I first visited Minnesota when I was nine. We stayed at my great uncle's modest home on a northern lake near the Iron Range. It was here that I had my first sauna, an affliction I've proudly never lost.
When I started my career job search, I was told that the Twin Cities was a great place to find a job. I didn't need more convincing. Eventually, my wife and I relocated north to Duluth, Minnesota. I still like northern Minnesota like nowhere else.
I read about this in the local papers, and twice set out in search of these owls. They mentioned the Sax-Zim Bog. I had never heard of it.
I was shocked! The Sax-Zim Bog is this flat, eerie and desolate bog of tamaracks and black spruce trees, as uninviting as a place can be—except for one thing. And that is owls. Huge owls. Great Gray Owls that sit quietly high on a barren tree limb, looking at you, a scene right out of Harry Potter. I've been an amateur birder since college but I had never seen anything like this.
I've been to the Sax-Zim Bog multiple times, and I’m never disappointed. Sax-Zim Bog is not a nature preserve or park system set-aside. Loosely, it's a roughly 300-square-mile expanse of land that includes the ghost towns of Sax and Zim, Minnesota, total population of about fifty.
About half of the land is county or state land, including several state Wildlife Management Areas and State Forests, a patchwork of governmental organizations that have recognized this area as significant for wildlife and nature. About a quarter of it is private land. The land also includes several rivers and lakes.
But its real distinction is that it is a unique birding area, one of the easiest places in the country to find boreal birds, such as hawks and owls, without traveling hundreds of miles into Canada.
Not to make this more unusual, the best birding is not in the spring or summer when it’s comfortable to be outside, but rather in late fall and winter when temperatures can easily drop below zero.
There are miles of roads to explore in search of birds, some unpassable in winter. Sitting in your car is probably the easiest way to find them. Along the roads, you will see remnants of these old towns—abandoned homes, farms, trailers and cars, an above-ground swimming pool that hasn’t been used in decades, and occasionally a working farm or a seasonal cabin. And then out of nowhere, you'll drive by a Kingdom Hall of Jehovah's Witnesses.
And you’ll see birds.
And you'll be warned to "please avoid birding the very north end of Stickney Road... this is not a birder-friendly location."
There are bird feeders that attract birds, making it easier for you to find them. There are also walkways built into the bogs where you can get into the middle of good birding places.
You can now book week-long mid-winter birding tours of Sax-Zim Bog, some originating on both coasts. Just to see boreal birds like nowhere else.
How did this all happen? As I said, no one set up a Sax-Zim Bog nature preserve.
Over a hundred years ago, the towns of Sax and Zim were established, with a strong presence of Nordic immigrants, for the lumber industry that was logging this area. The towns together grew to about 400 people. The logging eventually died off, while mining to the north provided new employment. Although the towns themselves eventually died—neither is incorporated today and even a gas station is hard to find—residents could find jobs within commuting distances.
So many people just stayed. The area's population has been about the same for decades. Some of the land continues as family farms, with large pastures that themselves attract birds. One active farm goes back five generations.
In the past few decades, the area has developed a small tourism industry around its birding, an interest that was raised significantly after the 2004-2005 northern owl invasion. Soon, there were two significant non-profit organizations involved with the area, Friends of the Sax-Zim Bog and The Conservation Fund.
Friends of the Sax-Zim Bog was organized to stop new potential logging in the area that might threaten the habitat that makes the area so valuable to birds. This non-profit is now a $1-million-a-year operation with a Welcome Center, warming house and staff.
In addition, they have purchased over 4,000 acres of land and have helped set aside thousands more. They organize regular activities. For example, they have an annual BRRRRdathon in early January, claiming to be the “World’s Coldest Birdathon,” providing detailed maps with information on how to find birds and a wonderful website. It all helps make the area truly a mecca for birders.
The Conservation Fund also got involved, but not to purchase property but to arrange land swaps, trading productive timberland outside the bog for valuable wetlands that are then placed under permanent conservation protection. They have helped conserve more than 42,000 acres within the Sax-Zim Bog.
Years ago, I first heard the term "soft adventure." That's me, I told myself. I like adventure but I have no interest in climbing Mt. Everest. I enjoy exercise and exploration, but I don't care about risking my life.
It's what I like about Minnesota. There are lots of ways to experience soft adventure and still come home with all my body parts. That's the Sax-Zim Bog. It’s a great example of Minnesota adventure, a place that looks almost worthless, yet people from around the world will spend a lot to experience it.
A couple of years ago, my wife and I celebrated New Year’s Day by taking a drive to the Sax-Zim Bog. On our way, I wondered whether it would be quiet, as it often is on New Year’s Day, or busy.
Birders aren't ones to stay home! It was busy! On a barely plowed two-rut road far from anywhere, there were other cars, all enjoying the soft adventure—and birds—of the Sax-Zim Bog. The Welcome Center was open, a kind worker helped me identify a large hawk we had seen, and we bought ourselves a couple of great mugs.
Minnesota never lets me down.
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