![[Lake scene drawing]](http://images.midwestweekend.com/graphics/lake_scene.gif)
As often as not, vacationing couples find they're in a mixed marriage: One likes to shop, one likes to bike or hike.
What to do? I've seen dozens of men patiently waiting on benches as their wives and girlfriends scour the shops, although these days, women are just as likely to ditch their husbands to travel with their girlfriends.
But it needn't be an either/or proposition. Pick one of the destinations below, and you'll find both great shopping and great riding (or running, or skating) routes, along with great restaurants in which to relax afterward.
It all began with an enameled horse trough/hog scalder.
It grew into an empire that includes a five-diamond resort, a collection of upscale shops, an innovative art center, a foundation that rescues Wisconsin folk art and, in fact, an entire town that's so perfect it's almost eerie.
That horse trough evolved, too, into such products as the Body Spa, a futuristic shower stall with a waterfall and 10 jets that pummel tired muscles with 80 gallons of water per minute.
In a little village in northern Wisconsin, muskie probably is still king.
Back in 1971, city boosters got the U.S. Patent Office to make Boulder Junction the official Musky Capital of the World. After all, the surrounding two counties have the world's densest concentration of lakes, and they still yield 4-foot fish.
But times change. Now, this former logging town deep in the middle of state forest has gained fame as a playground for another kind of trophy hunter.
From the beginning, the St. Croix River has shaped Hudson's identity.
The first settlers came by canoe on the fur-trade highway. The first steamboat docked in 1847, and soon logs were floating down the St. Croix to sawmills in Hudson and its neighbor on the Minnesota side, Stillwater.
Hudson's 1913 toll bridge became a landmark on the St. Croix, fattening town coffers after the lumber boom ended. The bridge
closed in 1951, but its raised bed still stretches partway over the river, giving residents and visitors a place to stroll on
warm summer evenings.
People converge on Spring Green, Wis., for many good reasons: To admire Frank Lloyd Wright masterpieces. To hear Shakespeare at American Players Theatre. To see world-class kitsch at House on the Rock.
But what brought me to Spring Green? Free stuff.
Spring Green calls itself "The Birthday Town,'' because people celebrating birthdays can go around to its businesses collecting free loot, like trick-or-treaters. It's like having another holiday, except you're the only one who gets to celebrate it.
Northfield always has been shaped by newcomers.
First the Yankees came to town, then the Norwegians. Each started a college, and the Yankees built mills, whose flour won international prizes as the Minneapolis mill were just getting started.
Missourians arrived in 1876 for a brief but memorable visit; the violent bank raid by the James-Younger Gang is called "the seven minutes that shook Northfield.''
In the grand scheme of things, Galena, Ill., was destined to be a flash in the pan.
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.
The new railroad approached, but the steamboat lines made sure it stayed away from Galena. Then the lead market weakened, trade
routes shifted and the town's steep hillsides, which had given up their trees for the smelting furnaces and their limestone for
houses, began to erode into the Galena River.
When a small town is about as pleasing as can be, what else can it do?
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.
Since its earliest days, the people of Mineral Point have created beauty out of nothing.
Lead first drew eager frontiersmen, who often lived in the "badger holes'' they dug in their search for "mineral.'' The territory later became known as the badger state, and the town became Mineral Point, the nucleus around which Wisconsin developed.
In the early 1830s, skilled miners began arriving from Cornwall, on the rocky western tip of England. They also were expert stonemasons, and they chipped blocks of golden limestone out of the ground and fashioned handsome little cottages that resembled those of their homeland.
As soon as the leaves have fallen and cold winds start to blow, the holidays get under way. This is the season for craft fairs, theme feasts and Christmas parades. Here are some of the best of 2009.
Holiday Parade in Oshkosh, Wis. Look for floats, marching bands and, of course, Santa Claus. 6:30 p.m. Nov. 12.
It's obvious from one look at the shop-lined streets of Amana, the largest of the seven Amana Colonies, that modern commerce is in full flower there. Even so, the first question asked about the villages is: Are the Amana people Amish?
And no wonder — the people of the Amanas spoke German, lived simply and adhered faithfully to Scripture. Many still do. But no, they never were Amish.
The first people of the Amanas were German immigrants who came to Iowa in 1855. They were devoutly religious, as were many of the time, but in addition they believed in Inspirationism — that God speaks to modern-day people through chosen Werkzeuge, the German word for tools, rather than ordained ministers.
In Madison, a visitor is exposed to many messages: Resist corporate globalization. Fight for social justice. Housing is a RIGHT!
But when I was there one November, no one said anything against materialism.
Madison — sometimes called the People’s Republic of Madison — is so anti-establishment and anti-corporate
that a Starbuck’s caused an uproar when it opened on State Street.
Visiting Chicago one December, I was bowled over by how merry everyone was.
The airport-shuttle driver, the bus driver, a UPS man on the street — they all volunteered big smiles and cheery greetings. Twice, people on the street ran after me to return a dropped glove; one wished me Merry Christmas in a Slavic accent.
Could it be . . . Chicago Nice? It was either that or pixie dust.
For 500 years, Germans have done their holiday shopping at open-air Christmas markets in town squares. Named for the Christ child, the markets traditionally start on the first Sunday of Advent, with shoppers warming up with hot spiced Glühwein while browsing at garland-draped timber kiosks.
It's a tradition worth importing, and that's what Chicago did in 1996 with its Christkindlmarket. It's become more popular every year, and now people in many towns have markets of their own. Here are five in 2009.
For more great places to shop, see Shopping towns stories.
During the holidays, there's no place like home. In fact, it's the perfect getaway.
Every year, I go to downtown Minneapolis to see the Holidazzle parade. I get tickets for Handel's "Messiah" at Orchestra Hall. I hunt for stocking stuffers on Nicollet Mall.
I don't stay overnight. I live here, after all.
Down comforters, to nestle all snug on a bed. Fleece stockings, to wear with care. Bowlsful of jelly, and a shop full of toys.
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.
"Wow, I've never done this before,'' marveled my friend Mary, looking on as three of us tried futilely to close the lid of the bulging car-top carrier. "I've heard about women who do this.''
No one knows how to celebrate Christmas like the Germans.
It's thanks to them that Americans decorate Christmas trees, hang wreaths and put nutcrackers on mantels. Because of them, we bake gingerbread men, open Advent calendars and fill stockings with treats.
Still, not every German Christmas tradition has crossed the Atlantic.
There are certain towns that are so adorable and have so much that appeals to tourists that you just have to call them show
towns.
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.
There's no question about what goes on the top of this list — Galena, Ill. This 1850s lead-mining boom town snoozed for a century before it was
rediscovered and turned into a playground for weekenders, especially from Chicago.
As soon as we turned off the highway into Nisswa, my children’s heads began to swivel.
"Souvenirs . . . Gift Shop . . . Moccasins,’’ read 9-year-old Madeleine. "And look — Candy Store.’’
"This is a cute town,’’ said 6-year-old Peter, noticing the covered sidewalks. "It’s like a cowboy town.’’
