They shop, they sip, they splurge. No wonder every resort, spa and tourism bureau is touting "girlfriend getaways,'' trying to reel in the roving groups of women who are out spending quality time with each other.

Galena advertises pajama parties, makeovers and massages. Kansas City plugs a martini-and-manicure night. In Chicago, it's "shoes, shoes, shoes.'' In Door County, Sturgeon Bay hosts a Groovin' Sisterhood Weekend in April.

But grapes do grow in Wisconsin, primarily on the high ridges of the Wisconsin River, near its confluence with the Mississippi. There, vines bask in sunlight and frosts sink into valleys. What vintners can’t grow they truck in from other states, adding a Wisconsin je ne sais quoi  to the grapes during blending, fermentation and aging.

My friend Andi and I stood contemplating this sight.

''Well, people's souls are warmed by different things,'' Andi said at last.

As men sit in deer stands or watch football games on TV, women hit the road with their friends. They shop, they visit spas, they sip wine and they see shows their husbands or boyfriends don’t want to see.

Shows like "Menopause, the Musical,'' showing in downtown Minneapolis Nov. 1-9. Or the Four Bitchin' Babes' Hormonal Imbalance revue, coming to Chicago and the Wisconsin towns of Wautoma and Hartford Nov. 21-23.

The flash came from the shiny lead sulfide upon which the town's fortunes were built in the 1830s, '40s and '50s; galena is the Latin word for the ore. It made many people rich, and in the 1850s, Galena, three miles from the Mississippi, was the busiest port between St. Paul and St. Louis.

These visions were enough to draw six Minnesota women toward the rolling folds of southwest Wisconsin, holiday lists in hand. Until that trip, my friends and I never had thought of ourselves as power shoppers.

Relax, rejuvenate and renew. Cleanse the skin, clear the mind. Get rid of stress and enter a portal to tranquility.

Like a lot of women, I thought a spa vacation would make a good girlfriend getaway, a relaxing break in routine. And I figured that somewhere there must be a nice little spa for working-class folk.

Often, they're wearing the tell-tale colors of the Red Hat Society, a loose-knit organization of older women whose mission is to have fun. One June, I spotted three of them at Strawberry Festival in Cedarburg, Wis., having some laughs over a bottle of strawberry wine. They'd driven up from the southern Wisconsin town of Orfordville for the day, one of many trips they take throughout the year.

Why, make sure everyone notices, of course.

In 1972, an old Yankee mill town just north of Milwaukee started a Wine & Harvest Festival. Two years later, it started Winter Festival. Eight years after that, it started Strawberry Festival. And people poured into Cedarburg by the thousands.

There's so much to scout out — autumn colors, new trails, interesting shops. Lots of people head for the river valleys, to orchards on the St. Croix and towns along the Mississippi.

But one October, two girlfriends and I headed north instead. And in an overlooked part of the state, between Brainerd and Mille Lacs, we found a rich vein of fun.

Around the region, art-studio tours have been springing up, beckoning art patrons into the countryside just as fall leaves change color.

It's the perfect meeting of minds and pocketbooks — shoppers get to chat with the artists, and artists get to sell right out of their studios.

Not at malls but under the little white tents that pop up wherever there's a festival, on the shores of lakes, in parks and on picturesque town squares. That's where the region's most accomplished potters, glass makers, jewelers, painters, weavers and photographers bring out their wares and make themselves available to whoever cares to stop — customers, passersby, admirers.

They're real towns, of course, but they're always on their best behavior because tourists are always watching, and many have evolved in lockstep with tourism.