along with some financial hurdles and a mountain of political woes. That said, I’m currently excited about diving back in and (maybe) building an audience who will follow along with me. We’re tentatively planning to keep traveling on a budget, and I’ve got plenty of backlogged learning to post about. With finances in mind, I’m still hopeful about recouping some small returns from this blog someday. But for now, I’m satisfied to simply share.