Serpentine Dream
It would be a lie to say this venture had begun as planned. A motorcycle ride up to Lake Pepin to search for an elusive lake monster, fondly referred to as, Pepie had begun with an hour-long ride through cold temperatures and drizzling rain.
As we rode further North however, the gray skies pulled back and the sun began to warm and dry our bodies. The flat farm lands one typically associates with Iowa gave way to rolling hills, towering bluffs, and dense forests. The highway dipped into valleys and up steep inclines; it snaked around the hillsides enclosing us in tree cover and then abruptly exposing beautiful valley views from atop the peaks.
The ride became easier, gear shifts occurred smoothly, cornering was a mechanic as simple as breathing, and man and machine started to blur into one white, black, and red streak along the highway.
It was under these conditions it felt like we truly began to embark on a two-wheeled pilgrimage to and around Lake Pepin. Our steed was a new-to-us 2013 Kawasaki Vulcan Classic, a beast of a machine that roared like a lion with its tail on fire.
We were chasing the legendary lake monster of the Midwest. We were chasing a myth, a goddamn relic of folklore that clung to the underbelly of this heartland like some primordial tick. But who were we to deny the allure of a good story? And who are we to assume anything other than the possibility that this creature actually existed? We are out trying to talk to dead people most other weekends.
The Legend of Pepie: A Midwestern Odyssey
Pepie’s story is as old as the hills that cradle Lake Pepin. The lake itself is a natural widening of the Mississippi River, a glacially-carved marvel that stretches between Minnesota and Wisconsin. It is said that in these waters dwells a creature of mythic proportions, a serpent-like beast that has eluded capture and scientific validation for centuries.
The legend of Pepie can be traced back to the Dakota people, who inhabited the region long before European settlers arrived. They spoke of a water spirit, a powerful entity that inhabited the lake and commanded respect and caution. Their oral traditions warned of disturbing the creature, lest it unleash its wrath upon those who dared to cross it.
In the 1870s, one of the first documented modern sightings occurred. A group of explorers reported seeing a large, snake-like creature in the waters of Lake Pepin. Descriptions varied, but the consistent thread was a massive, undulating form that defied explanation. Newspapers of the time seized upon these accounts, turning them into sensational headlines that captured the public’s imagination.
In the 1920s, the legend was further fueled by a series of photographs taken by a local fisherman named Fred Leininger. These grainy, black-and-white images proceeded to show a large, finned creature swimming just below the surface. While skeptics dismissed them as logs or optical illusions, true believers hailed them as evidence of Pepie’s existence.
More recently, in the 1980s and 1990s, sightings surged once again, thanks in part to a renewed interest in cryptozoology—the study of hidden or unknown animals. Amateur investigators flocked to Lake Pepin with cameras and sonar equipment, hoping to catch a glimpse of the elusive monster. Though no definitive proof was found, the stories and sightings continued, keeping the legend alive.
Coming Ashore: Where the Road Meets the Lake
We got our first look at Lake Pepin after roaring past the small town of Reads Landing. We parked the Vulcan at a scenic overlook. The lake stretched out before us, a vast expanse of blue that seemed to merge with the sky. It was easy to see how legends could be born here, it was a place where reality and fantasy seemed to blur.
We stood there and marveled at the immense body of water for what felt like a very long time, hoping to already catch a glimpse of the fabled beast. The true search would begin tomorrow though, the sun was setting quickly and we had quite a ride ahead of us to our hotel at the top of the lake.
Stop one. No sighting.
We spent the night relaxing; soaking in hot tubs, drinking beer, eating carbs, and partaking in some light gambling. After about seven hours or so of riding, this seems to be what the body requires.
The next day was sure to be another long one, as the search for Pepie truly began.
We rolled into town the next day around noon. Lake City, the birthplace of water skiing and a town steeped in maritime history, was our first stop. Lake City clings to the shoreline of Lake Pepin like a barnacle to a ship’s hull, its streets lined with quaint shops and cafes that reek of small-town charm.
We decided to use our first stop of the day to mix business with pleasure at a place called Kelly’s (go figure) Lake House Bar & Grill. There we sat on the patio, having lunch and sipping on an Edmund Fitzgerald, a wonderful example of American Porter beer.
As we sat we stared at the water. Objectively, we searched the water's shimmering surface for some sort of serpentine head and neck to breach, but as we watched it became all too easy to get lost in it’s beauty and get lost in the moment we were having together.
We finished our lunch and spent a little time looking more in depth into the reported sightings of the Lake Pepin Monster.
From tales of the indigenous people of the area to claims as recent as four years ago in our minds, we continued our journey.
Stop two. No sighting.
The next stop was Hok-Si-La Park where we spent a considerable amount of time observing the waterline. We would pick a bench, sit and stare for a while, then move on to another bench some fifty feet away or so hoping a new perspective, a new angle that would reveal Pepie to us. To our dismay, but not necessarily our surprise, no lake monster.
No sighting at Hok-Si-La.
We continued around the lake, stopping at various points to soak in the scenery. Each stop added another layer to the myth, another piece of the puzzle that was Pepie.
There were times we became excited by something protruding from the depths, only to be immediately dismayed by the realization that the would-be lake monster was only a log. There were times we simply sat and enjoyed each other's company.
It wasn’t until after we had scanned the waters of Lake Pepin from the Wisconsin side we decided it was time to begin the long ride home.
Reflections on the Road: The Power of the Unseen
As we rode South, the mighty Mississippi, flowed past us, a mighty artery of water that had witnessed countless stories and legends over the centuries.
I couldn’t help but reflect on our own journey. We hadn’t found Pepie, but in a way, that didn’t matter. The hunt itself had been an adventure, a chance to explore the unknown and embrace the mystery of the world. There was something inherently human about the desire to seek out the unexplainable, to tell stories and pass down legends from generation to generation.
Our journey around Lake Pepin had taken us through time and space, connecting us with a rich tapestry of history and myth. The legend of Pepie was more than just a story about a lake monster; it was a reflection of our collective imagination, a testament to the power of storytelling.
As we roared back onto the highway, the wind in our faces and the open road stretching out before us, I felt a deep sense of gratitude. The world was full of mysteries, and while we might not always find the answers we seek, the search itself was a journey worth undertaking. In the end, it was the stories we told and the adventures we embarked upon that gave our lives meaning and connected us to something larger than ourselves.
Every time I looked over at the river, I thought about Pepie, about the people who had dedicated their lives to finding the elusive creature. Whether Pepie was real or not seemed almost irrelevant; what mattered was the pursuit, the thrill of the chase, and the stories that emerged from it. The legend of Pepie will continue to live on, passed down through generations, whispered around campfires, and written about in countless books and articles.