by Kimberlee Roth (www.out-word.com)

"Turn right at the Pickle Barrel--you can't miss it," were the directions a hotelier in Grand Marais provided to some friends and I who were on our way to his establishment last summer. We figured the barrel was a bar and kept our eyes peeled for its sign. As we approached the corner in question, laughter erupted. The hotelier was right--it was hard to miss. The 20-foot-tall cask occupied a corner lot, surrounded by a well-manicured lawn and garden, like something out of a child's storybook. Which, in a way, it is.