The young Saint Croix, from the flat Northwoods, from a swamp by a town whose name most people have never heard, a place of shuttered summer cabins, snowmobile trails, pine plantations and a grocery store with high priced shabby produce. Trains rumble by en route to the docks in Duluth, where their goods will be loaded into massive ships and sent away, oh so far away, from little Gordon and little Solon Springs and the little Saint Croix.
