Since I can’t yet put into words my complicated feelings related to the unjust and horrific treatment of North American natives over the past few centuries, I will instead report on a less controversial (and much less important) injustice.
Food prices along Minnesota’s North Coast.
Apparently, only tourists pulling showroom-shiny $150K-plus Airstream travel-trailers with $50K-plus tow vehicles ($5K-plus Kevlar canoes on top, $3K-plus carbon fiber bikes dangling from the rear) can afford to eat around here.
The rest of us? Budget-conscious captives—trapped in a remote geography in which the closest supermarket on U.S. soil with reasonably familiar prices is 119 miles away in Duluth.
Nearer options are available, but those are where the gouging begins:
Grand Portage Trading Post, 1 mile away - A glorified convenience store with a few supermarket aisles, but I only go there if I feel the need to pay extra to boost my nitrate, MSG, sodium, sugar and fat levels.
Grand Marais, 35 miles away - Two mom-and-pop grocery stores and one baby Whole Foods (or “Whole Paychecks,” as my cousin Stephen calls them.). In this quaint, trendy little tourist town, one 8.9 oz. box of Cheerios will set you back $7.09, a can of Progresso soup, $4.39 (both Nomadkins staples). And, of course, I could probably buy an entire box of live baby chicks and raise them myself for what Gene charges for one of his “lower priced” rotisserie chickens at $13.99.
Thunder Bay, Ontario, 45 miles away - I don’t have a passport. But even if I did, I’d worry about getting arrested, tried and convicted for trying to smuggle a glove box full of Super Walmart avocados back across the border.
So, one wonders: how do the locals afford to eat?
While enjoying my first tastes of moose meat, freshly caught Lake Superior white fish and locally harvested wild rice at a recent tribal council open house, three possible theories occurred to me: Hunting, fishing, gathering. After all, the reservation folks do have quick and easy access to a 56,000-acre wilderness supermarket that offers a bounty of fresh, nutritious fare—free of charge.
But since I’m not sure if I myself could successfully slay and field dress a bull moose with my dull Swiss Army knife, I guess I’ll just have to shut up and pay the man (named Gene) every time the pantry goes bare.
Until next time…I’m endlessly grateful for your readership and support!
Peace & Love,
Mark
Rotisserie chicken prices ain't what they used to be, even in suburban NH. Progresso has been gouging us for a while (and they're my favorite soups!). Now, what I do is hack standard Ramen noodles with a spoonful of red curry paste, shrimp, and veggies. Yum. And Cheap.