Grand Marais, perhaps the quaintest town on the Highway 61 north shore, deserved a stop. We picked up a couple of $4 coffees-to-go at a coffee shop and walked the streets. (Gas station and truck-stop coffee really suck, and these coffee-house coffees are very good, but, jeez, they are so ridiculously expensive.)
Two restaurants caught my attention. The first was called “South Of The Border”. I looked over the menu looking for Mexican cuisine, but it was all American fare - burgers and all. It finally dawned on me - South Of The Border referred to the Canadian border (Duh!!). But across the street was a restaurant advertising tacos served in Indian fry bread. OK, that sounded fun. As tempting as that interesting combo sounded, it was too early for supper and we passed.
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