Bluff Country hues

The pitch-black squirrel that crossed my hiking path felt like a bad-luck omen. I was at Great River Bluffs State Park southeast of Winona looking for fall color last October, and I wasn't hopeful. Heavy rains a week earlier had knocked most of the leaves to the forest floor. On the drive down Hwy. 61, part of Minnesota's picturesque Great River Road, I wondered if the center yellow lines would be the closest I'd come to seeing vibrant hues.

The trail cut through a mixed forest of maple, oak and birch. The afternoon sun slanted through the leaves, lighting up the few that were yellow and sparking my wish for more. When I reached the path's end -- an overlook that takes in the Mississippi River, some islands and Wisconsin on the far side -- I was underwhelmed. Greens and browns struck my eyes, without a hint of red, not even a cardinal flying by to offer that vibrant pop.

I lingered anyway. The day was brisk, an early calling for hat and gloves. Wispy clouds unfurled across the brilliant blue sky. A barge, the color of deep rust, slowly cut through the river below.

Then as I drove down a dirt road, cutting across the rolling upland at the state park, I stopped for a second chance at fall color, one I'd zoomed past on my way to the overlook hike. A field of prairie glowed white and red in the afternoon light, its flowers and grasses stretching out toward a stand of birch and maple, a tangle of yellow and red.

New perch for fall show

"Just hold the reins or walk in a circle for a while," my trail guide, Lorrie Rinn, told me nonchalantly before she disappeared to get her own ride. I was sitting high atop an animal more than five times my weight and infinitely strong. The fact that he was gentle -- and a brown beauty -- did nothing to calm my nerves.

Like all jaded trail horses I've ever ridden, he knew I wasn't the boss. He reluctantly responded to my requests, but didn't really perk up until Rinn and her steed emerged from the barn.

Plenty of color in town, too

Later that day, I craned my neck again -- not to look at nature's handiwork, but at the ornate Tiffany stained-glass windows of the Winona National Bank. The stately 1916 Egyptian Revival building, which still serves as a bank, also acts as an odd museum, merging architecture and game trophies.

Like most visitors, I stopped there to check out the windows and the architecture. George Maher, a Chicago architect who was influenced by Frank Lloyd Wright, designed the marble-clad Winona icon. You can see the Prairie School touches especially in the conference room, which is open for wandering.

For a close-up look at the centerpiece window, above the entrance to the bank, I wound my way up marble stairs to the mezzanine and second floor. There, I was surprised to find an unlikely display of taxidermied animals from Africa, collected by bank owners E.L. and Grace King and their son E.L. "Buddy" King Jr. at a time when game hunts were generally viewed as romantic and decidedly noncontroversial adventures.

Around the corner from a wood-paneled conference room, an ostrich stretches 8 feet tall behind a glass case, and a lion looks regal before a tableau of painted grass. A leopard strikes a stalking pose, forever on the prowl for what -- the blue lotus flowers in the stained-glass windows?

Outside, a walkway runs past a narrow river channel and along nice landscaping that includes prairie grasses. By the time I saw the strip of sumac, a brilliant red, I hardly cared about autumn's faded beauty. I had seen enough color in Winona.

Kerri Westenberg • 612-673-4282