#4: [03-Apr-22]

#3: [15-Aug-13]

#2: [03-Jul-02]

#1: [25-Apr-01]

24-Oct-2025 --

47N 95W is located in a beautiful region of northern Minnesota, characterized by hundreds of lakes nestled in glacial hills between aspen, birch, and pine forests (and the occasional boggy patch). Malachi and I were drawn to this area by Lake Itasca (pronounced "eye-tass-kuh"), one very particular lake that happens to be the origin point of the Mississippi River — a very significant location, considering the importance of the Mississippi to trade and settlement on the North American continent. Neither of us had ever been to north-central Minnesota, and as is tradition, we planned to capstone our introduction to the unfamiliar area with a confluence visit.

After escaping the flat expanse of the Red River Valley, it became immediately clear that we'd picked a great time of the year to see the Minnesota forests — intermixed deciduous and evergreen trees made for a very colorful journey, especially once we turned south from US 2 onto a smaller highway (MN 92) to begin the last hour of the drive to the confluence. From then on, the density of bodies of water also increased markedly. I don't know if every single pond counts as a "lake" for the sake of the state living up to their "Land of 10,000 Lakes" nickname, but it felt pretty apt to me. Given the dozens of lakes we saw on this day alone, I can surmise why some folks jokingly call mosquitos Minnesota's state bird. Again — late October was a great time of year to be here: we barely saw any during the entire confluence visit and subsequent walk at the state park.

We initially bypassed Lake Itasca en route to 47N 95W, eager to start the confluence hunt. Fifteen minutes further down US 71 (designated as the "Lake Country Scenic Byway"), we turned east onto a less traveled county road, now 5 miles [8 km] west of our goal. It was similarly scenic off the highway, with small properties breaking up the forest and wetland landscape every mile or two. I assume this area was developed with logging in mind, although I'm not sure to what extent it still supports the local economy. Tourism must certainly help these days — case in point, the confluence lands just beside one of many lakeside cabin resort getaways in the region, a perfect preliminary parking place plan. While it looked ideal, there was no telling whether reaching our goal from there would be a 100% risk-free undertaking (i.e., free of discouraging signs and/or fences).

Within a minute of turning onto Greenway Drive, the resort's access road, we happened upon a very relieving sign: "Disc and Soccer Golf". Our expectations were exceeded before even starting the walk, knowing it was a place that actively encouraged outdoor recreation. This was the only parcel of land between our parking spot and the confluence, located about 0.25 miles [420 meters] to the north-northwest. Better yet, nobody else was there — no games of frisbee golf on which we might accidentally intrude! With high spirits and anticipation building, we set off in a roughly straight line across the disc golf course.

This was among the more straightforward confluence strolls I've ever done, yet simultaneously prettier than most (mostly thanks to seasonal factors). Besides being nice for walking, the course's fairway made it easy to admire the picturesque fall foliage (see photo); such a view would've been hard to get if we were bushwhacking among the trees. A few minutes later (now within 100 meters of the confluence), we reached the northwestern extent of the course and came across a handful of resort maintenance and storage-related objects. At least I assumed it had to be storage, based on the otherwise inexplicable presence of about a dozen benches scattered in the trees. It was here that we encountered a north-south dirt track that led us another 50 meters to 47°N, and what's presumably a storage building.

This humble maintenance zone was essentially the spot — the GPS directed us a few strides off the track into the trees, commencing the zeroes dance. With minimal ground cover and large spaces between tree trunks, this was rather easy. After a minute or two meandering around in a 5 meter radius, I caught a glance of all-zeroes and started gathering the pictures. Malachi and I now stood on 47N 95W, the first confluence in Minnesota for either of us. It was a peaceful place at that moment, the sole unnatural sound being cars on the county road about 200 meters to the west. The dirt track continues toward said road (see photo), providing an alternative but perhaps less interesting access method. The weather was perfect: light south winds blew beneath a milky blue-white sky, with a comfortable temperature around 50°F [10°C]. From the confluence, the maintenance shed (and adjacent pile of firewood) was easily visible just to the east; a resort worker could theoretically log a successful visit from inside that building. Following a few minutes on-site, appreciating the calm surroundings and thinking of previous visits to 95°W (particularly 37N 95W, where I'd stood six months before, exactly 10° south of the current spot), we started back towards the disc golf course.

We retraced our steps past the herd of benches before reaching the course. This time, Malachi noticed people walking in our direction: a couple of disc golfers! It was good to see some other people enjoying the decent fall weather, and we took care to avoid their game. (Although I missed out on an opportunity to initiate two potential confluence hunters...) A few more fall foliage pictures later, it was time to hit the road. We headed back towards Itasca State Park (only 16 mi/25 km northwest of 47N 95W), spending the rest of the afternoon there. It felt surreal to stand on the headwaters of the Mississippi River, knowing how large and important the river becomes just a few hundred miles downstream; there, it could be crossed by stepping on a few stones in under fifteen seconds. Would absolutely recommend checking it out if in the area (once you've documented 47N 95W, of course)! Together, they make a very scenic and geographically satisfying day.